#ioren

[silversiren1101]

WIP Wednesday

I wrote previously on how I've changed Mino's monster nemesis from ghouls to a vrykolakas because of the new pathfinder ghoul lore... which meant I had to rewrite the report from the night she was arrested by the Hellknights that led to her pledging herself as an armiger. Not fully sold on this one yet, but I'm happy to post on WIP Wednesday after so long!

Occurring in the pre-dawn hours of Calistril 21, the Scourge-held Adivian Bridge security zone underwent full lockdown and garrison mobilization following the sounding of alarm spells along the zone’s north-western flank, caused by an unauthorized entry. The suspect, a ganzi woman of human ancestry, made no attempt to hide or disguise herself and was swiftly located by responding Hellknights shortly before collapsing from readily apparent delirium and severe injury shortly. She was duly detained, wartime protocols promoting assumption of insurgent intent over consideration of exigent circumstances, wherein Paralictor Ioren Jaisade, acting within his purview as presiding garrison commander, readied formalized charges pending the results of the ensuant investigation.

The investigation proceeded immediately, with examinations of the suspect’s confiscated belongings and physical condition conducted prior to rousing her for direct questioning. Regarding the former, only an authentic Molthuni dancer’s spear, significantly damaged, was viewed as suspect, yet the investigation could only concede it circumstantial at best without additional evidence of theft or murder of a protectorate military officer having led to its acquisition. The results of the physical examination likewise failed to yield actionable evidence to the charges at hand; however, conclusions by the attending signifers proved pressing in their own right to the investigation, as the numerous injuries covering the suspect’s body, many severe and all-together considered life-threatening, were determined to have likely been inflicted by neither man nor endemic fauna—the sole exception being a blade wound severing the suspect’s right calcaneal tendon. Concerns about the potential presence of a previously undetected threat in the region, as suggested by the unknown nature of these wounds, were subsequently given primary precedence by the investigation. Direct questioning followed, with minor medical treatment provided to the suspect to restore consciousness and lucidity. She cooperated with the investigation readily upon being roused, without the need of exigent motivations, wherein her testimony detailed an alleged “monster attack” occurring around dusk earlier that evening of the trespass, in which some unknown creature “burst from the ground” beneath the camp she and her four traveling companions had erected for the night. The creature proceeded to savage the group, slaying the four others, and upon managing to escape, the suspect then followed the lights from the Adivian Bridge in the darkness of the night, seeking safety and medical assistance. Specific details provided by the suspect in describing the creature furthered the investigation’s concerns about severity of this previously unknown threat in the area; primarily that it had “latched onto” her neck and seemed to “feed” from her, its stature, speed and brutality, and that it had emerged from the earth—distinct characteristics of a vrykolakas, a bestial and notoriously dangerous vampire-kin. Further examination validated this suspected identity, as the suspect’s anemic state was discovered to be worse than what could be suggested by natural blood loss from her injuries, in addition to the presence of pre-symptomatic plague.

Regarding the pending charges, further questioning of the suspect as to the reasons she and her companions had for being in the region so close to the security zone similarly failed to yield a confession or evidence actionable by the investigation. Her testimony claimed only that she and the four deceased had been traveling from Westpool to Westcrown on a delivery contract, having avoided the Adivian Highway at the behest of their employer for fear of banditry. The contents of the delivery, allegedly unknown by the suspect in addition to the identity of their employer, were believed by her to be a significant amount of coin, though for what purpose she was unable to surmise. While initially viewed as suspect by the investigation, a sketch recreation of the emblem she recalled on their contract matched that of House Ghival, known loyalists to the Imperial House of Asgavan, and thus allies by circumstance to the Hellknight Orders. Questioning shifted to possible foul-play or betrayal within the group in reference to the suspect’s unexplained blade wound in addition to the suspected value of the delivery; the suspect, however, refuted this allegation, claiming that it had been mistakenly inflicted by one of her companions “in the confusion” of the attack.

