NationStates Jolt Archive

Previously

The location was a rather dirty and damp basement somewhere below the streets of Exetergrecia. It was a far cry from what the former crown prince was used to. Kurt Wagner II was sat in one corner of the basement, it was only temporary since they did feel the need to move around a bit to avoid detection from Lord Azazel's forces.

"Where is it?" Kurt asked.

"It be in Caer Chan Caddug," Remy told him.

Kurt shook his head. "Is that Safe?"

"It be safer then here mon ami."

*******************************

"I think we should take a name from history," Wes suggested.

"Have you got a name in mind?" Kurt asked.

"I have one, The Norse Marauders," he said.

"I like it," Thor said, giving the thumbs up.

******************************************

"Kurt wake up," came a stern voice.

"Mmph," the former crown prince grumbled. he rolled over on his bed and looked up.

Wes was stood at the foot of his bed, as usual he had a book in hand. "Time to go to the ball," he said.

Kurt nodded and slowly got up.

**********************************************

Lord Azazel was happy to see the ball going well, the guards were doing a good in keep out the possibility of troublemakers. The only problem so far was the suit that Lady Jillian had suggested he wore, it was itchy and he was sure it was not fitting correctly. As another guest came up to him he scratched the back of his neck where the collar was digging into him.

Lord Azazel clapped his hands together. "May I have your attention please," he called out over the sounds of the ballroom. "Dinner shall be sitting in five minutes, if you would please follow the butler he will lead you to the dining room."

Lord Azazel crossed the dining room and sat down in his chair. "Starters will come in a short while," he told the guests, his chair seemed to growl. "In the meantime I am sure you will enjoy Draconis Nightcrawlis' finest wine."

Two butlers in white tuxedo's walked in, each with a tray of wine bottles that they set down on a table by the door. Each taking a bottle and walking to the table they began pouring the wine into the guests glasses.

As the butlers took the soup bowls away, one caught Lord Azazels eye. This butler had strange eyes, they were black with red pupils. It reminded him of another face, it was a feeling of deja vu, but since all the butlers had been around the palace since he'd taken over Draconis Nightcrawlis he thought nothing of it.

A young blond male dressed in the palace cook's uniform, entered the dining room carrying a tray with a large roast chicken placed upon it. The young cook couldn't have been anything more then fifteen or sixteen years old. He set the try down and stepped away.

Lord Azazel eyed him suspiciously. "You look familiar boy," he mentioned.

"I do work here Sir," he replied.

"True," Lord Azazel said. "Now begone from my sight."

The cook nodded and left.

Lord Azazel motioned for one of the butlers to come over. The one with the black eyes and red pupils walked over.

"Yes my Lord?" he asked.

"That cook, who is he?" Lord Azazel demanded.

"Dat be de cooks son Sieger, my Lord," the butler told him. "Thought a young looking cook would be better for de guest t'see den an old one."

As the butlers were preparing for the main course, a breeze blew in from out of nowhere and the room was plunged into darkness. Lord Azazel stood up from his seat, slamming his fist against the table.

The backup lights were quickly on, lighting up the dining room once more. Crouched upon the table directly in front of Lord Azazel was was the former heir to the royal throne, Prince Kurt. In his right hand was a sword, its tip was pressed into the underside of Lord Azazel's chin.

"Hello grandfather," he grinned.

The sword in Kurts hand began to glow red hot causeing him to drop it. He disappeared into a cloud of purple smoke and reappeared with a little more distance between them.

"I thought that would be the case so I brought this with me," Kurt said pulling a lightsaber out. It was blue, the same colour the former prince was.

There was a clash of lightsabers as Kurt blocked and attack from his grandfather.

"I had plenty of time to get wiser in that dimension your father left me in," Lord Azazel replied, fending off Kurt's counter attack. "I learnt long ago that prophesies are false and you are going to end up dead just like your parents and your sister."

"This stops now!" Lord Azazel yelled, raising his hand.

What looked like a lightning bolt shot from his hand, towards the former prince. Kurt quickly teleported out of the way and the bolt hit the wall behind where he had previously stood. What Kurt hadn't realised was he had just teleported directly in front of a rather large man. The man brought his large fist down and knocked the former prince out cold.

"Quickly get the collar on him," Lord Azazel yelled.

