Othello the Legatus Act 2 Part 1.18

Act Two Scene 3 Part 2

The doorway to the Tavern was barged in by the staggering Cassio, holding onto his wound at the left forearm. It was then Iago was still in discussion with the other two aides on the offering of Lusitania.

"What did happened?" Iago got up to his feet and approached the Pilus. He had the Pilus seated down while asking for bandages and water.

"What manner of our men? He attacked me in the dark but I was not one who was easily ambushed. I fought him and had him wounded, but he pursued me." Cassio told Iago. "If only I had not ...."

At the doorway was Roderigo who held his own sword. He was followed by Montana who must had heard the fighting.

"Where is the pig who tried to stabbed me in the back?" The newly arrived shouted out. He looked to the two aides, and then at Cassio.

"I remembered you well. Your wound tells a tale I would like to end." Roderigo lunged at the Pilus, but Montana who had grabbed the man.

"Hold your fire, young man." Montana held onto the younger man. But it was Cassio who rushed at Roderigo., but his thrust was deflected by the sight of Montana who shielded the other. Montana then in turn faced the drunken Cassio.

"Hold yourself, Legionnaire." Montana told the other. He was one before and knew his way to discipline another.

"Legionnaire, I am. And no one ambushed me and gets away." Cassio shouted back, in which Montana replied.

"Legionnaire, you are a disgrace to the ranks. You are a Centurion, yet you are drunk." Montana retort back. "I am ashamed to be seen with you."

"Who are you to vilified me?" Cassio threw aside his gladius and rushed at the other for a fist fight. The other aides rushed to assist the two wrestling on the ground while Iago whispered to Roderigo.

"Raise the alarm. Wake up the others." Roderigo nodded and ran out of the tavern screaming like a mad man. He saw the tavern bell hung outside the doorway to signal the opening and closing hours. He pulled at that like a raving mad man.

Meanwhile on the upper level, Othello was awaken in his restful sleep with Desdemona. He pulled himself up and walked to the window. He saw the commotion downstairs and then walked back to the bedding. Desdemona was also awake but he told her to stay there. He placed on his mask and clothes before he stepped out. He met Emilia on the corridor but ignored her. He walked on down and saw the Lusitania aides restraining Cassio with Iago.

"Stop it!" Othello shouted. "Cassio, report to me."

But the later was still struggling in the arms of the others to finish the fight. Montana was seated across the flooring there nursing a bloodied face. He grabbed the nearby goblet and threw it at Cassio.

"Drunken fool!" Montana cursed at him.

"Hold your manners, all of you. Its the Legatus here and he needed some clarification." Iago playing to the tune of command to impressed his superior officer.

"What did happened? One day we were fighting tribesmen, and the other, we are fighting among ourselves." Othello shouted out. He saw the other legionnaires at the doorway and had them chased off. He closed the door and faced the fighting duo.

"Tell me as to what had happened? Or I would have both of you flogged in public." Othello cautioned them.

"I am sorry, Legatus. We were having a drink and discussion when Cassio came in. He was .....drunk too. He had some with us but I guessed he had one too many. He claimed ....someone ambushed him and he fought the other off. Then he saw Montana and they fought." Iago told it all but not the whole scene. He feigned some signs of being drunk himself.

Othello looked to his second in command. The other shied away when Othello asked him.

"Cassio, what manner of conduct did you get yourself into? You are a good legionnaire, and above all, you were to be in charge tonight. How did you....degrade yourself?"

Cassio looked to the Legatus and felt the shamed to reply.

"I have nothing to add, Legatus." Cassio replied. "I was drunk."

"Drunk? Cassio, you are my second in command, and well respected by all. You are supposed to be the wiser of the lot, and you dare to tell me you are drunk on duty. Fighting like brawler..... Cassio, you are a disgrace."

"Disgrace or not." Montana stood up. "Your Pilus had injured me both in the body and name. I done nothing but to protect him from his raving lunacy attacks. As a former legionnaire myself, his action is unpardonable. I shall see that this is reported to the Governor for further action."

Othello heard the threat and wanted to end the matter there. So he called on answers he seek.

