Jow Forums writefaggotry thread

This something that I cooked up, tell me if you like it.

The Arcane Knight.

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"Grandpa... How do you know what's right?" asked a small child as he looked up to his elderly great grand father.

The aged and weathered man of over a hundred looked down at the small, unsure child with two widen eyes. The elder man saw the uncertainty behind the kid's eyes and smiled before he put a soft hand on the child's soft head.

"Johnathon... What did you do at school?" asked the firm voice of the grand parent, a soft smile on his wrinkled face.

"I promise I won't tell Jason." said the old man softly as he ruffled the nine year old kid's dark hair.

The young child laughed and struggled to move away from the hands of the old man. The elder chuckled before grasping the kid's shoulder in a tight yet gentle grip, letting him know that it was serious. The child looked into the eyes of the man filled with wrinkles and stories. In his heart the child knew that his Great Grandpa Jimmy was full of knowledge. And that his lessons and stories somehow always went into his gut and he would never forget.

"You promise Grandpa?" asked the child after a few silent moments.

Grandpa Jimmy got off his comfortable couch, sat next to his great grandson and placed both his hands on his small shoulders. The old man looked him in the eyes and nodded.

Attached: Scion.jpg (400x400, 36K)

"I punched the bully Diego today..." muttered the child.

The grandpa's eyes darken as he saw the sad face. This was a child whose father could not take care of because of his military career and a child who was abandoned by his absentee mother. Now in his younger years, this child would have grown up defenseless and filled with bitter resentment, but lucky for young Johnathon, advances in technology and medicine allowed this old bag of bones to take of him properly. Yet the mental stress is still there, yes it was common for a single spouse to raise this child in a military family but there is still a yearning for both the parents to be present that is found among all younger children. Just young Johnathon had to make due without his father or his mother, and the thought made the old man sigh in sorrow. Old Jimmy thought about the possibility of the young Johnathon punching another kid just so the teachers can pull his father from work. Was this a stunt to garner attention from his overworked father? No... Johnny got dropped off today by the on post automated transit system, so... Self defense? Or was it in protection of another? He must have stood up for another kid because it seems Johnny felt a deeper meaning of guilt, and the headstrong child would only approach him for things he truly did not understand.

"Then why do you feel guilty?"

"Because Elly yelled at me for making Diego cry! Even though he was bullying her!"

"...I don't care about what Ellie did or did not do. I'm asking why you feel guilty." replied Old Jimmy.

"I feel bad because it felt good to shut him up. I didn't feel bad until Elly pushed me away to help Diego." said the kid after gathering his thoughts.

"...So then comes the question... How do you know what's right?"

Young Johnathon nodded and the grandpa smiled as he saw the young man slowly but surely maturing before his old eyes.

"Well, every one have their version of right or wrong you know?"

The kid tilted his head in confusion.

"For example, Jason knows in his heart that he should be home to take care of you so he feels bad."

"But Dad needs to work! If he doesn't work, the bad guys would do bad things! So he shouldn't feel bad! Dad's a soldier! And he's a hero!"

The old man smiled softly, Jason's going to cry when he sees this in the automated surveillance taps. Oh how he loves guilt tripping his grandson to put in for a four day pass.

"Yes Jason knows he's doing the right thing but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel bad."

"Huh..?"

"You see Johnny, there's a spirit lion and a spirit wolf inside of everyone!" the man said before poking the kid in the stomach.

"What does that mean Grandpa?"

"Well, the lion is a good guy, he always wants to do the right thing, stand up to bad people and protect others, but he makes you feel bad when you do the wrong things."

"And the wolf?"

"The wolf likes to do everything the lion doesn't want to, and you know what's the scary part? The wolf will only make you feel good, he won't make you feel bad for anything."

"...So the wolf made me feel good for punching Diego because he deserved it and the lion made me feel bad because Diego cried?"

"That's right Johnny."

The nine year old's face brighten as he slowly realized the emotions he was feeling, and the questions slowly rolled back into his mind, confusing the young mind even more.

"But... Why do both of them live inside of everyone? They don't sound like good friends."

"That is because they are good friends. The lion knows that sometimes the wolf is right and the wolf knows that the lion keeps him from doing really bad things. They get along because they live together and they are best friends because they watch each others back, but as you know Johnny, just like people, there are different lions and different wolves."

"Oh, just like in the Discovery Channel right?"

"Yes, but you know what's scary?"

"...No..?"

"Even though the lion and the wolf are best friends, they like to show each other whose the boss! They will always fight each other even though they are best friends, it is why everyone is so different. Because the wolves and the lions inside of them fight each other and sometimes the lion wins and sometimes the wolf wins."

Young Johnathon tilted his head once more, not really understanding what Grandpa Jimmy meant.

"Let's take Diego for example, the wolf inside of him is much stronger and meaner. The lion inside of him is weak and Diego can't hear his voice."

"Is that why Diego bullies people and laughs? Because he can't hear the lion's voice, so he just doesn't feel bad?"

