- Pronouns
- Eldritch/Horror
- TNP Nation
- Yamantau/The Black Cathedral
- Discord
- Mercy#2357
Day 1
Diyar
06:00
Yamanta, Ephyrans, Iraelians, Diyari, Yektenians, Skandans, Jomsvikingr mercenaries from all over the world. It was a sight to behold. Months of moving men and resources quietly into Diyar in order to spring the trap. Al-Jabari was well entrenched in the south, but the task force aimed to break them. The Rafhazi would act as the stones, and the mass collection of internationals the crashing wave, slamming the unworthy upon the shoreline.
Carolus and Omar had arrived alongside the 3rd Division Ekspedisjonsstryker of Ephyra, embedding themselves among the enlisted. Carolus was old friends with their lead man, Jefferson Fahzani, who went by Fahz in all matters.
It was cooler here than they had anticipated, but they knew the wide open deserts of Rafhazan would pose more of a challenge.
“Check weapons one last time then mount up! Helo up in fifteen!” Fahz shouted as he walked through the makeshift tent barracks. Carolus lifted his eyes as Fahz passed, checking over his rifle while Omar sat across from him, nervously bouncing his leg.
“Stop.” Carolus warned, pulling back the charging handle halfway and checking the chamber.
Omar's gaze narrowed as he immediately stilled himself.
“Sorry I'm shitting myself dude.” Omar shot back.
“Well snap out of it, shit's about to get real.” Carolus offered Omar a hand up, and pulled him violently upward, almost pinning their bodies together. Carolus looked into his eyes, as if looking for something other than fear. “Get it together. I need to make sure you get home.”
Omar nodded nervously and reached down to grab his helmet, checking inside of it for any type of critter that may have crawled in. He looked so oddly out of place among the rest. A room full of killers, and one scared boy wearing more gear than necessary.
Carolus strolled out of the tent, shielding his eyes from the sun. He adjusted his plate carrier and tucked his dog tags into his shirt. A group of Yektenian mercs was enjoying a laugh and a cigarette as he walked past. He didn't know much about them, other than the fact that they didn't fuck around.
“Go find Fahz.” Carolus ordered, looking back at Omar.
Omar simply rolled his eyes and nodded before falling out and making his way towards the line of helos on the airstrip.
Carolus approached the mercs and called out to them. One of the men turned to him and uttered something unintelligible as he flipped a black coin repeatedly before stopping in order to offer a hand to the Ephyran, who gave it a solid shake. Carolus pulled the cigarettes from the mag holder on his plate carrier and offered one to the man.
“Trade?” the merc asked, holding out his own pack. Carolus chuffed and took one, smelling it quickly before lighting it. It was harsher than Yamanta smokes, but it had a nice aftertaste to it.
“Who you boys with?” Carolus asked, letting the smoke creep from his lips.
“A.C.E. Group.” one of the other men answered, tapping the patch on his own plate carrier. A spade adorned with a ram skull in black and white.
“In with us or rear guard?” Carolus continued his line of questioning.
“Frontlines, baby.” the man with the coin laughed, his cohort cackling along with him.
Carolus smiled and nodded. “See you boys in the shit then!” he called as he backed away before turning and making his way to the helos.
The plan was to launch in three waves, attacking strategic targets from air first, followed by mass bombardment to cover the movement of ground forces. Carolus and Omar were going in onboard the Tomahawk, which would drop them roughly a kilometer outside of Nasirabad, just inside the Rafhazi border. They would move on the town with three platoons, hopefully taking the sparse occupying forces by surprise in the confusion.
Carolus held onto his rifle tight as he ducked down, running towards the chopper, hopping on board and settling in on one of the seats by the door. He had every intention of being the first one out. He could see Omar sitting with a pair of Jomsvikingrs from some Icenian nation he couldn't remember the name of. Fahz clapped his hand down on Carolus’ shoulder, smiling down at him. Fahz was infamous for wearing a heavily altered ballistic mask, which at the moment was flipped up like a visor.
