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The Mad Bomber
Another one of my creations, hopefully this one won`t end up as a bad. It`s steampunk with airships and what not, the world is a fictional one with one huge land mass flanked by two other continents. You can make up places yourselves, if you want your characters to come from a certain type of places. Magic can also exist, if you want it to, it really makes no huge impact on the overall setting. I will be using some names etc influenced by european history, culture in describing the Imperium. Your characters can come from all walks of life as long as they have talents making them useful to the efforts of the group, they are apart of. The empire is inspired by the German/Russian empires.


On the continent of Eurepa, the main continent, The Rechsal Empire is the most dominant nation to have emerged after almost a hundred years of bloodshed. It`s armies, technology far superior to those of it`s enemies and the empire holds the rest of the remaining nations in a noose on the continent. Most notable of these Venek, Frank and Polsik Kingdoms, who share a third of the continent amongst themselves. Yet even now the empire is engaged in a bloody war with the Franks, which has ground to a halt with no clear winner. Political tensions are rising as The Prime Chancellor of the empire calls for a truce, but the emperor refuses these suggestions. Foreign nations look on worried at the situation yet also find it an opportunity because of the sudden falt of the imperial advance, even the nations on the other continents, Aesika, Kolombia and even the relatively small island nation of Britannica have theirs set on the events at the main continent. With the war going poorly the executive commanders of the armed forces have opted to engage their enemies in a different kind of war, one of agents and assasinations.

By secret imperial degree Colonel Anton Scheller was appointed in charge of these operations, forming the imperium`s first assasination squad known as `Invisible Hand`. Scheller scoured across the imperium to assemble the most talented agents available, tough some are considered utterly ruthless, of questionable loyalties and beyond redemption by the courts. Scheller, taking command of the Regina Caelorum(Queen Of Heaven) a warship disguised as a large merchant vessel gather his band of miscreants to engage the enemies of the empire in what would be an underhanded war.


1. NO ONE-LINERS (no one liners!!! NEVER!!!)
2. Blood, death, violence and swearing allowed, but let`s keep it within reasonable limits as always.
3. Romance is fine, just nothing too sexual.
4. Be serious, people; tough a comedic relief once in a while is appriciated...
5. No god-moding.
6. No controlling other RPers characters.
7. No killing another character without permission from that character's respectful RPer.
8. To improve the depth of the characters, make sure to think of a backstory that fits the setting, how the chaos and death has shook your characters life etc. Would be great if someone even made suggestions to me about my character having met your character in the past or somehow having been involved in their life.
9. Have fun!

Regina Caelorum


1. The main idea is that our characters are a part of the Invisible Hand, a team of gifted people (a very relative term) fighting an underhanded war, but if you want to have a character outside the team etc then contact me and we`ll discuss it.
2. Your character can be anything well within the realm of steampunk... Or well... as long as they prove useful to the team in some manner, they don`t even have to be a combat expert nor have any knowledge in that area.
3. Everyone has a past, you can either reveal some of it straight off the bat or bring it along as the rp progresses, but some basic facts are always nice.


Name: Abel Cromwell
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Former Profession: Smuggler

Abilities/Powers:Moderately skilled swordsman, extensive knowledge of the criminal underworld and contacts scattered across the land.
Weapons: Pistol sword(flintlock) as his primary armament, a stiletto as his sidearm and a small collection of smoke bombs and other tools, that help him in distracting or slowing his opponents.

Personality: Blunt, selfish, exploitative and dishonest to boot.
Strengths: Is able to take on problems on as they come(tough he tends to get frustrated or even scared), logical-thinker and suprisingly care-free.
Weaknesses: Cowardly, impatient, untrustworthy.


Abel Cromwell surfaced to the awareness of the imperial authorities, in the northern city of Holm, for having commited a theft and was eventually sentenced for a few months as there was very little proof to support, that he had actually stolen anything. Having served his months Cromwell disappeared from Holm only to appear three monts later aboard a merchant vessel at the other corner of the empire, serving as a crewmember of The Daring, whose reputation was stained as Cromwell`s. From that day forth Cromwell sat under the learning tree of his fellow smugglers aboard The Daring as they made runs all over the empire, even few across the ocean to the other continents. Managing to avoid imperial authorities for a number of years, The Daring was finally caught up by the imperial navy whilst carrying contraband from across the sea.

The smugglers made a run for it, but were mercilessly pounded by the imperial navy and sent crashing into the countryside. The survivors were rounded up and sent to be executed at the nearest town, Cromwell however was separated from the others just before the appointed hour and brought before Anton Scheller. It appeared, that Cromwell`s luck had not run out after all as Scheller was in fact looking someone with knowledge of covertly making runs in unfriendly territory without being targeted. Cromwell was immidiately puzzled by the fact as to why he was chosen, but chose to accept the deal without another word, choosing not to end up at the end of a noose.
Sorry for the delay, I'll post my profile as soon as I can!!!! >.<
(I'm sorry!! I know they're sucky but I was in a rush so just tell me if something's wrong)

Name: Charlotte Tempest
Gender: Female
Age: 19
Former Profession: Unknown

Abilities: (Pyrokinesis) - Charlotte can increase the internal temperature and/or the external temperature of any object, usually (and if focused) igniting it on fire.
Weapons: Daggertail

Personality: Always speaking politely no matter who she is talking to, Charlotte appears to be calm and collected at all times; however, the smile is simply a front as she is actually is quite cold and ruthless. Being both cynic and easily bored, she enjoys chaos...sleeping and just freaking out people with her eccentricities.
Strong points: Calm, fast and cunning.
Weak Points: Lacks interest, lazy and cynic.
If asked, many people would say Charlotte Tempest is the product of a broken home...sadly this afirmation is wrong in all senses since no home existed at all. Having no memory of her parents, and living in an orphanage for almost 10 years, her only problem seemed to be she had nothing to loose....
At 16, when she found about her "special abilities" Charlotte realized she was meant for greater things, so she did what any hormonal teenager would do: she ran away, just to found the world didnt have the same plans for her...
Finding herself close to starving and freezing to death in the streets, she started mixing with the underworld crowd...first she ran errands and delivered messages, and then she started stealing: first for survival, then for pure interest. At the end of what seemed the best year for her, the world decided to give her another lesson...and Charlotte Tempest was caught, so she played her last card.
After the fire had died out in her cell, she was brought before Anton Scheller, and she resigned herself to being burnt in the stake or something...expect she actually got a job offer.

