Man Down: RP 5 - Printable Version +- X-treme Wrestling Federation (https://xwf99.com) +-- Forum: Warfare Boards (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=6) +--- Forum: Warfare RP Board (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=12) +--- Thread: Man Down: RP 5 (/showthread.php?tid=19416)

Man Down: RP 5 - Sebastian Duke - 04-02-2015 Tuesday, March 31, 2015 | 7:22 PM Local Time | Outside The Chancellery | Berlin, Germany ”Shots fired! Shots fired!” comes the call over the radio. The security detail scrambles to cover the leadership of the Illuminatus Regime. ”Is anyone hit?” asks another voice. ”Yes! We have a man down!” comes the reply just seconds later. ”Rescue vehicles are en route!” shouts another voice. ”How many shots!?” asks one voice. ”Four to six. I feel like they came from separate directions.” comes the response. ”I'm hearing we have taken down one of the shooters, we're in pursuit of the other!” The leadership of the Illuminatus has been hurried and shoved into an awaiting armored Lincoln Continental sitting nearby. The car hasn't moved and the head of security, with his gun drawn, approaches the car as sirens are heard off in the distance, rapidly coming closer. Just as the security guard reaches the rear door, the door swings open. Stepping out is Sebastian Duke. ”Sir! Please! Get back in the car! There could be more shooters we don't know about!” pleads the guard to the towering figure that is Sebastian Duke. ”How the hell could this happen!? Are you guys even trained in combat!?” demands the King. ”The fault lies with me, sir. There is no amount of apologies I could give you to make up for this,” the security chief says to Sebastian as the ambulances roll in behind them. The King shrugs off the security guard for the moment and its noticed only now that his hands are covered in blood. He reaches into the Continental and lifts out a body. ”Matt! Keep his chest covered!” barks the King. Matthew comes out of the car with the body, he hands pressed firmly against the chest of the King's right hand, Jacob. The emergency technicians hurry with the gurney. The King lays Jacob on the padded mat and Matthew keeps his hands pressed against his chest until relieved by a medic. A few tears escape Matthews eyes as Jacob is loaded into the ambulance, drifting in and out of consciousness. ”Get in the car,” the King says to Matthew, not taking his eyes away from Jacob. ”You guys head to the hospital with him, I'll be along shortly.” ”No, I'd rather,” starts Matthew before being curtly interrupted by his King. ”I don't fucking care what you'd rather, Matthew. The hospital is where I want you,” commands the King. ”Yes, sir,” Matthew replies. He enters the Lincoln and closes the door. The ambulance lurches forward with its siren whaling, reverberating even louder than normal off the tall building surrounding the Chancellery. The Lincoln starts to follow, but squeals to a stop. The rear door pops open and young Thaddeus steps out. He slams the door shut and the car continues on behind the ambulance. ”You're supposed to be going to the hospital,” says the quieted King. ”Grandfather thought you might want my company,” Thaddeus replies. ”Besides, I might need you more than you need me,” says the Prince through blood red eyes as the young man fights back tears. It's obvious, that the King is overcome with emotion, too. Unlike many others, he'll never let it out. He places his hands on Thaddeus' shoulders and looks down into his sons eyes. ”Remember,” he starts, choking back his own emotion. ”A great leader shows strength in the face of adversity,” he concludes. ”Yes father, I know. I'm trying. Jacob isn't just another subordinate though.” ”I know,” replies the King as he pulls his son into a brief hug as the head of security quietly approaches, giving the father and son a moment. ”What's your name?” asks the King, noticing the head of security approaches. ”Gabriel, sir,” replies the young man. ”Gabriel, are you German? Or are you Illuminatus?” asks the King. One may wonder what kind of leader doesn't know his subordinates, but there are hundreds and thousands of those that stayed in small sleeper cells all over Europe that he's not yet had the time to meet. ”Illuminatus, sir. Through and through. Your victories and failures are my victories and failures. I live for you, sir,” the young man says. ”Your men. Where is their allegiance?” he asks of Gabriel. ”I beg your pardon, sir,” replies Gabriel, unsure of what exactly his King is asking him. ”What I mean, Gabriel, is just where your men are aligned. Or they Illuminatus? Or are they Germans?” ”My apologies, sir. They are Germans,” Gabriel answers. ”Why?” ”The thought was that they knew the people. Knew the land. Knew the terrain better than we did,” he explains. ”Why would we think that, Gabriel? Why would we think that when we've had sleeper cells all over Europe?” asks the King, growing irritated, but trying hard not to show it. ”Your Highness,” starts Gabriel, noticing his Kings increased agitation. ”While it is true we have had