“Fuck you're ugly!” Carolus grinned as the chopper lifted off.
Fahz laughed and sat down across from Carolus. “Just like old times!” Fahz cracked a smile as he hollered over the sound of the rotors. The chopper lifted off and began towards its destination. They could hear the jets screaming by outside, starting their attack runs on Nasirabad and Al-Fayoum.
Rounds of raucous shouting erupted in the chopper as the occupants cheered on the avenging arrows.
“Forty headbands!” Carolus shouted to Fahz, who seemed to carefully consider before he answered back.
“Fifty easy!” Fahz beamed.
Twelve helos flew in formation over the sands, ready to deliver their deadly cargo. The lead helo blasting music as it raced along just above the ground.
Fahz looked out the window and watched the impact of the artillery around the small outposts that dotted the landscape, smoke already rising in the distance.
“Three minutes to LZ!” the pilot reminded them. Fahz stood up and grabbed the fabric strap hanging from the ceiling, looking down at the two rows of men in the back.
“Three mikes! Cleared hot on landing, all contacts are to be eliminated with extreme prejudice!” he told them, letting out a high pitched shout as he finished his sentence.
Carolus watched as a rocket traced past the chopper door.
“RPGs!” Carolus shouted, placing his hand on the door latch.
“Let ‘em try, who gives a shit!” Fahz shouted back.
Fahz lived for this. A heart, body, and mind built for war.
“LZ in visual range!” the pilot called back.
Fahz pivoted to huddle by the door, reefing back on the bolt of his LMG, letting it slam back home. Carolus chambered the first round in his rifle and braced himself for the sudden descent.
The chopper descended rapidly, before hovering a few feet from the ground. The drop ramp in the rear came down, and the side door flew open, the occupants quickly filing out and taking positions several feet away. No sooner had the last pair of boots hit the ground than the pilot pulled away and turned back, ready to pick up the next load of troops. Nasirabad was visible in the distance, and the artillery barrage had already made some good holes. Parachutes could already be seen coming down from the sky.
“Move!” Fahz ordered. His men moving quickly down the hillside, making their way towards the town.
Omar could feel his heart beating in his chest as he ran. He was terrified, but he was in it now, he couldn't turn back. He could feel his palms sweating, and with every step forward he wanted nothing more than to throw the gun down into the sand and run away.
Forward he went.
The squad started to take small arms fire from the town once they were about two hundred meters out. The Diyari soldier behind Fahz caught a bullet in the shoulder, but it didn't even seem to slow him down. The artillery had stopped targeting the town, but the battle had already started to rage in the streets with the paratroopers already becoming a nuisance.
“Push up!” Carolus shouted, blindly returning fire on whoever was shooting at them from the second storey window of a nearby building.
“Push that structure!” Fahz ordered, pointing to the building, before stopping to take position behind an abandoned vehicle and laying suppressing fire on the window. Carolus slowed down until Omar caught up to him, grabbing the boy by the collar of his flak vest and wrenching him forward.
“Ephyrans lead the way!” he growled. Omar stumbled forward and pushed up to join the stack on the door of the building. The first man swapped the other side as the second man delivered a kick to the door, splintering the frame as it swing open, before being gunned down soon after, the man on the other side of the door swung in and delivered a burst of fire to the gunman's chest before stepping over his fallen comrade and pushing inside. An Iraelian next, Omar third, and Carolus right behind him as the rest of the squad circled to the other side. Carolus put his hand on Omar's shoulder and hustled him along.
“Guns up, moron!” Carolus hissed, Omar snapping his rifle to his shoulder and sweeping the area.
A man ran out from one of the rooms, directly Omar, who panicked and simply held down the trigger, emptying numerous rounds into the fleeing man before watching him stagger and slam down face first, his body bent backwards against the wall at an unnatural angle with his arm trapped against his body. Omar stopped to look, and heard the last gurgling gasps escape the man's lips. He was old, too old to be fighting, and he was unarmed.
Omar wretched and immediately threw up on his boots.