No need to say she accepted it.


Name: Marcus Thorne
Gender: Male
Age: 23
Former Profession: Unknown. People called him a "shylock".

Abilities: Though he calls it a "natural talent" Marcus ability to alter or deceive the perceptions of other people is far from natural, as he has even managed to convince wealthy people that they are in dire need of money.
Weapons: Pair of revolvers he conceals in his jacket.

Personality: Possessing a hot-tempered attitude Marcus has the dry wit and sarcastic personality of a rebellious teenager. He always takes everything in his life with an uniterested attitude, claiming it's "troublesome" even when deep down he actually cares (usually trying to hide those feelings beneath a wisecracking facade of an adventurous tough-guy who would just as soon knock back a glass of any sort of alcohol and light a cigarette instead of doing what he's told to)
Strong points: Physically strong, good with improvisation, lacks something called "caution".
Weak Points: Cant take things seriously, likes to stress people, lacks something called "caution".

At the age of 18 Marcus Thorne had everything a young boy could ask: luxury, fun, and parents who were always willing to give them what he asked...literally.
At first, unaware of his abilities Marcus decided he was tired of living under his parents shadow, and that it was time to present himself to lending money to those who had enough power and enough influency to repay him later...
Before he knew it, he had a bussines all by himself and the money kept going in...until Marcus got himself into the wrong territory: convinced that what his "clients" needed was a firmer grip, he put too much pressure into the wrong people...
A few years later, he was acussed of fraud and the money stopped going in and started going out. In what he told himself was his last scheme, he appealed for his freedom with some "sweet talking". And that was the point when Marcus Thorne realized he wasnt normal, and that he had just made the worst mistake of his life...

After spending 6 months in jail Marcus met Anton Scheller who made him an offer he couldnt, and WOULDNT refuse...
The Mad Bomber
(This is a bit of a prequel, from my characters viewpoint, as we are waiting for a few profiles I decided to give a better explanation about my character and the situation he finds himself in.)

The Execution

The Imperial City Of Sumbria

The trumpets sounded as tough announcing the arrival of the all-mighty emperor himself, but instead of an emperor the people would have miserable wretches picked from all corners of the world to form a motley lot. In the place of a parade, there would have been a funeral march had it not been for the spiteful crowd mocking the men walking towards their inevitable fate. Where the emperor would have been sitting on a throne, these wretches were faced with the gallows, looming ominously in the center of the city square. The men sentenced to be hanged today sat quietly in their cells with a somber atmosphere weighing down on them. Not because of what they were about to lose, but because of what they had already lost and in the face of that death itself seemed like a welcome event. Their ship, The Daring had been reduced to pile of scrap lying on some forsaken mountain side, most of their friends had perished in the crash and most importantly there was nothing left for them to do, they were trapped.

A few of them had tried to brake out of their cells and even managed to knock out a guard in the process, admirably so until a squad of soldiers descended into the jail and butchered an entire cell with well aimed volley of musket fire. At that range only one had survived, wounded tough, the soldiers had left him to bleed under the bodies of his comrades. The man died some hours later whilst having begged for some kind of god for forgiveness and what had originally been twelve was finally reduced to seven. Whatever pittance of defiance left in the smugglers was snuffed out by the gory display of ruthlessness, some of them broke down mentally and almost cried themselves to sleep. The youngest amongst them, to survive that was, was a lad by the name of Abel Cromwell. Cromwell`s face was almost devoid of emotion, lest you count being tired one of those. His gaze was empty as were his thoughts, he was frightened to even think of what the next hour entailed, the painfully long suspense of building up to the kill. Their crimes would be read out loud, someone would tell them to beg the emperor forgiveness etc, a cheap theater if some one asked him.

It wasn`t like he hadn`t seen executions before, his pap had taken him to see a few in the day, maybe as a cautionary tale or maybe because everyone of his neighbors were going too, might have been the entire town for that matter. Not like it mattered, the old bugger had managed to get his head chopped off at a public venue no less. Like father like son, huh? That was not a very pleasant thought. At least he was keeping his head where it belonged, hopefully scrapping some of his dignity whilst he was throttling to death yet likely not. The cell door screeched open and the guard was tearing him from his seat, earning an frustrated rebuttal as Abel shoved them man aside. Straightening himself and grinning widely, he began to walk towards his doom. He joined line of ragged convicts in the dank corridor, exchanging somber nods with a few of them, as tough to say "Nice knowing you mate". The seven men began slouching up the stairs, towards the gleaming sunlight that burst from the open doorway. Leading the sorry lot was their first mate, lucky enough to have survived the crash with a few scratches, followed by crew member of varying ages, from the almost 50 to 20.

Being the last of the line, Abel was the last to feel the sun rays warming his face, which would have been a welcome change had the side effect not been the certain chance of death by strangulation. And... that`s when it hit him, his knee`s began to buckle and his stomach twisted itself around a couple of times. He was going to die, as in THE END, nothing was going to remain beyond that point save for a carcass cause he for one was not about to start praying on his knee`s for some non-existent deity, problem with those was that there were so damn many of them and it was hard to know which of em was the right one, if any, take your pick. Just as he was about to let out his nervous "here goes nothing" chuckle and step out to the city square, someone yanked him by the collar and pulled him backwards. Before knew it, two guards had grabbed him the armpits and were practically dragging him to a side corridor, the wrong way.

