An Old Man's Quest: Part 2
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As the brown haired woman walked toward Marcus, he noticed subtle things about her. Her hips moved with the sort of wide stride that accompanies childbirth. She was a mother. Also, the stick which she walked with had a rustic quality about it. It reminded Marcus of an old friend of his: Jacques Baroné, The Hammer.* He would always hulk about carrying a large staff that he had ripped from a great oak. It was old, worn, and absolutely devastating when used properly. The woman before Marcus seemed to be powerful enough to be imposing with a cane, but too lacking in experience to do any proper damage. Still, he would not want to test her. "New? To the pack you mean, or just to the area?" said the woman. Marcus had only the confirmation of two of the pack's many members, and so he did not count himself as being a part of such yet. "To the area," he said, "I've only just arrived on these shores in the past few days." Marcus approved of such questions. He would not expect anybody to know who he was around here. His legends were strung in lands far far away.


When the blue-eyed female in front of him slipped her utterances into Italian, Marcus once more felt right at home. As with Ehno, it had warmed his heart to find such a familiar tone in such a far off place. He smiled a deep, warm smile, and said, "Thank you. I picked up a lot during my stays in Rome and Venice. I myself, however, hail from London. I tend to figure that my accent would give it away, but I'm so world weary at this point that I suppose my tone has become one of many dialects. It was true. Marcus had become so peregrinated that his London accent had been lost, and a new, 'Pseudo-Euro' dialect had consumed his speech. It would be near impossible for anybody to pinpoint his exact origin from his voice alone.


Marcus' eyes widened in glee, and his mouth opened to sound out a celebratory noise. "Ha! I could have bet my life on that! You look so much like your brother, I could have sworn you were the same person," the old man laughed. "A pleasure to meet you, Ghita Marino. And thank you. But I suppose this is hardly the appropriate instance for 'welcome'. I arrived two days ago, and met with Anu. Yesterday, I met your brother. I suppose it is fitting that now, I meet you, and then tomorrow, your sister." Marcus laughed, but then drew himself back inward. He had come to seek out Savina, not her sister... But what was another day? Perhaps it would be best to gain favour with the pack members before meeting their leader. It wasn't like he had a deadline to meet. Savina could wait. Ghita was worth a chat.





*In 1997, a group of French revolutionaries took it upon themselves to create L'Orage de Approche; The Oncoming Storm. It was a radical group designed to locate and destroy any and all pieces of human architecture, technology, and culture. In 2002, a large Orage platoon led by Raelle Couchon ransacked Versaille, and began to rip it apart. The Congregatio took notice, and sent in their best associates to deal with the threat. Marcus Birch, The Musketeer; Amalia Corusa, The Historian; and Stanislaus Javoltz, Der Spion, were all present. During the initial struggle, Amalia and Marcus were captured while supplying a distraction for Stan. He would proceed to run to the nearest settlement, and rally up a small militia. The militia, led by Stan and the town's Alpha Male, Jacques Baroné, would rush the palace, and succeed in saving most of the valuables inside. In the final confrontation between Raelle Couchon and Jacques, the latter would show his exceptional strength of mind and body, leading to his eventual induction into the Congregatio.


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