"Come down, Montana. If there was a mistake here, let me the one who would rectify it. I want to know exactly what happened here. This looked to me like a match between my legion and your folks." Othello tried to shift the bearing of the fault towards the others. "We came here to protect your land and above all, never would seek a fight with those we protect."

"My side the fault of this? Preposterous!" Montana looked to Iago. "Tell your Legatus what did transpired."

Devils' Own Steam Punk Mystic Tale 1.3

1.3.

Three months ago from that night of the murder of Lord Tannen, a hooded man in the dark robe took his strides rather swiftly while he crosses the streets. He was in the seedy side of the city where the thieves and murderers congregate openly. He had crossed over a few streets and always checking for any one tailing. Once he was sure that he was not followed and proceed on the route that he was familiarize with. It was the next third street that he sneaked past the third door after the right corner. The gas light there lighted at dusk revealed it as a hat shop.

Inside the shop, the rows of hats had been there for some time, and the owner of the shop was seen dusting off some imaginary dirt when the hooded man walked in. The owner looked up and nodded before reaching for the hidden switch below the counter. The wall cabinet at the rear of the shop slide open to reveal an open passageway. It was a short walk descending with careful steps as there were a series of traps there for the uninvited. He came on a grilled gate padlocked from the outside. There was a guard there, seated behind a desk. The guard was a bulky man dressed in a plain tunic, but he was underrated by many opponents who normally ended with injuries.  His right hand was placed below the desk holding a pair of pistol aimed at the hooded man.

“Welcome, Kassius.” The hooded man was greeted at the end of the passageway. The hooded man did not bother to reply but he shown the hand signs of the Guild to allow him entry to the door behind the sentry. The sentry pressed the switch to activate the lock on the grilled gate. It was a pneumatic switch which when activated, released the air to push the latch back. The door opened to a small hall where another sentry was seated there behind another desk. The man was also dressed in a loose plain tunic smiled.

“You are late. Way too late.” The man in the loose plain tunic reached to raise the desk board before he pulled the lever there. The hooded man ignored the guard there, and walked on towards the door next to the desk. It opened to what will be called an elevator. It was a metal cage measuring six by eight feet that was hoisted by a pneumatic pump that brought it up and lower.

The hooded man stepped in while the elevator lowered him three levels. The ride took over a minute before it stopped before opening to show a larger hall. In the hall, there were rows of larger and wider desks manned by more men dressed like the one that was in the earlier hall. They were all busy at their desks. He knew some of them; recorder of the tasks carried out by the assassins.  The Hall was lighted by the overheads oil lamps that were the tradition of the Guild.

“Kassius, you are needed.” A voice boomed from the end of the Hall. The hooded man drew back his hood to reveal his face. The face was half covered with the unkempt facial hair while longer hairs flowed past his ears to his shoulders. It was the emerald eyes that brought out his expression.

“Master, I was away.” Kassius replied. “For too long.”

“No, Kassius. You were away not of your own doing, but the test to rebuild your strength and also your faith in yourself.” The man who earlier spoke limped on his half stump encased in the metallic leg. The man was similarly dressed like the others, but he had an appearance of leadership in his move.

“Kassius, your return is timely as you are to embark on another task.” The man whom Kassius called his Master replied. “But first, get some rest and meet at the Main Hall for the brief on your next task at dawn tomorrow.”

The figure beneath the hood whose name was Kassius nodded and proceeded to the lower levels where the personal chambers are based. He was soon in his personal chamber. The place was furnished with bedding and some basic furniture. On the side of the chamber, his uniforms were stacked there in an orderly manner. The servants ensured that he always have three sets of those uniforms at any one time. There were three sets there when he arrived. He holds no other personal memorabilia of himself, except the curved sword given to him by his Master on the completion of his fifth task. He had expressly his desire to keep it that way.