"That is right Johnny."

"...What happens to the lion when the wolf is too strong?"

"Well... Then Diego will only hear the wolf, and the lion will never make him feel bad."

"...That's horrible Grandpa!"

"That is why that's the scary part. Imagine how you will be if the lion inside of you doesn't make you feel bad."

"...Then how do I know which one is stronger?"

"The stronger one is always the one you feed."

"...So if I give the lion a big ghost steak, then he won't be hungry and he'll be strong enough to make me feel bad for doing bad things, and the same for the wolf?"

"Exactly."

The young child's mood darken as he came to terms with the lesson.

"What's wrong Johnny?"

"...I don't want Diego's lion to be hungry."

The old man smiled once more and patted the kid's shoulders.

"Remember Johnny, the lion is a good guy. If your lion is strong from all the steak you give him, he will want to share with everyone. Give this a try, tomorrow at school. Go back to Diego and say you're sorry. Be his friend, be his lion. Give it some time and the lion in you will feed his lion and then he will be strong too. And maybe someday, the lion in Diego can make him feel bad for doing bad things."

"...Does it work Grandpa?"

"Of course it does! Just remember Johnny, the wolf doesn't like to share. The wolf like to eat other wolf's steak if he's strong. Especially when the wolf is really hungry."

"...So I have to give both of them steaks."

"That's right."

The kid dove into his great grandpa's mid section and hugged him tightly. The old man smiled and returned the hug.

"Remember this Johnny... The lion can't live without the wolf and the wolf is lost without the lion."

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"...Damn... Must have dozed off." muttered an armored soldier as he shook himself awake within the dark shelter of a small cave.

He couldn't believe memories from so long ago resurfaced in his mind, but stranger thing has happened. In fact it is happening right now at this moment. In his hands was a finely crafted single edged straight sword of an unknown alloy along with bundles of lumber. He was using base of the blade closest to what can he describe as the handguard to sharpen makeshift spears to keep wildlife away while he does his best to fight off the fatigue.

It has been more than a few days since he had awaken to this world. A world of that he can only describe as a green nightmare. Ravenous birds the size of horses, tank sized predatory lizards, hell... Even the plant life within this area are treacherous. The man had witness flowers the size of trash dumpsters swallow smaller animals for food and razor sharp animate vines yanking creatures away. It was indeed a hell of some sorts, a bio nightmare realm that he had no idea why he had suddenly appeared in.

Yet somehow he was armed with a plasma rifle that was powered by a wearable power-station the size and practical application of a military mountaineering rucksack... And decked out from head to toe in a vacuum sealed suit of combat armor in the visage of a knight. This was crazy, was he in some sort of a sick joke? Also, how can a weapon that was mounted on a tank be miniaturized into an infantry weapon?

The man finished up his makeshift barricade for his cave, enough room for airflow but sturdy and deadly enough to deter animals looking for an easy, sleeping meal. The man triple checked his makeshift rope and its knots, seeing that they are secure, he sheathed the blade and laid back into a nest made of leaves.

"...This technology... How can this be..?" muttered the man as the armored lens of his helmet continued to whine and whirl as it analyze and update vital information about his surroundings into the heads up display.

It is true that the man has been a soldier of the modern twenty-second century for the better part of a decade and he was no stranger to high tech equipment that the military utilizes but this was ridiculous. How can a heads up display appear within the goggles of an individual soldier when his country struggled to attached said devices into warplanes and armored vehicle more than twenty times his size? Plus the fact that the information being processed by the armor's sensors defy all conventional understanding of the technology.

Upon his right shoulder was a single scope on a small shoulder stand with a three prong mechanical arm. It traverses in all directions, and provides him information a single mono-lens should not be able to provide. From simple distance to target, automatic tracking and day-night vision enhancements all the way to x-ray vision, thermals, sound enhancement and all types of technological wonders beyond his time. A day ago, he was able to track a small prey animal the size of a pet rabbit through several tens of meters of thick forest. And that was just the cherry on top of the sundae! He was able to record a three dimensional image of his trek through a kilometer of the thick woods and project it through the scope as a hologram! How was that possible without thousands of projections refracted into a reflective display unit?!

The man brought up his armored left forearm and pressed an stylized rivet and a display screen appeared. This was another piece of technology that eluded the middle aged man. Manipulable holograms are movie magic at best, but it was surreal for him to be able to use such a science fiction like technology in real life. The man stored the thought as he reviewed the encounter he had with a oversized, fanged, predatory lizard.

The animal was supremely intelligent. It had recognized the sturdiness of the armored battle-suit and tried to sink its foot long fangs into the unprotected cloth like jumpsuit he was wearing underneath the plates. From the hologram, the former soldier clearly saw a perfect chomp into his right thigh, where his femoral artery would be. His recorded self jabbed his armored hand into the lizard's eyes and caused it to release its hold on his leg. The animal compressed its legs and shot itself towards the man's head, its target was the soft cloth around the neck. The man hit the paused button as he saw his timely dodge and the lizard's teeth turning the tree behind him into bits of pieces.

