Drelik

The Syndicate “Blood For Coin” Latest News - The Syndicate has been formed and has begun recruitment. The Syndicate have formed light alliances, gained in numbers, and have new requirements and perks for members. (( An alternate short easy application has been made, along with various updates in OP.)) Ranks have been added along with a brief description of each. Information What we do The Syndicate; like-minded individuals who have come together under an old tradition, to take what they deserve. Acting as a criminal network, based on assassination, slavery, theft, kidnapping, gambling, bribery, and even serving as private mercenaries on occasion, ‘The Syndicate’ operates above the law. With its own set of rules, and a hefty pay from the blood spilt through various contracts, members swear loyalty to nobody but themselves. While containing no hierarchy, members earn favour through gaining the respect of their associates. Many think of it as a business, others as a way of life. To live free and outside the law is a dream of many but only few choose to follow that path. Attitudes Towards Others The Syndicate is considered both a brotherhood and a family, all members being treated as such. Any small feuds are dealt with swiftly by whoever is the stronger combatant. Outside of the Syndicate however, others are treated as lesser, worthy of neither respect, nor remorse. If anyone were to offend a member of the Syndicate by for example, the way they look or act towards them, it would not be unheard of for them to be stricken down almost thereafter. It is the Syndicate's belief that morals are only boundaries for a member's full potential and must be overcome at all costs. The Trial True to old principles, fresh blood are first tasked to seize a random bystander, and kill them by whatever means necessary. Some prefer flaying, others a far cleaner and precise kill. The only exceptions are those who have already carried out their initiation under August 'Prince' Flay in the past. The final part to the trial after the first is swearing absolute loyalty to the Syndicate and its cause. Customs Some members of the Syndicate are expected to wear a blatantly noticeable red article of clothing, preferably a bandana, although many members have deviated from this custom. Failure to carry out the trial will result in the individual’s own death, by the hands of an assassin of the Syndicate. Cannibalism is largely seen as a disgusting act, unnecessary and animal-like. However, it is not unknown for certain members to carry out unusual habits in their pastimes. Lore and History With the death of Prince many years ago, the men of House Flay were easily betrayed, cut off from their former allies and friends with no one to look to but themselves. Oren and its Emperor, forgetful and hypocritical towards the actions of House Flay, cast them out, naming the survivors as traitors, outcasts, and murderers. These hardened individuals, having lived so long under Count August Flay were so adapted to his leadership, spreading about Asulon, in hopes of leading new lives. Many of them died, hunted down like dogs by those they once served. Others however, settled down under new names, abandoning the lives they left behind forever. One man in particular, Drelik Letholdus, had served as a bannerman under House Flay for many years. Having held a very limited relationship with his own parents, he saw Prince as a father figure, feeling as if his sudden and unexpected death had left unfinished business... Another of August Flay’s former bannerman of whom Drelik was still acquainted, was Mili ‘The Skull’ Irongut. The two had come into purchase of a camp, from a former slaver, located way out in the wilds.. With this camp, Mili and Drelik spoke of big plans, ambitions they hoped to see through. Soon after, Drelik had sent letters out to all corners of Asulon, addressed to all those who once owed their loyalty to House Flay that, to his knowledge, still breathed. Once again, the men were finally unified, each with a lust for vengeance. Along with the former Bannerman, Drelik recruited others, those whose wit proved as sharp as their swords. Vance, an old enemy of Prince had recently come out of hiding, thirty years after his faked assassination, attempting to hunt down those who still held a past allegiance to House Flay. However, striking a deal with the old assassin, Drelik agreed to have him work alongside the Syndicate for a cause more worthy of the lives they both lived. Now the men, band together for a common goal; to live as free man as many before them had done so in the past. Without the chains of oppression the empire once posed, each of them could operate freely, outside the law and under their own banner. The banner of the Syndicate. Now residing in Fort Modstand; a foreboding place with many secrets, they remain, forever plotting their next move in their ultimate quest for freedom. Rules of the Syndicate - Do not betray The Syndicate. - Do not murder or steal from another member of The Syndicate. - Pledge allegiance to nobody but The Syndicate. - *NEW* Syndicate Members now are to be given two private journals. One written by Noble or other high-rankers, containing Quotas, Contracts, etc that must be fufilled in a certain timeframe. Rewards will be handed out to those who preform exceptionally. The other book is used for them to write there Report of how they went about completing the task set about before them. This will keep our members busy even when the Syndicate isn't out executing a mission together. Ranks The Crimson King - The leader of the Syndicate. Underboss - The underboss(s) are a select few who have time and time again proven there worth in wit, ferocity, and chaos. Current underbosses set a high bar, they're cold, mercilless, brilliant, and deadly. As an underboss, the responsibilites are as great as the rank. Underbosses are assigned there own small group of henchmen and freshblood, possibly assigned to move into a fort in a different location away from the main land. Crimson Agent - An Agent of the Syndicate. Those who are best known for deception will be promoted to this rank, not only will they be called on in assaults, but they'll be doing much of the work behind the scenes, often taking up disguises, new alias' and names. Coordinator of Chaos - The Coordinator(s) of Chaos have possibly the best job in the Syndicate. The Coordinator of Chaos, puts together new objectives, fueled by Chaos, aswell as means to achieving these objectives. Some examples are, individual hits, false flag operations, etc. Such great power, being able to mold the nations to the groups very will, only is to be kept in check by the Crimson King himself. Contractor - Above the average henchmen, respected and deemed worthy enough to take up the responsiblity to be the first person to deal with contracts, and subliminaly advertise them. Henchmen - Generic brother of the Syndicate. Will be given many options to improve his standing, will be called up for raids, and wars, and jobs. Most secrets of the Syndicate will be kept from the Henchmen. New Blood - Pre-initiated member of the Syndicate. The New Blood does not have the right to wear the bandana, nor even call himself a Syndicate. He is entitled no privlidges, and kept in the dark about many of the operations. New bloods will be given many opportunities to complete there intiation and quickly rise to Henchmen. These ranks are not by any means shackles, for someone to be restricted to one job. In the group people take up many different jobs in the syndicate, but those are all secret, you'll find out once you join and rank up. Joining the Syndicate Please send your application as a reply to this thread. If accepted, you will be approached in game.