Dumbstruck by the sudden development, even horrified a bit, he tried to squeeze his way out of the guards grips, but was unsuccessful. By no means was Abel a small man, 6 feet and 2 inches, yet the guards happened to be made of sturdier stuff, whatever that might be. As he was about to vocally protest, the guards pushed a door aside and revealed an even more baffling sight before Abel. A long room flanking the city square, furnished with a single table in the middle, weapon racks littering the walls and a fireplace on the far right wall. At the aforementioned table sat an imperial officer, clad in a green uniform and the insignia indicating his rank decorated his jacket chest. On the table laid one sleek stiletto, a number of other small tools and one alarmingly familiar pistol sword in it`s scabbard, his sword no less. At a loss for words as he was seated down opposite the imperial officer, who seemed entirely content to be sipping on his tea whilst the guards made their exit back the way they came and closed the door behind them.

Only flanked by his adjutant, a young dark haired man in a similar uniform yet possessing less insignia like his superior, now the man at the table placed his cup aside. Taking a grip, Abel studied the man before him, his appearance suggested he was no youngster yet his hair remained perfectly blonde as they had been in his youth, albeit a bit dimmed. Clearly someone with the authority to interrupt an execution no doubt, his execution. Before he knew it he could see a shadow in the corner of his eye, something falling down and being suddenly stopped in mid-fall. As he glanced outside he could see one of his comrades already hanging at the end of a noose, the first mate, old bastard must have opened his mouth and cursed every single god known to man or simply called the executioners mother a pig, which ever did the trick. Shaking his eyes from the unpleasant sight Abel glared at the officer before him and then at the weapons assembled on the table before him, the officer across made note of this.

"Contemplating on killing me Mr.Cromwell?" The officer inquired

"Wouldn`t dream of it... Colonel. I doubt the lieutenant would like the idea very much and I think I can be a hundred coins on the fact, that sword of his would pierce my heart before I managed to grab a hold of my sword." Abel replied cautiously and indicated at the adjutant with a tilt of his head.

"You are well versed in the ranks of the imperial army, no wonder we had a hard time catching your people, you could have sniffed an imperial bloodhound miles a way no doubt." Scheller commended Abel on his insight, most civilians didn`t know a lieutenant for a major.

"Or a Frank one for that matter." Abel added, feeling slightly more comfortable as he was not being faced with the gallows, albeit he could see them and the corpses of his comrades hanging in the corner of his eye. He also tried to ignore the roaring of the crowd and concentrate on whatever they wanted out of him.

"So I`ve been led to believe." Scheller commented with a dry tone and leaned forward, glaring a hole through Cromwell, which made him visibly uneasy. "Many people have told me, including my adjutant here, that normally you shouldn`t be even breathing at this very moment...." He continued with a lowered voice, but it was as tough he was telling a secret instead of threatening him.

"And these aren`t normal circumstances?" Cromwell followed up on the thought, that Scheller had left hanging in the air, yet couldn`t help feeling terribly unease about his current situation.

"They are exceptional, Mr. Cromwell as the empire isn`t in the habit of pardoning any of it`s death-row convicts. The emperor frowns upon such weakness as it is his personal view, that people like you are a plague, which corrupts his domain from within. Yet... maybe there is merit in that... maybe if your ability for mischief was turned to fuel the welfare of his domain, past crimes could be overlooked, and future services rewarded even. Ecspecially in a time when the empire was in dire need of those willing to serve it through one form or another." It was as tough Scheller was dangling a prize in front of Abel, who was now desperate to avoid his fate at whatever the cost, he was no longer grasping for straws.

Abel leaned backwards in his chair with a contemplating and troubled look on his face "You want me to work for the imperium?" He inquired after a moment of silence, obviously Scheller knew how to work a desperate man to do his bidding, like a ruthless loan shark. "I`m no soldier..." Abel leaned in forward with an apologetic look on his face, hiding a grin.

"If the imperium needed another soldier I would have increased recruiting in some backwater province." Scheller sneered, expressing his contempt at the notion, that mere military might was the key to victory. Scheller chuckled a bit afterwards at his sudden outburst and steered the conversation back on it`s right track."I wanted to recruit you because of your experience with other cultures and knowing how to avoid detection in enemy territory, in other words the tools a smuggler requires. I need those expertise, and a couple of others, in order to ensure that my new venture goes smoothly. I call it `The Invisible Hand`, a ship and a group of agents infiltrating enemy territory to strike key targets within. A war fought in the shadows, if you will." Scheller explained with ambition blazing in his eyes, a bad sign, if Abel ever saw one.

"I understand why you need someone like me... but... why me?"

"Do you see anyone else left?" Scheller responded with a witty smile on his face and tilted his head to the side as, if Cromwell couldn`t see the corpses hanging at the gallows.

"Good point, where do I sign up?" Abel hastily muttered as tough he was, quite literally, looking for a piece of paper to sign his name on.

"You already have." Scheller said as he motioned for his adjutant to act.

The lieutenant marched to Cromwell and unchained the cuffs, the young smuggler rubbed his wrists, thankful for being free of the metal around them. He would have felt an overwhelming wave of relief had his eyes not been been locked on the gallows, at the seven people hanging by the nooses. He had been about to ask about how they were going to explain his disappearance, yet closed his mouth without a word. Only now he realized, that there had been seven people hanging at the gallows all along and he had merely been too distracted to notice. Abel couldn`t help, but chuckle as he equipped himself with the weapons spread out on the table.

"Didn`t think there was going to be an afterlife."

Cromwell remarked with wide smirk on his face, making sure the adjutant hear it, as the two living men and one dead man left the room.
((Sorry it took a while to post. I've been pretty busy lately.))

