Fiction:The Mendel Schism

"To avenge what is lost, to see what is base made undone, to defend the galaxy from invaders. This is what it means to be Mendel. Something Barda, and the other High Kings betrayed. They speak of stopping the Xonexi, and do nothing. But today, I will unleash the wrath of our forces on them. Vengeance will be ours! For the Pact!"

- Hand of Retribution

"Such will be a dark chapter in our history, and yet, it shall be one of hope. Today, we put to rest the grudges of old, and we reunite our people, and reclaim our place within the galaxy, refreshed, reforged, and remade. The Reclaimers will not be stopped today, for we are what it truly means to be Mendel."

- Kirta Clett

The Mendel Schism was the era of history that began in with the Ascension of the New King, the Absolute Lord, the Hand of Retribution. Mastering a radical movement of Mendel Clans seeking to bring down the Covenant, he was able to amass followers among all three of the Mendel nations, of Ugandalore, W'alor and Kodalon, giving him the leverage he would need to unseat the High King of each, and make himself the King of All. His rule was not contested however. As the situation in Mirus, Andromeda and beyond slowly came to a head, many Clans became sickened by his actions and declared him a soulless traitor to their ideals, ultimately joining behind, daughter of the Late High King,. Aided by her father's friend, and her mentor, Phase-Hunter, Kirta, while at first not used to the idea, came to embrace her status and proclaimed to lead them to a brighter future, and named her group, The Reclaimers, after a name her Persan allies gave to her movement. Elsewhere, other Mendel groups would break off, with Walgolorian Commanders Kiun and Ryaler, who where originally supposed to position their forces for the eventual attacks on Eldarisia and France, broke off contact, and agreed to act as shields for their former foes, not wishing for the Mendel people to suffer another terrible war, even if they had to betray everything they believed in.

Other Mendel groups began to move, hoping to take advantage of the schism between the Pact and the Reclaimers, such as the Void Worshippers of the, the , and the Proditkar Remnants they lead, and even the extreme, but rarely seen. Kirta, however, saw these groups as potential members, and, with work, could bring all these alien elements of the Pact together, and reunite her scattered people. Not only would this give her the forces she would need, but also allow her to finally unite her people, under one banner and embrace peace once more. But, first, they would have to destroy the Hand, before he lead their people into a war that had no tomorrow, and the possible destruction of everything the Mendel held dear.

Participants

 * /Reclaimers
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 * - Partial Ownership

Three become One
The streets where dark on, the sun having dipped below the mountains as a lone Ugandalorian marched through the streets, undisturbed by any drones or security forces. sentries and patrollers gave him an odd look, but continued on their path, under strict orders to not bother him. He made his way into the Empyreal Caste's temples and meditation grounds, and moved through without difficulty, the guards standing at attention even as he passed. The warrior moved through the grounds, marched up to the doors of the first temple, and opened the doors, marching through as the cold air billowed behind him, the doors automatically closing behind him. The warrior was dressed in black armor, intricate lines of red gold and runes criss-crossing it's surface. Behind him hung a ragged cape, grey and worn out. He stopped and breathed in deeply, his breath echoing across the near-empty temple, all except the elderly Walgolorian sitting on a hoverchair in the center, a staff in his withered old hands, dressed in ancient, incensed robes and a fine, ceremonial crown. The Ugandalorian snorted quietly as he approached. He did not like this, but he had to do what he needed to destroy his foes. Even if it meant an alliance with this...coward, to put it nicely.


 * Ugandalorian - Hello Ord, none of your pretty little guards to protect you.
 * Ord Acaya - Too risky. They may very well tell Casio what I have planned here. Though I should have them here. I do not even know your name, stranger.
 * Ugandalorian - The Hand of Retribution is all you need to know. Let's get down to business.
 * Ord Acaya - Fine. First, share your information.
 * Hand of Retribution - I have Clans loyal to me on Kodalon and Ugandalore. I have some here on W'alor, but I need you to get me support of the Empyreals. With me in charge of the Pact entirely, I will get what those three fools could not.
 * Ord Acaya - *Grunts* The Council will not support duels being fought, we're a bit higher than that savagery.

The Hand blinked his eyes, closing off public communications, before swearing at the elderly Empyreal, and then reopening his chat channels again. This old bastard was necessary, but, by the Gods, was he an annoyance the Hand rather not deal with, and an arrogant annoyance at that.


 * Hand - Then exile him. I need him out of the way as I deal with Comacar and Clett. Make it happen.
 * Ord Acaya - Can you promise me what I wanted?
 * Hand - Yes, yes. I will grant the you far more leeway in control of the Walgolorian and their vassal races, so you won't have to deal with Casio's morals and other little things that bother you. Be sure it does not conflict with my ultimate power, however. You may find me...dissatisfied with your role, old man.

The old Walgolorian drew himself up on his chair, his face visibly annoyed and slightly fearful.


 * Ord - Please, surely you would not do something so rash?

The Hand clenched his fist. This old weakling was trying to command him, ever so subtly. It was what he hated about these worms. He would've felt it better for his kindred to separate themselves from these Empyreals. But he relaxed himself as he continued.


 * The Hand - Do not try and command my mind. I will be the one in command of the Pact, not you. Know your place, and remove Casio from his own.
 * Ord - How do you propose to rule the Pact? Aren't you aware that the other Clans have trouble with one ruler taking command of all three races with unlimited power!?
 * The Hand - You know us Mendel. They are so worried and angered about the French and the other Xonexi scum that they would not dare raise their hand against me. I promise them vengeance and a restoration of the balance of power, things Barda and his ilk, no matter all teh hot air they've blown, have failed at miserably. The Mendel want revenge. The Mendel want me.
 * Ord - Fine. The other Empyreals will have no issue. Casio as exercised too much controll already. Let him be gotten rid of, so our people will remember who brought unity and balance to this world and society.

The Hand almost felt the need to remind him that such a thing was rather tyrannical, but realized that in truth, he was doing the same thing. He held back a bitter chuckle, as he rubbed his gloved hands together.


 * Hand - Is this it, Old man?
 * Ord Acaya - I have nothing left to speak of.
 * The Hand - Good, remember our deal.

Ord nodded sternly, as the Hand turned and walked out, the doors opening as he disappeared into the night. The Empyreal turned his hoover chair around and headed into the deeper parts of the temple again, his thoughts to the future glories his people would achieve, under his guidance.

Kurlos Saayrun waited in the café for his acquaintance to show up. Would that be the proper word? It was hard to come up with any word for the rather erratic being he was working with, for now. The purple armed Ugandalorian shifted in his seat, as he sipped on his coffee. What was taking that human so long? Probably fornicating with his favored whores again. That, and killing was all he good for.

Kurlos stopped drinking as his...acquaintance walked through the door. Anywhere, he would've drawn much attention. But his status as the High King's errand boy made many used to his...disturbing...features. Indeed, the mostly skinless human looked half-rotted, and yet no one stopped eating or ran to the bathroom, though a few small children stopped and stared for a while. Kurlos rose from his seat.