"...I remember reading somewhere that a living tree that size takes at the minimum 5,000 PSI to break instantly... How strong is this material..?" muttered the man as he remembered feeling a slight tingling sensation on the spot he was bitten.

/ Mk.14 Arcane Knight War-Plate[Outer Garment Composition] The non-plated soft shell of the Mark Fourteen War-Suit is composed of artificial threads synthesized from a tier 9 Mana Reactor. Its toughness is comparable to...(retrieving relevant information from user's memories... not found. Accessing alternate media...) the skin of an class nine adolescent dragon./

"...I am wearing a jumpsuit as strong as dragon scales...?" thought the man.

The bewildered former soldier began to dig through the user interface in order to search for a technical manual of the equipment he was wearing. This was absolutely ridiculous and mind blowing as he shifted through the thousands of paragraphs and pages. His armor was as if thirteenth century blacksmiths making armor for knights magically found cutting edge twenty-eighth century technology and they tried to combine the two. It consisted of the typical breastplate, shoulder pauldrons, gauntlets and sabatons. The helmet however was a thing of marvel. The cranium of the armor was stereotypical of the archetype, similar to the helmets he wore during his service but that was where the similarities ended. Two metal circular devices covered the sides of the helmet and it reminded him of the electronic ear protection he wore during deployments but cranked up to eleven. Then there was the armored face protection. Again, it looked like some crusade era blacksmith found a futuristic space helmet and turned it into something a Knight would wear.

Two glowing red eye lenses amidst a figure clad in the armor made of the blackest of nights thought the man as his mind drifted into a more romantic view of things.

"...At least this stuff is comfortable..." he muttered as he clenched and unclenched his armored, gloved hand.

Another thought had suddenly hit his mind. It has been more than forty eight hours since he woke up in the middle of the forest wearing this armor. In fact it was strange that his body had felt nothing but the typical pressure of wearing this sort of protection. Of course it was something he was used to, but it has been a couple of days and he hasn't felt the familiar armpit sweat or the usual suffocation of a sealed suit. It was as if he was just wearing a form fitting business suit of the most breathable textile. It weighted nothing and felt like it was a part of him. Even then, where was the familiar crusting of dead skin and sweat? The uncomfortable wrinkling under his armpits and between his forearm and biceps?

"...Don't tell me..."

The man used his shoulder mounted scanning device to scan himself and he found what he had feared. There was devices surgically attached to his body, but that was not what scared him the most. In the image projected into his retina, it looked like he had another set of circulatory system. It was side by side from his blood vessels and nervous system but instead of pumping blood or some other liquid, it looked like blue plasma was flowing through him. Literal visible energy was dancing within his body and at its source, a living and beating blue sun.

/Host Mana Core[Class Nine] At full capacity./

"...Mana Core..?"

The man looked at the detail xray scan of his body and found that the surgically embedded devices were leeching this energy and feeding the armor system. The armor system had a much more primitive pathway for this energy but it ran throughout the suit and the excess energy in turn is fed into the power-pack on his back via cables attached to the left side of his breast-plate.

"Hold on..."

The former soldier returned to the recording of him fighting the giant lizard and resumed the paused video. He switched the standard view to the detailed xray vision and watch himself shoot a single bolt of compressed 'magically held' plasma into the torso of the creature, melting its flesh and instantly combusting it, the lizard's blood and internal organs instantly turning from animal tissue and bodily liquids to compressed gas and coagulating matter, blowing up in a shower of flame and charred flesh. There was no mistaking it. The energy within himself was poured into the suit, then the suit powers the pack and the pack converts the energy into a physical form and ejects it out of the rifle.

"...Impossible... This... What the fuck is this?" stated the man in sheer surprise.

Did the man turned into a walking nuclear reactor? How is his body able to withstand and hold such pure energy? Then it hit him, the name Mana, it was a mythical fantasy energy from fictions in movies, novels and video games. The name of his suit and all the impossible technology. The man smirked as he remembered what his friend had told him as they shared a drink together over a hangout. Its magic, I ain't have to explain shit was quoted word for word.

>This is some fantasy elf shit. I don't care.

"If my plasma rifle is powered by my mana... Then what about this... Pistol? Personal Defense Weapon? What the hell is this?" muttered the man as he detached the decent sized sidearm from his belt holster.

The monoscope on his shoulder sensed his gaze and scanned the box like weapon in his hands. This massive 'small' arm had a pistol grip, retractable butt-stock, a double stacked thirty round magazine and enough space on its front end to wield it with two hands. It reminded me of the massive sub machine-gun like Shell-Launcher used by the Galactic Marines in a popular gothic space epic.