Name: Thea (last name unknown)
Age: 18
Gender: female
Appearance: this
Weapons/Abilities: that
She wears a necklace (hidden under her shirt), and the jewel in its pendant can temporarily transform (into anything, but Thea usually just uses it for weapons, usually a pistol or a pole/sword).
Personality: Sarcastic and bold, and rarely ever serious. She is self-confident and opens up to people easily.
Strengths: Eager, loyal, bold, listens to her superiors
Weaknesses: Sometimes too quick to act on things or to jump into battle, over-confident, stubborn (but a team player)
History: Thea was orphaned as a young child, though she believes that her father was hanged for some crime against the empire. She then grew up on the streets along with a gang of children/teenagers who were, for one reason or another, also orphaned or abandoned by their parents. Although the members of the gang were very close and worked together to survive, there was a hierarchy, where the older kids were superior, and it took a while for Thea to gain any superiority. This gang participated in many acts of violence, including robbery and assault (and murder, on rare occasions). When Thea betrayed the code of her gang by questioning the leader, she made a successful escape (though it took many tries), and started to live on her own (though her living conditions were tough) for a year. She was on her last leg when she was recruited into The Invisible Hand.
The Mad Bomber
(We are kicking off, those that still are going to/want to, PM your profiles to me and I will add them to my first post.)

Only weeks later Cromwell found himself standing in another prison, this time on the other side of the bars, staring down on a red-head gal, who had put on quite spectacle a few nights ago. According to the guards testimonies, she had conjured flames out of thin air and set the anything flammable within rage alit. Abel had always known, that there were people in this world, who just weren`t right, then lo and behold his first teammate to be was one of them, oh joy joys. Still, like with himself, it didn`t take too long for Scheller to dance around the point to have the answer he`d been looking for. After that it was off to another town and another crook. This time around it was some snobbish-blonde haired punk who had gotten himself in too deep with the wrong people. Like before there was little questioning the guy`s talent and the answer he`d be giving to Scheller. They`d be going around the empire, picking people up along the way and while the whole recruitment rodeo ran around, Abel was busy at work making sure everything on the ship looked as inconspicuous as possible.

After all the nasty join-or-die business, they finally managed to gather around to have a little chat while drinking tea, as if. The mood couldn`t have been anymore troubled in their quarters aboard the Regina Caelorum, none of them barely said a word to one another and most of the time they were simply too busy with tasks arranged by Scheller. Whenever they landed Scheller would have some of them go out and commit some felony without being caught, as a training of sorts or he was merely monitoring their abilities for themselves. None of that for Abel tough, he`d be too busy bribing port officials, invoking some of his old contacts and running rough shot on some old friends in order to gather every bit of information. Not that he had anything to complain about tough, this is what he`d been doing for a living for the past four years so there was little to be troubled about.

Yet when the familiarity and routine came to an abrupt end, Abel was in a sour mood as he found himself sharing quarters with complete strangers. Each of them had their separate rooms, which connected to a moderate sized hall. Apparently Scheller had seen enough and they were restricted to their little pen until further notice, apparently there were still some team members, who hadn`t made it aboard so they were waiting for their arrival. Abel sighed heavily as he sat down a large wooden table in the hall, his hands moved in unison as the left removed the cap on his head and the right placed his coffee cup on the table. Abel set his cap on the table beside his coffee before glaring at the others in the room, whose names he could barely remember. It was about all he knew of them, besides the fact that they were crooks, each of them in their own right. Abel could suddenly feel his right palm itching and he couldn`t help, but grin as the back of his palm was covered by an X brand mark, which he had received when he had been placed on death row. It was a nasty way of ensuring escapees usually found their way back to the gallows and it supposedly help the grave diggers to identify, whose bodies they were going to dump in some unnamed mass grave.

"Guess we all got some rotten luck?" Abel ventured as tough he wasn`t really expecting an answer from anyone to begin with as he took a sip from his coffee.
"Rotten luck? Aint that an interesting thing to hear from a man who should be dead?" The red haired girl said as a small smirk sneaked into her lips, and her gloved fingers started tracing the rim of her tea cup, almost as if that simple movement could sooth her.
Charlotte's comment had been quite straightforward, and even her -in all her blunt persona- could accept that, but it had seemed quite appropiate when the guy had been staring at her as if she had suddenly grown two heads. Propping herself up into a nearby counter she started talking again. "Word on the street says no one even noticed the difference...then again people tend to do that with criminals" She whispered sofly, almost as if sharing a secret "Anyway, no offense, I just though it was pretty impressive" She said as she shrugged innocently, her words clearly carrying a double edge.

Marcus straightened his jacket, fixing nonexistent wrinkles, as he pretended the ongoing conversation had nothing to do with him. Expect it had EVERYTHING to do with him, they were his "co-workers" for f*!@s sakes! And they were deffinetly....different people.
It wasnt as if he was getting cold feet...being there was 10 times better than rotting in jail, plus he had managed to get away from the people that got him in jail in the first place. It would have been a matter of time till the guards found him lying dead in his cell...
Cringing softly his eyes went back to scanning the smuggler and the red haired girl whose name he kept forgetting. A dead man and a pyro of some sorts. It wasnt as if he hadnt heard the rumors...he HAD been in jail for 6 months, he knew what kind of people they were...or so he thought.
The Mad Bomber
Abel didn`t bother reading any deeper into her words than what they appeared to be or merely disregarded the double-edge in them. Outright it would have appeared, that he must have looked at her the wrong way, his facial expression had betrayed his discomfort regarding people such as herself. Seeing as they said, that first impressions were an important thing, he had managed to plant some painfully tiresome conversations for their future, unless she was like this towards everyone. Abel shrugged and smirked in response before taking another sip of his coffee, a tad bit more nervous this time around.

"You`d be amazed by the things you can get away with when you`ve been credited being dead."

Abel responded with an amused tone in his voice and his words had a double-edge to them as well. She was certainly entitled to her venomous approach, maybe she did that in order to spite him or she merely enjoyed, that kind of games. Abel glanced at their third member, who seemed to be quite observing the situation some feet away. The blonde haired punk didn`t seem to be any more comfortable with the situation than either of them, but that always beat rotting in a cell. Abel allowed the loan shark to have his peace for a moment longer.

