Disorder: World of the Wicked

I

Legacy of Midas Sabien Gathwyn

The streets are in chaos, the people of Yavva had taken to the streets. It's been at least three weeks of continuous civilian unrest, they have gained foothold on the areas previously owned by the 'rich' of the city, 'highlanders' as what these civilians call them. Forced to join the protests or else be thrown to the local prison they had taken. The reek of trash lingers the air and the sidewalks overrun by food vendors looking to make a quick buck amidst the riots. The streets turn black with soot from burnt tires, a common form of protest.

So here I am, sitting atop the roof of the Crimson Crown Café, overlooking the whole city. Down by the entrance, a group of people brandished their weapons —gangsters. Forming a sea of white, blue and purple, ready for the oncoming battle. They await my command. 

Yet here I am, pondering my journey that led me to this moment. I brushed my chin, feeling the rough scar that is hidden under this chainmail veil. The end to my story is nigh.

History is written by the victors. they say, and for this reason, I have decided to write my story down, just in case. 

For quite some time now, the citizens of La Tulpe has relied on us —on gangsters and private military companies, to aid them in the ongoing revolution. What do we stand to gain in this you might ask? Trust, power, loyalty, you name it. After all, an unstable nation is a nation of great opportunities, and who would understand that concept better than P.M.C.s and gangsters.

Personally though, I seek revenge. For those who had framed me, branded me a traitor.
I got up from my seat and closed the journal, then walked downstairs to meet the others. A man of shorter stature greeted me and guided me to the main hall of the café, he wears a white leather jacket, with a purple shield logo painted on the back, similar to the suit I am wearing.

'Everything alright Snow?' The man asked, I nodded. 'Just needed to clear my thoughts for a moment, is everybody here?'

'Everyone except that rascal Devilhouse.'

'Fine by me, let's get the party going then shall we?'

I walked into the hall, the soft afternoon sun shimmering through the front window. I placed the journal down at the bar table, then leaned against the table, looking at everyone in the room. Behind the bar table is another man, clad in military outfit and an automatic rifle slung over his shoulder, last time I met the man his hair was short and clean, now it is neck length, complimented by his bushy beard which gave him a rugged look. From under the bar table, he procured a cutlass and set it on the table, along with a set of two small battle axes and a revolver. My weapons.

'Today, we storm the home of the Lycans.' He started, 'remember, they are a sub-superhuman military force, so, going over the plan again, we use the advantage of the rioting crowd as our shield.'

'Snow here, would perpetrate the chaos. He and the Theo Cheri would be the first signal of our attack, once they raised their flags, the rest of us move in to fight these mutants. Everything clear?' Everyone nodded in response, he then motioned me to continue the briefing.

'Right, if all goes to plan, this base should provide us with the firepower needed to take down the government. If it for any reason fails, that's where you, Ryan, come in,' I said while pointing at a lad sitting pretty close to me, the man is quite thin for his age, but is notably very tall. 'You and your band of street racers would be posted at various points providing an escape for us, take us to Devilhouse's hideout as quickly as possible, if some of your mates can't reach the place or are followed, bring them through the forests where Jeno and his Maanharkrs are going to dispatch them.'

'Right, I'll inform the others.'

'Alright, everything cleared up?' I asked the room, everyone nodded, 'then let's go wreak some havoc lads!' I shouted as I walked out the door to a roaring crowd, we marched our way to the ongoing protest before then joining in.

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