An immediate excursion to the alleged campsite was thereby deemed necessary despite wartime restrictions on investigative fieldwork, as the credible presence of a vrykolakas in the area poses a clear and present threat to continued Order operations, and the possible misplacement of significant allied assets necessitates imperative recovery. The suspect’s detainment was extended out of consideration for security and further questioning pending the completion of this excursion, with minimum medical treatment provided to sustain life as per protocol. This excursion proved fruitful on both active fronts of the investigation, as the scene of the attack, discovered approximately two miles north and east of the Adivian Bridge via following the suspect’s tracks from the scene of arrest, contained what was both the confirmed gravesite of a vrykolakas in addition to evidence of insurgent activity actionable towards the suspect’s pending charges. The creature itself had not yet returned to the site by the time of the excursion, its tracks heading instead into the Egobarius Plain, yet with the knowledge that vrykolakas must return before one or two week’s time depending upon their age and power, the investigation advised there was yet time to prepare for the extermination of the creature. More immediately pertinent was the discovery of evidence that directly contradicted the suspect’s testimony, including but not limited to a journal detailing Hellknight patrol sightings along the the Adivian Highway as well as a lockbox containing legal tender, assumed to be the contents of the alleged delivery, all bearing concealed marks used by the Hellknight Orders to track criminal and, or, insurgent activity. Additionally, the location of the camp itself provided a viewpoint advantageous for seditious intent and espionage, having been erected upon a plateau surrounded by deep brush overlooking the Adivian Bridge and Westcrown beyond. The investigation suspected neither foul-play nor betrayal among the suspect and other agents, of which their bodies, four in total, and pieces of were recovered within a 300-ft diameter of the site, yet no shared allegiance nor benefactor was able to be identified from the examination of the camp, the bodies, and items recovered from both aside from a singular Asmodean tattoo discovered upon one of the corpses suggesting possible Thrune affiliation.

Returning to the suspect for further questioning regarding these discoveries and contradictions to her testimony yielded mixed results. Semi-delirious from the symptoms of her progressing plague, she continued to refute having any knowledge of, or hand in, working with anti-Loyalist forces in the ongoing war; and, when ultimately confronted with the specific evidence, she only expressed visible shock before falling nonverbal and despondent. Her plague symptoms progressed rapidly thereafter, preventing the use of more traditional interrogation methods.

Ultimately, the suspect’s claim that she did not enter the Adivian Bridge security zone with criminal or hostile intent was upheld by the investigation as legitimate. As the torches around the bridge and battlements are both visible at night from the scene of the attack, as well as the closest sign of civilization, her testimony that she only sought medical attention was conceded as valid. Further corroborating her claims of innocence, the cadence suggested by her tracks, her known injuries, and depressed spots along the trail suggesting the suspect fell and did not rise for periods of time indicated an approximate minimum travel time of six hours, and so it was not believed that she deliberately waited to enter the zone under the cover of night. Thus, the original charges were not believed by the investigation to be founded.

However, the investigation did conclude that the suspect as being yet guilty by extension of the crimes of the deceased. Despite her cooperation for the majority of the investigation, the suspect’s silence and inability to produce evidence of both her non-involvement and ignorance of her companions’ espionage proved not enough to prove beyond doubt that she herself had not been complicit. Thus, for threatening the operations of, and subverting the objectives of the Order of the Scourge, thusly propagating further chaos against the interests of restoring a peaceful and orderly Cheliax, the investigation held that the suspect be sentenced to death.

The active investigation concluded after forty-five hours. At the time of this writing, additional resources were requested for the purposes of tracking the vrykolakas and ultimately exterminating it upon returning to its gravesite. The Orders of the Pike and Nail both were similarly informed of the creature’s presence.

[copperdaisy]

Ugh. This has been a very, very long work week and I still need to do my taxes. Buuut it is also Friday and I don’t want to Adult anymore so I’m going to pick at OCs instead. I went digging through three year old fic notes and decided that since all of those stories are shelved for now I’d just lump all of these assorted Mandalorian OCs into one group.

Disclaimer that these guys pretty much just have names and personalities but no real backstories because I am horribly, horribly behind on Star Wars lore. I have to take all things SW related slow because it was a hyperfixation for me when I was in middle school and I heavily burned myself out on it. Which means that I haven’t seen any of the cartoons and it’s been yeeeears since I even watched the movies. So, take this all with a grain of salt.

Anyway. These guys are now their own little group that’s just out there in the galaxy doing their own thing. They will inevitably end up crossing paths with other Mandalorian tribes at some point, just don’t know when. Starting at the top and going left to right we have Surais, Braya, Tathe, Kamryn, Amivel, Nath, Regus, Ioren and Lenhu. There are probably a couple more in the group but they don’t even have names at the moment so they’ll just be... around.

Gonna shove the rambling about them under a read-more since this is long enough as it is.