/Mk. 18 Magnetic Propulsion Personal Defense Weapon. This semi to automatic sidearm magnetically propels 12.7x25mm metallic slug from an charged 10.5 inch barrel with a twist rate of one rotation per seven inch. User beware, this weapon has a automatically loading system that has to be engaged by the ambidextrous charging handle if no projectiles are present within the firing chamber. This weapon operates under the third law of physics to engage its self loading systems, though recoil is dramatically reduced by eighty percent, because of the violence of its action and speed of its loading process, automatic fire is not advised unless user is under dire circumstances and has procured sufficient ammunition./

Fucking hell, if I was using this damn PDW, I would have food to eat instead of blowing meat up. I thought angrily.

/This weapon is a compliment to Mk 14 Arcane Knight Survival Pack System. It goal is to provide the user ability to utilized ammunition made from locally sourced metals produced by the Survival Pack System. User be warned, if substandard alloys are used as ammunition in this weapon, the friction caused by low quality projectiles propelling along this weapon's rifling will eject particulates from the slug and imitate the muzzle blast of a combustion projectile weapon./

I stopped reading the text in my HUD as I realized the enormous potential of this weapon. According to the simple picture guide of the technical manual, all I have to do is shove pieces of metal into my 'rucksack' and I can produce ammo for this weapon. The only trade off is it behaving like a conventional firearm if I don't use what ever this mithril metal is. The point target range is six hundred meters and the area target range is eight hundred. The minute of angle for this Mk.18 PDW is about two inches per one hundred meters which means I have a point of impact of one foot at six hundred meters which was extremely accurate for such just a defensive weapon.

"What else do I have?" I muttered as I detached the cables connecting myself to the rucksack and I began examining it.

Its construction was unique as well. The main bag and the sustainment pouches are made of the same materiel as my jumpsuit, the frame however is a different story. The structure of the frame is similar to a mountaineering bag, but the difference is the power reactor of the plasma rifle, the cables that links the bag to the rifle and the four metallic boxes. My monoscope tells me that one is a life-support system that is connected to the power cables leeching energy from my implants. It was no wonder why I haven't been feeling dehydrated, this thing was keeping my body in tip top shape.

"And this..."

The box next to life-support is the coolant system for the entire setup, from my plasma rifle to my armor system and the water that feeds me. Something about mixing water and mana to enrich its effects. This is the thing I need to constantly feed and maintain. Apparently it can take contaminated water and separate the H two O from the other particulates. The separated matter is then dumped into a different pouch that I can depose at my leisure.

"...Then this must be the manual control system and the housing unit for the computer system that controls and regulates everything. System logs say it is good and no need for maintenance. Then this last box... What does it... Woah."

I recoiled at the sudden burst of holograms that was projected by the unit.

/Holographic Construction System activated./

"...Is this..? A three dimension printer? And its made of holograms..?"

/Please attach power source./

"Power source..? Oh I got it." I grabbed the disconnected cable and attached it to my breastplate.

My eyes widen as I saw the holograms solidify into tangible energy that was safe to touch. My sensors identify it as pure mana and I couldn't believe it. This was just absolutely ridiculous. Who went through the trouble to kidnap me from my world and insert me here with technologies that belong in fantasy? Especially someone who has not given me any instructions. No save the world, destroy this evil monster, dethrone this genocidal emperor or something of that nature.

"Ah forget it, let's get back to this... What should I build..?"

I looked around my immediate vicinity and remembered the huge nest of leaves I have gathered. A camouflaged cloak would be nice, this black armor is attracting a lot of attention that I do not need. I walked up to the projected keyboard and entered the word: Woodland Camouflaged Cloak with Hood and Sleeves.

/Projecting results./

I was shown a 3D image of the completed product and began making adjustments. I cut the length of the cloak so I won't have troubles stepping on it, added straps and strapping points, allow it close at various adjustable points so it doesn't blow open and the ability for the cuffs to be tighten. I almost forgot, I rotated the image and created a cutout and a sleeve so that my monoscope can be camouflaged and retain its freedom of movement.

/Insert materials here./

I began gathering the leaves and placed it within a floating basket. The hologram brighten and I felt a small drain to my energy as the construction process began. I am absolutely blown away by the process. My sensors are showing me that this machine was breaking everything down to its base molecules and reconstructing it to suit my needs. What ever missing element that is required is synthesized from restructuring present materials with mana, making brand new substances not on hand. The computer gave me a warning however, that synthesized items from my mana did not have the proper bonds it should have so it is much easier for it to deteriorate. It was also not viable to construct durable weapons from leaves and wood unless I want my mana core drained to the point of my death.

"Guess I'm not that much of a miracle worker. There goes my dream of making a vehicle out of trees. Looks like this cloak is enough for the moment." I muttered as I picked up the cloak and packed up my portable miracle machine.

I rolled the cloak up into a makeshift pillow and laid my head on it. My defenses are up to standards of my liking. I should sleep and recover my energy. I am still not convinced that I should remove my kit in fear of a random beast breaking into my cozy makeshift home. I simply settled for my bare blade at my side and a loaded PDW within reach and closed my eyes. Screw my comfort, I need sleep to be on top of my game. With those last thoughts, I began counting sheep.