 * Kurlos - Lord Wilson, welcome.
 *  - Spare me the title, just call him Phase.
 * Kurlos - Fine. Mister...Phase.
 * Phase - Done to business. What's he doing now?
 * Kurlos - Gathering allies. He has several Clans right now, and Ord Acaya's support.
 * Phase - We need to move, then. Barda and the others must know of this.
 * Kurlos - Phase, please. We cannot rush our investigation. Let me and my intelligence agents get what we need and plan this. We will get this crazy bastard. Just let me do my work.
 * Phase - You've warned Barda of this, right?
 * Kurlos - Of course, he and the others are fully aware of every move the fool makes.

Phase nodded slightly, his dried, blood-shot eyes darting around the room for a bit, before he turned to one of the waitresses.


 * Phase - Hey darling, can I get a nice cup of Nuta'gul?
 * Waitress - *Smiles slightly* Sure thing.
 * Kurlos - You going to try and seduce that one next?
 * Phase - Kurlos, please. I don't mix business and pleasure. Unless it's on Wednesdays.
 * Kurlos - *Roles his eyes* Indeed

Phase breathed in deeply, as the two sat for a moment, before the waitress brought him back his cup.


 * Phase - Kurlos, I want to thank you for this. I know it sounded paranoid at first, but this Hand guy cannot be trusted. It's obvious now. You've really done a crazy old human a favor.
 * Kurlos - Part of my duty to the Mendel people, to protect them from all cowards and scum that would threaten us, internally or externally.

Phase rose to leave, as did Kurlos, ready to wave him good-bye, as Phase pulled him into a bear hug. Kurlos' eyes widened in surprise as the show of emotion, before Phase let him go, gave him a small salute, and moved to the exit, as several of the other patrons starting jokingly harassing him, before he left.

Kurlos waited until he was gone, before opening his communicator.


 * Kurlos - My lord. All is well. Barda's imp suspects nothing. All is readied for your ascension.

12 days later

Casio Lwerian'ca stood before the council of W'alor, dressed in full ceremonial armor, as he looked up at Ord Acaya on his hoover throne. Shock still was etched clearly upon his face as he heard the charges brought against him by the Clans and the Empyreals.


 * Casio - Why am I being judged, when everything I have done has been for the benefit of our people? Through the struggles and wars, I have stood ready to protect the things we hold dear. Why do you blame me?
 * Ord Acaya - That is what you may believe, but ultimately, the Council questions some of your actions in light of recent events.
 * Casio - Which actions do you speak of?
 * Ord Acaya - Your inability to stop the Xonexi from gaining dominance over this galaxy.
 * Casio - So you turn me into a scape goat for factors beyond our control..!?
 * Ord Acaya - Try as you might, you have proven unable to do anything of real value against the French and their new galactic order.
 * Casio - We have no choice! What would you ask for, another war!? We must win this be peaceful methods, until our strength returns.
 * Ord - You obviously lack faith in the Abiding Truth. Have you not seen how well our forces performed against both the Loron, the Scelus and the Neraida? Surely, the Wal'va was with us that day to guide us to victory.
 * Casio - And while all where terrifying, you must realize the French are one of the leading powers not only in their home galaxy, not only in this galaxy, but in the entire universe right now. To attack would be suicide!
 * Ord - Have you and the other High Kings not developed more advanced ship designs to bridge this gap? Once it is closed, they will surely fall before our greater prowess. Why do you lack faith in the Pact's abilities?

Casio hesitated slightly, his nails digging into the podium in front of him, his face grow slightly distraught, when an Empyreal rose up from his council seat, clenching his fist.


 * Empyreal - It his lack of faith in our cause! He is a traitor!

The Council broke out into argument and yelling, before Ord Acaya slammed his staff into the floor. The Lloud clang silenced everyone, as he spoke in a clear, commanding tone.


 * Ord Acaya - You are right to consolidate your forces, Clan Lord. But with the Eldarisian and the other Xonexi always a looming threat...
 * Casio - ...We may not have succeeded, but to blame me for the advancements in French technology is an overstep on the Council's part.
 * Ord Acaya - Excuses are a thing for the weak. There are only results, and those that cannot archieve them. While you and your Clan have lead our people with honor and distinction, this failure is too intolerable to bear for the Pact.

Ord Acaya pressed a button on his throne, bringing up a long list of orders and edicts set up in ancient times.


 * Ord - By The 240th Right of W'alor, I, with the power of 3/4s of the Council, declare you and your family exiles. You may gather your things, but you ultimately have no position of power any longer. The Council will work on who to declare your successor.
 * Casio - Whoever it is, you do not yet realize your mistake. This aggression towards the Xonexi will destroy us all. Until we stand on equal ground with them, we cannot risk our peoples' lives!
 * Ord - You are dismissed, Lwerian'ca. Guards, take him away.

One of the Walgolorian guards grabbed him by the arm, only for Casio to tear towards him, bearing his teeth in anger. The guard stepped away, as Casio stepped off and towards the exist, under the withering gaze of the rest of the council. Despite, he kept his head high, not bowing to their insanity.


 * Ord Acaya - Next on our Role of Orders, is the canonization of a new High King to act in his place. While he is not a Walgolorian, his loyalty to our cause shines in the darkest lights...!

Casio merely shook his head as he left. If they so wished to get themselves killed, let them. Though he was banned from his own peoples' territory, there was nothing stopping him from warning the other High Kings. He would have to move as quickly as possible.

The Hand stood on the snowy plains of Kodalon 5, air and snow wiping up around him. He was surrounded by his followers, some Ugandalorians, many Kodalorians, but all ready for what came next. His communicator in his helmet buzzed, before he clicked it on.


 * Hand - What is it, Old man?
 * Ord Acaya - The Clans and the Empyreal Caste have approved of your ascension onto High King. Casio is a powerless exile now. Shall I send assassins to end him?
 * Hand - No. He will be too late to stop me. Kodalon will welcome me as their ruler, once Comacar is dead.
 * Ord Acaya - As you wish. Good luck.
 * The Hand - I do not need luck. I have destiny at my side.

He deactivated his communicator, as he and his followers began marching into Kodalon's capital, Corvladunon, right to the High King's palace. As they moved, the crowds of people passed and separated to let them through, the Hand smiling under his helmet. He could already feel the rush of taking Comacar's head, hear the shouts as his people made him their new King. He licked his lips as he stepped right up to the steps of the palace, and took out his sword. He activated his helm's communication system, adding much volume to his voice.


 * Hand - Comacar! Come out here at once, coward! I am here to take your position among the Kodalorians! I will be High King of Kodalon this day!

The crowds all looked around in surprise, shook and excitement, the various emotions mixing together and buzzing as the people spoke in hushed tones to one another. His warriors, and the warriors of other Clans, eyed each other with wary expressions, neither one moving, only keeping their weapons ready.

Finally, out of the palace lumbered Comacar, his white and blue painted face set in an angered expression.


 * Comacar - What did you say, boy? Mind repeating yourself. Depending one what you said, I might have to cut your tongue from your jaws.
 * The Hand - I am taking what is mine. I am taking your position as High King.
 * Comacar - You are no Kodalorian. You have no right to my throne.
 * The Hand - The Pact laws state that so long as one proves himself worthy, he may take the position. I will prove myself worthy by stepping over your corpse.
 * Comacar - Say your prayers then, boy.