"To be quite honest I didn`t imagine, that I would have to work with someone such as yourself Charlotte. Or do you prefer to be called Tempest? Name`s Abel by the way, not that you haven`t heard it, but remembering peoples names isn`t really my strong suit.... so I can`t blame you for forgetting mine."

Abel continued the conversation in a friendly fashion all tough the underlying tone hinted at a slight discomfort regarding her powers. It may have been intentional or sub-concious, but Abel did little to hide his opinion of her powers.
"Charlotte" She mumbled, almost as if her own username was an insult all by itself. "And I know who you are...I who both of you are..." She said as her smirk came back as quickly as it had left "A famous smuggler and a famous swindler..." She was saying when Marcus quickly interrupted her "Shylock, I prefer the term "shylock"...not a swindler...there's a difference" He said as a smug grin sneaked into his expression "And I might have heard some rumors as well -not from the most reliable sources- but I do know what people like you can do" He said as he rubbed his chin "People like me? Now what exactly do you mean when you say "people like me"?" She said as she leaned back, and her calm -and almost bored gaze- went from Marcus to Abel.
The Mad Bomber
"A charlatan?"

Abel spoke, as soon as her eyes darted back to him and he felt compelled to blurt out the very first word, that came to mind. A split-second later his words degraded into uncontrolled laughter, which succumbed to chuckling towards the end. The mere notion, that her abilities were akin to a parlor trick came across as hilarious to Abel yet judging by her appearance it may have been entirely plausible. Subsequently, the very word rhymed with and even sounded like, her name, Charlotte The Charlatan. As the last dregs of laughter died out in his lungs, Abel raised his open palms in the air with an apologetic expression on his face.

"Sorry, sorry, I shouldn`t laugh." Abel snickered. "But the irony does little to escape me at the moment... oh and about that `famous smuggler` part, I`d rather not go that far. I am more akin to an apprentice of a famous smuggler or the last surviving crew member of a famous smuggler ship."

Abel went on to correct Marcus`s previous comment, Abel most certainly did not hope he wasn`t known as a famous smuggler. Those people usually tended to end up dead before long, the really good one`s usually knew how to stay under the radar.
The awkward silence that followed his comment was almost physically painful, as Charlotte stared at him and Marcus cringed: the first one trying to figure out if that was supposed to be an actual insult, the former wondering if this would be an everyday thing.
"Right...cause that's really relevant right now" The girl mumbled as she sneered at the irony of the current situation. "Anyway -as much as it PAINS to me destroy this aura of seriuousness we have right now- I gotta ask: what are exactly are we doing here?" Marcus asked bluntly "Dont get me wrong, there's nothing I love more than running around doing random stuff, I'm just curious..." He said as he shrugged innocently.
The Mad Bomber
"Well getting a sense of humour would be first on your priority lists."

Abel unhelpfully input a snarky comment, which he felt wasn`t really needed to calm their unease. Abel sighed heavily, as neither of them seemed to have a clue how Scheller operated, before slowly consuming more of his coffee. From what Abel could tell, the man had made a habit of letting people wait and letting doubts soak in before his own arrival. Like a master manipulator, Scheller would need only show one of his hands to achieve his goals, while staying the other behind his back. Truth be told Abel was not a very patient man lest he found something to toy around with, which was the trigger for initiating their conversation.

"Didn`t the colo... Scheller say anything to you about this? We are to stay put until further instructions, but IŽll agree, that waiting around for something to happen is somewhat of an annoyance."

Not a moment too soon, the door to the hall swung open and lo behold, Anton Scheller strolls in as tough he had just arrived. Irritable snob had been lying in wait as soon as he had heard the voices from the hall and probably even enjoyed the whole facade. Abel`s hostile thoughts vanished as soon as he turned to Scheller and inclined his head in order to greet the man, thankfully the good colonel was not in the habbit of asking them to salute him every time he stepped on deck, something that some of the crew members failed to comply to. They couldn`t have their crew members snapping their heels together and making the imperial salute every time the colonel passed by, in enemy territory someone was bound to notice those kinds of things. At least Scheller was no longer wearing a military uniform, which would have been a dead sure giveaway. The colonel had donned a typical suit, fitting a merchant, which he was supposedly masqurading as.

Scheller did not seem at all distracted by the three pair of eyes boring into him as he entered the room, after all this was a man, who had been stared at by the emperor himself, now there was a stare. The colonel placed a bundle of files, which he had been carrying around in his armpit, on the table before taking a seat at the end of it. He glanced at the two others, who remained apart from the table, but did not command them to come closer. Scheller made no indication of an apology for making them wait.

"I see your getting finally acquainted, tough I must apologize for Abel`s crass comments, having spent all that time running mind-numbing errands, I think his comedic talents have degraded drastically, if they existed at all. Yet all kidding aside, since you seem so eager I am here to provide you an opportunity to vent, that enthusiasm so I`ll get straight to the point."

Abel remained unphased by the colonel`s comments as his fingers began to drum the table in a slow rhythm. Scheller obliged and flung out a photo across the table, which ended under Abel`s palm. Abel glanced at the photo depicting three men, who seemed awfully good friends by the looks of it and obscenely rich for that matter. Judging by the fashion of their clothes they were franks, which came as little surprise, they seemed to be from 30 to 40 years of age.

"Frankish noblemen, so what or who are we looking for here?" Abel inquired raised an eyebrow whilst passing around the photo of what appeared to be their target to be.

"The linchpin." Scheller said with a steady voice, his eyes filled with an obsessive glare.

"Excuse me?" Abel inquired in return as he failed to follow Scheller`s point.