sleeper cells all over Europe, including here in Germany, none were here very long. Not long enough to know the people and all the areas of the country,” he concludes. ”After the shooters are taken care of, Gabriel, you will use only Illuminatus men. Is that understood?” asks the King after delivering his order. ”Loud and clear, sir,” he replies. ”They're trained in combat. They're trained to know when something just isn't right,” says the King. ”That's just the way it's got to be from now on,” he concludes. Gabriel holds his hand to his left ear. ”Sir, I've just received word that one of the shooters have been apprehended. We thought we'd taken him out when we fired back but we were wrong.” ”Seems like a familiar pattern. The other shooter? What of him?” asks the King. ”We are currently still in pursuit of him.” A moment later, a crowd of security personnel make their way out of a building, dragging and pummeling a man believed to be the shooter. He is then slammed against the King's personal sport utility vehicle and both the King and the Prince of the Illuminatus make their way over to the crowd. Sebastian starts wading through the people, pulling them off of the man. Two guards remain, flanking the would-be prisoner as Sebastian Duke comes face to face with him. ”What is your name?” the King asks the man. ”Fuck you,” replies the man with a thick Italian accent. ”Did you shoot at me?” he asks. The Italian smiles. ”It is unfortunate we did not hit our target,” he replies. ”You hit one of my men. Are you proud of that?” ”He was not the target.” ”And just who was the target?” the King asks. ”Mr. Duke, I don't think I'll answer that question. Do what you will. Torture me, kill me. It does not matter to me. You and your men are willing to die for your cause. To protect your cause. I would do the same.” ”Far be it for me to refuse a request from a guest in our country,” says the King as he grabs the man by his hair with his left hand. He exposes the dagger attached to his right and holds the cold steel against the face of the Italian. ”You know, I think I'm going to enjoy this one,” says the King as he rears back with his dagger hand. As he starts to plunge the dagger into the Italian, his arm is grabbed, forcing him to stop. Sebastian looks to his right and sees his son grabbing his arm. ”Father, allow me,” requests the Prince. The King smiles slightly, then steps back and looks at the Italian. ”Well, I think he might enjoy it slightly more than I would. Thaddeus smiles slightly, much in the way his father just did, then reveals his own wrist attached dagger and drives into the mans throat. Rather than pulling it out, he starts to saw away at the Italians neck. Blood pours from the gash and squirts when Thaddeus cuts through the carotid artery. The Italian screams out in agony before his cries fall silent and his eyes just stare back blankly. The King reaches in, trying to stop his son, but Thaddeus shoves his father away. ”It's done, Thaddeus. The man is dead. You can't kill a man twice,” says the King to his son with no reply from Thaddeus. The young Prince saws away some more before taking one big swing of the blade, severing the head from its body. Thaddeus turns with the head in his hands and looks at his father, ”no, now its done.” ”Gabriel,” says the King to his head of security. ”Get this all cleaned up. And get my truck cleaned,” says the King as he starts to walk toward the entrance to the Chancellery. ”Your Highness,” starts Gabriel. ”The other shooter has been apprehended.” ”Good,” replies the King as he continues toward the entrance. ”Bring him alive. I will select a few men that will make up the new Sanguis Consulere,” says the King. He stops as he reaches the entrance, then turns to look at Gabriel. ”With you acting as Praesul, Gabriel, they will require your approval.” ”Yes, sir,” says the young head of security, smiling ever so slightly. ”What of the prisoner?” he asks. ”Bring him into the Chancellery. I'll have the Sanguis Consulere in the basement to watch over him when he arrives. Chain him up. Then bring your men to the Chancellor's office,” he commands. ”As you wish, sir,” says Gabriel as he returns to his men to deliver the orders from the King. 41 Minutes Later ”What do those terms mean?” asks Thaddeus, breaking the deafening silence. The two have sat in complete silence since returning to the Chancellor's office. ”What terms?” asks the King. ”You said 'Sanguis Consulere' and called Gabriel 'Praesul.' What do they mean?” ”Sanguis Consulere is Latin for 'Bloodline Protectors.' Praesul just means the leader of that group,” replies the King. Seconds later, Gabriel knocks on the door and enters. ”Your Highness, the prisoner is under guard in the basement. The men are here, just as you ordered,” says Gabriel, as he leans his head through the crack between the door itself and the door jam. ”Thank you, Praesul. Bring them in,” replies the King. Gabriel does exactly that as he opens the door wide and ushers in twenty men. The men all stand at ease in front of the Illuminatus leader sitting