Lord Azazel looked toward Jess. "The Norse Marauders are an underground terrorist group formed by my own grandson in order to steal my power away from me," he explained.

**********************************************

"Hows he taking it?" Fred asked.

"He is not taking it well," Wes told her closing the door behind him. "I fear for Quatre's sanity if we do not get Kurt out soon."

"With alot of help," he told her rubbing his eyes. "We are going to have to find the right kind of people to break him out."

***********************************************

"Where are you going Quatre?" came a voice from behind him.

Quatre stopped walking, he didn't turn around. "It is none of your business," he said. It was just typical that someone would come to stop him.

"Kurt is my Nephew, ah want to rescue him as much as you do but to go against that prison in our groups current state is just suicide," came the reply.

Quatre closed his eyes and wishe Marie away. She didn't leave.

"If you are going on this suicide mission then ah am coing with you," she told him.

"Fine," he sighed.

***********************************

The streets of Exetergrecia were busy as they always were, no one took any notice of Quatre and Marie stood across the street from Exetergrecia Gaol. The massive prison overlooked the immediate area, its outer walls dark and forbidding.

"No way we can just walk in there," Marie said.

****************************

Another click revealed a security camera showing a prisoner in exactly the same position. Unlike the other prisoner, Fred could see a tail with a spade on the end floating freely behind the prisoner.

"I've found him!" she yelled, clapping her hands in delight.

But the delight didn't last. She didn't like the way Kurt was being treated. Obviously it was because of his ability to teleport that they were keeping him in stasis. What was worse was the fact that Azazel was there.



.

Wes scouted the outside of Exetergrecia Gaol, he was alone, posing as just another ordinary citizen going there to report a crime in the police station. In Draconis Nightcrawlis, all police stations had their own jails as a fast track system for justice, but since Lord Azazel’s reign began there was no justice only suffering. The biggest thing to happen in the last few days was the arrest and imprisonment of the former crown prince, Kurt Wagner II. It was because of that, that Wes was now going to the police station to file a false burglary report in order to get inside and gain access.

Meanwhile across the city, Marie and Quatre entered a tavern situated down a dark side street. From there they knew that any policemen or any of Azazel’s lackeys would not interrupt them. It was also the ideal place for them to be able to scout possible help for their cause. After the ball failure they needed more help as some of their number had been killed, they had already been pretty under numbered for an attack on Azazel anyway. They went and sat down in one dark corner have paided for a tankard each of ale.

“And now we wait,” Marie said.

OOC: Anyone wishing to join please TG me first, thank you.

OOC: Just to avoid some confusion, the characters joining should be from DN although they can be from another nation within reason, ie charitable, political, an edge etc... There will be fighting, stealth and spying. So the part's a characterwill probably be playing. The end goal of this thread is to free the prince and allow him to eventually retake the throne.

Wes passed through a weapon detector with ease, he didn't have one on him since it would have been taken from him anyway. It was better to keep a low profile then to attract attention to himself. As usual, the inside of the police station was busy there were people everywhere. Most were there to report crimes or pay fines, some were waiting to see a friend or family member in prison, and few were actually able to do that under Azazel’s reign. Once inside, he quickly walked up to the front desk.

“How may help you sir,” an old woman asked.

“I’d like to report a burglary,” he told her.

The old woman flashed a laser into his left eye, “Name?” she asked.

“John Newhouse,” he said not blinking once. John Newhouse was an alias of his that had been hacked into the national database.

As far as the old lady knew from checking the database was that he was telling the truth. Wes’ real life didn’t appear on the database at all, to anyone who looked he was a taxi driver. “Take a seat sir, someone will be with you shortly,” she said.

Wes nodded and went to sit down. He hoped that he would not have to wait long.

"Do you think our numbers will increase?" Quatre asked quitly, drinking his ale.
Marie looked around. "Doesn't look like, ah guess Azazel holds more fear over the population then we thought," she said. "Looks like the population is ready to accept their doom."

OOC:

Oh yay another solo RP, I don't know why I bother.

o.o.c. Solo rp? Not if I can help it! I have suffered far too many of those so Now I go and help anyunitentional solo I can! Check your tg's!

o.o.c. Solo rp? Not if I can help it! I have suffered far too many of those so Now I go and help anyunitentional solo I can! Check your tg's!

