Iron Dawn: Shadow of War - RPG

We are all bound by the decisions we make. What will be your destiny?

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The shamans were quiet.

Smoke washed over the moon, bathing them in a shroud of darkness amidst the glowing embers of the bonfire. The woods were harvested long ago, stored and dried, for the very occasion. The spirits needed to be calm in order to have a clear thought process. This was perhaps their most important summoning, the moment at which the fate of worlds would be decided. A juncture that could never be ignored.

But, the shamans were quiet.

The spirits spoke to them, in all of their elemental fury and wisdom. Fire, Earth, Wind, Water. Their voices, despite having been prepared for and given admirable accommodations, were worrisome. Each word whispered into the ears of the orc-lords shuddered with an inaudible fear. They were not afraid of the war. The war existed as inevitable, something they could not change.

"They're frightened, Gorrok," Logash murmured in the night. His wolf helm followed his face as he craned to look at his warchief through his gnarled back.

"Of what?" the noble orc replied. Normally, the spirits offered guidance. Tonight they seemed to invite disaster instead.

Logash hesitated, and Gorrok understood. To have the elemental lords stop their quarreling and come together was no easy task. To have them agree was even more difficult. But to have all of them unsure of what to do next, even being as warlike and vicious as they were, stood as a monument to the weight of the task at hand.

"They say we will not win," Logash confirmed Gorrok's suspicions. "They say it is impossible,"

Gorrok handled the news rather well. His strength kept him standing when all hope left his body, and his will of iron did not diminish in the face of this intolerable heat bubbling inside of his heart. Fear? Anger? A mixture of both, swirling together. A raw emotion without a name. One that very few could challenge on the spot and win. Gorrok was not one of those. He knew firsthand how powerful Warsman and his empire were. To ignore this fact only meant destruction.

"The Iron Dawn is rising, Logash," he said at last, breaking the uneasy silence between him and his shaman-lords. They all affixed their hooded gazes upon their warchief, unsure of what to do as the images of the elemental manifestations disappeared into the nether.

"And we will meet it with the resolve of Steel and Hellfire. Open a portal to Spain. The Red Queen and I have much to discuss, and a Court to rally."

@shanana

Having finally lost the weight she’d been carrying for months, the Spanish President sat in her Madrid office overseeing the productivity on Valerie’s super sentinels. She took the reins at a time where Spain was experiencing a flourishing economy coupled with good foreign policies. “Mrs. Pettis you are being summoned by a man named… Gorrok?” Her advised reported, seemingly took back by the nature of the visiting man.

“I will see him” She said, turning her attention back to the productivity charts. Prior to joining the Hellfire Club; Ziccarra had very little knowledge of the forces that command. Gorrok was someone she probably would’ve never came into contact with had it not been for the HFC; as the Red Bishop entered her office the Red Queen rose to greet him.

“Greetings Gorrok, what can I do for you?” She asked knowing his call was for matters of business. He was a hard person to predict, he didn’t seem like the type to need or want money; given his position in the Red Monarchy he already had a certain amount of power.

As she presented the visage of a welcoming atmosphere, she wondered in the back of her mind; what a person like him needed her for.

@warsman: @shanana:

Having recently encountered his biological parents at the encouragement of his stepmother, Ziccarra, Leonel found it infuriating that it was a third party responsible for his parents' radical moral transition. And though he had promised the Cardinal Goddess that he would hush his internal indignation, he needed a release. And so, over three billion miles from Earth in the Kuiper Belt, the Modern Man allowed himself that relief. As minor celestial bodies surrounded him alongside the all consuming blackness of space, Leonel likened it to the darkness he felt when his parents turned against his entire world. He was a child then. No older than twelve with no idea what to make of his life. All a child needs is a home. He had none. He was fighting a war.

A war to save his entire reality. He was his own parent since then. Until his twenty-second birthday. He had grown accustomed to waking up everyday with no person to share it with. He had forgotten what a hug and a kiss on the hand felt like. All he knew was how to be a soldier, to lead others into war, to protect the defenseless. He fought for the hope of everyone else around him, for them to believe in a greater tomorrow. He had grown so obsessed with the happiness of his fellow man that he had forgotten about his own happiness. And so he'd smile and conduct himself with positivity, it was his face, his defense, because inside his pain was tangible. And though that had all changed since meeting Ziccarra and Alexis and being welcomed into their family, the revelation that it was an unknown party that had taken control of his parents and turned them against his world, it angered him.

Suddenly he felt all of it. All the anger, the sadness, the pain. He now had someone to blame, someone to target for the loss of his childhood, world, and parents. And he would get his vengeance. Though as he balled up his fists, ready to unleash power that could consume entire worlds in a violent burst, he released nothing as blobs of his tears floated all about him. There at such a distance from Earth, nobody would see him. And in space with no medium for sound to travel in, nobody would hear his cries as he sobbed. He was tired. So tired of living his life on his own. Until being welcomed into Liafador-Pettis family, he was afraid of becoming as cold as stone and eventually breaking. Reality M, it's war, it was a wound that he would never heal from. He carried the weight of that universe for so long during the war, but he allowed it to fall. To carry the weight of a world, it was no task for a child.