Great job so far man, also, please don't add PvP skills along with the professions. Skill systems tend to ruin pvp. And if the knockout plugin, please add the toggability of lethal combat.

Drelik "Noble" Letholdus enters the city, behind him are two men wearing there bandanas. Putting his hand up, gesturing for his men to stop, he goes up closer, taking careful steps to examine. "Someone's fawkin' sendin' us a message. Challengin' us." "Tha' same wench who dropped tha' letter next to me on the dock appearantly." He looks to Mili "Skull" "We'll fight dem, we'll exterminate 'em, see that wench again, skin 'er, send the message back."

*You recieve a bird* "Sign me up, Drelik Letholdus. Lookin at the roster so far I already know I'll be winning."

"My search stands, the fool decided at the last minuite that he be stupid so I aint buyin from him"

*You see notices on various boards throughout Asulon* Buying Diamond Armor! I be open to trade, or pay in Mina. Ye can contact me, my name is Drelik Letholdus, I stay in Arethor. (csalz96)

(( Sorry i forgot you komodo! I rememberd just now adding you.. ))

He places his hands on the side of his helmet, lifting it slowly and carefully. Pulling it off his head, he holds it promplty then places it ontop the anvil. Below him, is a artfully stonecrafted pool of water, he brings his head close to it, and thrusts his gauntlents into the water, splashing himself, cleansing himself of the dirt, blood, and sweat of the day. Looking up to the mirror above him, he sees himself, something is missing, looking to his right he discovers a red cloth, which he brings around his mouth, and ties around his neck which falls around his neck. Pushing himself off the stonework counter, he sees his desk, atop the desk all his gear lays, his weapon belt armed with a diamond dagger, one he had been given on training day by Prince, also in his utility belt is a diamond sword, and other michellanous items. Next to his belt is a battered quiver, it appears to be poorly handcrafted of.. exotic leathers.. inside are some papers. Drelik sticks hand in the quiver, emptying its contents carelessly, flipping some appearantly blank papers on there backside, he discovers imperfections among them. Now becoming timid, he grunts brushing all those which don't meet his needs off the desk. "To hard to ask fer a damn piece o' paper!?" he exclaims. Walking to his bedroom, he sits himself on the edge of the bed, accessing the drawer next to him, upon pulling open the draw the face of a man greets him, no eyes, no mouth, just tanned, skinned and dead the face greets him. Drelik grunts, figuring he may have to write on a piece of skin again, he pulls the draw out of the stand completely, gripping it with his diamond gauntlents, the old wood beings to crack. He then forcefully thrusts his arm, releasing the draw, it smashes against the wall, the skinned face seems to cry out to him. "Shut the **** up ye dead ye dead" Looking now at the bottom draw. "Salvation" He pulls out some envelopes not many as not many of his "brothers" still live, he also takes out some papers. His arms full of the parchment, he stumbles over back down the hall to his desk, unaware of the low doorway, Drelik walks directly into the stone archway. His head jerks back, and the heavy weight of his armor accelerates his fall. Hours later. His vision hazey, his head splitting, his pride crushed, he rocks his body, left, right, left right, plopping onto his chest, he puts one leg up, and guides himself up using the nearby wall. About the floor are the envelopes and papers. Drelik kneels down to pick up an envelope, however so thin on the floor, he is unable to with the thick gauntlents. Grunting, he pulls on the gauntlets one at a time, and chucks them across the hall... Bending back down, he resumes collecting the papers. Have collected the envelopes, he looks around the room, studying the floor, squiting, he sees one of the parchments a few feet from him, he stumbles towards it, pinching it between his fingers, collecting it. Having recollected his items, he is focused on his work. Sitting down, breathing a sigh of relief he dips his quill in ink as.. *KNOCK KNOCK* Startled, he knocks the ******* ink off the desk, crashing agaisnt the