Kassius removed his robe before he took out the tatters what was once his uniform. He had survived a grueling pursuit across the land and hills, with not a single wink of sleep for over a week. His pursuers were after his head after he has killed their leader in the sleeping chamber. It was a simple task to sneak in and administered the killing blow, but Kassius was discovered upon his escape. The alarm was raised and the guards came to apprehend him. He had fought and escaped but the pursuit was tedious. The pursuers had formed three groups to hunt him. During the pursuit, he had lost two horses and all his belongings but the pursuers had also lost a fair deal of men.

“Kassius, you are a lucky man.” The voice belonged to a lady; about his height but was build plain like a boy. She may not be most beautiful lady but her nature as a tomboy fascinated the other. She was dressed in the same plain tunic like the others. She helped Kassius to pull his tatter uniform off. The later cringed when he felt the fabric of his uniform opened up the older wounds.

“Kassius, you are a fool.” The lady muttered. She slowly peeled the vest and saw the lacerations on the back of Kassius. “Did you get caught?”

“No, Irina. I was dragged by the horse for some distance.” Kassius replied after he dropped the vest. He walked to the wash tub that was prepared for his return.

“Why Kassius? Why do you get all these difficult tasks? Even Marcus has rejected two of your tasks, but you just nodded like a fool.” The lady sighed. “You are not the best among them but you are darned lucky to alive today.”

Kassius ignored the other and lowered himself into the tub of water. It was his first bath after some days. He laid back and smiled. He believed what Irina said; he was one lucky bastard from the eight tasks that he had undertaken. It was within a time period of one year, given the risk they undertook as assassins. The experienced one retired after the ninth escapes from death, as they were all paranoia of pushing beyond the ninth attempt. He had taken all the difficult ones since he was commissioned into the ranks of assassin. Not all the commissioned ones made it past the fifth tasks on average.

“Kassius, let go of the next one.” Irina told him while she dabbed the cloth over the wounds but Kassius had fallen asleep. Irina continued on her ministration and then left the assassin to his rest. She loved the man so much but the she accepted the works of Kassius made him a different man.

A harder man to be in love with.

“God! I hate myself for loving you.” Irina sighed. “But I can’t help it.”

Devils' Own Steam Punk Mystic Tale 1.2

1.2.

Lord Tannen dressed in his night woolen gown, sat down the wine glass on the side table. He was in his personal chamber, where the section was decorated to house his collection of books and valued personal effects. The place was dimly lighted by the electric lights bulbs that were powered by the steam engine generator. The current flowed through the copper conduit wires that lined the walls and corridors. He had placed the lights well spaced out to ensure the books shelves are highlighted. He took pride in those books; he started when he was younger, acquiring the volumes from auction or by illegal acquisitions. He spent his free time reading them. His favorite corner was the armchair, crafted from the cherry tree with the arm rest crafted from the ivory tasks he got from a friend. He was feeling thirsty and had taken a long drink. The movement of his mechanical hand was still erratic after the fine tuning by the technicians. It was never too tight or sensitive to his needs. He sat the glass too fast and caused the glass to shatter. He cursed at himself and then at the mechanical hand on his right wrist. The damned thing was to replace his real hand which was removed by the assassin. For that the handy work, he had made sure the assassin paid the price for the attempt. They caught the assassin and had him thrown into the hole for safe keeping.

“My Lord, perhaps you would like another drink?” Lord Tannen looked up at the mechanical contraption that served as his personal valet and guard. The contraption was designed to look like a human dressed like a butler but the obvious plates of metal could never replace the looks of real flesh seen on its exposed limbs. The contraption even holds a human expression with the dark shades for the brows and the thick upper lips look of the moustache.

“Wind up, you imbecile.” Lord Tannen cursed at the coal fed contraption, with its mechanical gears. The contraption commonly known to many as a tin man, but in this chamber, he had a name like a real butler. The tin man had no emotions recorded into its organization box inside its head. It was powered with the coal pieces which were fed through its left shoulder vent. The stove inside it would generate the heat to move the gears and joints of its limbs. As for its thinking process, it was the work of a set of mini gears and intricate pre-set commands inside its organization box which are activated by the pneumatic pressures on the different plates for it to function. One of the commands in this advanced model was the basic instruction to keep it own self working. The tin man could be self sufficient with its own assessment of the required heating element and held the command to stay immobile for certain periods of time.