Comacar unsheathed his claymore, the mighty blade glowing in the sun, as he stepped down, the air picking up around them. Comacar's suit of armor clicked and creaked as he stepped forward, putting his helmet on and barring his teeth at the upstart. The two circled each other, each flexing their clawed fingers as they tightly gripped their swords, each waiting for the other to make the first move, not a sound could be heard except the blowing of the wind. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Comacar rushed forward, lifting his blade above his head.

Comacar slashed down, as the Hand merely stepped to the side, before taking a swing at Comacar's neck. The aged Kodalorian lifted his claymore up, smacking the attack out of the way and pressing at the Hand's defenses, stabbing and slashing at the Ugandalorian. The Warrior of Ruination could barely stand up to the High King. It was a simple fact, the Kodalorian was much more physically powerful than the Ugandalorian could ever hope to be. Comacar swung foreword, swiping at the Hand's neck, intending to take his head, only for the Ugandalorian step back and regain his balance. Comacar breathed deeply, his foggy breath coming out in short bursts, as the Ugandalorian warrior sought to regain his composure.


 * The Hand - You fight well, Comacar. If only you would leverage that rage against the Xonexi.
 * Comacar - After the ass-whipping we received? Not happening. Best to build up our strength. You don't understand, boy. You lack the experience.
 * The Hand - Excuses! Weakness and cowardice! We have the power, the warrior spirit that the French lack! We fight horrors that they and their hounds at Eldarisia could only dream of!
 * Comacar - Only a madman would test his strength against them after everything that has transpired!
 * The Hand - Then madness is what we will need to restore our honor!

Comacar's eyes widened within his helmet as the Hand charged again, this time leaping over the Kodalorian, and swiping out with a kick to the Kodalorian's face. The High King barked in anger and back away, as the Ugandalorian landed behind him, and ran to finish him. Comacar turned, narrowly blocking the attack, as the Ugandalorian wnet on the offensive, swiping and sweeping at his foe, his bastard sword elegantly dancing in the light of the high sun. This time, Comacar was the one barely able to keep up, the Hand's great agility and speed hampering the High King. Finally, the Ugandalorian Warrior slashed upward, slashing right through the High King's helmet and cutting through the flesh beneath. Comacar tossed off his helmet, now revealing a scar that went from his left cheek to above his right eye. Blood seeped out, which he whipped away with the back of his gauntlet.


 * Comacar - A good strike, boy, but you cannot win.
 * The Hand - My victory was written in the stars. It was meant to be.
 * Comacar - We will see who the Gods have blessed today.

Comacar gave a grim smile. He knew well enough about how things worked. In the wild, he who got the first strike would win. His eye was now blinded, and this youngster was faster and more agile. If this was the end, he planned to do what his people had always done. Fight till every last drop of blood fell to the ground, be it his enemies, or his own. With a mighty battle cry, Comacar charged forward, raising his claymore up. The Hand charged as well, his sword low as he came in to attack.

As Comacar swung at the Hand's body, the Ugandalorian ducked out of the way, and stabbed the Kodalorian through the chest with his balde, right through his rib cage and out the other end. The Kodalorian fell on his knees, as the Hand removed his sword and looked down at his foe. He suddenly coughed as blood exploded from his chest in a torrent, before subsiding. He held the wound with his left, feeling the warm fluid run in his hand. If that strike had been a few inches deeper...

The Hand turned towards his fallen foe, bending one knee to get to his level, even as his followers gathered around him to attend to his wounds. He raised a hand to stop them.


 * Comacar - Whatever you plan, it will not work...You'll doom us all...boy.
 * The Hand - You fought well, my foe. I will remember you fondly, once I have destroyed the Xonexi and freed Mirus.
 * Comacar - ...It will not work...But I will gloat when we meet again...in death.

The Kodalorian King finally slumped over, dead at last, tears beginning to fall from his eyes. As life left him, the Kodalorian was left grateful for just one thing. The death the Hand was to unleash, at least he would not see it. But, already, the weight of so many souls weighed on him, just before he left this world for the next. One of the Hand's followers approached his body, giving him a good kick.


 * Warrior - For a High King, he didn't fare too well. Definitely not worthy of leading us, the coward.

The Hand marched toward him and grabbed him by the throat, bring his helmeted face inches from the Warrior's own.


 * The Hand - Comacar was a noble soul, worthy of respect! I will not see you tarnish his name with your actions!

He released the warrior, and turned to the rest of his troops.


 * The Hand - Give him a proper funeral, and see to it his family is treated with respect. Block all communications, and see to it that my transport is ready for Ugandalore.

He turned and made his way to the High King's palace, holding his chest, as he felt a bitter smile cross his lips under his helmet. Two down. There was only one left to deal with, before he could begin his destruction in earnest. But, as he moved to the palace, he was not aware of the very human eyes watching him from the shadows.

So Falls the Last Piece
Phase landed near the capital of Ugandalore, Koridelable, getting out of his ship to meet with Kurlos. The cybernetic human ran up the Ugandalorian, visibly angered.


 * Phase - The Hand of Retribution is starting his rampage! Comacar and Casio have already fallen to him and his followers. I thought your informants said they wouldn't be starting ofr many more months?
 * Kurlos - They would be saying that, except their dead now.

Phase recoiled a bit, clenching his teeth. He took out his communicator, and starting pressing Barda's number. He did not see Kurlos slowly lift his hand to wrist, and press a button, jamming all communication. Phase tried several times to raise Barda, but could get nothing. Cursing, he jammed it back in one of his compartments.


 * Phase - Come on, we have warn Bardy.

Kurlos put on his helmet and followed Phase as he began running towards the Ugandalorian palace. Blinking on a secure channel, he contact his master.


 * Kurlos - My Lord. Phase-Hunter is on his way to the High King to warn him. What are your orders.
 * The Hand - Activate your comrades. Slow him down so I can arrive in time. The False King's Imp will not ruin all I have worked to accomplish. Barda must not have time to prepare. This must all happen in one fell swoop.
 * Kurlos - Yes, M'lord.

Kurlos falling slightly behind Phase, pressed several buttons on his gauntlet, sending out a remote signal. The Hand had seen to everything. Kurlos wasn't sure how, but he just did. They continued on into the crowded market place, Phase forging ahead, as Kurlos looked out to the tops of the buildings, where White-armored Ugandalorian began to jet pack in, landing on several buildings, and watching the two like vultures. Kurlos activated his helmet's transcom systems.


 * Kurlos - Mendel Empath Intelligence here! Clear out at once!

The crowd asked no questions or made any fuss. Seeing Phase-Hunter, the warrior who had gained the title "The High King's fury personified", and an agent of the Empath Organization, was a telling sign that this was an important mission, and they would be wise not to get in the way.


 * Phase - That helps a lot, thanks Kurlos.

The Warrior said nothing, merely coming to a stop, pulling out his rifle, and taking aim behind Phase's head, before opening fire. The Human warrior fell to the ground, rolled, and came right back, the shot having pierced to the other side of his skull. As he turned to face Kurlos, he stuck two fingers in the rapidly closing hole in his head.