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Seems like rain. I thought as I looked up into the skies as the droplets of water splashed onto my eye lenses.

It has been a week since I left my makeshift cave with a simple task. Move east and stay out of sight. So far I have traveled approximately two hundred miles at a pretty brisk pace. My miracle machine has constructed packaged foodstuffs and bottled water that has kept me well sustained for awhile. I also made a one man tent that was also camouflaged so my nights have been relatively peaceful with the exceptions of ignorant beasts walking too close to my bivouac site.

Let's pull out the map.

I sat down next to a tree and raised my wrist mounted computer. With a press of a rivet, a three dimensional map appeared. This was a side project that I tasked my monoscope and its sensors to complete. So far I have mapped an entire mountain range, a network of rivers and a large portion of forests. I also classified the wildlife that I have encountered and found over forty different hazardous plants and animals that I should avoid.

This damn place is indeed a greenhouse of nightmares. Everything eats everything here. The things that live here makes the jungles of Africa look like a tourist resort. Least of all, I have yet to find sentient life forms. Primitive or otherwise.

I was about to take off my helmet and eat the food I have reconstructed from a reptile that I have slain days prior when my computer told me that it discovered what it seems to be a road of some sort. My interests were piqued and I decided to move towards the area. If these were constructed roads then that means there is some form of civilization. This was a major discover that I must investigate, and besides, what's another ten miles when you have walked two hundred?

This rain should cover my movement rather easily and I shouldn't have any surprises.

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These mother fuckers.

By sheer coincidence I have encountered a caravan of sorts and what I saw enraged me to no end. On a quick glance one would only see four covered carriages, two stagecoach and about a platoon worth of armed guards. Under my enhanced vision however, what I found was absolutely disgusting. Within the covered carriages were humanoid woman and girls of various features with things in common. They were all aged from what appears to be from nine years old to eighteen, all beautiful and dressed in rags and chained in metal.

Fucking human traffickers... I muttered.

Within the stagecoach flanked by mounted armored guards, I saw an plated, robed female human with pointed ears who appears to be the leader of the security detail and a fat disgusting pig of a man dressed in an elegant robe and wearing all kinds of jewellery.

Looks like they have a dozen horses, armored in metal and holding medieval weaponry. Nothing I see they have has a chance of hurting me in combat but there is the civilian casualties to account for. Their mana cores are well below mine, class three was the highest and those belong to the assholes in the carriage... Wait... Are those rifles..?

My monoscope zoomed in closely on the mounted guard's saddles and saw that there was indeed rifles in their bags. They looked like single shot breech loaders and rifling within the barrels. Looks like they were just equipped with iron sights and they look rudimentary. These firearms probably are not meant for long distance shooting since there was no windage and elevation adjustments. This was another layer of difficulty I must overcome but no matter, it will be a figure of time when these fuckers will be pushing up daisies.

I have to wipe them out at night. I'm lucky that I found that small chunk of iron within that cave from two days ago. I'll show them what swift, silent and deadly really means.

I pulled up my camouflaged hood with a sneer and brought out my PDW and attached a suppressor to its muzzle. According to the technical manual, this works just like its counter part from my world. Unless I use subsonic ammunition, the cracking of the projectile breaking the sound barrier will not be neutralized. These dickheads are wearing metal armor and helmets so reliably penetrating that will be an issue at distance with those type of subsonic fire if I decide to go that route.

The rain... If this rain continues into the night...

My covered mouth formed a sinister sneer as a familiar feeling emerged from within me. It has been a long time since I have hunted men. The lion within me took a backseat as the wolf was unchained and allow to do its grim work.

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Nineteen hundred on the dot. I thought as my optics turned the night green.

I have stalked this caravan for about sixteen miles and they have finally settled in for the night and made their camp. The rain did continued into the night and it seemed to worsen. The pig stayed in his stagecoach and began dining while the head of the security detail went inside the other vehicle. The armed guards began to relax as they finished their last minute preparations before bedding down.

These fuckers are trained. Tents in formation, roaming guards with torches and guard posts with sufficient lighting so an onlooker can glance at a distance on what they are doing. No matter, you're all within four hundred meters within my weapon's range. Pray that you die painlessly tonight.

I have already annotated the patrol patterns, the intervals of the change of guard and the routes of escape. There is a squad of nine pulling watch and the rest were doing their things. I have counted thirty-six other corpses waiting to die sitting or standing around the camp. Those must be reserve force since they are still wearing their gear. My monoscope zoomed into a covered campfire where a group of guards were eating. As the audio came in, I was surprised by what I heard.

"...This looks good! Must be because of the large haul this time."

English? No, my systems are translating the language.

"The Sky Gods are angry tonight... Bad omens are ahead."

"Omens? Listening here farmer, don't give me that villager superstition."

"Whose on Guard tonight?"

"The Talleran boys from the east."

"Those desert sand eating bastards? The gods curse it, they will probably be high on khaek before the next shift."