After having spoiled his mood, Lord Tannen have resorted to self adjusting the levers on his wrist so that it would work properly. He had a set of tools there, and found difficulty working the tools over the small notches in the levers. He got irritated and tossed the tool across the room.

“Damn you, assassin!” Lord Tannen voiced out his anger at the figure that removed his right hand. He looked to the window and cursed. “I hoped you rot down there.”

It had been three months then, since the attempt on his life, but he found the assassin still prevailed there in the rot decayed hole. The assassin had crept in the night like then; with the full garbs of the dark shades that favors these killers. The assassin would have succeeded if not for the untimely intervention of the cranky wind up clock in his room. The sound woke him up and he saw the dark figure there. He shouted for his guards while reaching with his right hand for the hidden lever to activate the alarm. He got it activated but the assassin had targeted his right wrist with the flying dagger. The wound was deep and severed his arteries causing him later to lose the use of it.

The assassin was challenged by his personal guards which had charged in. The assassin took down three of the best he could hire before he attempted to escape by the window. The assassin made it to the window, but he had a slip of the luck. It was an unfortunate thing that the assassin had to miss his footing on the balcony edge and fell down to the ground below. The assassin was captured and tortured for days but he would not reveal his paymaster.

“James 324. I want a new glass.” Lord Tanned raised his voice but his tin-man was not responding. He turned to look at the tin man, but the metal contraption still stood there at the corner. It had its head hanging on the right shoulder, where spring locks are seen unhinged from its sockets. He was to shout when the right arm of the assassin from the rear went around his neck before it pulled back. His left hand reached for it, but he was powerless against the strong grip. He tried to move his right hand over it but the mechanical hand just would not respond. His legs reacted instinctively to the attack, kicking out on the flooring but there was little he could do. He felt the windpipe losing its supply of air, and vision was starting to darken. He soon felt his body giving up and his mind fleeting. He saw his ex wives; all smiling dressed in black.

And then nothing was felt in his body.

The assassin relaxed his lock on the neck and his right knee against the Lord’ spine move back. The task was delivered, albeit three months late. He stepped away and let the body slide to the floor. He walked to the side table and took the unfinished wine cask. He drank it all before he tossed the cask at the tin man. He then looked to the ceiling and smiled. He had disabled the thin wires that crisscrossed there and if tripped would have sounded the alarm in the chamber. They were expensive to install and these ones had an extra design. It had these transistors laced sensory board which made the wire when cut would set off the alarms too but the assassin had come in undetected from above. He knew how these sensory vibes works and also how to disable it. It was how he got in.

The assassin then saw his own reflection in the mirror. He looked bad and dirty with the unkempt hair and lice bitten body marks. He looked around and saw the doorway to the bath area. He went there and saw the rectangle bath tub embedded into the flooring. There was a toy duck floating there. He stepped in and lowered his body into the smoothing cold water. He stayed there for a while absorbing the pleasures before he moved to scrub the dirt off.

“Wash, Sir.” The assassin turned to look at the contraption which spoke out. It was a good metallic representation of the human lady maid, with the correct appendages that was polished to reflect the feminist qualities. The contraption reached down with the metallic arms to scrub the dirt off the body flesh.

Crusaders III: The New Age 1.12

2.2           The Horn call

The drive out of the fortress was different from the one which Geranium had taken before. Somehow words have gone out that the Crusaders would ride again; yet no fanfare or celebrations surpassed that event but solemn eyes with praying thoughts reached out to the pair who drove out. Sergei in the sixth wheeler and Geranium on her mounted twin wheeler. As they rode past the streets of the once famous city, they were touched by the people who stood by the side, giving them the silent salute.

"Sergei, who could had told them?" Geranium spoke into her comms unit on her helmet as she looked back to the bridge and the fortress beyond. They have left there without much fanfare and yet she felt that this was the mode that was adopted to wish them off.

"I doubt they need to be told, as the whole community," named so on the people who seek their refuge there by Father Mikhail, "had been waiting for this moment since the leader of the Faith had announced the revival of the Crusaders."