 * Phase - You know, I planned to use that brain of mine sooner or later. Thanks Kurlos.

Phase took out two of his pistols and aimed one at Kurlos, while raising another in the air, anger quite visible in his eyes.


 * Phase - Now, before I personally reach into your throat and rip out your skeleton, tell, why did you just shot me.
 * Kurlos - Sorry Phase, part of the job. Gotta protect our people from these Xonexi, not that you would much care.
 * Phase - What does that mean!?
 * Kurlos - Your from the same planet as the French. Unlike our human kindred, that makes you a little biased.
 * Phase - That's not how human nationality works at all. Man are you uneducated. When I blows your own brains, it won't help any though.
 * Kurlos - *Chuckles* Good luck then.

The nine white figures reacted, dropping down and landing in a circle around Phase, cratering the ground. Each of them wore intricate, heavy white armor, decorated with black tron-like lines, and red markings across the wrist guards, thigh armor, chest and helmet.


 * Kurlos - The Hand gets here in 4 minutes. Surely, you can't best us all?
 * Phase - *smiles* Darling, you don't know shit about me, do you?

The Ugandalorian each unsheathed their swords in one motion, circling around him. Phase smiled as he watched them. Then, he decided for a bit of a challenge. Twirling his guns, he put them back in his holsters, and cracked his knuckles.


 * Phase - Whichever asshole wants to die first, step forward!

Not waiting for them, Phase leapt over Kurlos, landed behind and slammed a bunch into the first one's head, puncturing the helmet and through the skull, right into his brain. He normally would've held back just a bit, but these loons wanted to get everyone killed, they could start by being the first ones to go in the ground. He ripped his fist out, and kicked the Ugandalorian over. The next two jumped at him, one slashing at his neck, and nicking the vein in his neck. Blood spurted out, but Phase did not stop, activating the armor in his left wrist, and blocking the come around strike, and punching the Second one in the gut several times, before spinning and kicking the warrior in the side of the head, sending him to the ground with an audible crack. The next one stabbed him right in the stomach as he turned, Phase screamed in agony.


 * Phase - Oh no! I've been gutted! It's not like I can just regenerate. Oh wait!

Phase grabbed the blade in his left hand, before bring his right hand and smashing the sword's mid section with a punch, denting it, before shattering it in to. As he brought his fist around, he straighten it into a knife hand strike and brought it back around, swinging into the third Warrior's neck and slashing straight through, taking his head clean off. He rolled out of the way as a fourth one leapt over and swung downward at him, before widening his gut wound a bit and ripping the blade out, before the flesh resealed itself. As the Fourth Warrior came back around, Phase grabbed him by the neck, and slammed the shard right into his skull, piercing it through the other side. As he fell to the ground, Phase turned to the other. As the fifth one came forward slashing at him, he ducked and rolled aside from each role, grabbing the Fourth Warrior's blade, and using it to block three more strikes, before slashing the Warrior right in half.

Phase tossed aside the Claymore, looking at the remaining three of the white-armored warriors. Phase smiled as they seemed to hesitant for a second, before two ran toward him. Flexing his augmented hands, he tore temporal space apart, leapt in and instantly tore his way out behind the sixth one, who instantly whirled around to attack him, before he grabbed him by the head and throw him back into the dimension Phase had just popped out of, as it closed behind him. A little solitary confinement would do that traitor some good. Though Phase was surprised by how alert these warriors seemed. When he teleported, he usually made no sound at.


 * Phase - *muttering* The Hand must have hired to some very good warriors that could match me as they do. Or try at least try and match me.

Phase grabbed the Seventh one by the head, yanked him down, and slammed a fist into his throat, before dropping him like a sack of potatoes. The next one came at him, only for him to slam a back fist into the back of his head, and begin pummeling him with various hooks and crosses, denting and breaking the armor in several areas, before kicking him into a wall. Phase turned to deal with the last one and Kurlos, before something flickered in the corner of his eye. He turned, just in time to get stabbed right through the head by the Sixth Warrior, the one he had teleported away. Phase's eyes widened in shock as he forcibly tore the blade out of his skull.


 * Phase - Motherfucker, how did you do that?

The Warrior in question merely released a guttural, half growl, half groan, and charged at him again. Phase side stepped the stab, and slammed a right hook into his foes' head, shattering the helmet and sending the foe straight to the ground. The Ninth one jumped, shimmered briefly, and vanished, before Phase heard a slight pop behind him, and saw the same warrior coming in behind him. There was no mistaking it. That was the same teleportation tech he had. Wasting no time, he grabbed the Sixth Warrior's sword, placed it on his foot, perfectly balanced, before grabbing his foe with his other hand, and slamming him, chest first, straight through sword, as he dropped both to the ground. Phase cracked his neck a bit.


 * Phase - Alright Kurlos, I still got 2 minutes, plenty of time to kick your ass and get to Bardy.
 * Kurlos - *Laughing* Are you sure.
 * Phase - Umm, yeah. All I gotta do is punch your stupid fucking head, maybe once. Twice, 100 times at most, then get to Barda.
 * Kurlos - Look behind you, and around you.

Phase did so, his eyes widening in shock as he saw the being slowly snapping and regenerating their wounds, before raising again.


 * Kurlos - Did you really think the Hand wasn't going to count on you getting in the way?
 * Phase - What did you do to these men?
 * Kurlos - Nothing you haven't seen before.

Phase looked around, as they rose up again, and he got a good look at the Sixth Warrior's face, now that his helmet was shattered. The skin looked melted off, the muscle and remaining tissue laced with cybernetics, leaving the being looking neither organic nor metal, and just...off.


 * Kurlos - Do you really have enough time now?
 * Phase - Yes, because, if there's one thing I've learned from watching British comedy, I still have one last move up my sleeve. One you never counted one.
 * Kurlos - What is that?

Phase leapt up, opened up his dimensional teleporter, and landed behind Kurlos. The Ugandalorian turned, expecting him to attack, but instead the human was running toward the palace.


 * Phase - I can still run away!
 * Kurlos - *Bearing his teeth* Phase-Hunter, you coward!

Phase ignored him, as the Nine resurrected warrior pursued, running as fast as he could. He was on burrowed time. He had to warn Barda, get him off planet, and prepare the Ugandalorian for a civil war. If he didn't, then the bloodshed of in-fighting wouldn't compare at all to what the Hand had planed. Not one bit.

The transport touched off right in front of the Plaza that lead to the High King's palace. The Hand rose from his seat, flanked by four of his warriors, these ones normal base-line Ugandalorians, armed with Combat rifles.


 * The Hand - Soon, my warriors, we will begin the process that will lead to our vengeance. Prepare yourselves.

The Hand stepped out, and marched right up to the gates of the palace, where the Eran Guard marched up to stop him.


 * Eran Guardsmen - Whatever business you want, take it elsewhere. You are trespassing.
 * The Hand - Step aside. I am here to fight your King, and take his mantle.
 * Eran Guardsmen - If you wish to fight him, you must make the announcement, not show up here like a child making a show.
 * Barda Clett - No need Guardsmen. I thought something was up. Now I see who this little troublemaker is.
 * The Hand - You see only your death, false king.