"Hey Theo, tell Bryce to check up on them before he eats alright? I don't want any surprises tonight."

"Yeah, those Imperial bastards must be angry that we managed to haul all these slaves for the markets."

"Speaking of slaves, whose going to feed them?"

"Ha! The only thing they will be eating tonight is our semen! Ha hah hah hah hah!"

I gritted my teeth as I heard the round of laughter around from the camp. I swallowed my urge to remove their thinking cap from their shoulders and scanned another area. This time my chosen target, was a pair of men within their tent. The clouds began to grumble and I saw flashes appear. This was a green light to engage. They will be the first to fall.

"How much you think we'll get paid this time?"

"About fifty gold pieces per man. We did bring in a very good haul this time."

"Those Imperial bastards must be mad since we did raid their monastery."

"...Just thinking about all those pretty girls made me want to..."

"Careful now, virgins are much more valuable. Unless you want twenty gold a man, I would keep your trousers belted."

I put my reticle on the beating heart of one of the man. Three hundred meters was what I zeroed this PDW at and two hundred was the target. There was others within other tents but these was only two in this one.

"Gods curse it, I want one! I'll just tell the boss-"

I squeezed the trigger at the height of my breath and splattered the bastard's heart across the tent. The timing was perfect, the lightning covered the crack of my shot.

"What?"

The zero was also perfect and I blew the other's brains out before he can cry for help. That shot however was not timed with the thunder but looks like no one found out. My HUD shows that my heart-rate is still consistent so I began to tally a grim toll on the rest of the tent. Every grumble a man died, every crack of lightning two died. By the time my timer reached two minutes, I put eighteen dickheads into the dirt. I am lucky that the torches and lanterns near the tents are hung at a distance where no one can see the blood soaked mud.

Patrol... Wait for him to enter the tent...

My inner wolf barked with content as I threw another one at the gates of his maker.

That's nineteen, about half of the force. Time to send the two in charge some 12.7mm justice.

I zoomed into the stagecoach where the disgusting bastard was reading what it seems to be a ledger.

"Yes... I can see these at Marinberge, these at..."

My round entered his throat and the fat bastard began choking on his blood. Two more shots into his right lung and the lower intestines, this disgusting pig slump onto his chair. That is where I left him, unable to call for help as blood filled his lungs and his undeserved dinner and bile filled his fat internally. I zoomed into the other stagecoach and found the pointy eared woman lubricating a devious looking double sided strap on. It is such a shame, this woman was quite the looker, her hay colored blonde hair stylized into a beautiful ponytail with long luscious bangs and her milk chocolate skin was smooth, glistering with a dangerous lust that told the world she was a demon in the disguise of a rose.

"...Oh how I am going to make that pretty one squeal... I'll just tell Descius to sell that delicious toy to-"

My shot blew the hand holding the torture device and the woman was shocked into stupidity. Before the pain caught on to her, my next round took her jaw off and the follow up shot separated her spine from her lower body. The woman collapsed face forward into the floor of the carriage. Her blood began pooling into her face and I sped up her suffocation by putting one last round into a lung.

I prey on those who prey on the weak. Let the devil own me, for I do these deeds willingly. Feet first into hell. De Oppresso Liber.

I trained my crosshairs onto the cooking pot of the dinner tent. With a textbook controlled pair, I shattered its contents into the fire, extinguishing it.

"Gods curse it! What happened?"

I opened the head of the guard closes to the tent's flap. One felt blood splatter on his face and reached up to touch the it as my next shot took off his head. The follow succession of rounds then round themselves into a vital organ, ending their lives instantly or within the next moments. My monoscope zoomed into a pair of guards investigating the commotion and I separated their brains from their body.

He was just a rookie trooper and he surely shook with fright... He checked all of his equipment and made sure his pack was light... He had to sit and listen to those awful engines roar... You ain't going to jump no more...

The wolf within me snarled in delight as the slavering lives within this caravan was reaped by a 12.7mm scythe. The blood on the risers were on full display as its tunes stirred a primal emotion within me.

Gory, gory what a-hell-of-a-way-to die... Gory, gory what a-hell-of-a-way-to die... Gory, gory what a-hell-of-a-way-to die... He ain't going to jump no more...

My lips curled in a spine chilling smile as I dropped these assholes. My PDW roared a steaming, voiceless park as I dropped the magazine. I slammed another one home and released the bolt in a satisfying slam and I re-enter my optics while singing in the rain.

He hit the ground, the sound was "SPLAT" his blood went spurting high... His comrades they were heard to say "A HELL OF A WAY TO DIE."... He lay there rolling around in the welter of his gore... And he ain't gonna jump no more...

It was like cutting punching bags full of shit loose onto the ground, these assholes fell onto the mud wordlessly as their spirits left their body.

Gory, gory what a-hell-of-a-way-to die... Gory, gory what a-hell-of-a-way-to die... Gory, gory what a-hell-of-a-way-to die... He ain't going to jump no more...

I barely noticed the commotions of the camp as the guards began to notice something was amiss and they began running into their grave.