behind the Chancellor's desk. The King stands up and walks around the desk before leaning against its front edge. ”You men have been charged with the task of defending the leadership of those in power in this country. Likewise, it is my job, as King of the Illuminatus, to protect and defend the leadership of that Illuminatus. “It just so happens that those two leaderships are one and the same. I respect all of your willingness to put your lives on the line for ours. However,” the King says before pausing. ”What happened out there today is unforgivable and completely inexcusable. “You all did a fine job in apprehending these perpetrators and you have my unending gratitude for that. However, I regret to inform all of you that your services within my security detail are no longer needed,” the King says with an even tongue. ”Before you leave here today, I need you all to know that Jacob is like a little brother to me. Not to mention the only true friend I have ever had. If he dies because of this, I promise you all that I will hunt each and every one of you down. I will start with your families. I will end their lives while you are forced to watch. Then I will end yours,” warns the King of Darkness. ”You're all dismissed,” he says as most of the men start filing out. ”Your Highness,” says Gabriel, ”this is the one that pursued him on foot from the start, and ultimately captured the second assailant,” he says. ”Is that a fact?” the King asks. It is now just the four of them left in the Chancellor's office. ”Yes, sir,” replies Gabriel. ”Sit on down here a minute,” orders the King of a young looking dark haired man. ”What is your name?” Sebastian asks the young man as he takes a seat in front of the desk. ”James, your Highness,” says the young man with a thick British accent. ”You're obviously not German. Are you Illuminatus?” he asks. ”No, well yes,” James replies. ”Which is it? It can't be both,” says the King lightheartedly. ”Well, I worked in military security for England when I turned eighteen, sir. Then I came to Germany in the same field about a year ago. But to answer your question, I always thought the Illuminatus was a myth. Sort of a legend. I never thought it was real until you all arrived here,” says James as he takes a breath. ”Since then I've done my own research and come to the conclusion that I'd like to join your cause. I'd like to join your fight for what is right.” ”Is that right?” ”Yes, sir.” ”What is it about the Illuminatus that intrigues you enough to even want to join our cause?” asks the King. ”It's your confidence. Whether you are doing things perceived as unsavory by the rest of the world or not, you have this confidence that you have the truth on your side. You do the things you do, not because they are easy, but because they are hard. You do the things you do, sir, regardless of how they are perceived by the rest of the world, because you have the confidence in knowing that you're right, and the Catholic world is wrong.” ”The truth is, James, I've done a lot of things that I'm not very proud of. Things of course, that needed to be done to preserve our way of life. And when the time is right, James, the Vatican will burn. It will crumble at my feet and then, the world will learn the truth. How do you feel about that?” ”Your cause is my cause, sir. If you believe that is the right course of action, then I shall stand beside you. To guard you. To protect you. To aid you in achieving that goal.” The King stops leaning on the edge of the desk and returns behind it, taking a seat in Asmodeus' giant leather chair. ”I'm reassigning you,” says the King. James eyes perk up, having technically just been fired a few minutes ago. ”You will assume the responsibility of guarding my son. You will protect him at all costs even if it means your life. Is that understood?” asks the King. James stands up and salutes his King. ”I will do whatever is asked of me, your Highness.” ”By doing this, you will serve the Illuminatus. You will serve the heir and by all rights, the single most important person within the Illuminatus. Prove your worth, son. Then we'll talk about you taking your blood oath.” ”Thank you sir,” says James. ”I will never let you down. I swear it,” states James emphatically. ”No, I don't suppose you would. “You need to be the shadow of Prince Thaddeus. Wherever he goes, you best be right beside him. If he takes a piss in the middle of the night, you damn well better be outside that door. This is above his head. You take your orders from me, not from him. Have I been clear enough?” asks the King. ”Perfectly clear, sir,” replies James. ”Of course, this means you're attached at the hip to the inner-circle, James,” the King states. ”Never, are you ever to repeat to anyone outside of the circle what you hear, what you know. Now, is that understood?” ”Absolutely, sir,” James replies. ”I can not tell you how much this means to me. It is an honor to serve you and to serve the Prince. It is a true privilege to serve your Illuminatus.” ”With that out of the way, Gabriel. Take me to the prisoner.”