floor in what seems like slow motion, the glass particles shatter, and the ink sprawls out, tormenting him. "WHAT! "WHO THE **** IS IT!" "It's Tom, I'm sorry If i disturbed your "alone" time!" he exclaims from the otherside of the Iron door. Drelik pushes himself off the desk. "Yer a real fuckin' clown ye know that?" Says Drelik. Angry, Drelik gets up, approaching his weapon rack, where he pulls an arrow off the wall, grabbing his bow with his left hand, he strings the arrow. Pulling the string back, he aims, his eye on target with the Iron door, he releases the arrow, denting and crashing against the door. *BANG* "What the fawk was that?" Says Tom. "An arrow, the next one is diamond tipped so fawk off unless ye want an arrow to the knee." says Drelik. "Your just as fawkin dumb as ye were back in the day. I'll be back later when yer done touching yourself." "Fawk you, yer so full of jokes, aren't ye." Tom exits up the stairs. Alone again, Drelik takes a look at his surroundings, hooking his bow back onto the wall, he proceeds down the hallway, turning into his second door, he enters his workroom. Entering the room, his eyes dart around, as he spots another Ink vial. Drelik grabs the ink vial hastily, and looks both ways before stepping out of the room. He turns his neck widley in each direction, cracking it, and setting his focus back onto his work. Plopping down onto his chair again, his dreary eyes look around, each direction, as silence seems to talk to him, he figures it safe to resume his work. No distractions. Placing his hand on a parchment, he slides it to the front him, dipping his quill in ink. "Mili Irongut" "It's yer good friend Drelik. The time we always talked about draws nearer, I have a plan I never got to fill ye in on. We might have a problem wid da Big T, before I go any further with it, I want ye here to talk about wether ye deem it worthy or not, wether ye want to keep our operation small, er risk this. *He writes where to meet him* "Aeries" "It's yer good friend Drelik. I understand yer busy and the last time we talked was in a dream world. I got a plan, but I want to know if yer in or not and wether ye think it be worth it. Ye busy with the rogues I know, If yer in ye may need to bring em to, my plan involves possibly foightin an old enemey o' ours. Ye a veteran, been a flay longer then I have. Send me a bird, or meet me 'ere *writes the location*" "Caliean Baelish" " It's yer good friend Drelik. I dunnae if ye found a better callin'. I can't promise ye what Prince promised ye, but I always considered ye a brotha, I'd hope ye'd be willin to help yer old brothers." "Tom" "Bring me somethin' to eat" "Yert Zenon" " How ye been Yert. As I talked with ye about, the time to act is near, ye 'ave to meet me. If this works, ye won't be a guard who stands behind the action. Ye'll be sinkin' in diamonds, drownin' in gold like the ol' days. Work with me. I know yer interested. Meet me 'ere *writes the location to meet him* Alistair The Savage "Tis Drelik, how ye been? Eatin people? I need yer help savage, I'm gettin the group together, er tryin atleast. Ye remember the dreadfort? I be tryin' to get it back. We may need to fight fer it. Ye 'ave to meet me so we can discuss our future. *writes a location* "John Woods" "Hail John, its yer old brother in arms Drelik. Ye are a likable soldier. Ye never bothered anyone, ye always did yer job, and ye were funny to look at. I think ye know what this letter is fer, as I told ye long ago. If yer interested, reunite with yer family". *writes the location to meet him at * Drelik slides the parchments over to the center of the desk, reaching across, he grabs the envelopes. Licking them, he folds the parchment, placing each inside the envelope. "Needa' start recruitin' four fawkin guys.." Drelik gets up out his chair, grouping up all the envelopes. Eyes studying his desk, he spots a red linen cloth sticking out of a book. Looking at the cover of the book, it reads 'Skinning For Dummies' "Whut is dis?" He pulls the cloth out, placing the envelopes in the center, he folds the cloth over. On the desk is the battered skin-stiched quiver. He graps the envelopes, placing them in the quiver. Thrusting the quiver over his shoulder, he wets his torch and sets out.