He would always recall that pain. And despite the comfort, the love and warmth he receives now from his friends and family, he'll never truly escape it. He knows that it's over, but he relives it in his memories every time his eyes close. Still, he finds the strength and fortitude to stand up and face another day. But only after crying for yesterday. Accelerating into the distance, a stream of selectively generated photons propelling him forward, Leonel made his return to Earth, having gathered himself in his moment of solitude. As his mother's Red Knight, he was to be by her side and protect her. A duty he fulfilled in his role as her son as well. Descending from the clear skies of Madrid, Leonel set foot inside the Royal Palace of Madrid before pausing before the door to Ziccarra's office, issuing a mannerly knock. "Mom, it's me, Leo".

@azure_son: @shanana:

The orc bowed his head out of reverence for his Court leader. To be honest, he would not be surprised if she did not recognize him as the Red Bishop. Regardless, he returned to his normal posture with a purpose in his hulking physique.

"My queen, please call an emergency meeting of the Red Court."

@warsman@azure_son@dark_vengeance_@zeon_liafador@vinicius_corvo

Ziccarra returned his bow with a slight curtsy of her own, acknowledging Gorrok’s position inside her court, despite the fact that she had no idea of his exact position. Before she could react to his request; she could feel the powerful reverberations of either her son or Alexis impending arrival. Just as quick as; the reverberations came, so did a knock at the door. “Leo, Darling it tis lovely to see you my love”

She said, personally going to greet her oldest child with a kiss on both sides of his cheek. “Leo, this is Gorrok the Red Bishop of our court, I am not entirely sure if you two have met…” She said standing back as the two exchanged subtle nods of respect.

“What is this Iron Dawn?” She asked, before realizing it would be best to gather the court before he explained. Though there was no immediate sense of urgency in his voice; she could tell it was a pressing matter.

Using her ability to tap into the minds of others Ziccarra sent out a telepathic message to those aligned to the Red Court of the Hellfire Club.

“Members of the Red Court, we have a pressing matter to discuss meet me in my palace in Madrid”

@warsman@azure_son@shanana

The Red Crow of Naples sat perched atop the Almudena Cathedral in the historic city center of Madrid. From his vantage point he watched as a row of people dressed all in black walked into the impressive structure. It appeared that today was a sad day in one of Madrid's biggest tourist traps, for it was host to a funeral. A young boy had been abducted on his way from school. It had made all the news channels and had kicked off search parties all over town. Just as it seemed the boy would never be found something truly miraculous happened: the boy was delivered straight to his parent's front door. You could excuse the boy's parents for being less than happy, however, for their only child had been cut into tiny pieces and unceremoniously stuffed inside a black trash bag. Chuckling to himself, Vinicius wondered what brand the bag was. After all, it proved it's mettle by holding over 30 pounds of flesh and bone, a testament to its strength. He'd have to further investigate that.

Getting to his feet, the last Aggressor felt a familiar sensation in the back of his head, followed by a voice, clearer than any digital communication could ever be: “Members of the Red Court, we have a pressing matter to discuss meet me in my palace in Madrid.” Ziccara, the Red Queen of the Hellfire Club was calling on the court for the first time since Corvo had agreed to come aboard. He wondered if this was his chance to finally kill someone. He had gone without a good cold-blooded murder for about a month now and he was getting antsy.

Wasting no time, the skilled assassin jumped from the roof of the cathedral and as he rushed to meet the pavement below he let out a burst of telekinetic energy, slowing his progress and allowing him to make a clean and graceful landing. As his feet touched the pavement Vinicius was surprised by the six men walking out of the cathedral, holding a tiny casket atop their heads. What appeared to be the mother and father stood in front of the procession. Shaking off her husband's hold, the mother took a step toward the Aggressor and spoke with red, tear filled eyes "Eres un angel? Has llegado a guiar a mi niñito a la presencia de Dios?" [Are you an angel? Are you here to guide my boy to the presence of God?]

The Red Crow pondered the question for what seemed like an entire minute. Part of him wanted to laugh, to tell the woman she was mistaken or stupid, that there were no angels, that there was no God. But something in him relented. He remembered how red his own eyes were when he discovered his mother burned to ashes that fateful day in Naples, how the tears had rolled down his face, how he had felt so alone. "No soy angel, no, para nada. Pero mi mas sentido pesame esta con vosotros." [I'm no angel, far from it, but my deepest condolences are with you.]

Vinicius turned on his heels and sprinted towards the street. Once there he saw the flawless black Bentley Mulsane parked by the curb. He took a seat in the back of the cab and gave his driver a look of urgency, "To the presidential palace. Ms. Liafador is expecting me."

5 Minutes Later...

The Last Aggressor wrapped himself in his familiar black cloak, given to him by his former master. As he walked the long winding halls of the Presidential Palace he took a moment to reflect how far he had come, from the dregs of Camorra-controlled Naples all the way to the Spanish President's doorstep. He reached the large double doors of the president's meeting room which were flanked on either side by her personal guards. The younger guard on the right gave the Aggressor an inquiring look and seemed ready for battle, poised to defend the queen inside. He was, however, immediately calmed by his older, seemingly wiser counterpart. "This is Vinicius Corvo. He is the Red Rook of the Hellfire Club. Madame Liafador is expecting him. Enter, Mister Corvo."

The Italian shot the young guard a smirk as the double doors were opened to him, revealing three individuals already inside. He removed his hood and smiled at each of his court-mates, lingering for a moment on each before setting his gaze upon his Red Queen. His deep voice echoed in the large meeting room.

.