“No time for that!” Carolus urged, pushing Omar back in front of him, up the stairs. The other man from the stack had already begun sweeping the rooms. Omar wretched again as he fell in behind him.
One of the second floor shooters tried to ambush Carolus, charging him from a dark corner, resulting in Carolus dropping his rifle to the floor. Omar spun around, aiming at the hostile soldier. Carolus had already seized the man by his arms and threw him to the ground, before quickly and efficiently stomping on his head, a wet cracking resonating through the hall. The hostile shuddered for a few moments before becoming still as Carolus picked up his rifle.
“Probably two more still.” Carolus breathed heavily pushing past Omar. Fahz was likely keeping the other shooters pinned to one area.
“Fahz, lay off!” Carolus shouted into his radio, before slamming his shoulder through the door and leveling his rifle at the two terrified men in the corner who fumbled with their weapons as they tried to level them at the hulking figure in the doorway. Carolus fired from the hip, sweeping over the men, back and forth as he fired, the high caliber rounds tearing them apart. The second squad could be heard up on the third floor clearing out the rest of them. Carolus surveyed his handiwork and spit on the floor in the general direction of the eviscerated Al-Jabari shooters.
Omar was hyperventilating, desperately trying to catch his breath as he braced himself against a wall. Carolus simply pushed him along towards the third floor. Omar's heart pounded in his ears until all he could do was scream.
—----------------------------------------------------
It only took sixteen hours to lock down Nasirabad and Al-Fayoum, so for now, there was some quiet. Omar sat against the wall of the makeshift command center, staring up into the night sky as he shakily took another drag from a cigarette he'd bummed off of a Yektenian.
“Get used to it.” Carolus grumbled as he sat down next to Omar.
“How do you do it? Just pretend you didn't just kill somebody?” Omar asked.
“You don't pretend you didn't do it. You fully embrace it. Denial gets you nowhere.” Carolus explained. “Some stuff you never get used to, like hearing cartilage and ligaments tear from explosive force.”
“So I'm just supposed to accept that I killed that old man and left him leaning ninety degrees up a wall?” Omar scoffed, flexing his hands.
“Yeah. If you ever want to see Soph again.” Carolus stated
Omar stared at Carolus, almost as if searching for something.
“So what's the deal with you guys anyways? Shit’s been pretty weird with y'all for a while.” he said carefully, his tone carrying some sort of implication to it.
Carolus raised his eyebrows as he chewed on a protein bar and carefully considered his next words.
“Uhhh…well…she's fairly upset that you're here, among other reasons.” he grunted through chews. “She's also not super pumped that we're answering to the Iterian League for the duration of this operation, but…it is what it is.” he finished, finally choking down the chalky bite of chocolate and whey.
“No other reasons?” Omar scowled.
“What are you getting at, dude?” Carolus snapped, making a flippant gesture.
“Is that your child in her belly?” Omar asked him point blank. “I need to know in case I die out here.”
Carolus lazily dug into his pocket and grabbed a pack of cigarettes, handing one to Omar and lighting it for him before following suite.
“You sure you wanna have this conversation?” Carolus side-eyed him.
“Yep.” Omar said, staring dead ahead.
“It might be, yeah.” Carolus stated.
“When would that have happened?” Omar began the questioning.
“Right before the expulsion of socialist politicians.” Carolus answered, there was no point lying.
“How?” Omar asked coldly.
“I put her ankles by her ears and beat the shit out of her cervix in the backseat of the Blockade Runner, how the fuck do you think?” Carolus shook his head.
Omar grimaced and turned his head.
“Don't ask questions you don't want answers to.” Carolus said, almost trying to hide a smile.
“So you knew that I loved her, and you still did it.” Omar stated, almost as if trying to string everything together.
“Yes. I don't regret it.” Carolus answered.
Omar quickly stood and spun to face Carolus.
“You're an asshole, you know that? You've always been a fucking asshole. What Alara sees in you will always be beyond me, but you better believe I'm telling her as soon as I can.” Omar spat.