Now the baby son grew up and said, "A troopers life for me."... A jumper like my daddy was, is all I want to be... I only hope that I can jump just half as good as he... He ain't gonna jump no more...

One began running towards the slave wagons with a lantern and I shattered it along with his femurs. The burning flame and its oily contents spilled onto him and he quickly became another decoration to the killzone.

Gory, gory what a-hell-of-a-way-to die... Gory, gory what a-hell-of-a-way-to die... Gory, gory what a-hell-of-a-way-to die... He ain't going to jump no more...

Another pair ran towards the tents where the horses rested and I turn the leading guard's head into pink mist.

There was blood upon the riser...

The other stopped mid-track in utter shock before his head flew into the air and saw his own body.

There were brains upon the chute...

Three drew their rifles and began firing into the dark wood lines.

Intestines were a-dangling from his paratroopers suit...

Those three had their stomachs pumped full of lead before their wild firing can hurt the prisoners within the wagon.

He was a mess...

A panicking guard ran into the tents and were shocked into pissing his pants as he saw the corpses staring back at him within. His cries of despair was silenced by his heart exploding.

They picked him up...

A single round cracked twenty meters near me and I placed my sights on a guard whose knees where shaking as he fumbled to load his breach rifle.

And poured him from his boots...

He finally loaded the rifle and a smile of happiness filled his lips as he shoulder the rifle and the upper portion of his head exploded into the rain, the smile still on his face as the body dropped like a sack of potatoes. The last man fell on his ass as he cried, tears and piss streaming from his body as the bloody smell of the slaughterfield filled his nose. My hand moved slowly as the reticle moved towards him. The man... No the young woman got up and began preying to her gods.

And he ain't gonna jump no more...

My fingers pressed onto the trigger and I expected the PDW to go off but in the heat of battle, I did not count the rounds in my second magazine and the familiar discharge of my weapon did not come. I dropped the magazine and quickly loaded the gun but the woman was still kneeling on the mud, crying even louder to what ever god that was ignoring her.

This is what they deserve...

I reapplied pressure to the trigger and I aimed for her forehead, at the fatal "T" where her upper brain connected to the lower. My finger gently broke through the pressure and the suppressor discharged, the round impacted on the top of her helmet and knocked it off her head, but she was unharmed. I was shocked before I remembered that I had constructed the muzzle device in low quality metals and the point of impact had shifted just enough to save her from meeting what ever god that was ignoring her.

This girl... I thought in amazement as she got up and resumed praying.

I twist off the ruined suppressor and placed it in an empty pouch on my belt for recycling. I turned my red lenses back on from stealth mode and they blazed into the darkness like the red eyes of a demon. I made my slow journey from my perch into the camp.

Looks like this one will experience her first mass grave.

I set my monoscope onto the stagecoaches, scanning for life. The mercenary leader's body was lifeless, it seems like she did died of asphyxiation from blood filed lungs. She lived long enough to open the doors to the carriage before she finally perished. I nodded in grim acknowledgment that her final moments were indeed full of despair. A final moment of justice to the lives she had ruin.

"...Geralt, Archangel of Justice, please deliver this humble one who is full of sin and find it upon your holy self to forgive this one whose soul is weighted with the sin of greed..."

The young girl was still kneeling and praying, her eyes closed to world as the rain washed her body of the filth that seeped from her body. I shook my head as I stood a mere ten meters away from her. My monoscope sudden zoomed into the other carriage and saw mana being released within. It looks like the other asshole survived and spending his mana to heal himself.

Of course the ring leader is the cockroach... I thought angrily.

I slowly made my way to the vehicle and stepped onto the raised ramp for footing. I tore open the doors forcibly and a pitiful gasp of fear sounded out.

"No! NO! Please mighty lord!" yelled the fat bastard who looked even more disgusting with the ruined clothes.

I reached in and grabbed his hand and dragged him out.

Hmm... This bastard must be over two hundred pounds. How come he weights like nothing?

I accidentally crushed the bones in his forearm and he yelled in pain.

I know I was no slouch when it comes to physical fitness but isn't this a little ridiculous? Those beasts I dragged were heavy. How come this pig is so light?

"Please oh mighty lord! I'll give you anything! Mountains of gold! Done! A harem of beautiful girls! Just say the word! Please!"

I dragged him out into the center of the camp. The fat bastard noticed the girl on her knees praying and cried towards her.

"You there! Pick up your weapon! By the Gods, SAVE ME!"

The girl opened her eyes finally and saw my cloaked form in its glory. Her prayers were silent as she stared into my glowing red lenses, her mind shocked into silence.

"Get up girl! I command you!"

"You will be silent or I will skin you alive." came my mechanically filtered and translated voice.

Like the sound of a pin dropping, the fat bastard was completely still as my outburst silenced him. His eyes paled as his body began to quiver.

"...By the Gods... Y-You're an Arcane Knight..." stated the shocked voice of the man called Descius.