Barda gave his two-handed axe a cinematic twirl, before opening the gates and stepping forward into the plaza. His red armor gleamed in the sunlight, as he rolled his shoulders, the robes adorning them rising just a bit with each role, before he gripped the axe in both hands.


 * Barda - Why do you seek me in battle?
 * Hand - I will become High King. And take from the Xonexi what they how us. Something a coward like you could only dream of.
 * Barda Clet - Surely, you jest? There is no way this could work.
 * The Hand - What do I expect from a coward but to let our honor remain tarnished by these invaders.
 * Barda - Then, by all means, show me what passes for honor, cur.

The Hand charged, slashing at Barda several times, who expertly blocked each strike. He slammed the blunt end of his axe into the Hand's mid section, before slashing at his chest. The Hand narrowly avoided the strike, before falling back. Barda slowly approached, clicking his teeth.


 * Barda - Is that all?
 * Hand - Hardly.

The Hand charged forward, stabbing repeatedly at Barda's chest and midsection, Barda Blocking each blow, before Barda lifted his axe and tried to cleave the Hand right in half. The usurper rolled backward and out of the way, and came back up, as Barda charged after him, each striking and slashing at one another as the other blocked. This went on for several minutes, before Barda blocked The Hand's blade with the mid-section of his axe, the two struggling for a moment, before Barda kicked away his rival. The Hand growled in anger and regained his balance, before repositioning himself into a more defensive stance. Barda saw the stance change, and moved in on his foe.

The Hand reacted immediately, springing forward and swiping at Barda's leg. The High King raised his leg up and kicked The Hand in the face, before dropping his foot back down and slashing at his chest. The Hand backed away, holding his wound as blood seeped out. Barda pressed his advantage, cutting at his foe many times, the Hand blocking each strike, before falling stabbing Barda through the chest, the armor taking the brunt of the injury. The two parted, each holding their wounds, before resuming their combat stance.


 * The Hand - Your not dying yet, are you?
 * Barda - No, how about you.

The Hand shook his head, as both gave a grim smile beneath their helmets. This battle was going to take a while.

The streets of Koridelble where in chaos as Phase ran through the streets, dodging rifle fire from Kurlos, as those...things followed behind him. Phase somewhat regretted the anarchy he was unintentionally causing, and knew that he might get there late to the party. Oh well, Barda knew him well enough to know that Phase, no matter how late, ultimately always got what he needed to get done, done.

He narrowly dodged another shot taken at him from Kurlos, as two of these Unnaturals teleported practically on top of him, trying to crush him down. The first fight felt as though they where toying with him, trying to get a read on his abilities. Now they seemed quite willing to cut lose and match him pound-for-pound. What disturbed him most of all, was the lack of any personality or emotion. They just seemed...blank. Was this the Hand's doing, or had the pain been so much, that, like Phase, they had been driven insane, but instead of becoming out-going and loud-mouthed, had retreated inside themselves to hide from the pain.

Phase pushed such thoughts from his mind. Whatever the truth was, he wasn't sure which one bothered him more. He could deal with that all once he got to Barda. He rolled out of the way as they both slammed into the ground and slammed their blades into the earth, the ground shattering as they landed. Phase breathed in deeply as he got up running again. This was going to be a rough situation.

Barda gripped the handle of his axe tight, breathing in as deep as he could, readying himself for the next strike. This warrior seemed blessed with phenomenal strength. No matter how hard Barda struck at him, the Hand seemed to be able to rise again, ready to fight once more. The High King knew what he saw, for he had experienced it himself when he was a younger warrior. The drive, the will to tear everything in front of him apart, to see to it nothing opposed him. Barda had long ago released such negative emotions, but this warrior, it appeared, had not. He straightened himself, as he readied his weapon for battle. This was not getting easier. Barda was getting to old for this.

The Hand stood, after a struggle, blood dripping from his knee. Barda was surprised the limb was still attached, much less that he could walk on it. The eager warrior made a deep growling sound.


 * The Hand - No matter what it takes, I'll kill you.
 * Barda - Many have tried that, be it as a bounty hunter, warrior, or High King. None of them could take my soul from my body.
 * Hand - More talk. That is all you false High Kings are good for. Yet nothing changes!

The mysterious warrior charged again, slamming his blade several times against Barda's axe, each strike blocked with as skill as the warrior had brutality. Barda side stepped his next strike, slammed a side-kick into his opponent's face, and slammed the blunt end of his Axe's staff into the chest of his foe, leaving a large crater that resembled a bullet hole. The Hand stumbled back, coughing and gasping, his breath now haggard and difficult. The Hand straightened himself instead of giving up. He had people to avenge! Lost families, fallen warriors, dishonored clans. He would not stop, not until Barda was dead. Or, at the rate they where going, they would both fall.

The two continued their battle, each narrowly dodging the strike of the other and slashing and cutting at one another. The deep runes in The Hand's armor had turned from golden, to a bright red from his and Barda's blood, while Barda's own ceremonial robes where now torn to pieces and in tatters. The two weapons sparked as they hit each other, blocking and striking off one another as the sun began to set.

Phase leapt over another building, the area where he landed cracking as though hit by meteors, before he kept on running. He could hear the sounds of battle not far. He would just have to get a little further. Just a bit more, and he would be able to do what he had to do. He flipped over the building, and landed in the High King's courtyard, and there they where, Barda and old crazy man himself. Both where worse for wear, but Barda seemed to have the upper hand now. Phase began to approach getting out both his pistols, before Barda kicked the Hand to the ground, and made a motion for Phase to stop.


 * Barda - Wilson, it is good to see you again, but I have this, brother. Let me finish this fight.
 * Phase - I don't know, you might be too old to take him, Bardy.

Barda said nothing only giving him a affirmative gesture, nodding. Nothing more needed to be said. He had this. Phase could simply watch and see the end through. Barda approached the downed warrior, gripping his axe tightly.


 * Barda - You have fought well, today. You are truly passionate in your goals. But you have failed.
 * The Hand - I hardly think so. I've already won, in a sense.
 * Barda - What do you mean?
 * Hand - Have you contact your fellow king, Comacar? About Casio?
 * Barda - *angered* What did you do?
 * Hand - Cleared away the trash that stood in the way of our peoples' destiny.

Barda gave a loud war cry as he lifted his axe and brought it down on the Hand. The younger warrior rolled out of the way, just in time, and slammed a low kick into Barda's gut, sending him backward, before standing back up, sword in hand. Barda merely activated his Power Claws, the three short blades popping out of his wrist gauntlets, as he meet the Hand in battle once more. He struck hard, hitting at him over and over again, but the Hand now had the advantage. Each strike was expertly blocked, and countered, Barda now ragged from the long fighting. Still, he did not stop, finding strength again to lift his power claws once more and fight on. And each time, The Hand's strikes grew deeper and deeper. Finally, he slammed the flat of his blade into Barda's helmet, cracking it.