"So they think their prayers are answered when we carry out that task." Sergei completed his assessment of the reception they were having. "They truly believed in us on this task and we shall succeed."

Geranium swerved to avoid a barrier placed there by the Fortress Guardians; places of barricades that were there to prevent any attacks. As she passed it, she saw the four Guardians there standing at attention to her passing. She had ridden past here before and none had given her any salutes before until today.

"I guessed I am going to missed all of this." Geranium gunned up her engine as the machine picked up speed towards the direction of south. It was based on Sergei's request that they travelled south as that was going into the inner part of United Europe. He explained that the best place to pick up a trail was at the home of the prey.

Othello the Legatus Act 2 Part 1.17

Prologue 12

"Before my time, with two Chieftains before me, there was one who was the bravest of us all. He was named the Warrior as it befits his courage and skills. His real name was never said by many, but I knew it. He was my great father of the fathers'; Gessikrik. He led us then known as the Vandals to fight Rome. He was not alone, there were the Quadi and Sarmatians. We cannot leave out the Gauls who was openly in the rebellion then."

"We harassed the Romans the whole length of the river Danube, and over it to the foundations of your empire." The tribesman recalled the past. "Gessikrik would not settle for the invaders plaguing the land. He rounded up the others. There were some who were resistant."

"I remember the meeting of the tribal."

"Cartila son of Tartila." The young man looked to the large man who loomed over his head. He was still in his teens, and had been asked by his father to joined in the discussion. He had rode hard with the father and the others for over a week. The meeting was held in a valley guarded by the warriors, with scouts as far as the next hill to the river bend that ran through the valley. It was a half a day's ride to there but the tribesmen wanted it to be well guarded.

"Gessikrik, if you scared my successor, I would be battled you here now." Tartila stepped in to protect his son. The two leaders gave us other the stare me down and then hugged each other.

"Where have you since for over three winters?" Gessikrik asked his friend of over twenty years. They fought each other and with each other on others.

"You were getting along with Hilde..." Tartila told the other.

"Okay, but you were right. She was a lousy lay..." Gessikrik told his friend. They both laughed and then pulled themselves to the tribal meeting. It was seated by nine tribes, but at the conclusion, only five tribes remained seated. Gessikrik got them to swear on an oath that they would unite.

"To the Romans, we would had them know who ruled Gaul." They all cheered. It was recorded as the Marcomannic Wars. It was to take on over a decade, but the casualty of the war, was one Tartila. His son was to joined the main tribe of Gessikrik, who migrated to the western shores of the continent. Cartila grew part of his adult moving and fighting off the other Gaul tribes who had dispersed on the Roman conquest. Their new trail of migration also draw the others like the Saxon and Celtics who were there not to welcome the new people.

Gessikrik had a son. He was much younger and always tagged Cartila for attention. It was not easy for the other was only three years old, and in battle, he was shooed off with the women. Not that day, the tribe was overrun by the Roman legionnaires, but the young boy was missing. He was not found when they regrouped. Gessikrik was very upset that his son was missing. He sent out scouts to find his son but they came back empty handed.

"Are you telling me this belong to Gessikrik son?" Othello asked. "I bought this in a market at Rome. So whoever sold it may the one you seek."

"The son of Gessikrik hold one other mark. He had a scar on his left knee like yours."

Othello laughed. He told the other the scar was inflicted in an earlier war.

"You can deny but you cannot deny forever." Cartila replied. "The boy may be you. You are no Roman. The bones tell me that the prodigal son will return."

Othello had the leader put to death. 

Devils' Own Steam Punk Mystic Tale 1.1

 A Steampunk/Mystic Tale of Adventure

Book 1

Jimmy Loong

Apr 2014

Tales 1

Part 1

The assassin

1.1.

The call of the night was echoed by the owl, which had left it nesting for the hunt. When it landed, the bird of prey fluffed its feathers when it perched on the upper branch of the oak tree, while its eyes squint hard to find the elusive preys. It spied the mice which had also crawled out of its hiding to search for its daily nutrient. It was a scrawny one, but the owl was not waiting long for its first feed. It went swooping down with speed on its drawn back wings while the talons on its legs protrude out. It was to be a clean kill, but in reality, nothing works as planned. 