Carolus examined him before rising to his feet. Omar was tall for an Ephyran, but Carolus still towered over him.
“Wouldn't it be a shame if you fell from the roof up there and broke your neck?” Carolus asked, flexing the fingers on his right hand. “Wouldn't it be a shame if you got your fucking face blown off in a friend day fire incident? Wouldn't it be just a tragedy if you were to have some manner of terrible mishap, Omar?” Carolus advanced towards him.
Omar stepped back against the wall as Carolus closed in on him. Before he knew it, he had landed a thundering hook into Carolus’ jaw. Carolus staggered back, before a strange smile spread across his thin lips. Carolus answered back with a crushing uppercut as he charged forward. Omar felt his teeth break as the force of the blow slammed his jaws together before he crumpled to the ground.
“Ohhh boy, the choices we make out of anger, huh kid?” Carolus mocked as he kicked Omar in the ribs. “What…a…terrible…tragedy…that has befallen…the house…OF IRONHORSE.” Carolus grunted, kicking and stomping on Omar until he was out of breath.
“C’mon, get up.” Carolus challenged. Omar lay in the sand, not moving.
Carolus paused for a moment, before nudging Omar with his foot. Omar didn't make a sound. Carolus casually knelt down and listened for any type of breathing, and found none. Omar’s lifeless eyes stared down into the sand as Carolus drew his knife.
“See you on the other side kid.” Carolus hissed, as he drew the blade across Omar’s throat, before pushing him back down into the sand, and wiping the knife off on Omar’s back.
Carolus examined the situation for a moment before reaching down and picking up a handful of sand and throwing it into his own eyes. Once the tears started to fall, he began to scream for a medic, cradling Omar’s body as he feigned the screams of grief with horrifying accuracy.
When everything was said and done, Carolus blamed Al-Jabari for Omar’s slaying, vowing vengeance and wrath upon them as his men looked on. Even Fahz was fooled by the psychopathic charade playing out in front of everyone.
When Carolus figured he had everyone convinced, he snuck away from the encampment and wandered into the darkness. Now he had to find a way to spin it to Sophija.
Diyar
06:00
Yamanta, Ephyrans, Iraelians, Diyari, Yektenians, Skandans, Jomsvikingr mercenaries from all over the world. It was a sight to behold. Months of moving men and resources quietly into Diyar in order to spring the trap. Al-Jabari was well entrenched in the south, but the task force aimed to break them. The Rafhazi would act as the stones, and the mass collection of internationals the crashing wave, slamming the unworthy upon the shoreline.
Carolus and Omar had arrived alongside the 3rd Division Ekspedisjonsstryker of Ephyra, embedding themselves among the enlisted. Carolus was old friends with their lead man, Jefferson Fahzani, who went by Fahz in all matters.
It was cooler here than they had anticipated, but they knew the wide open deserts of Rafhazan would pose more of a challenge.
“Check weapons one last time then mount up! Helo up in fifteen!” Fahz shouted as he walked through the makeshift tent barracks. Carolus lifted his eyes as Fahz passed, checking over his rifle while Omar sat across from him, nervously bouncing his leg.
“Stop.” Carolus warned, pulling back the charging handle halfway and checking the chamber.
Omar's gaze narrowed as he immediately stilled himself.
“Sorry I'm shitting myself dude.” Omar shot back.
“Well snap out of it, shit's about to get real.” Carolus offered Omar a hand up, and pulled him violently upward, almost pinning their bodies together. Carolus looked into his eyes, as if looking for something other than fear. “Get it together. I need to make sure you get home.”
Omar nodded nervously and reached down to grab his helmet, checking inside of it for any type of critter that may have crawled in. He looked so oddly out of place among the rest. A room full of killers, and one scared boy wearing more gear than necessary.
Carolus strolled out of the tent, shielding his eyes from the sun. He adjusted his plate carrier and tucked his dog tags into his shirt. A group of Yektenian mercs was enjoying a laugh and a cigarette as he walked past. He didn't know much about them, other than the fact that they didn't fuck around.