The Older warrior merely tossed it aside, and stood ready once more, blood running down his face, his face pale and eyes distant. The Hand twirled his blade a bit, flicking the blood of it, as he circled Barda. Barda breathed in deeply as he calmed himself. He had defeated many foes. This would be no different. As always, his family was at stack. He had to protect them at all costs. Giving one last cry to the heavens, Barda charged in, claws raised and ready to strike, as The Hand lifted his blade and stabbed it into Barda's chest. The High King coughed up blood, weakly raising his arm and striking the Hand's shoulder, but barely able to pierce the armor.

Phase did not react at first, his mouth agape from shock. Barda's personal guard shouted in horror and sadness, trying to approach their beloved ruler, as the Hand's troops moved to block them. The human warrior began shaking slightly, as his fists clenched. He reached into his sheaths, and pulled out his own swords. With a primal shout, Phase leapt at the Hand, hitting at his foe with all his strength. The Hand turned and blocked both swords, before phase back flipped away, and came at the Ugandalorian again, striking at him with all his strength.

Yet the Hand may have been tired, but he was not going to let his victory vanish because of Barda's little imp. He side stepped Phase's next right strike, blocked the left, and slashed Phase through the gut. Warm blood spilled out, as several of his organs where lacerated, but Phase did not care, turning to slash the Hand across the helmet. and slashing his chest. The Ugandalorian backed up slightly, regained his stance, and came at Phase again, blocking all of his strikes. Phase's strength was far more then even his alien kindred, but the Hand seemed to be able to handle the grieving human with little effort.

All the while, Phase said nothing, only shouting in rage and grieve as he tried his hardest to rip the Hand from this world. He swung his blades forward, intent on taking the Hand's head, before the Ugandalorian ducked under, came around, and hit Phase in the side of head with his sword's pummel, cratering his skull. The super-human warrior staggered, and attempted to turn as The Hand swung his blade upwards, slashing a clear line right down Phase's middle, from above the groin to his skull. Phase dropped his blades in shock, as blood sprayed out.

He knelt on the ground, gasping and breathing hard. He looked over at Barda, who seemed close to death now, his body now twitching. Tears running down his eyes, Phase stood once more, clenching his fists, and coming at the Hand again, landing punches all across the Warrior's armor and cracking and cratering it in various spots. The Hand responded to this onslaught by slashing Phase across the throat with his sword, bringing the mad human down. Before Phase could get up again, The Hand motioned for his two followers to grab him and old him down. Two Kodalorians answered, holding his arms against their impressive bulk, but still having trouble containing his enraged form.


 * The Hand - Now wait, Phase-Hunter. I know you are a man of carnal pleasures. If you are willing to stand by my side, and help me with these French, I can guarantee you women and drugs and other things to slick your desires. What say you?
 * Phase - You killed my brother! My only friend, and now you're trying to bribe me!? I would rather die!

Tears raced down Phase's checks as he glared at The Hand, still struggling. The Ugandalorian merely regarded him, head slightly turned to the side, as though Phase was some sort of animal to be brought to heel. Then, he calmly put away his sword, and brought out a ceremonial Bonding Knife, commonly used by the Mendel for various purposes.


 * The Hand - The fact Barda used such a creature as you, and considered you his friend, shows just how twisted and too far gone his rulership was. Your existence will be an eternal shame to his proud family, and I will remind you of that fact.

He approached Phase, pressing the cold metal into his chest, as he brought it slowly up, at a slight curve. Phase grunted in annoyance. He had had worse wounds in his life. What was he trying to do? The Hand continued his action, until a curved rune was carved into Phase's chest. The human's brow furrowed as he looked at it.


 * The Hand - The Mark of Shame, brought onto those who cannot control themselves. You, fornicator, receive this mark, and may it be a reminder of the shame you have brought to my people with your existence. Your existence is not totally lost however. Swear allegiance to me, use that skill against our true enemies, and you may yet redeem yourself.
 * Phase - I'd rather tear my own eye out!
 * The Hand - That can be arranged.

The Ugandalorian pressed his knife against the check under Phase's left eye, and stabbed inward, then upward, severing the eye from the rest of Phase' head. The human warrior cried out in pain and anger, shaking his head as the pain overwhelmed him. It had been quite awhile since he had last had a wound like that. With one last burst of strength, he tore himself free, and ran past the Hand, grabbing his swords and kneeling by Barda.


 * Phase - We're getting you outta here, Bardy. We'll fix you, get you the machines like what I have, essence magic, something.
 * Barda - *weakly* Phase...Wilson. There is nothing left....for me. I'll be departing for the Oversoul soon.

Phase's lip quivered as he heard this, as he lowered his head and the tears began to flow once more.


 * Barda - I have no regrets. You have been a good friend. I just need...one...one more thing. Protect...my kids, Kirta, Takanius...They need their uncle.
 * Phase - I'll do my best.
 * Barda - And...and tell Forbila...Fare...well.

He smiled for a brief moment, before the light left his eyes. Several of his honor guard kneelt in reverence to their fallen lord, as Phase cradled his head. Before the sun disappeared behind the highlands and hills of Ugandalore, a shaft of light shined upon Barda, even as the light retreated, it's brilliance moving across his face, until it disappeared. For Phase, he would've wanted to burry his long time brother and friend. But now, he had not time. Releasing his friend, he ran off, evading the Hand's Warriors, and running off toward his ship.

One of the Hand's warriors approached.


 * Warrior - Should we pursue?
 * The Hand - What can he do? Find Barda's wife. She is just as dangerous as he is. Then, prepare for my ascension. Soon, vengeance will be ours.

The Warrior nodded, as The Hand stood over his defeated foe. Now, he could truly bring back the honor his people had lost. And France and their ilk would pay in full soon enough. Despite the feeling of vindication among his followers, many of the Mendel people, in the days to come, would feel perturbed by this stranger. While their reign was marred by the Xonexi defeat, Barda, Comacar and Casio had served honorably, and many felt deserved more respect then to be blamed. But, few raised their voices against the Hand. Who would question someone who had defeated the strongest Ugandalorian in battle?

No one was certain what became of Barda's wife, nor what happened to Phase-Hunter. They both simply vanished, and no one seemed able to track them down.

Red and White Like Roses
Tick, tap, tick.

The sound of Lead Exarch Domivere's unsheathed claws echoed throughout the Persan Alpha Caucus Chamber as she glared down with glowing yellow eyes at the three Ugandalorians standing defiantly before her. Normally the black and neon gothic halls of Persa would have been a welcoming place for any member of the Mendel Pact, but today everything gave off a cold aura that chilled the party of three to the bone, though they refused to show it.


 * Domivere - Now be a dear and please repeat what you said to me. My hearing must be going because I could have sworn you told me that the High Kings were overthrown by some upstart who wants us to help him take on the Xonexi or else?

The messengers below grimaced, they knew the White Queen's (another title for the Lead Exarch) hearing was certainly not going by any stretch of the imagination. She just wanted to see the squirm and they had no intention of giving her the satisfaction. Their leader quickly clear his throat and spoke up load and clear his voice ringing through the dark chamber.