Surais Bruss is more or less the leader of the group. While he likes a good fight as much as the next Mandalorian he is pretty chill most of the time. It takes a lot to ruffle his feathers and he is not particularly bothered by other people’s opinions of him. If they have a problem with him it is their problem, not his, unless they see fit to make it his problem. He leads through a combination of confidence, skill and a healthy heap of patience. And, you know, a willingness to smash heads together when needed. He’s quite inventive when it comes to telling people to get their shit together and designing metaphorical get along shirts.

Braya Krett is the second in command. He is soft spoken and known for having a “melodic” voice, which makes it all the more scary when he catches a tribe member doing something they shouldn’t be. He is quick to set a troublemaker to right and is the main reason that squabbles are kept to a relative minimum in the group. Trust from him is slowly won but he is not actively hostile towards new faces unless given a reason to be.

Tathe Caid is the medic of the group. She is the one that patches their sorry asses back together, and at times is the one who runs in to retrieve their sorry asses when they have gotten themselves into trouble. The medbay (or whatever counts as it) is her domain and woe be to anyone who forgets that. Bravado and pride have no place in that domain if they interfere with her work. She has no issue calling an idiot an idiot and is quick to call their bluff if they try to downplay obvious severe injury. Yes, yes, she knows that they can fix themselves, blah, blah, blah. Now shut up and let her do her job, you’ve already made a mess of her exam table.

Kamryn Aisair is... complicated. She was raised in a different group, one that tore itself apart in a very bloody clash of opinions and beliefs just a few years ago. She was a young teen at the time, and the abrupt loss of most of that original group left long lasting scars. In the years since she has been chasing after some undefinable ideal of acceptance and perfection. She is bitter and abrasive and the group member most likely to cause trouble. However, she has begun the slow process of healing from past trauma since being taken in by the group. It is just going to be a long, long road before she can leave the past in the past.

Amivel Sung is one of the few other surviving members of Kamryn’s birth tribe. While she too is scarred from the destruction of their families and home, Amivel has funneled her grief into less self destructive things. She is a skilled hunter of both bounties and game, which is just as well, considering that her people skills are somewhat lacking. It’s not that she doesn’t want to be a part of the group - she very much does. She just needs her space to be alone and gets twitchy if she has to stay in close quarters for too long.

The other four I’m still working on fleshing out. I know that Nath is a bit nervous and uncertain of himself. Regus is Tathe’s assistant is every ounce as no nonsense as she is, but with a visible sense of humor. Ioren is Lenhu’s nephew and the two don’t quite see eye to eye, as Ioren blames his uncle for the death of his father while simultaneously agreeing that there was nothing Lenhu could have done to prevent it.

I don’t know if I will ever actually do anything with these guys but at least the foundation blocks are there.

[lainocencianopruebanada]

I.I

Cuando entró en el habitáculo se sorprendió de ver a tantas grupos, no esperaba demasiadas la verdad, al fin y al cabo todos desconfiaban los unos de otros y los feudos y vendettas internas eran casi interminables pero en su fuero interno había esperado que la gravedad de la situación hiciera replantearse su habitual estado de guerra semipermanente a menos lideres.

Vio a los ominosos Ungidos, con sus hábitos bermellón imitando los ropajes de los adeptos del Mechanicum; un poco más allá a los Cromados, con sus refulgentes implantes con los que hacían ostentación de su nombre ( y de su riqueza); los ruidosos Ratas; Los Señores de la Energía y otros hasta completar algo más de una docena. Tan diversa congregación lucía orgullosa sus colores, tatuajes y emblemas frente a los demás, aunque milagrosamente nadie estaba intentando matar a nadie. Ella no fue menos y lo primero que hizo conforme entró en el inmenso módulo de almacenamiento fue quitarse el respirador, si iba a meterse en la boca del infierno lo haría con la barbilla bien alta y proclamando a los cuatro vientos quien era. Mientras atravesaban los diversos grupos oyó pullas, insultos, y como no más de una referencia hacia ella y su cuerpo que ignoró con todo el aplomo que puedo reunir y a los que respondió con miradas de desprecio. Se veían armas por todos lados, pero todo el mundo parecía haber acatado el acuerdo de no traer la artillería pesada. Olió a sudor, a humo de lho y de obscura, a aceites y perfumes baratos y sobre todo, de fondo, el inexistente pero más que evidente olor del miedo, la ira y la violencia contenida.