The owl descent was interrupted by the sudden upward movement of the ground when another predator struck at the mice. The serpent snatched the prey with its jaw and chomped on the mice’ neck. At that moment, the descending owl had to compensate for the new development. It made a sudden decision and used its talon to grab the serpent by the body and lifted it up. The serpent reacted to the new threat by releasing the mice. It lunged it jaw towards the predator that had grabbed its body, and laid its fang into it. The serpent found its fangs came into contact metallic and pulled back. It tried one more time on another surface, and faced the same surface. It then struggled against the talons but the Owl had sensed the movement. The bird then had increased its hold onto the serpent flesh until the talon tips tore into it.

Soon the owl landed on the top surface over a man made hole in the ground. It dropped its catch on the rough flooring below before it took flight to the skies again. The wounded serpent coiled up and poised it jaws to strike at any new threat.  It unfolded its fangs and used it sensory functions to detect the nearest threat. Once it determined the threat, it would lunge, bite and inject the venom before it folded back its fangs back again. All it will take is a fraction of a second. The human eye cannot follow the strike, it is so swift.

But the movement of the human limbs given its years of conditioning could rival that scaled clad creature by the mere fraction of timing. The extended hand grabbed the lunging serpent by its upper neck just below the jaws and had it slammed back onto the rough surface. The impact shattered the twin fangs in its jaw and crushed the bones to the upper soft tissue of the serpent facial before piercing the ossified braincase. The serpent did not registered any pain it its death, as the sensory glands had shut down by the impact on its brain. The serpent then had its head removed with the tearing of flesh and its main body hung high for the blood to be drunk by its killer. The assassin then peeled the scaled skin as if it was a simple wrap cover, to have its inner flesh consumed with relish. The dead serpent head was discarded to the far end of the manmade hole; adding to the decaying pile that was there. The rule of survival applied then; only the greater predator stayed alive while the preys are all dead or consumed.

The assassin licked at the palm of his hands, picking up the remains there before he pulled himself up. Despite his tall height, the metal grated cover over the hole was double his height for him to reach. He was not looking to reach it but studying the positions of the opening in between the grating. The metal rungs are rusty from the years of neglect and erosion by the elements, but it was still thick to hold a man’s weight. He then reached down to the flooring to pick up the discarded serpent skin. It was still coated with blood and felt smooth in his hands. He stretched it, and tested the tension. He walked towards the shadow corner and drew out the hasty entwined length that he had patiently constructed with the other creatures skins and innards that he deemed suitable. He heaved it in his hands it and then tied the skin from the serpent to the tip. With the skin he had attached a femur bone from a previous offering. He tossed it with the skills he had accumulated from his training. It slipped through on the second try, and then with a twist of his hand, it secured the length over it. He tested it resilience and reckoned he had one slim attempt to get up there. He pulled at it one more time and then leapt up with his body tensed for the climb. It took him a few seconds to make the climb before his fingers latched onto the metal grating. He let off his weight on the length to dangle himself with his fingers.

The assassin flexed his limbs and then pulled his lower body up to pushed his feet through. He was then holding on with his four limbs and made his way slowly to the metal grating gate. His right fingers reached for the latch that held the metal grating gate in place. He slowly moved the latch and then pushed up the grating. Once he had done that, he slowly pushed open the gate upwards, before he moved his right fingers over it. He found a solid hold and then moved his left hand to hold onto the opened grating. He slowly lowered his legs down and hung over the grating gate below. He took a deep intake of air and slowly flexed his biceps to raise himself up with the head to push at the gate. He soon had his vision leveled on the ground above, and paused at that. He did a quick scan on the ground and then exerted himself up. He leveled himself over with the elbows on the hard ground, before he took in his next breath of air. The assassin slowly pulled himself up and used his legs at the final push to get his body over. He stopped and waited for any shouts of alarm or the barking of the dogs, but none was heard.