"Kneel."

The man obeyed and got up and knelt.

"You. Get up."

The girl nodded and stood up. I turned to the kneeling man, formed a knife hand and shoved it under his chin.

"If you move from your spot, I will tear you limp from limp. Understand?"

Descius nodded and silenced himself, trying his hardest to quell the piss that was leaking in his trousers.

"The keys."

"M-My lord?"

"The keys from your necklace. Unless you want me to rip off your head and get it from your corpse?"

The fat man pissed himself even more as I reached for his neck, his hands shaking violently.

"NOW."

He sat himself as my loud voice cause him to recoil. I walked towards him and he finally composed himself just enough to hand me the keys.

"Come over here." I said towards the girl and like an obedient recruit, she quickly ran towards me.

I looked at her and noticed that she was also quite attractive, but in a tomboyish sort of way. She had amber hair, green eyes and slight freckles. I can see how she pass for being a man with all the style of armor she was wearing. She stood at a height of five feet three and with a posture of a prepubescent teenage man.

"Stand still, I will not hurt you." I stated as I walked in front of her.

I leaned into the shorter girl and placed my heavy palms on her shoulders. She was as stiff as a board and I couldn't help but feel bad from scaring her. My lion began to roar as I saw her head trying the hardest to look forward. I tuned my voice projection down from the automatic setting to the lower spectrum. I placed myself next to her ear and whispered,

"The gods you were praying to prevented me from killing you tonight. Do not waste this chance and do good. Nod once if you understand."

The girl nodded.

"What is your name?"

"K-Kyle... N-No my real name is Karae, my lord. Karae f-from G-Greenshire."

"Karae..? Good. My name is Jonathan Sykes. You are a now friend of mine. I am going to hand you these keys. Can you please free those poor girls from the chains?"

She nodded as she grabbed the keys from my hands. She almost bolted from my grasps but my hand cause her to stay.

"Where did these bastards leave from?"

"S-Stonetalon m-my lord. I-It's just three days journey from h-here..."

"Please, just call me Johns. Got it? And please tell me your a new addition to this group of human traffickers."

She nodded enthusiastically at my soul devouring voice.

"So, did you just get hired? Is this your first run with this group of gods-cursed-it-heads?"

That's fuck in their language?! I meant to say fuckheads... What ever, poor thing is so scared she won't say anything.

Karae nodded again and took off her gauntlets. She show the back of her hand and told me that only mercenaries who complete a contract or killed and pillaged with this group will get a marking of association.

My monoscope scanned the corpses of the fallen around us and to my dismay, I found that there was a couple of bodies that lacked the marking. I shook my guilt out of my conscience, these bastards knew what they signed up for. There are just things you don't fuck around with in my presence, human trafficking and slavery is within the top three of that list.

"Now, I know we just became friends, so you wouldn't do anything that make you think bad of you, would you?"

"N-No Master Johns!" she cried as she violently shook her head.

"Good, now free all those poor girls and bring them here okay? I promise I won't hurt you or them. Understood?"

"C-Clearly Master Johns."

I let go of Karae and stood back up, she took that as her time to run towards the wagons. I looked towards the kneeling Descius and his back straightened in pure fear. My hidden smile was from corners to corners as I pointed at him to stay. He nodded in such a quick succession that made me believe he had neck muscles made from steel. I pulled my hood back and took off my camouflaged. The man gulped as he watch me pack my cloak into my rucksack and readjust my kit to its original standard. I never took my eyes off of him as I did my thing and I swore every my movements caused him to loosen his bowels.

"Stay there Descius."

The fat man nodded as I walked towards the carriage and ripped the door out without any effort. I folded the sheet metal door into a "V" and dragged it towards him. I heard an audible gulp as I slammed the makeshift chair in front of him. I walked towards the tents and yanked a torch from its stand and brought them both along with me. I then placed the stand next to my chair and put the torch back in it before sitting down.

"If you do anything besides kneeling and being silent, I will pull your head, along with your spine, from your body. Inch by inch, understand?"

Descius nodded as my eyes drilled a hole in his face. My monoscope began tracking Karae as she leapt into a wagon and slowly unlocking the chains. The girl began telling them to not panic and that she was with a friend who is an Arcane Knight that is saving them. I saw those dead expressions brighten with hope and smiled a wolf's sneer at the quivering fat bastard in front me.

"Be silent." I stated as I watched the girls from the first wagon disembark.

Descius nodded as he watched the girls eyes widen at the destruction I have wrought. A couple of the older ones put their hands on the eyes of the younger girls in an attempt to shield them from the chilling sight. Then a couple of girls saw us or more importantly they saw Descius and they began crying and yelling at him. As the man was being called a monster and murderer by these innocent girls, his head drooped. It looks like he understands that tonight was his last night and he finally grew a fucking conscience.

"Tell me Descius, do you have children?"

"...What does it matter..? I am a dead man anyways..." muttered the man as his body slumped.

"Answering will make the difference between a painful death or a mercy kill."