Bid closed. Sold for 1000 mina.

Writes "I don't have forever, this auction will end on the next elven day er until someone buys out at 2 thousan' mina." Start biddin'

You see posters of a artistically sketched set of Golden Armor. "Legally acquired, rock hard, stylish golden armor for sale". "Don't you want to look like a noble? Are ye a noble? Want to show off yer power? Who else do you see wearing Golden Armor these days, stand out, ladies love a unique man. Command your troops in battle, stand out from amongst the crowd in this vibrant collection of Golden materials !" All for a starting bid of 600 mina!

Another thing aside from the freedom. There was no law lol, so my character took 2 other bandits and went to like every town demanding half there harvests. Let's just say at the end of it all I became the Bread Bandit. But obviously it's better to have Ic law then not to ;) I think the core or everyone's e enjoyment after reading this is the no regions, thinking back, that's also what made Aegis awesome. ( at least for me)

Overall, i enjoyed the freedom. I enjoyed being able to pick apples on my own without filling out a damn application for a 20x20 plot of land. Seriously, whats next? Fun application? An application in which you must fill out to have fun?

That TNT causes me to lose 20 diamonds 2 stacks of coal, 4 iron sets. There was some complaining.

Blood for coin? Are you kidding me? This frustrates me so.. Be original don't copy House Flay, that completely turned me off from this guild.

Drelik sits in a ragged, low-grade camp tent, before him are letters, notes, and plans. His eyes meet with this particular notice that was pinned in the Temple, next to it he takes a look at his map of Oren with a knife in it. Picking up the notice, he reads. Drelik runs his fingers through his hair "A chance to get what I, we, deserve, to complete Augusts', Divinus' work." "Oren used us to expand there borders and make them what they are today, then they wiped there arses with us and cast us aside!" He looks back to the map of Oren with red x's and a Knife buried into it. "This land is ripe for the taking!" Drelik pulls the knife out of the spot of Oren on the map, and places it on Armaluna. "Me and this "Delphine Saelantae" will make things right." EDIT: Drelik scurries out of his chair, stubbing his toe into the supports holding the tent up. "Aw, fawk!" Getting down on the floor in a hurry, he scurries through an old arrow quiver filled with parchment, looking for a blank peice, but finds them all written on. Drelik looks up, and sees the tanned, dried skin he took off a Wolverine, shrugging. The skin, all tangled up, he stretches it out, pinning each opposite corner of it to the table with a knife, to hold it straight. As he writes... " I'm very interested in assisting you with your cause. This type of work only has one solution, and I believe I come from a line of men who handled these situations perfectly. Armaluna deserves indepence, and they're going to get it! My name is Drelik, Im a 'retired' Knight, and advocate of the renown 'Prince'. Over the years we've handled jobs like this extremely well, I look forward to making some sort of arrangement, so we can both get what we are looking for, which are very common goals. Please cons- *The skin parchment seems to have the rest of the ink spilled on it* Drelik knocks the ink over onto the skin as he writes his conclusion, and grunts Pulling his bandana down, he puts two fingers in his lips, and blows, calling for his bird. A black crow, seemingly divebombs through the roof of the tent, ripping a large hole in it. "Use the fawkin entrance!" He sends the bird off.