Umm so where is my character, I am probly going to have to be re-introduced, damn my absence
I think i may start up an RTD to keep me coming back to the forums (more like restart one of my dead ones)
Umm...
He *should* be coming to the building where the others are. Just read the last few rolls. And the quick summary I/we made.
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Amatin glanced at Churchill quickly, then relaxed his posture and changed his pretense of a righteous fury for a different mask. Now his look turned into that of a weary soldier fresh from the frontlines - perfect when you had to apologize for excess hostility.
"...You speak truly, it seems. Very well. My name is Amatin Seathunder. I apologize for a heated initial reaction - I wasn't sure whether your company would be willing to comply, so I felt it necessary to press the issue. Bad things have been happening across the universe lately, and their repercussions here could authorize an out-of-court confrontation with your employers over so much as a false-positive on thief-detection. It is fortunate that the recent events did not touch this company... but I digress." Amatin took out a coin from his pocket and showed it both sides to the guardsmen, so they could see it's not a trick-coin. "Since I have already stated the time of the duel and you have claimed the place, it is only fair to let the chance decide our weapons. Number for ranged, monarch for melee!" Amatin flipped the coin in the air and caught it as it fell down. [1d2, 1 for number, 2 for monarch: 2] Opening his fist, Amatin revealed His Majesty's profile on the coin. "It's melee. Olimer Churchill, do you agree to fight the upcoming duel with weapons of melee nature and these weapons alone?"
"Roger that. I agree to these terms. Might I warn you, however, that you will not be facing a mere security officer in this duel. Allow me..."His assistants brought him his equipment. He put on a thick coat, appearing to be graphene layers over a type gel, possibly impact-resistant. He then attached various plates of dull brown... material over his shoulders, knees, chest, feet, and forearms.
"I believe you will definitely face a challenge once you realize that I am from the Warhounds. The king's preferred mercenaries, I might add."Olimer finished putting on his gear and drew a glass rod with a handle. He pressed a button, and the blade began to glow a bright purple, with a brilliant white beam shooting down the center of the rod. he then turned it off and sheathed it again.
"Just making sure it works. Any words before we fight?" he said, heading through the door.
Some of the employees in the room left their posts and came over to watch. The others, scoffing at the lunacy of the situation, sat down and continued working and handing out brochures to newcomers.