Jurgen les guió hasta una de las esquinas y se limitó a recostarse contra una de las paredes tras saludar someramente a los grupos que estaban a su alrededor. Ioren se fijó con disgusto que estaban en un zona demasiada despejada, sin apenas cobertura y alejados de cualquier posible salida fácil, miró a su alrededor maldiciendo la poca previsión de su líder pero pese a su enfado poco podía hacer, si la reunión devenía en una batalla campal sus posibilidades de escapar eran como mucho escasas. Mientras maldecía a Jurgen, a la madre que tuvo la mala fortuna de traerlo a esta galaxia y a ella por dejar su destino en manos de semejante idiota pasaron los minutos hasta que finalmente Sigma-XXVI, el líder de los Ungidos, decidió autoproclamarse en maestro de ceremonias y subiéndose a un cajón de carga empezó a intentar que la muchedumbre guardara silencio.

-Hermanos, silencio por favor- pronunció con la metálica voz que salía de la rejilla metálica que asomaba desde su capucha deshilachada. -Hermanos, gracias por venir- repitió subiendo el volumen y provocando ecos a través de toda la estancia. -Gracias por venir a esta inusitada reunión, que la bendición del Omnissiah descienda sobre todos nosotros-

Ioren puso los ojos en blanco cuando escuchó estas palabras, los Ungidos eran famosos por su fervor religioso y no podía creer que pretendieran dirigir las conversaciones como si estuvieran en una ceremonia del Ministorum. -Si hubiera sabido que veníamos a rezar habría traído mis armas de bonito- grito Jurgen de repente sardónicamente, y muchos aprobaron su chiste con ruidosas carcajadas y continuaron la mofa mientras ella cerraba sus puños con rabia y los Mácian jaleaban la ocurrencia, no podía creer que tal y como estaba la situación Jurgen pensara en tomarse todo esto como una chiste. La situación ya era bastante tensa como para pretender convertir esto en una juerga de cantina.

-Él Que Todo Lo Conoce no se pierde en semejantes trivialidades de la carne, hermano- respondió sin inmutarse Sigma-XXVI. -Pero no nos hará ningún daño pedir su guía en esta empresa. Así pues ¿quién de vosotros hermanos desea ser el primero en hablar- a lo que Jurgen respondió con los hechos consumados de dirigirse el primero hacia el centro de la sala pavoneándose como un petimetre de la cúspide. -!Todos sabéis quien soy, o al menos deberías de saberlo- los Mácian respondieron a su bravuconada golpeándose los pechos y aullando como animales en celo mientras Ioren intentaba disimular las ganas de dispararse a si misma y acabar con todo. -Soy Jurgen, de los Trigésimos, y ha llegado el momento de que establezcamos una alianza bajo mi mando para plantar cara a los perros encapuchados de los niveles superio...- El resto de su frase quedo ahogada por un torrente de improperios, insultos y amenazas más o menos veladas que hizo que las paredes del inmenso almacén retumbaran mientras cada grupo gritaba y Jurgen era rodeado por sus guardaespaldas , tensos como eslingas de carga ante semejante muestra de rechazo.

Ioren ni si quiera se movió, anonada ante la inmensa estupidez que acaba de oír de semejante mentecato que pretendía unificar a la turbamulta de las pandillas en el momento en que más tenso estaba todo simplemente haciendo un alarde tan estúpido de supuesta fuerza. Por un momento parecía que todo iba a estallar y que se iba a producir un combate a múltiples banda pero milagrosamente las muchísimas armas presentes siguieron en sus vainas y pistoleras. Mientras el griterío continuaba y evolucionaba hacia muchas pequeñas peleas y desafíos entre grupos adyacentes Ioren aprovecho para estudiar a los diversos líderes y especialmente al lenguaje corporal que mostraban ellos y sobre todo sus segundos. Olvidada en un rincón devoraba con atención cada pequeño gesto, cada silencio cuando lo había, como se comportaba y como reaccionaba cada uno de los alfas de todas las violentas manadas humanas allí presentes.

Fue en ese momento cuando su mirada se cruzó con la de otro pandillero, un Van Cortland a juzgar su ridículo sombrero y los colores pandilleros en forma de rayas blancas y negras, no sabía su nombre pero inmediatamente reconoció a un igual, él también estaba un poco aparte, con una media sonrisa sardónica en su cara y le hizo un leve gesto de reconocimiento señalándole a la masa vociferante del centro. Ella apenas pudo reprimir una risa y respondió poniendo los ojos en blanco y mirando hacia el cielo.