“I am back.” The assassin smiled and then slipped off towards the dark looming building.

Crusaders III: The New Age 1.11

2.2           Sergio re-counts the adventures of the Crusaders.

The origin of the Crusades were a series that took place between 1095 and 1291, in which Western European nations engaged using the propaganda of religious expeditionary wars.

The first crusade was called by Pope Urban II of the Roman Catholic Faith, who was determined to restore Christian access to the holy places in and near Jerusalem. It was all due to the decisive defeat of the Byzantine army by Seljuk Turks at Manzikert in 1071. At the same time, the Norman conqueror Robert Guiscard's conquest of Byzantine territories added to the problems of the Byzantine Empire. Emperor Alexios of Byzantine sought the Pope for help; defeat the heathen by aligning the Christian nations against them. The Pope enlisted western leaders in the cause of taking back the Holy Land.

The first Crusaders comprised military units of Roman Catholics from all over Western Europe, but were a scattered army with different leadership. Several hundred thousand soldiers became Crusaders by taking vows the Pope granted them plenary indulgence. Their emblem was the cross — the term "crusade" is derived from the French term for taking up the cross. Many were from France and called themselves "Franks," which became the common term used by Muslims. After some early successes, the later crusades failed and the crusaders were defeated and forced to return home.

The term "crusade" is also used to describe religiously motivated campaigns that were conducted then against pagans, heretics, and peoples under the ban of excommunication for a mixture of religious, economic, and political reasons. It during that period, the Faith focused on the persecution of heresy in order to maintain unity of doctrine. During the eleventh and twelfth centuries there are few cases of witchcraft in England, and such accusations as were made appeared to have been brought before the ecclesiastical court. Soon the elements were in place for a witch hunt, and for the next century and a half fear of witches spread gradually throughout Europe.

As the hunt became widespread, with the mindset of many that all magic involved a pact with the Devil was evil. It leads to persecution with rash methods of torture and interrogation used to solicit confessions and in the list of accusations to which these "witches" confessed. It also then the rise of the Renaissance magic in the great humanists of the time that helped abet the rise of the craze. Even the Templar’s; once heroes of the Crusades were also tried as Devil-invoking heretics in 1305–14.

The craze took on new strength in the 15th century, the publication of the works of Heinrich Kramer, a member of the Dominican Order, Malleus Maleficarum (the 'Hammer against the Witches') soon became one of the most influential books used by secular witch-hunting courts. Persecution continued on with trials and varying numbers of executions from one period to the next. It was during the craze then, the concept of the Crusaders was re-enacted to bring in light to the darkness that prevailed then.

So it was to begin the first formation of the founders of the new Crusaders, Gerald Black and his companions. Ironically, one of the members; Gerald's squire was a half man creature, but his loyalty and reforming attitude deemed him worthy of the position. The four had travelled far and wide to quell the evil that was growing then. They fought off the evil Baal, Lucifer and many others too. Their success soon spurred on the growth of the Crusaders, but the times of the world have changed. The Faith may had held influence in the courts of Kings and Queen, but the leaders was also advised by many who may not see to the Faith as an ally at times. There it was, the Faith have placed the Crusaders under an oath of secrecy and to perform their task in the manner to protect the Faith and all Mankind.

It was a well defined objective then, as the Crusaders soon find themselves having an adversary that cannot be revealed to the world. Their adversaries were the result of the craze which had formed the calling of the opening of the gateway between good and evil. As more worshipers of the new craze increased, more evil was soon to cross over and created the chaos among mankind. The world was blessed then and now when the Crusaders were there to counter and defeat every new threat that tried to create chaos.

It was an ongoing battle until the turn of the 21^st Century, when the last descendants of the original Crusaders once again came to stop the evil from overcoming mankind. That last battle ended the war, or so it was assumed as nothing happened for a long time. Twenty five years of peace later had called for the disbanding of the Crusaders.

The peace reigned for another fifty years before the Faith was weakened not only in numbers but also in their followers. A new era of darkness soon prevailed when three great groups of nations declared war on each other. No sanity or reasoning prevailed over those leaders as they succumbed to the greed of evil. It was a war that devoured up a continent of its life resources to become wastelands where billions of life had perished.