"Duke Giraud, the man with the mustache in the picture." Scheller aided and drew a piece of paper cut from a newspaper. The piece covered possible peace negotiations to the current war and those in charge of the possible peace talks. It featured a picture of the same man, Duke Giraud. Giraud was a tall, well-built man with short cut, dark hair and a thin mustache. Apparently he was an experienced commander forced to retire due to an injury, respected by enemy and friend alike for his fair judgment. Giraud had found a new calling as a diplomat and was currently involved in some work regarding peasants, who were on the verge of revolting due to heavy war taxes and levies. It didn`t take a genius to connect the dots, Giraud wanted peace and the emperor did not, wasn`t too hard to figure where they were heading next. It wasn`t just, that this particular region in question was an abundant supplier of supplies to the frankish war effort, making the negotiations currently under way important to the war effort, hindering them would work in the empire`s favor.

"So a man of honor is looking to spoil the emperor`s fun, well we wouldn`t want that now would we?" Abel expressed his opinion sarcasticly, in truth he didn`t like this one bit. Not the setting, not what they were assigned to do nor the familiarity of it all. Too many common factors, too many bad memories, just bad overall. Worst of all Scheller probably knew, the damned hyena knew, that why he disliked this affair from the get go. Nothing of the joviality remained on Abel`s face as he read through the newspaper article with a frown on his face.

"I want him removed, use whatever methods you see fit, but under no circumstances must you implicate imperial or any outside involvement in this matter. We do not want anyone to have any reason to suspect a third party may have had a hand in this. You must infiltrate either side and make them seem as the aggressor, otherwise you have free reign as a collective and as long as the end game remains the same. We are travelling to the Monet region of the Frankish Kingdom, where Duke Giraud is negotiating with a rebel faction to achieve internal peace in the kingdom, sabotaging those negotiations is also your objective. Remove Giraud and escalate the inner conflict in the region. The rest of the team is already aboard getting situated, you might meet them soon enough, depending on the circumstances."

"Any thoughts?" Abel asked generally as he leaned back in his chair and glanced at the others for their input as he was reluctant to give his.
"I've no sense of humor that I'm aware of...A flaw of mine, I realize, but I think it might help as a balance to your…quirks" She mumbled as she smirked in pure malice. Sadly for them all, the tension that they had managed to "lighten up" quickly came back as Scheller appeard, and started talking about their new mission...

As Abel asked for their opinions, the reactions were once again less than eager. Marcus lighly rubbed his chin "I'm no expert, but since we're talking about political issues, maybe making this whole thing look like a trap would light up the right sparks for more conflict..." He mussed as he looked at them "He's some sort of war, heroe right? Getting to him wont be easy, they're probably expecting some sort of sabotage..." The red haired girl as she looked at the photo curiously "Perhaps if we infiltrate someone?"
The Mad Bomber
"The rebels or the local garrison, not that either of them will be easy. We`ll have to see what we can learn once we have arrived in the region and infiltrate the rebels afterwards, should be easy enough for us to masquerade as disgruntled young people, who feel passionately about the current state of the country. People like these are always desperately short on people, who are willing or able to act for the best interest of their cause. We don`t need to be local in order to garner some trust and as it just so happens, I have a perfect method for bartering our way into the rebel camp."

Cromwell explained with a focused look in his eyes, but underneath he seemed disgruntled for having to take part in this operation. His professionalism was the only thing keeping his personal feelings in check and Scheller knew, that most likely. The part about having a perfect way to join the rebels was a blatant lie, which Abel blurted out just to please Scheller and get him off his back as soon as possible. He wasn`t the type to use personal matters to gain an advantage unless he had a no choice and luckily he did have a choice in the matter. Abel glanced at the duo, who seemed to get the gist of what they would have to do, but Scheller had an awfully plain way of putting things. As Charlotte had put it, the actual assassination would be nothing more than bordering on impossibility, they would have to be able to turn the rebels into the scapegoats and manage to slip away without ever being discovered on top of all that. It was a tall task to be sure, but Cromwell knew how to trust his instincts and they were telling him, he wouldn`t have to be afraid to pull any punches on this one.

"I will have our information network prepare to spread the news all over the country when you accomplish your mission, this way we will be able to control the story spreading to some extent, but as long as the people in this region believe it first will the rest of the world follow. You may retrieve anything you require from our supplies for this mission, we will be arriving in some 8 hours, in the meantime I suggest you hatch a plan."

Scheller said before he proceeded to make his way out as tough he had no more part in all of this, most likely wanting to test them yet Abel had a sneaking suspicion, that someone would be eavesdropping on them and documenting every detail of their plans. Not that it mattered tough, to Abel it didn`t at least, but he wasn`t quite certain about his two newfound `friends`. As Scheller departed, Abel began to glance through the bundle of files Scheller had left to their disposal.

"Aside from the infiltration, we will need to find a way to kill the duke discreetly and make it appear as tough the rebels would have had a hand in it." Abel muttered and instinctively went for his jacket pockets, but stopped at the last moment, deciding against drawing out some item. "Yet infiltrating the rebels should be our first step, thankfully Scheller`s local informant has indicated various local gathering places of theirs, which include a few bars and restaurants, ideal places to start. Looks like, that man has been preparing this kind of action longer than I thought. He has managed to identify a few rebel members and so forth, at least the empire has something going it`s way. The best information network money can buy. I think we need to pass ourselves off as foreign revolutionaries or idealists, looking to join their cause... unless either of you have any frankish roots? Also we`ll need to somehow convince them of our worth, maybe I can offer use of my smuggling contacts for weapons and what not... by the way I don`t think we can pass Shylock off as a young idealistic rebel with that set of clothing, they aren`t fooling anyone in that scenario."

Abel rationalized their task and situation, but managed to slip in another off-hand comment concerning his team-mates. If they wanted to hide behind the concept of a revolutionary, he wasn`t too keen on thinking, that they could pass shylock as one. The kid from a wealthy family didn`t exactly strike him as capable of being the rebel type, but they might somehow manage to sneak him into the ranks of the local authorities on a short notice. Having both sides infiltrated would make their work twice easier on the long run, but trickier to begin with.
But instead of looking insulted, Marcus actually looked quite pleased with the comment "Not gonna disagree on that...I might not be able to pass as a "young indealistic rebel" but I'm pretty sure I'll be able to play ANY other part better than the two of you..." He said as he shrugghed "No offense of course...I'm just stating what I see" He mumbled as his eyes scanned his companion's appearences. "I might have been rotting in jail for some time but that dosent change the fact that I am a nobleman, and my family's influence still remains strong" He stated dryly.
"That could work...ONLY if people still havent heard of your little fraud..." Charlotte mumbled bluntly. "That's not important...I can come up with something easily" He grumbled as he send an icy glare to the red head.
The Mad Bomber
Abel was able to take little comfort in the fact, that at least all of them seemed to be on equal footing with one another. Each of them had their reservations regarding acting as a unit and none of their reasons for being here were the same, there was little room left for being pleasant. Abel glanced back and forth between the two of them as their sights were directed at one another. Cutting in between the argument, Abel carried the conversation onwards and felt as, if he was about to say something inappropriate.

"I actually agree." Abel admitted regarding Marcus`s point. "Based on what I know about you, you have the best chances of infiltrating the local authorities and getting close to Duke Giraud. Yet I don`t actually think, that your imprisonment should prove to be a matter. In my experience noble families have a reputation to guard so in accordance to, that your family would try their best to keep the matter under wraps, but I trust to know that better than I."

Abel scrambled through the reports and profiles bundled together before he presented the rest of them with the latest report. According to the report, the Duke would be arriving in two days to take charge of the negotiations, but some of his men were already at the scene, creating the groundwork for the meeting. Naturally there was no date nor place set yet, but as soon as it there would be, they would need to know of it and be there. There was still one other issue regarding their stay at the Monet region, they couldn`t use this ship as a base of operations unless they wished to implicate their masters abode should they be discovered.

"I think it goes without saying, that we will need to defer from gathering once we have begun our infiltration unless it is critical to the success of the operation and we can`t use this place. Too many things could go wrong and using this place would be more disasterous at that point in time. I guess we`ll have to use whatever rooms we are able to procure in the city of Nairn, where we`ll make landfall... right I think, that just about covers it unless you had something relevant to add at this time. If not I have a few things I need to get straightened out before we land."

Abel reasoned, but seemed anxious to depart all of the sudden as he seemed to have a few things to carry out before leaving the ship.


No less than two hours since their arrival, Abel along with his teammates found themselves admist bickering townsfolk, who had gathered at a local tavern. A tavern, which an imperial informant had indicated as a gathering place for local rebel sympathizers. Amongst those gathered there that day was a man named Ghredal, who made little effort to remain invisible, having occupied the center stage so to speak. He had began ranting as to how the king was engaging in a pointless war and how their families had to pay the price whilst the king himself led a luxurious life in the safety of his palace. Needless to say these were arguments any rebel couls have made, but the current political climate gave actual weight to his words and Ghredal found more than one person agreeing with him.

Some three feet away from the local spokesman, sat the trio, who had just recently arrived and found themselves standing in the midst of a powder keg. All that was required was for someone to create a spark and blow it all to smithereens. Abel nursed his beer in a quiet fashion, occasionally glancing at the man obsessively continuing his rant. He was barely listening to what poured out of the man`s mouth until he suddenly heard an contrary argument brought forth amongst the crowd. It became more apparent, that a divide existed amongst the common public and not everyone was unhappy with the current situation. Abel raised an eyebrow to see a guardsman standing at the door of the tavern and procceding towards the rebellious man, slandering the king and his actions. This tavern had been indicated as a gathering place for local rebel sympathizers, but it appeared that the guards were also aware of this, which made it seem as tough the rebels were just picking a fight by continuing to gather here. No doubt more guards were waiting outside, waiting for a reason to rush in and subdue the local troublemakers.

Abel turned to the others, even if the rebels weren`t going to rip the guard apart, the situation itself presented an opportunity. They could incite a fight and pick their sides publicly, Marcus could aid the guard getting away and gain a good image with the local authorities, as tough they wouldn`t swoon over his already impressive, albeit fake, social standing. Meanwhile Abel himself and Charlotte could grab a hold of Ghredal, in hopes of extracting some information out of him.

"I think this crowd needs a little nudge in the right direction." Abel said with a smirk flashing across his face. "Marcus, make sure aid the guards and get yourself in good graces with the local authorities as planned. Meanwhile the two of us will get Ghredal out of here and have him lead us to the rebels. From there on out, we`ll meet behind this bar in the alleys in two days, whih should be enough time for us to extract whatever information we need."

Abel whispered to them, glancing to his side occasionally, keeping an eye on the developing argument, which was about to blow at any moment.
"A nudge? We could drop a pin and these people would tear off eachother's faces..." Marcus mumbled as he looked at the current scene in clear disdain "So...let's say the guards ask me what the hell was I doing here, what should I tell them: that I felt it was my duty to randomly get myself into other's regions bussines or that I was just in the neighborhood and decided to say "Hi"? Which one is more inconspicuous?" He asked sarcastically as he fixed his jacket "I'm just curious...cause there's no way this plan could possibly fail" He muttered dryly. "Getting cold feet?" Charlotte sneered as she looked at him "Not really, just concerned of my lack of knowledge in the "bar-fight" to enlighten me in the subject?" He asked as he smirked evilly "Well, let me make this as monosyllabic as possible: I dont really care what you think of me...infact, if you listen closely you can hear the sound of me not giving a f*!@..." She whispered mockingly as both of them just ended glaring at eachother before they turned toward Abel "So...who's gonna drop the pin?" Charlotte asked.
The Mad Bomber
The proverbial pin drop manifested itself in the form of slightly drunken patron sending his flying pint at the guard, who had stepped in to challenge the rebels authority. As the glass shattered on impact against the guards skull, the rest of the room descended into a frenzy and started beating the living hell out of each others. To add to the chaos a full squad of guards stormed in and began systematically knocking down anyone, who opposed them.

"Be a good-citizen or play a victim, whichever his highness prefers."

Abel stated his mocking opinion before glancing towards his own target, Ghredal was trying to get out of dodge and the guards were heading straight for him. Abel smirked slightly as thing became livelier and began slipped out of his chair into the brawling mass of humanity. Occasionally he would have to squeeze his way past fighters and dodge uncordinated punches, which graced his head. Just as he was about to reach Ghredal someone yanked him by the collar and threw him back first onto the floor. A local man, who did not seem to care on whose side he was on, tried to stomp Abel`s face in and Abel rolled out of the way just in time. Grasping for anything of immidiate use, since he couldn`t draw his sword in such an enclosed space, Abel`s hand landed on a bottle rolling around. When the man reached for Abel`s collar again, Abel swung the bottle at the man`s lowered head, effectively knocking him out.

Casting aside the bottle Abel continued moving towards the back door on his hands and knee`s in order to avoid further attention, consequently it made moving around a lot easier and a couple of the brawlers managed to be tripped on him. Abel found Ghredal again, at the back door, but this time being held down by two guards. These men had come aaround the back and the poor rebel had run straight for them, Abel sprang to his feet and glanced around for any sign of Charlotte. Without being able to use his sword within a limited time frame, Abel doubted his ability to take down the two guards, if they proved resilient by any degree. The switchblade flashed in Abel`s hand as he ran towards the guards, the blade cut shallow, painting the floor crimson with a tint of blood. The guard staggered back, holding his hand and turning to face the new threat. This allowed Ghredal to have an even struggle with the other guard, but if they wanted to get away in time before the rest of the guards settled the situation, then Charlotte would have to show that she was actually worth something.
Suddenly there was a loud crash, and wood splinters flied all over the place as Charlotte stood over a unconscious guard with a broken stool in her hands " least it worked" She muttered as Ghredal gave her a puzzled look.

Suddenly -among all the chaos- two gunshots rang, and Charlotte turned around to see Marcus standing on a chair, his revolvers aimed at the ceiling. In less than a second the situation became a real mayhem, as people were either running or dropping down into the floor for protection. Fighting her way through the panicking crowd she managed to get a hold of Ghredal coat and grab Abel's arm "Let's get out of here!" She yelled to make herself heard above all the other voices as she felt herself being pushed into the mass of people.
The Mad Bomber
Before the gunshots were fired, Abel was pre-occupied with the wounded guard, who made an effort to take down his assailant. Abel was forced make split second dodge, tumbling to the floor while the guard got tripped by Abel`s feet and was sent crashing admist the crowd. The two gunshots pierced his hearing and he could only hope, that those guns belonged to Marcus. Charlotte yanking him by his arm, helped him stumble back onto his feet and to his noticable relief she had got a hold of Ghredal. Abel agreed wholeheartedly with her suggestion and did not waste a heartbeat before starting to make his way towards the back door. Struggling through the last of the crowd, Abel pushed his way to the back door and found that it lead to an abandoned kitchen, which had a direct exit to the alley. Abel lead Charlotte and their newfound `friend` out of the building to the alley.

Upon emerging outside, Abel was still clutching to his bloodied switchblade, in fact he was grasping to it so hard his knuckles had turned white. The fresh air did nothing for his pounding heart, but at least they did not stumble onto more guard, which Abel thought was either lucky or suspicious. Discarding the irrelevant thoughts, Abel glanced at Ghredal, who seemed at least grateful, but seemed to be expressing a healthy degree of paranoia.

"As you realize Mr.Ghredal we have limited time and pursuers, we need a safe place to lay low, the lengthy explenation as to why we are helping you can wait for later. Unless you prefer we continue this conversation in a jail?"

Ghredal nodded before glancing back at the kitchen door, but as none of his compatriots emerged, he chose to defer to Abel`s lead. Abel nodded, satisfied, that the man did not choose to difficult and seemed to have some degree of intellegence. The trio disappeared to the back alleys of the city, heading for a hotel where Abel had arranged rooms for them.


Having safely made their escape and made sure they were not being tailed, Ghredal`s demeanor seemed to become slightly more aggressive, but he did not say a word as they entered the hotel of Abel`s choosing. This particular hotel offered privacy and service, no questions asked, mainly due to it`s nature as a base of one dominant criminal in the city. Upon arriving in the room Abel had rented for himself, he cast aside his cap and sat down at chair by a small coffee table. The room was unspectacular at best, having only the necessities, but it was far from being uncomfortable. Ghredal glanced around the room, nervously, then at Abel as he motioned for him to have a seat.

"Abel Cromwell at your service." Abel said and added a small theatherical bow into his introduction, his face adorned with an amused expression. "You have questions no doubt Mr. Ghredal? Why am I sticking my neck out to help you? Well as you must have discerned thus far, I know things including every little detail of your life and most importantly, that you are in fact a rebel recruiter for this part of the city."

Ghredal did not seem at all impressed as he took a seat nor threatened by Abel`s smug attitude, he merely glanced at Charlotte before turning to Abel, apparently the man had already formulated an opinion of the two.

"You two are criminals." He pointed out accusingly, knowing fully well what kind of people the owners and customers of the hotel were.

"Would that not indicate you one as well?" Abel rebuked the claim with an accusation of his own.

"That`s not how I see it." Ghredal stubbornly argued.

"Nor do we." Abel said with smirk flashing across his face.

"Then pray tell, what might you be?" Ghredal inquired raising his eyebrows and turning to look at Charlotte, which Abel to turn to her as well for an answer, hoping she could present herself as a rebellious idealist or something akin to that.


As the chaos subsied, the guard squad leader, a tall man with dark hair approached Marcus, who had been spared from brutality. The guards would have had a tougher time taking down the brawlers had those shots not been fired so they owned him in a manner of speaking.

"First off I appriciate what you did for us.... secondly I`d like to know who you are and what you are doing here. Your clothing is hardly commonplace and neither are those pistols, they don`t seem exactly cheap."

The man speculated with a discerning voice.
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