 * Messenger 1 - Yes you heard correctly. Our new and gracious lord the Hand of Retribution has found the former High Kings of Mendel unworthy of their positions as the leaders of the Pact. Casio Lwerian'ca has been exiled and Comacar O'Kariin and Barda Clett were slayen in honorable combat. The Hand now intends to take back the territory stolen from our nations by the Xonexi tyrants and demands you assistance from persa in his cause as brothers and sisters of the Pact.

Domivere didn't say anything for awhile just sat back and sighed to herself.


 * Domivere - Oh Barda, why?

Quickly straightening herself she lead forward and tented her hands over her mouth so that only her eyes could be seen as she glared down at the trio below her. When she did speak her voice possessed a uniform clarity that despite its even tone was bristling with daggers.


 * Domivere - That was a promise made to Barda Clett. A man who was a good friend and beyond to our people and would have never made such a demand of us. A man that your fool of a leader murdered in cold blood and usurped his throne. In killing the man you have killed the promise and any obligation we had. The answer is no and he can expect that we will be the ones to bring retribution to him. You may go now, have a good day.

The leader saw the man to his right trembling in rage and made a move to stop him, but to late. The warrior fired at Domivere's head with his plasma blaster. Domivere simply tilted her head to the side a the shot exploded harmlessly against the wall.


 * Messenger 2 - You will not speak of our new king in such a matter you impertinent whore! You think you can win a war against us! You are sorely mistaken!

Domivere merely sat back and smiled, etes now glowing red as her shadow seemed to grow and darken behind her. The leader of the messengers eyes widened in fear, the Laws of Sacred Hospitality had been broken, there was nothing protecting them now.


 * Domivere - Frumious. Lunch Time.

Two black claws shot from the black mass that had become the Exarch's shadow and grabbed the two messengers standing beside their leader. They disappeared into the dark mass and horribly crunching noises could be heard with in. From the darkness two headless bodies flopped out onto the floor and a massive fanged head on a long neck stretched out to snap the rest up. The remaining messenger drew his sword and began to back away before Chief Exarch and Red King Raging Storm unleashed a blast of flame. In the light of the fire the eyes of the twisted gargoyles that filled the Caucus Chamber seemed to dance with sadistic glee. Finally the flames subsided and the messenger rolled around on the ground smoking. He tried to claw his molted helmet of his face but it did no good. His armor had been fused to his skin.

Domivere leaped down from her seat and landed lightly on her feet before stalking over to the whimpering, prone figure. Lifting him up by the neck she pinned him to the wall and growled.


 * Domivere - Now I'm going to write a letter to your leader and I expect you to carry it for me... Though on second thought...

With one swift motion she ripped away his chest plate making him scream out in agony as the molten mass tore away long, thick strips of skin as it was peeled from his body. Domivere pulled out a progressive knife and gave a sadistic grin.


 * Domivere - I think I'll just carve it into your skin for good measure. Make sure an ignorant pleb like you doesn't forget

VROOOM the engines of a Minotaur Plasma Motorcycle roared as it sped down the violet SpeedWay suspended in the air as it twisted its way across the Gothic skyline of the Persan City Air Ship. The Motorcycle was bright red with a white diamond checker pattern. It rider worn a leather similar colored and patterned suit and the helmet was jet black obscuring the rider's face. Coming up on a turn the rider crouched down low and put on a burst of speed sending a concentrated scarlet stream of plasma as she tore through the turn and then began to slow down as she shifted the motorcycle over into the next lane as she pulled into park at a WayStop. Stepping off her cycle the rider took of her element to reveal a jet black Naiyu Vanara with purple highlights streaked through her fur and bright blue eyes. As she got off a black and gold furred Boyk with dark brown eyes named Sandulf waved and walked. He flicked off the timer he had project from his Ocular Nano Machine and gave her a high five.


 * Sandulf - Congrats ya beat your old time. Looks like those new upgrades payed off.
 * Nyako - I should hope so I'll need all the speed I can get if I want to win the Trinity Grand Prix.
 * Sandulf - So you're really going for it, huh?
 * Nyako - Of course I'am. I said what I said and I meant what I. Just like I always do.
 * Sandulf - Well then your pit crew will be right behind you!

He gave her a smile and wink while he said and she gave a small smirk and a nod in return. The two continued onward to a lift that brought them down to the pedestrian level of the city. There they saw a bright pink Versian named Hr'sica, an albino Demonica named Necrops, and massive jet black Doroth named Noxius. All of them had a red diamond with a white diamond within in painted on their right shoulder. A symbol that they part of the same group of friends.


 * Hr'Sica - Heard ya put on an impressive burst up there.
 * Sandulf - Beat her former record.
 * Necrops - Impressive, but will be enough to win the Prix.
 * Nyako - I can teak it up a bit more, but after that... well it'll have to do.

She gave a sigh and Noxius grunted before speaking.


 * Noxius - There's no point in worrying about it at the moment. Besides we have a concert to get to.
 * Hr'Sica - Aww damn, come on let's scram!

The group quickly took to the pedestrian WalkWays as they made their way towards the city's central hub. A massive stage was set up in the center and a even large crowd had gathered around. The group wheeved their way through the sea of people to get a good view. The light dimmed and the crowd quickly grew quiet. Three people step onto the stage, two of which were instantly recognizable. One of the most was Alice Ex Machina. The Sentient Vocaloid/Hardlight Hologram Entity waved to the crowd and smiled brightly.


 * Alice Ex Machina - Hi ya'll! It's Alice Ex Machina here to rock your world and I'm here with two very special guests! Please welcome Fragment Persona!

The blue, black, and pink robotic body the Norn AI was inhabiting waved and winked.


 * Fragment Persona - Hello everybody! I must say its a pleasure to perform with my two good friend in front of you all.
 * Alice Ex Machina - Aliezka Reibat!

A black Naiyu Vanara with one red eye and one glowing yellow waved to the crowd, but didn't say anything.


 * Sandulf - Aliezka Rebat, never heard of her.
 * Nyako - I have, she's pretty popular on the frontier worlds, all across the UAE actually, but good luck finding her. She mostly just plays at taverns and what not. Seeing her here is huge.
 * Alice Ex Machina - Now let the concert begin!

The three songstresses began to play. They got through about three songs, all with impressive laser lights and pyrotechnics. however something happened as when they were about to begin Aleizka titled her head to the side and then motioned her fellow songstresses over. There was some rapid fire discussion before the trio turned back the crowed, grim looks on their faces.


 * Alice Ex Machina - We're sorry, but it is our greatest regret to inform you all that High King Barba Clett of the Mendel Pact has been slayen.

There was a collective gasp throughout the crowd and Fragment Persona picked up the rest of the announcement.


 * Fragment Persona - He was slayen by a rouge Ugandalorian calling himself the Hand of Retribution. The Hand's goals are to take vengeance on the Xonexi and has issued an ultimatum to our government to either join him or it is war. Our government has chosen war.
 * Alice Ex Machina - In honor of our fallen friend the concert has been canceled and we would like to have a moment of silence.

After the moment passed the crowd began filtering out of the Hub.