Fue eso lo que le permitió ver claramente el fogonazo del disparó que apenas se escucho debido a los gritos.

[crispy-sand-gator]

2am doodle

[dndfuckhouse]

MARN CATRAIN

Race: Drow

Age: 27

Height: 5′5″

Weight: n/a

Class: ??

EMERICK DE BENROL

Race: Human

Age: 32

Height: 6′0″

Weight: n/a

Class: ??

IOREN BLUNE

Race: Tiefling

Age: 26

Height: 5′8″

Weight: n/a

Class: ??

[alphazi]

hey remember that square face icon maker from years ago? i stumbled upon it again and got invested in making more

characters are mine and @strongfeelingsaboutsalads

[simmeupscotty]

I may have lost Zee Vurst but at least I have Ioren Tenebris (yes it’s so creative), a sim version of a shadow sorcerer I made.

Anyway new girl moved into the cabin in Moonwood Mill, she seems a little bit... weird.

[vulpixelates]

Happy Pride month! In honor of the gayest 30 days of the year, behold my many gay OCs. This isn’t all of them but uh it would take more than one post to showcase all of my LGBT+ OCs. :’)

[Top row from left to right (bisexual babes): Ioren Lavellan, Aden Brosca, Julien Trevelyan. / Middle row from left to right (pansexual pals): Amatia Amell, Sara Ryder, Ro Shepard. / Bottom row from left to right: Elera Lavellan (asexual), Nora Hawke (demisexual lesbian), Hessa Adaar (lesbian).]

[ironbullsmissingeye]

🍫 🐱 Ioren gifting Shok some homemade bread? She's an excellent baker and would love to make him smile ^_^

Here ya go~

Ioren knocked onto Shokrakar’s door, twisting the handle to open it before he could even call her in. She held a roll of bread in her hands, a soft wool cloth wrapped around it to keep it safe. She was excited to give it to him, especially since she had made it herself. Shokrakar had never hidden his love of bread, if anything he announced it every time someone mentioned food. When Ioren mentioned she knew how to make it she saw his old, tired, eyes light up, a large smile curved onto his scarred lips, and his cheekbones lifted higher than they already were.

“Oh, Ioren!” Shokrakar said happily as he looked over his shoulder at her. He was leaning sat on his bed, facing away from his door. He had his hammer settled between his legs, a cloth in his hand, he was polishing it...again. “What can I do for you my-” He sniffed the air and went still for a moment then sniffed again. He slowly moved his hammer away and leaned it again the wall. He pushed off from his bed and turned to face Ioren, his eyes wide with excitement. “Is that what I think it is?”

Ioren nodded, a large grin curving onto her lips. “It is,” She held up the cloth it was wrapped in the pulled it away slowly, revealing the bread. It was perfect, just the way Shokrakar liked it. A thick, crusty crust, the most perfect golden colour he had ever seen in his life. “I remember you said you like it,” She stepped closer to Shokrakar, who held his hands out to her. She placed the bread into his palms, it was still warm. She watched Shokrakar’s eyes, shaking, his pupils dilated, he was excited. “I hope you enjoy it.”

Shokrakar took a deep breath and placed the bread onto the end of his bed, once he had made sure it was safe he stood upright and faced Ioren. He took a couple of steps forward, looming over her, if she didn’t know him so well he could have been intimidating. He lifted his arms and wrapped them around her tightly, pulling her against his body. Ioren froze in his arms for a moment but then she slowly melted into him, wrapping her arms around his wide waist.

“I owe you my life,” He whispered. “Everything and anything you want, I will get it for you.”

[seboostianillustrations-ina-blog]

for the reactions meme: 🍀 (with Balder and my Ioren Lavellan, who is a sassy loser)

🍀 … winning an arcade game with your muse.

Balder chuckled quietly as he watched Ioren growl in frustration as the game screen had a big “Game Over” text flashing on it. He smiled as he gently put a hand on the elf’s head and stroked his fingers through her hair, before he went behind her, his head leaned over her shoulder as he placed his hands over hers. 

“Here. Let me help you, dear.” Balder said, his voice dark and rumbling as he restarted the game, his focus completely on the game and not on Ioren’s watchful gaze on his face. A chuckle escaped Balder when the game machine bursted out in a retro song and the reward tickets slid out of the small opening in the front. Balder turned his head to look down at Ioren and laughed a little at her frustrated pout, directed at him. 