The Faith may have been weakened but it was not destroyed as the learned and famed brothers placed aside all differences to study the current concern on mankind. They came to one conclusion; it could be the works of only one.

"The False Prophet has arrived while we were lazing in our vigilance. He had laid not only his foundation but build his house on our land. And he may not be alone. There could be an Eighth Prince involved."

The Leader of the Faith then announced to his peers.

"God would heed our prayers be it with our few in numbers, but as he would assist only those who would assist themselves. So be it, I am hereby reviving the Crusaders to restore the balance in this world."

Othello the Legatus Act 2 Part 1.16

"Oh, no more." Iago heard Cassio protesting to the Governor aides. Iago laughed and went into the verses of Catullus; the famous poet of Rome.

"Let us live, my Lesbia, let us love,

And all the words of the old, and so moral,

May they be worth less than nothing to us!

Sun may set, and suns may rise again;

But when our brief light has set...."

From Let's live and love; to Lesbia by Catullus.

"Wonderful ....words." Cassio tried to hold his balance.

"From our poet, Catullus." Iago replied.

"Sad Cassio, stop playing the fool, and let what you know leads you to ruin, end.

Once, bright days shone for you, when you came often drawn to the girl,

Loved as no other will be loved by you.

Then there were many pleasures with her, that you wished, and the girl not unwilling,

Truly the bright days shone for you."

Adapted from Advise to myself by Catullus.

"Are you referring to the Gaul girl? I never was her lover." Cassio shook his head.

"She had you loved more than any of us. She may be your Desdemona."

"Desdemona? No,no, she is not mine. She is Othello." Cassio looked to Iago. He reached for the goblet of wine by the table. "Let us drink to Othello."

"Let me tell you about your girl." Iago spoke up when the Pilus took the goblet. He had caught onto the wine and forgot his duty bound vows.

"Because my girl, who's left my arms, whom I loved as no other girl;s even been loved,

for whom so many great battles were fought, is there.

You, all the rich and the fortunate, love her, and, what's so shameful, its true, all the lesser ones,

one of the hairy ones, rabbit-faced offspring of Rome, Cassio."

Adapted from Free for All: to the Regulars and Egnatius by Catullus.

"I am not any rabbit." Cassio refused to be associated with the promiscuous animal."No, no. Stop it. With God's wishes, some of us would be loved and others discarded."

"I would be loved." Iago told him.

"I would be. I am his to loved." Cassio replied. With the words of God, he had realized he had another duty to perform; one that was equally as important as his vow to God. He had a Legion to command. Its his while his Legatus rest.

"Iago, we got to take on the guards." Cassio staggered on his feet. He dropped the goblet he was holding. He stepped over it, and walked towards Iago.

"Let us go now." Cassio told Iago. The later nodded but remained seated.

"You go on. I hear the far end of the dock needed careful watch." Iago told his Pilus. Cassio nodded and took his own exit from the tavern, while Iago shook his head.

"A Centurion that could not hold his drink. Don't be mistaken on him. He is a good legionnaire. He fought his share, but he lacks what we have as Centurion" Iago spoke out in a cynical tone. "Not deserving the rank he holds."

"Aye?" Lucius agreed.

"Do you know he fought well, but he had to drown his sorrow on the kills with the wine?" Iago made up the tale to defile the Pilus in the eye of the aides.

"Does the Legatus know? A man with a conscience of such would weigh on his command." Lucius replied. It was then Roderigo walked in as per his last advice by Iago; meet at the tavern late evening.

"Aye, he does not know. How could he when he had raised the other to be Pilus? An oversight, I guess." Iago spoke out to Lucius, while looking at the newly arrived person. He winked at Roderigo. It was his cue to work out the plan agreed with Roderigo. 

"Then its our duty to advice him. We are the aides of the Governor and this is his province. Here he rules like the Emperor when in Rome." Lucius tried to justify his earlier statement.

"You do, but give me even the position of the Governor." Iago got up and dragged himself towards Roderigo but the later had left.