 * Nyago - War with the Xonexi huh? I don't like the Xonexi, no I hate them, them and their Angelfire, but war...

Sandulf looked at his friend with heavy concern. The Persan had never face the Xonexi or their Angelfire. However missile weren't always on target and at that range... well accidents happen, tragic accidents.


 * Sandulf - Come on let's work on the Cycle some more.
 * Nyago - Right.

The three songstresses walked into a back room. Alice quickly began switching out her guitar for a sword and several guns. Aleizka changed from a Naiyu Vanara to a Third Stage Vanara and switch out her guitar for the weapon known as Daemon Beam Scythe Baskerville.


 * Fragment Persona - Off to the Koatria Protectors Niyra?
 * Niyra - Indeed, Takanius needs to know. Poor boy he's more then able to take it, but it will be hard on him. It always is.
 * Alice Ex Machina - Right, well I'm off to pop the skulls of some important Hand supporters I've got on my hit list. See what information they've got as well.
 * Fragment Persona - I'll keep you guys updated on any new developments with the guilds information network. I'll even try to make contact with the Polychromatic see where that goes.
 * Alice Ex Machina - Right well good luck to you all.
 * Niyra - Ava accel u eee.
 * Fragment Persona - And to you.

The wheels of a red and gold carriage squeaked up the winding road placed precariously atop the steep slop of a massive, jagged mountain. Inside the carriage sat a Vanara Trahaxoi hybrid named Forterra with black fur and blood red feathers who sat impatiently tapping her toes while sipping a glass of blood mixed with the Mendel alcohols Kraa'vee, Jiheer Spirit, and Kadalian Ale. A mixture that would have probably killed most races, luckily Vanara were completely unable to get drunk. Across from her sat a silver scaled Doroth named Xiero with a wry smile permanently playing across his face as he sipped his own glass of blood, no alcohol included though.


 * Xiero - Lady Forterra are you aware of the reason why you are here?
 * Forterra - No I'm not. All I known is that my mother sent me here on a special mission.
 * Xiero - Tell me are you aware of a organization referred to as The Silver Dawn?

At this Forterra's interest was immediately pricked. Her foot stopped tapping and she set down her glass as she leaned forward setting down her glass. Her eyes narrowed and she nodded.


 * Forterra - My mother told me, you're an organization dedicated to studying the lower regions of Accel Space and Stitches that dwell there.
 * Xiero - Indeed you've been educated well.
 * Forterra - Thank you, but you still haven't answered my question. Why am I here?
 * Xiero - Patience, patience I will get to that. You see we are a special division of the Silver Dawn referred to as the Crimson Rays dedicated to study and protection of one thing.

The carriage came to a stop by a pair of massive, black gates with gargoyles intertwined in them. The gates swung open and carriage trundled its little way through before stopping out in the great snowy court yard.


 * Forterra - And that is?
 * Xiero - Step outside and you will see.

Forterra did so as the carriage doors swung open and stopped before a massive Gothic cathedral rising imposingly into into the sharp winter air. from inside the cathedral see could see the soft warm glow of fire burning.


 * Xiero - Welcome lady Forterra to the Crimson Ray's headquarters.

Scanning the courtyard she saw movement to her right and spun to see a massive wolf stalking to her.


 * ??? - Sarjif! What have I told you about eating the guests.

To Forterra's surprise the great beast sat down and actually looked abashed. Forterra then turned back to the cathedral to see, once again to her surprise, a small third stage Vanara with raven hair, blood red eyes, and porcelain skin. Indeed she rather looked like a living doll.


 * ??? - Ah so your're the one Xiero told me was coming.

Forterra looked over her shoulder to she a blond haired man with a square jaw and scruffy beard.


 * Forterra - Your human?
 * ??? - Ah yes, no French though. Name's Caster, David Caster.

He held out his hand a Forterra shook it. The little girl from before came over to Caster and tugged on his jacket.


 * ??? - Caster, who's this?
 * Caster - Ah yes you haven't been introduced. Rose this is Group Commander Forterra, Forterra this is Rose.

Rose looked Forterra up and down frowning a tapping her foot as she crossed her arms.


 * Rose - I was no aware we were having visitors, what is she here for.

Forterra scowled at not being directly addressed, but held her tongue. No need to start a conflict over some child's petulant remark. Caster's eye widened in surprise and he scratched his chin thoughtfully.


 * Caster - You mean the Master didn't tell you?
 * Rose - I haven't seen Master in days! He's been locked up in his study and never comes out.
 * ??? - Well then I suppose I should come out shouldn't I.

Everyone turned to see a figure standing on the steps to the cathedrals entrance. He wore a black trench coat and wide brimmed hat that completely obscured his face, everything about him was caste in shadows. Rose immediately perked up and ran over giving the figure a hug.


 * Rose - Master you've finally come out. Also why do we have a visitor, we never get visitors, or least ones that Sarjif doesn't eat.

The Master chuckled and reached down to pat Rose on the head.


 * Master - Its good to see you Rose and I supposed you've been introduced.
 * Rose - I've been given a name and rank.
 * Master - And those are?
 * Rose - Group Commander Forterra.
 * Master - Good you will need to keep that in mind, because this is the person you will be going with on your first trip outside the cathedral.
 * Forterra and Rose - WHAT!
 * Rose - But I've never been outside the cathedral.
 * Master - And now is the time to start. Don't worry I'll be with you the whole time, now run along.
 * Rose - Fine.

Rose walked up the Forterra and looked up at her.

Rose grunt and stalked off to the carriage with the wolf bounding after her fallowed by Forterra shaking her head. Caster and Xiero came up to the Master and stood beside him.
 * Rose - Alright lets go.
 * Forterra - Good its about time.
 * Rose - Come on Sarjif, we're going.


 * Caster - Master why are we sending Rose off to the outside world?
 * Xiero - Yes I've been wondering about that myself.
 * Master - She has an important destiny. However ones destiny does not come knocking at your door, you must go out and find it.

And with that he walked off with the swirling snow quickly obscuring his presence. Not even leaving foot prints behind.

The Enclaves
"I hate them. I really do. The Eldarisian slaughtered children, indoctrinated our brothers and sisters, threatened to ruin our lives and culture. And they would've, too. If there's one thing I respect of that Human, is that he kept them leashed, and that is the only thing he has down for us. But I do not seeing returning the favor and butchering them as they butchered Waptoria as anything good. Killing children is still killing children, even if their ancestors bear much sin. That's why I'm going to shield them now. They may never know the sacrifice I made, giving up my people, my Clan, and my honor, but I'm going to use my forces, and myself, to protect their children. Though they would not do the same for us, it will not change my stance. Good luck, Kiun. The Path ahead will not be easy."

- Ryaler

Borealum Crisis and the Ultimate Weapon
"If those forces don't go, I bomb."

- Emperor Alexandre of the French

Aftermath
"Time never heals these scars, it only forms a scab."

- Mendel saying

Quotes from others

 * add your own!

Notes and Trivia

 * The Mendel Schism is the first collaborative war created and led by Zillafire101.
 * This serves as a Deconstruction/Reconstruction of Mendel ideals and their hot-blooded warrior nature.