ROLEPLAY

Virg lazily sat atop the viewing deck of the stable tower rocking back on his stool. He gently sipped at his Shooki Beer enjoying the sunlight streaming across the camp. Today had been an amusing day. Yenno the great pretender had been stalking him and constantly attacking him when he was engaged in training. Virg snorted to himself, 'As if that half-wit could ever actually kill him when he was ready. He might as well make the most of it as he hardly knew which end of the axe to swing'. Indeed Yenno had actually failed to hit Virg standing there naked a few times drawing laughter from his training group.

A noise caused Virg's ears to prick up 'An izam in hidden source.. clearly someone is getting a message'. He stood up swaying slightly, his head buzzing a gentle thrum of happiness and looked to see where the source of the noise was coming from. What he saw caught him unawares. Instead of using the Izam's preferred method of travel a homin had actually decided to take the bird by foot. Probably the Izam lacked the proper training. The homin looked around quickly, put the cage at the entrance area, broke a teleport pact and just like that was gone. He grabbed his daggers and walked towards the edge of the tower, swaying to the point of tipping as he went 'hmm.. perhaps the stairs might be a safer bet this time'.

Eventually after a lot of cussing, tripping and stumbling Virg reached the cage. He saw the letter and opened it. Reading the later he found himself grinning, 'So finally', he thought to himself, 'Someone might actually think Marauders might be a little more than just thugs'. He put the letter in his bag and picked up the cage walking off towards his guildhall. He would have the scribe write up two copies, one for the guildhall and one for the stables, detailing he had the Izam and any correspondence could be sent through him.

He entered the Guild Hall and strode towards his favorite spot, the Haverster trainers quarters. Thankfully the trainer had gone on holiday and never came back so Virg had setup a mini-apartment within the room, a handy convenience. He sat next to his desk, grabbing a quill and Kirosta ink and began to write:



Lordoy Khalaoden,

Thank you for your letter although I assure you I have not turned my back on the nations I adore. Whilst their ignorance assumes this, I actually still fight for them. The Marauders themselves are no different from the Kami or Karavan in a very simple aspect, that they believe, or at least preach, that through them alone hominkind will have salvation. Whilst they paint petty pictures of merciless bloodshed at the hands of the Marauders, their hands are dripping with the blood of innocent homins. The Marauders themselves are a strong, honorable organization who see the true beauty and art of battle. Whilst the Kami run around like thugs, striking down those unprepared time and time again, Marauders are an intriguing collection of homins. From the moment they wake they devote themselves to the perfection of whatever they pursue. You will never see such discipline elsewhere.

To really define a Marauder, you need only look at the simple definition. "Marauder" comes from an ancient language, most of which has been lost to us. In this language it translates as "a homin who raids" or more simply put a "raider". This ancient language puts forward this definition of a raider, as someone skilled within the arts of close combat or one who attacks to defend their territory. Much of the ignorance of homin's today is put forth as the governments propaganda, incorrectly defining what a Marauder is. The territory I seek to defend is all the lands I have walked, they are precious to me as is the life that runs through them.

But.. you must be asking yourself this now.. who am I fighting? and why? The answer is very simple. The parasitic governments that corrupt and weaken these lands. The false religions that would have us worshiping them and slaved like Mektoubs to do their bidding. A threat draws near Khalaoden. A threat from the skies. The recent ship crash was only the begging, a failed scouting if you will. If you seek more information on the threat Hiaoi is a name you might want to try whispering in certain.. places covered in shadows. Do not whisper it lightly though. The Karavan will kill just upon hearing that name. Whilst the Karavan are aware of this approach, the followers of the Karavan are blinded. They do not know who they really support.

The threat however isn't just one from above, but one from below. The Kitins are ever-present. The rangers have blocked there tunnels so what does this mean? Let me tell you.. it means we no longer have access to their strong fighters- it means no invasions to cull. It means these kitins that would usually fall upon our axes are surviving not dying. Their numbers are growing. We must be ready.

The governments have done next to nothing to prepare for this. They sit on their backsides, growing fat and lazy in their dotage. They squabble and squawk at each other over petty things like Izam's fighting over a mate. The threats draw closer and they leave us unprepared. I foresee only one plausible way in which homins survive- that they have strong leaders. Warriors who are capable of leading armies of homins, warriors who have proved themselves worthy and know the true song of battle, warriors who will defend their territory.

What is my goal? To rid Atys of these parasites. To lead hominkind against these threats and once again wipe them out. Within time homins will come around to see we are their true salvation. As for those who oppose us? They will be removed from our path. War is coming. We do not have the time to deal with petty nuisances.




Virg rolled up the parchment and sealed it with some heated Dung Resin, pressing his ring hard to imprint his guild emblem. As he was attaching the letter to the Izam's leg a thought occurred to him. He attached a pouch to the Izam's leg and writing quickly on a scrap of paper he informed Khalaoden that any trained Izam would know where to go after smelling it. Tucking the scrap into the pouch he quickly thew the Izam out of the window.