Checked and replied.

Wes soon found he didn't have to wait long, the old lady at the desk waved him though after only a couple of minutes. He got the feeling that most of those waiting were waiting for someone rather then waiting to report a crime. He went into the hallway beyond the front desk and felt an instant hit of cool air. It was a very welcome change from the hot stuffy waiting room. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Forge wandering down the hallway in a maintenence uniform, so far so good as he entered the room he had me told to go into.

A large, fat man stood up from behind a desk as Wes shut the door behind him. "John Newhouse I presume," the man said. "I am Detective Silverstar, please have a seat."

Wes shook his head, without saying anything he took a small can from his pocket and sprayed the detective in the face. The detective hit the floor with a solid thump, he hoped no one would take any notice of that. Considering how corupt the police had become since Azazel had taken over, he wouldn't be surprised if people hitting the floor were a regular occurence.

"OK I'm in," he said, sliding into the detectives chair. It was rather hot and he was sure it was a little damp.

His attention turned to the computer in front of him, somehow he was going to find a way to free the prince using it.

I'm preparing my post...ready soon

John walked into the tavern, holding his hammer over his shoulder. Being a tall and strong man, it was easy for him. He dusted off his clothes, dirty from a hard day at work, then payed for a beer and sat down at a table. As he drank the beer, he contemplated leaving the nation soon, as the work was nearly finished. He might soon have to go back home, to help in the reconstruction efforts. He sighed, and thought 'so many lives lost, how could i have stopped it? could i have even made a difference?, i, i, didnt mean it, i couldnt have stopped myself i i tried'. He pondered staying in the country, not going back to the horror, the devastation. He would at least be safe here, safe from the accusers, the people that wanted him dead, the people that wanted revenge for the damage he had accidently caused.

Quatre watched people walk into the tavern, most were uninteresting and unlikely to join them. Then a tall man caught his eye, he looked particularly strong as he held a large hammer over one shoulder.

"What do you think of him?" he asked Marie.

Marie looked over at the man. "He could be a candidate," she replied. "Ah reckon we should keep an eye on him. He looks like he may have some issues."

Quatre nodded, he held up a very small gadget and pointed it in the direction of the man. "See what the others think," he said.

OOC: Hmm :rolleyes:

IC:

"Well this has been a waste of time," Marie groaned.

Quatre nodded in agreement, "Time better spent working out a plan," he said as they prepared to leave the tavern.

"Nothing," Wes sighed.

He leaned back in the leather chair and rubbed his eyes. The search was fruitless, there was nothing about the prince on any of the systems. He suspected that Azazel had prevented the police from storing anything on Kurt and the failed plot at the ball in order to keep people from finding out what was in store for him. Since Azazel knew that Kurt was destined to be his downfall, Wes and the others suspected that after any sort of a trial, Kurt would be executed.

"I'm coming back, theres no sense in wasting time here," Wes then said.

He stood up from the desk and left the room. The detective was still lying unconcious on the ground, as he stepped out into the hallway Forge passed him. Neither made eye contact of any kind.

Outside the tavern, Quatre leaned against the tavern wall watching a small group of people walk by. None of whom were the right kind of person to help break out the prince. Things were not looking good for them, ever since the failed attack on Azazel's ball he'd had to disguise himself. That had been because he had posed as the chefs son and now his face was known. Gone was the blond, replaced by a boring dark brown that prevented him from standing out in a crowd. His eyes too had changed to brown, nothing special really.

"Come on Marie," he muttered under his breath. He had grown tied waiting for Marie to bring the car around so they could get out of the area. "How long does it take to collect a car."

OOC: If I had wanted to RP solo I'd have written a book instead.

o.o.c. As soon as the battlelore shows up you won't anymore. Hint hint/

OOC: I'm still waiting for a reply from you in that thread. This one was meant to get a few characters played by other people involved but at least 90% of NS ignores me.

o.o.c. Your last post needed my reply? Oh....my bad.

A black car slid to a halt just in front of Quatre. He looked up to see Marie in the drivers seat and quickly went and got in.

"So where to now?" he asked.

"Only the fates know," Marie said, shaking her head. She quickly glanced in the wing mirror and pulled away.