“Go find Fahz.” Carolus ordered, looking back at Omar.
Omar simply rolled his eyes and nodded before falling out and making his way towards the line of helos on the airstrip.
Carolus approached the mercs and called out to them. One of the men turned to him and uttered something unintelligible as he flipped a black coin repeatedly before stopping in order to offer a hand to the Ephyran, who gave it a solid shake. Carolus pulled the cigarettes from the mag holder on his plate carrier and offered one to the man.
“Trade?” the merc asked, holding out his own pack. Carolus chuffed and took one, smelling it quickly before lighting it. It was harsher than Yamanta smokes, but it had a nice aftertaste to it.
“Who you boys with?” Carolus asked, letting the smoke creep from his lips.
“A.C.E. Group.” one of the other men answered, tapping the patch on his own plate carrier. A spade adorned with a ram skull in black and white.
“In with us or rear guard?” Carolus continued his line of questioning.
“Frontlines, baby.” the man with the coin laughed, his cohort cackling along with him.
Carolus smiled and nodded. “See you boys in the shit then!” he called as he backed away before turning and making his way to the helos.
The plan was to launch in three waves, attacking strategic targets from air first, followed by mass bombardment to cover the movement of ground forces. Carolus and Omar were going in onboard the Tomahawk, which would drop them roughly a kilometer outside of Nasirabad, just inside the Rafhazi border. They would move on the town with three platoons, hopefully taking the sparse occupying forces by surprise in the confusion.
Carolus held onto his rifle tight as he ducked down, running towards the chopper, hopping on board and settling in on one of the seats by the door. He had every intention of being the first one out. He could see Omar sitting with a pair of Jomsvikingrs from some Icenian nation he couldn't remember the name of. Fahz clapped his hand down on Carolus’ shoulder, smiling down at him. Fahz was infamous for wearing a heavily altered ballistic mask, which at the moment was flipped up like a visor.
“Fuck you're ugly!” Carolus grinned as the chopper lifted off.
Fahz laughed and sat down across from Carolus. “Just like old times!” Fahz cracked a smile as he hollered over the sound of the rotors. The chopper lifted off and began towards its destination. They could hear the jets screaming by outside, starting their attack runs on Nasirabad and Al-Fayoum.
Rounds of raucous shouting erupted in the chopper as the occupants cheered on the avenging arrows.
“Forty headbands!” Carolus shouted to Fahz, who seemed to carefully consider before he answered back.
“Fifty easy!” Fahz beamed.
Twelve helos flew in formation over the sands, ready to deliver their deadly cargo. The lead helo blasting music as it raced along just above the ground.
Fahz looked out the window and watched the impact of the artillery around the small outposts that dotted the landscape, smoke already rising in the distance.
“Three minutes to LZ!” the pilot reminded them. Fahz stood up and grabbed the fabric strap hanging from the ceiling, looking down at the two rows of men in the back.
“Three mikes! Cleared hot on landing, all contacts are to be eliminated with extreme prejudice!” he told them, letting out a high pitched shout as he finished his sentence.
Carolus watched as a rocket traced past the chopper door.
“RPGs!” Carolus shouted, placing his hand on the door latch.
“Let ‘em try, who gives a shit!” Fahz shouted back.
Fahz lived for this. A heart, body, and mind built for war.
“LZ in visual range!” the pilot called back.
Fahz pivoted to huddle by the door, reefing back on the bolt of his LMG, letting it slam back home. Carolus chambered the first round in his rifle and braced himself for the sudden descent.
The chopper descended rapidly, before hovering a few feet from the ground. The drop ramp in the rear came down, and the side door flew open, the occupants quickly filing out and taking positions several feet away. No sooner had the last pair of boots hit the ground than the pilot pulled away and turned back, ready to pick up the next load of troops. Nasirabad was visible in the distance, and the artillery barrage had already made some good holes. Parachutes could already be seen coming down from the sky.
“Move!” Fahz ordered. His men moving quickly down the hillside, making their way towards the town.