“You can have anything you want from the rewards, dear. I already won a few reward tickets earlier today, so you can have whatever you want.” Balder said, his voice soft and warm as he leant back and took a step away from her, a mischievous grin on his face as he pulled a pile of reward tickets out of his pockets. 

send me a symbol for my muse to react to…

[letteraturaetilica]

MADDALENA . . Amare non significa mai una cosa sola e nemmeno una cosa alla volta. . . . 📸 @paolocammillucci . . 🖊  Valentina Iorene Desideri @iorenedesideri  Letteratura etilica @letteraturaetilica . . . #letteraturaetilica  #poetrycommunity#movimentoperlemancipazionedellapoesia#crossingpoetry#internopoesia#iotrovodappertuttolapoesia#andrewfaber#poetesseitaliane#scrittoriemergenti#poesiacontemporanea#poesiecrude#donna#gioevan#leggo#poesiadistrada#poesiaitaliana#poesieinmovimento #instapoesie#scrittori#monologo #teatro#scena#film https://www.instagram.com/p/CNFuq5EHXnK/?igshid=kjc3gh036s58

[lainocencianopruebanada]

I

Mundo Imperial de Agripinaa, Sector Agripinaa, Segmentun Obscurus 6.262 post ACM.M41

Ioren no dejaba de mirar a su alrededor inquieta, lo cual era normal teniendo en cuenta todo lo que había pasado en los últimos meses y semanas. Avanzaba junto con el resto de miembros de la embajada de su banda por un pasillo de mantenimiento hacia la unidad de almacenamiento donde se había convocado la reunión.

Ella cerraba la escasa comitiva con la inmensa mole de Jurgen, su lider, al frente y los también amenazadores hermanos Mácian, los guardaespaldas personales y puños ejecutores de sus decisiones y castigos. El hecho de que Jurgen le hubiera ordenado acompañarles era cuando menos inusual, pero dadas las terribles bajas entre los rangos de los Trigésimos (todo un alarde de originalidad llamar a la banda como el número de nivel donde operaban) había obligado a pescar lo mejor entre el menguante talento. Pese a la sorpresa de su ascenso Ioren estaba dispuesta a defender su nuevo puesto con uñas y dientes, e incluso la noche anterior a la reunión había tenido que cortar de raíz los murmullos indignados invitando amablemente a cualquiera que tuviera el valor de decirlos en vez alta a un baile de cuchillas. Nadie se había atrevido, pues si bien Ioren no destacaba por su potencia física entre sus compañeros de armas, la mayoría adictos a los stims y los anabolizantes de crecimiento, se había labrado con los años una sangrienta fama de letalidad con sus machetes gemelos.

Y pese a todo no le hacía maldita gracia ni la situación por la que había llegado a ese maloliente pasillo olvidado del Emperador. Desde hacia ya mucho tiempo la vida en la colmena Iota III de Agripinaa se había vuelto aún mas dura de lo normal, si bien las pictopantallas y vocoemisores de la colmena tan solo hablaban de batallas lejanas y gloriosas victorias contra los enemigos del Imperio en lejanos campos de batalla los rumores transmitían escalofriantes relatos sobre ataques planetarios en el hemisferio contrario del planeta y desde hacia ya mucho tiempo se había producido un enorme aumento en las cuotas de producción, parejo a grandes reducciones en las raciones y pagas. Además de que cada vez la tecnomilicia de la colmena realizaba mayores y más frecuentes redadas, y a diferencia de antaño, ya nadie volvía tras caer en sus garras.

No, las cosas no iban bien, y para acabar de empeorarlo todo desde hacia meses la violencia había estallado entre las pandillas de la colmena. La acumulación de redadas y la falta de recursos había hecho que cada pandilla se volviera más agresiva conforme sus fuentes de dinero, armas y comida se habían ido agotando provocando al principio fricciones fronterizas, que rápidamente degeneraron en ataques y asesinatos y finalmente en guerra abierta conforme la desesperación y el hambre aumentaban. Y mejor no pensar en las noticias que llegaban desde la Subcolmena hablando de auténticas masacres y relatando episodios de violencia que hasta a la propia Ioren, una curtida veterana pese a sus escasos 20 ciclos de vida le hacían murmurar una plegaria para si misma.

Los Trigésimos habían sido duramente golpeados, si bien una banda relativamente poderosa dado su control de las plataformas de intercambio y transporte de varias zonas de aterrizaje y maglev el menguante número de operaciones de descarga y el aumento de seguridad y patrullas de la tecnomilicia de la colmena había hecho que su fuerza de combate y de personal descendiera y que se vieran cada vez más acosados tanto interna como externamente.

Y por último estaban las muertes… No es que un pandillero no estuviera familiarizado con la muerte y que no fuera habitual que durante una guerra por el territorio la sangre corriera a raudales, si pero en el transcurso de los últimos meses docenas de jefes y subalternos habían caído en circunstancias extremadamente sospechosas: veneno, bombas trampa, disparos de precisión…

Y finalmente llegó la eliminación de todos los miembros de alto rango de los Pordioseros. Los Pordioseros eran la banda más infame de todo Iota III, sus territorios estaban en la zona más peligrosa y profunda de la colmena y controlaban la zona más baja de ella y la parte superior de la subcolmena. Nadie en su sano juicio quería verse obligado a tratar con ellos, no ya por sus costumbres de vida, que les habían conseguido su descriptivo nombre, si no porque incluso en el mundo violento y salvaje de los pandilleros su fama de extrañas costumbres y rituales hacían que nadie quisiera relacionarse con ellos más de lo necesario. Y sin embargo cuando se extendió la noticia de que los habitáculos donde se ubicaban su enclave principal habían colapsado tras una serie de explosiones de conductos de energía el resto de pandillas decidieron que era hora de dar un paso atrás en la actual guerra e intentar llegar a algún tipo de tregua mientras aún estuvieran a tiempo.

-Hemos llegado- gruñó Jurgen -Recordad los términos de la tregua y dejadme hablar a mi- les dijo mientras consultaba un sucio trozo de papel y tecleaba un código en un panel de acceso lateral.

Ioren torció el gesto tras su respirador, Jurgen era un buen líder de banda si nos atuviéramos solamente a los aspectos de fuerza y violencia, pero cualquiera con un mínimo de inteligencia sabía que la mente pensante de los Trigésimos había sido siempre su mano derecha, Rini. Pero Rini había aparecido degollado en un burdel de mala muerte hacía tres semanas y desde entonces Jurgen había incluido a Ioren en su círculo interno, no por que le gustara, pero ella había sido puesta por Rini a cargo de la intendencia de la armería de la pandilla y en un raro momento de clarividencia su embrutecida mente de pandillero adicto a los stims pensó que podría ser la sustituta natural de su negociador.

Por un momento Ioren pensó en dar la vuelta y marcharse, dar alguna excusa ridícula como tener que ir al lavatorium y iniciar el largo viaje hasta los niveles intermedios y probar suerte alistándose en cualquiera de las oficcio de reclutamiento que habían surgido como setas por todas partes en los últimos tiempos. Lo sopesó durante una fracción de segundo pero luego apretó la mandíbula y siguió a sus compañeros a través de la esclusa. No había sufrido todo lo que había sufrido durante su corta vida para achicarse en el momento en el que por fin rozaba con los dedos la cima. Capearía el temporal escudándose en la inmensa mole de Jurgen y cuando llegara el momento se desharía de él y por fin podría moldear a los Trigésimos a su imagen y semejanza. Dejar tanta violencia salvaje a un lado y reinar mediante la aplicación inteligente de este.

Y por supuesto que tendría que ver como hacer que los Mácian desaparecieran del tablero de forma oportuna, ni loca iba a dejar su seguridad en dos masas de músculos que a duras penas eran capaces de hablar y caminar a la vez.

No, se dijo mientras se adentraba en la cavernosa zona de carga llena de un colorido y abigarrado grupo de embajadas pandilleras. Este era su momento, y por el Trono que lo iba a aprovechar.

[ladystarks]

Some people: there will never be a show as cinematic/relevant/exciting as Game of Thrones

Ioren Byrnison: hold my armor

[crispy-sand-gator]

this is ioren hes a bearded vulture demon harpy and i have no idea what to do with him yet

also hes not 100% designed yet

[fuegosinluz]

no ioren x mi, io ia estoy muertx

[alphazi]

a commission i got of ioren at anime los angeles this year!! i lost the artist’s contact info unfortunately ;_; i’ll edit with it as soon as i can find it