Omar could feel his heart beating in his chest as he ran. He was terrified, but he was in it now, he couldn't turn back. He could feel his palms sweating, and with every step forward he wanted nothing more than to throw the gun down into the sand and run away.
Forward he went.
The squad started to take small arms fire from the town once they were about two hundred meters out. The Diyari soldier behind Fahz caught a bullet in the shoulder, but it didn't even seem to slow him down. The artillery had stopped targeting the town, but the battle had already started to rage in the streets with the paratroopers already becoming a nuisance.
“Push up!” Carolus shouted, blindly returning fire on whoever was shooting at them from the second storey window of a nearby building.
“Push that structure!” Fahz ordered, pointing to the building, before stopping to take position behind an abandoned vehicle and laying suppressing fire on the window. Carolus slowed down until Omar caught up to him, grabbing the boy by the collar of his flak vest and wrenching him forward.
“Ephyrans lead the way!” he growled. Omar stumbled forward and pushed up to join the stack on the door of the building. The first man swapped the other side as the second man delivered a kick to the door, splintering the frame as it swing open, before being gunned down soon after, the man on the other side of the door swung in and delivered a burst of fire to the gunman's chest before stepping over his fallen comrade and pushing inside. An Iraelian next, Omar third, and Carolus right behind him as the rest of the squad circled to the other side. Carolus put his hand on Omar's shoulder and hustled him along.
“Guns up, moron!” Carolus hissed, Omar snapping his rifle to his shoulder and sweeping the area.
A man ran out from one of the rooms, directly Omar, who panicked and simply held down the trigger, emptying numerous rounds into the fleeing man before watching him stagger and slam down face first, his body bent backwards against the wall at an unnatural angle with his arm trapped against his body. Omar stopped to look, and heard the last gurgling gasps escape the man's lips. He was old, too old to be fighting, and he was unarmed.
Omar wretched and immediately threw up on his boots.
“No time for that!” Carolus urged, pushing Omar back in front of him, up the stairs. The other man from the stack had already begun sweeping the rooms. Omar wretched again as he fell in behind him.
One of the second floor shooters tried to ambush Carolus, charging him from a dark corner, resulting in Carolus dropping his rifle to the floor. Omar spun around, aiming at the hostile soldier. Carolus had already seized the man by his arms and threw him to the ground, before quickly and efficiently stomping on his head, a wet cracking resonating through the hall. The hostile shuddered for a few moments before becoming still as Carolus picked up his rifle.
“Probably two more still.” Carolus breathed heavily pushing past Omar. Fahz was likely keeping the other shooters pinned to one area.
“Fahz, lay off!” Carolus shouted into his radio, before slamming his shoulder through the door and leveling his rifle at the two terrified men in the corner who fumbled with their weapons as they tried to level them at the hulking figure in the doorway. Carolus fired from the hip, sweeping over the men, back and forth as he fired, the high caliber rounds tearing them apart. The second squad could be heard up on the third floor clearing out the rest of them. Carolus surveyed his handiwork and spit on the floor in the general direction of the eviscerated Al-Jabari shooters.
Omar was hyperventilating, desperately trying to catch his breath as he braced himself against a wall. Carolus simply pushed him along towards the third floor. Omar's heart pounded in his ears until all he could do was scream.
—----------------------------------------------------
It only took sixteen hours to lock down Nasirabad and Al-Fayoum, so for now, there was some quiet. Omar sat against the wall of the makeshift command center, staring up into the night sky as he shakily took another drag from a cigarette he'd bummed off of a Yektenian.
“Get used to it.” Carolus grumbled as he sat down next to Omar.
“How do you do it? Just pretend you didn't just kill somebody?” Omar asked.
“You don't pretend you didn't do it. You fully embrace it. Denial gets you nowhere.” Carolus explained. “Some stuff you never get used to, like hearing cartilage and ligaments tear from explosive force.”
“So I'm just supposed to accept that I killed that old man and left him leaning ninety degrees up a wall?” Omar scoffed, flexing his hands.
“Yeah. If you ever want to see Soph again.” Carolus stated
Omar stared at Carolus, almost as if searching for something.
“So what's the deal with you guys anyways? Shit’s been pretty weird with y'all for a while.” he said carefully, his tone carrying some sort of implication to it.
Carolus raised his eyebrows as he chewed on a protein bar and carefully considered his next words.
“Uhhh…well…she's fairly upset that you're here, among other reasons.” he grunted through chews. “She's also not super pumped that we're answering to the Iterian League for the duration of this operation, but…it is what it is.” he finished, finally choking down the chalky bite of chocolate and whey.
“No other reasons?” Omar scowled.
“What are you getting at, dude?” Carolus snapped, making a flippant gesture.
“Is that your child in her belly?” Omar asked him point blank. “I need to know in case I die out here.”
Carolus lazily dug into his pocket and grabbed a pack of cigarettes, handing one to Omar and lighting it for him before following suite.
“You sure you wanna have this conversation?” Carolus side-eyed him.
“Yep.” Omar said, staring dead ahead.
“It might be, yeah.” Carolus stated.
“When would that have happened?” Omar began the questioning.
“Right before the expulsion of socialist politicians.” Carolus answered, there was no point lying.
“How?” Omar asked coldly.
“I put her ankles by her ears and beat the shit out of her cervix in the backseat of the Blockade Runner, how the fuck do you think?” Carolus shook his head.
Omar grimaced and turned his head.
“Don't ask questions you don't want answers to.” Carolus said, almost trying to hide a smile.
“So you knew that I loved her, and you still did it.” Omar stated, almost as if trying to string everything together.
“Yes. I don't regret it.” Carolus answered.
Omar quickly stood and spun to face Carolus.
“You're an asshole, you know that? You've always been a fucking asshole. What Alara sees in you will always be beyond me, but you better believe I'm telling her as soon as I can.” Omar spat.
Carolus examined him before rising to his feet. Omar was tall for an Ephyran, but Carolus still towered over him.
“Wouldn't it be a shame if you fell from the roof up there and broke your neck?” Carolus asked, flexing the fingers on his right hand. “Wouldn't it be a shame if you got your fucking face blown off in a friend day fire incident? Wouldn't it be just a tragedy if you were to have some manner of terrible mishap, Omar?” Carolus advanced towards him.
Omar stepped back against the wall as Carolus closed in on him. Before he knew it, he had landed a thundering hook into Carolus’ jaw. Carolus staggered back, before a strange smile spread across his thin lips. Carolus answered back with a crushing uppercut as he charged forward. Omar felt his teeth break as the force of the blow slammed his jaws together before he crumpled to the ground.
“Ohhh boy, the choices we make out of anger, huh kid?” Carolus mocked as he kicked Omar in the ribs. “What…a…terrible…tragedy…that has befallen…the house…OF IRONHORSE.” Carolus grunted, kicking and stomping on Omar until he was out of breath.
“C’mon, get up.” Carolus challenged. Omar lay in the sand, not moving.
Carolus paused for a moment, before nudging Omar with his foot. Omar didn't make a sound. Carolus casually knelt down and listened for any type of breathing, and found none. Omar’s lifeless eyes stared down into the sand as Carolus drew his knife.
“See you on the other side kid.” Carolus hissed, as he drew the blade across Omar’s throat, before pushing him back down into the sand, and wiping the knife off on Omar’s back.
Carolus examined the situation for a moment before reaching down and picking up a handful of sand and throwing it into his own eyes. Once the tears started to fall, he began to scream for a medic, cradling Omar’s body as he feigned the screams of grief with horrifying accuracy.
When everything was said and done, Carolus blamed Al-Jabari for Omar’s slaying, vowing vengeance and wrath upon them as his men looked on. Even Fahz was fooled by the psychopathic charade playing out in front of everyone.
When Carolus figured he had everyone convinced, he snuck away from the encampment and wandered into the darkness. Now he had to find a way to spin it to Sophija.
Last edited: