DISCLAIMER: The Change will likely be restarted. The text below may eventually be moved into the workshop thread.[/i]

(Note to writers: I will give you information I feel is needed before starting this story. First off, I imagine this story to be a prequel to "Saga of the 3rd War", "The Shadows of Darkness" and "The Eternal War", but for reasons due to plot elements in those stories, this story will techically NOT be a prequel. It will be called the second war because the the first War can be considered the combination of the first two Wrold Wars, wince they were fairly close together and were interconnected in many ways.

This story will take place in OUR near future, which means the writers should aim to have a realistic feel to the story above all else. I do want this story to have science-fiction elements (this IS the future, however close) and fantasy elements (I will talk about this later) as well as a feel like the story was "directed" by an independant director (as oppose to Hollywood--to keep this story from being any more epic than it will lend itself to be).

The basic plot will be that in our near future, civilization as we know it is coming to an end due to many elements: rise in natural occurances/disasters/diseases, terrorist and other government actions, rise in magic. The untimate trigger will be of one particular terrorist that goes by the alias "[har", but other characters will add their part in how they particiapte in this fall of the world civilization. Again, I stress that the writers try to challange themselves (if they feel it is a challange) to be realistic: this means no tabloid news coming to life, no magic/fantasy elements dominating, no (old school)James Bond-style events. This does not mean you can't be creative, and I hope to show you how you can be.

As far as characters go, I will suggest that everyone use only two characters, one of your positive side of your government/society/culture/etc. and one of your negative side, NOT one good and one evil mind you. For instance, my characters will be the terrorist [har and an american politician, the terrorist having the negative side, but as you will find out, he is not what you might consider evil, and visa versa with the politician. And no, this isn't going to nessessarily be a current events story--hell, I'm the LAST person to ask about what's happening in the world. Your character can be anything from other terrorists to politicians in other countries to normal civilians--nearly anybody you can think of. If you'd like some help to get started though, I'll be happy to give you some more specific ideas.

I'll try to let everyone keep their own control over their characters and let them interact in the story as they wish, but you can only directly control your OWN characters (you can not make another major action for a character unless you talk with the writer of that character first~ and unless specified by the writer *I hope you don't all do this* dialogue from that character and actions that do not affect the character and/or help advance the story or your own character is not considered a major action), and NO POWERPLAYING! I will be trying to follow these things below to my best and personally allow others to use my characters as they wish.

1) Can only fully control your own characters
2) talk to the other writers for approval about their characters for major actions or as requested by the writer
3) no powerplaying

I really hope this doesn't discourage anybody from writing, because we never really did this in Saga of the 3rd War or The Shadows of Darkness and as far as I was concerned, there weren't too many times I would have wanted to do/mention the above things, and I would think that the above rules wouldn't apply often. I hope as many of you as you can will write for the prequel and/or the sequel that's up now (The Eternal War), and most importantly, have fun writing what you do (and if you get a kick out of it like I do, throw in some deep psychological stuff with it, hehe).

Oh, and about magic: this element should be the only fantasy element present in this story, and in very small doses. My suggestion is that magic should only developed in children (high school and college would be iffy areas) and that these children wouldn't really know they could wield magic. The magic should only be triggered by an artistic element (music, writing, pictures) and should relate to the character's personality if they can somewhat control it--otherwise if it's random, they shouldn't be able too. For instance, a student might be writing a story wherehis main character meets the girl of his dreams, and by chance that day, he meets her in real life, or a child might here some particular music that sets a strong emotion in them and therefore causes some (small) supernatural event. I try to keep this open to let everyone be creative if they wish to use magic, but keep the above in mind.

OK, enough about my rantings, please feel free to join in!)

*In the near future, our world continues as it has been. Violence in birth and death, governments fighting with themselves and others, and taxes. The United States of America is still the supreme power in the world. The Middle East is still in turmoil over the Holy Lands. Yet in a mall in Annapolis, the only thoughts floating are of having fun.*

*Sitting alone at a table in the middle of the food court and the crowd was a man in his early thirties. He looked like any other person there: his hair was blond and neatly parted on the side, his face was clean and presentable, but not charismatic, his body was fit, wearing jeans and a green shirt, his brown trenchcoat hung over his chair. He finished the last of his chineese dish before picking up his coat and a tray of drinks.*

*He pushed one of the straws inside a cup in the tray and tossed the tray into a nearby trashcan, the kind that say "Thank you" on them. He proceeded to stroll out of the mall and into his '87 gray Honda Accord. He had a plane to catch at BWI airport, and glancing at his watch, drove at a leisurely speed. Three hours later, news vans would be at the mall, covering the recent terrorist attack that occured when a large explosion was set off in the food court. But by then, he was already in his plane, ready to take off to Sarijevo.*
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*A passanger plane came down in an airport near Los Angelos, and the man inside was in a horrific state. The man wore a business suit with a red tie lossened, his black hair unkept, stubble creeping onto his face, and fat that had creeped along his stomach long ago. The man was returning from a business trip to D.C., where he attended the inaugration of the new president, aside other matters also. He was in a messy state though because his plane had been cancelled twice and now would be late to see his family.*

*He knew his wife and son would not expect anything more from him, but it still depressed him that he coudn't see his family as often as he wished to. When he had reached the airport, his wife was there to meet him at the gate.*

"How was it?" she asked in a disinterested tone.

"I'm just glad it's over," he exsaperated. "It seems that the public doesn't care about who's their president anymore, yet we always give these big ceremonies, and then it's at least four years of political complications and such. I sometimes think I should have been a real estate agent like my father."

"There there," she said, calming him down. "We can talk all about it when we get home, but for right now, I'd rather not here anything about it, OK?"

"Fine," he grumbled. The two of them stepped into their van and made their way to their house.

(NSP: I know this isn't the best of starts for a story, but I hope you all will step in and help build this story. I gave you the concept--be creative and original! And don't worry, my characters will develop as we go along.)

[This message has been edited by Gebohq (edited September 19, 2002).]

(NSP: I forgot that for an interactive story to gain writers, the story really needs to open with a situation where characters can introduce themselves. I hope this situation will be adequete. I also knew that my characters needed names, and I'll supply those now also)

*Having returned home from his business trip from D.C., Albert Jones stripped off his jacket and sank into his favorite chair that sat in front of the T.V. Picking up the remote as involuntary as a muscle reflex, he turned the T.V. on and began to flip teh channels. His wife, Lee, beginning to show the signs of age, stepped into the room.*

"So after being gone for two weeks, you're just going to sit there and watch the tube like some fat....lazy...bum?" Lee asked with a fustrated tone.

"Yes," he said with a tired voice. "And I'm not much in the mood for debating anymore, OK?"

"Albert..." his wife began with an angry tone. Albert knew she was serious too; she only called him by his full name when she was truely upset. So he stood up and glided over to her, holding his arms around her from behind.

"I'm sorry hon," he began. "I'm just worn out from my trip, that's all. I didn't mean to take it out on you..."

*In the background, the T.V. is on CNN. The reporter is located in Annapolis, and behind her, a mall surrounded by emergency personnel.*

"In Annapolis, Maryland, another terrorist strike fell upon the innocent people at the city mall," the reporter spoke. "At 2:13 PM today, a large explosion went off in the food court, killing 36 people and injuring 72 others. Investigators are still uncertain as to how this happened, but are certain that this is yet another threat from the terrorist who calls himself Char, or as some of his followers call him, Care. There have still been no evidence as to who this mysterious assailant might be, or what his intentions are except to drive his online campaign."

*On the T.V., a video of an online site with the title "[har: for humanity and against oppresion" on top. It scrolls down to show text with headers and noticable sections such as "What the officials don't want you to know" and "Members: 216,285". The female reporter's voice continues.*

"On the terrorist's website, he seems to declare that governments are in fact Big Brothers, and that offers people membership to quote "People of a New Era", a group that heralds the end of the world. F.B.I. attempted to locate the terrorist by tracing the site, but later found out that it was run by members that did not know the terrorist's location. So far, the terrorist has only bombed civilian areas such as malls and business centers. More news on the Char cult at eleven."

*The T.V. displays a news studio with two anchormen.*

"Thank you Jill," the one on the right said. "On other news, the newly inaugurated president plans to put into effect his own plan to stop the rising terrorism in the world at the summit meeting held by the power nations at London. Along with the increasing terrorist threat, the leaders of these nations plan to discuss the rising natural disasters around the world as well as peace talks in the Middle East..."

(NSP: If you haven't figured this out, the summit meeting is your senerio. It's a big thing--my two guys will obviously be involved, and so will many other people (for the other people, make a side plot They're always fun. Again, if anybody needs help starting off with a character, e-mail me.)

(Expect a post from me soon, perhaps within the day. Ideas are still formulating.)

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"The first to present his case seems right, till another comes forward and questions him." (Proverbs 18:17)

Gebohq, I'm VERY interested in this story, but I'm not sure what to do for a character. I think I'd like to make one character now and introduce another character on down the road. And I'm thinking of a high school senior who manifests some magic for a character - or would this be too old? E-mail me at AZandertheFirst@aol.com or reply here with your thoughts. Toodeloo!

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The metaphysical nature of this energy field commonly known as "the Force" is such that it is galactically pervasive, with the potential of becoming omnipervasive, or even modopotent.

NSP: Hey, is this gonna be some kinda story where the earth gets transformed into the Shadows of Darkness world? Because if it is, I have an idea for two characters. Let me know!

NSP: To HEF--yes, you're character sounds fine, but just remember that by that age, the imagination that's usually strong with children begin to dwindle, so just keep that in mind.

To Dark Lancer--yes, I do imagine this story to be how our world turns into the world in Saga of the 3rd War, The Shadows of Darkness and the Eternal War, but you do not need to know any of those stories, since this is quite before then, and the actual transformation will only begin to start at the end of this story. If you want to do any connections, go ahead, but be loose. I believe arbiter (creator of the character Kogi in The Shadows of Darkness) might make one of his characters an ancestor of Kogi. That type of thing is along the lines I was thinking about, that's all.

And yes, I'll put up a post soon enought o give [har an actual name Unless you all think it should be left a mystery for now, up to you all.

NSP: Let [har's name be a mystery.

[This message has been edited by Dark Lancer (edited December 28, 2001).]

(NSP: OK, I got one vote for msyerty man. And Dark lancer, those are kind of odd names for a real-world senerio, but the senerio ahs some possibility, so I'll jsut pretend they live in Iowa or something Just watch how you appraoch it, put your shoes in the kid's and the adult's. I'll wait a little bit for some others to post before going on (honestly b/c I'm not quite sure where to go. I'll just have to let the senerio make it's own plot, hehe)

I might join in this little story. I'll have to think of a character name. Is it all right if I have only one? I don't want to worry about keeping track of two. I'm thinking some sort of terrorist or the like.

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If at first you dont' succeed, lower your standards!
Visit my homepage.

Special Agent Johnathan Fipps eased his forty-year-old body into the easy chair of his small hotel room in Annapolis. It was four in the morning, and he was bone tired. He'd been up all day, working on the case of this lunatic terrorist, who called himself Char or some such nonsense. He'd known since he'd gotten the case files that he'd be up late, and that he'd be up late probably for the next week or so, until they caught this guy.

This 'Char' was dangerous, that he knew for certain. The Federal Bureau of Investigation doesn't just call you up in the middle of your relaxing vacation to tell you you've been assigned to another case, and that you've got to go immediately, since the previous man in charge has been killed in a terrorist bomb explosion, if the terrorist isn't a dangerous one. Especially if you're the best agent in the whole of the Counterterrorism Division.

John knew he shouldn't be here. He should be with his team, working to get inside the mind of the terrorist. In fact, he would be there now if he hadn't promised his wife before he'd left to get at least an hour of sleep a night, if only to keep his mental skills sharp. He recognised the logic in that, but logic could not overcome the overwhelming feeling that he should be out there, finding the bad guys and protecting the innocents and all that.

John went over the facts, as they had stood when he'd left, in his head. First, the explosion in the city mall that had killed John's predecesser. It had been a massive explosion, indicating that the terrorist or terrorists had access to both high-powered explosives and the knowledge to use them. Also, the bomb had been strategicly placed so as to affect the maximum amount of civilians. The terrorist was no ameteur. Lab reports from the explosion hadn't come back yet--or perhaps they had just as he'd left--but John suspected plastic explosives.

Then there was this website. It wasn't too unusual for a domestic terrorist like this Char to have a website, but usually those that did fell quickly, tracked down within hours via the web. This one was tricky. By using a group of individuals unassociated with the bombing to run the site, and communicating with them via an unknown method, he'd effectively stalled that branch of the investigation, for now. John reflected that he'd have to get a wiretap put into all the phones that this Char cult used.

John fell asleep in the chair, still thinking about the case.

(This Special Agent Johnathan Fipps is, obviously, one of my characters. Should lead to some interesting stuff. The hardest part will be keeping reader knowledge and character knowledge seperate. Anyhow, I should have my other guy up soon, if I have one. I don't really have many ideas for him.)

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"The first to present his case seems right, till another comes forward and questions him." (Proverbs 18:17)

(NSP: *in Mr. Burns style* Eeeeex-cellent. I like your character Krig, I'll definately have to work with you on plot details (mainly cuz he's after him--have to make it good and all), and if you wish to only have one character, that's prefectly fine, I just know that I like to have more I wanted to cut down on any possible confusion too, more than 2 would have been in my opinion. And I have to watch Channel 1 at our school too (though I dream of Jeannie ha sbeen playing for some reason...oh well, look how heart-struck I am, hehe). And as soon as I get some real concrete plot devices going, I'll post, but in the meantime, introduce/develop your own characters (whichever fits you).)

-Geb

(NSP: Sorry I will post a bunch of more story stuff soon, but I need my sleep. But I want to know Dark Lancer if you plan to intertwine magus in this story with teh horn of magus in The Eternal War? If so, that's be kind of neat...but remember! Realism! Try to compare it with it happening in your own town/city/whereever. What do you honestly think it would be like/the reactions that occured from it? Just keep those in mind, great start so far everyone. I hope I can keep it running like Saga, SoD and TEW

NSP: Great story, it's really shaping up well, I hope you lot can keep it going.
Oh, and Geb, I looked at the 15th page

(This is shaping up VERY nicely. I've been watching it, and I think it's time to add my element in. I'm particularly interested in the elements and confrontations that will occur at the summit, I know MY guy's going to be there! Anyway, moving on

The warehouse was dark, cold and bare, save a few forgotten crates scattered about and of course, the table in the large room's center. One man, in a tweed jacket and slacks, fidgeted with a suitcase on the tabletop nervously, throwing edgy looks at his other colleagues. One was smoking a cigar and going over a Xeroxed printout, while the other, in a dark suit, shifted his gaze from his assosciates, to the entry of the warehouse, back to the gold-handled briefcase, never missing a beat.

The nervous man's fists clenched and his knuckles turned white as the door creaked open, and barely audible footsteps echoed as their contact advanced on them.

He was quite tall, 6'2, with black heavy action boots, a matching trenchcoat that bulged slightly with foreign objects that the men did not wish to learn about, and an strange red scar on his face that stretched from the tip of his forehead, just below his dyed-white hair, down to his eyes, which were obstructed by sunglasses, to the tip of his cheek. Apart from that, he could be described as darkly handsome. He was powerfully built for his height, and was obviously in a career field that required hard physical work.

Without any prompting, he pulled up a hard iron chair, lounging back on it and gazing up at the three men before him.

"Good evening, gentlemen. My apologies for being late; you could say I got caught red-handed."

He offered his gloved hands up for inspection, which were drenched in somebody else's blood. With no apparent disgust, he removed the gloves and cast them carelessly into one of the corners of the warehouse, smiling at his "friends".

"One of my most loyal clients had a nasty situation on his hands...I was called in for some emergency work. You understand."

The nervous one forced a smile that appeared as a painful grimace. "Of course."

The man returned the smile. "Thank you. Now, I don't mean to offend you wonderful gentlemen, after being so very accomodating, but it is most likely I will be called soon to tie up more loose ends, so if you don't mind describing the terms of my contract..."

At this, the man with the cigar snorted, eyeing his guest off cynically.

"I knew he'd be like this, these mercenaries are all the same-"

"Excuse me."

The man rose a finger in protest.

"There must be a mistake here. This gentleman is mistaken; I am not a mercenary, nor am I a terrorist in any regard. I am a specialist, and I will be addressed as such."

Mr. Cigar brayed humourlessly. "Please! Everything about you screams 'bad spy movie'! For Christ's sake, you even have sunglasses on at four in the morning!"

The specialist turned his gaze to the man, his lips turning unexpectedly into a barely amused smile.

"Of course. I am being extremely rude. However, I must warn you; you may not prefer the alternative when you have seen it for yourself."

Mr. Cigar locked his gaze with him.

"You don't scare me with this raspy voice crap, you're a merc. A gun-for-hire. I can buy you and ten others like you on the street for a dime."

Nodding curtly, the man took his sunglasses off.

It wasn't the strange, faint gold colour of his irises that Mr. Cigar, first noticed. He would have, but he didn't have time to notice that, because no sooner did their gazes meet than a myriad of images burnt themselves into his retina permanently.

Images so horrible, so thoroughly sickening, that whenever the poor man opened his eyes again, he would only scream, clamping them shut as quickly as they had opened.

As soon as it happened, he roared involuntarily, holding his eyes shut with his hands and howling incomprehensibly.

"OHMYGOD OHMYGOD....IT'S AWFUL!"

"So I am told." The specialist stared, bemused, at the whimpering man on the cold warehouse floor for a few more moments, before reapplying his sunglasses-though they were more like a visor-and beaming at the two remaining men.

The blood had drained completely from the nervous man's face, and his throat was tight, holding back sobs; the other man hadn't even flinched, grasping the Xerox his unfortunate colleague possessed and thrusting it politely at the man, who skim-read it rapidly.

"Funny," he started, "I knew one of the better specialists would get the summit assignment, but I didn't think it would be me."

Mr. Nervous tried a smile again, failed and instead squeaked, "why?"

The specialist shrugged. "I guess I was expecting Jackal to get it, he's experienced with bombing diplomatic assemblies and such-"

"Your assignment has nothing to do with any bombing, Mr...?"

"The Agency I operate under gave me the callsign Nexus, you can call me that."

"Mr. Nexus. Yes, your assigment is much more, shall we say, interesting..."

"Really? Well, why don't you enlighten me, Mr...?"

"My name is not important."

"Fair enough."

With that, Nexus lounged back and listened to the governmental official...

I come and kill everyone, the end.

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Most things in life are relative. A main victim of relativity is time. Intelligence, on the other hand, is not.

Evil triumphs when good men do nothing-Nothingness is the root of all evil-Man by nature is nothing.--
-The Transitive Property taken philosophically.
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(NSP: First off, sorry *again* for not posting, but I only have 15 minutes before i have to go for tonight, and it's not enough for a good post (soon though, I have the ideas rollin', hehe). The only thing I ask though as you all are waiting (if you are) is that you send your basic plans for your characters to me (if you have any obviously), so I can better intergrate it into the storyline. I have one request in particular to The Last True Evil: You introduced a "specialist". First off, is he working for [har, because if he is, I definately need to talk to you, to keep you in the loop an dall as a writer. Also though, you mention his eyes have images? That obviously disturb people. Could you explain it further please? If it's something magical, I ask that you remove it, because as I explained earlier, magic is VERY rare, and has really only been seen in children, and I'd appreciate it if it was kept that way. I wouldn't have too much of a problem with teh age except this guy is obviously powerful (at his "specialist" job anywhos), and I'd rather him not wield that much more power. Thank you for all you guys helping this get started though, I promise I'll get it on the move. Still gotta reach that minimum of 10 pages like Saga and SoD hehe. Just kidding, we'll go with the flow.

Oh, and of course, and idiotic posts such as the last will be ignored .)

(NSP: Alright, I'm here, honestly. It's just that I've gotten a cold, so I don't really feel up to writing much. But first order of business, to the Highemp. I'm sorry, but unless you can give me good reason (and it honestly has to be earth-shattering good), I'm going to have to deny your second character. The first fact that he's in a secret base in the Sahara desert is very unbelievable, but teh biggest problem I had was that you dived into the unrealistic--a guy who seems to have the power of the cosmos at his hands (perhaps even stronger than Bazaal) and is ready to become the mad guy who takes over the world. As I explained before, I wanted this story to be REALISTIC, even if that meant restrictions on the fantasy element. At the least I wanted to be able to believe it could happen (some psuedo-scientific explination or hibble-jibble). And worse of all, your character is literally hanging on the edge of powerplaying, the biggest rule I want to excersise. Powerplaying almost stopped The Shadows of Darkness, and I don't want this story to become a contest of whose charaacter dominates what. I do encourage you to think of another character though: I have plenty of ideas (some I'm going to execute anyways, and if anybody really wants to write about the parts I introduce I'll let them), and I want to give some suggestions of my own for your former character if you don't mind (which I like btw). This isn't a bash on your writing or on your creativity, but this story has a direction I need to keep focused on. It's suppose to be the transition, teh change, from our "real" world intot he fantasy world we come to know in Saga and SoD (teh actual change won't occur until the conclusion though). I hope you understand.

*phew* Anywhos, since there's a few more details I have to work out with some people, I'm going to introduce a side story of mine. It's going to be short and mysterious for now, but trust me, it'll all be explained.)

*At Fort Meade, there was little commotion. The old fashioned buildings, long ignored to modern advances it would seem, stood more as monuments. Yet people still drove to these buildings, which still serve the same purpose as they did fifty years ago: to center the work of the National Security Agency under the U.S. government. How much longer it would continue to house this purpose was still uncertian. Still, its days were numbered.*

*Inside the NSA buildings, code crackers and breakers, spies and intelligence gatherers were all but pen pushers. With no countries having threatened the USA for so long, it seemed pointless to have an agency which not only had been doing jobs that other agencies could cover, but obselete as well. Almost anybody who used a computer could break a code that NSA made, and with lack of funding, trying to make codes that would be secure was near impossible.*

*The National Security Agency began to loose funding soon after the fall of the Soviet Union, the country that America really need the agency for in the first place. The agency had lived on though because the United States at the time was in economic prosperity, much as it had been in the early 1920's. History tends to repeat itself, and as did in 1929, America after the new millenium fell into a second Great Depression.*

*The programs that were put in place after the first depression, programs based more on theory than anything, failed to keep America from continuing in prosperity. However, it did keep America from plummiting to total economic chaos. The people of America couldn't handle their new, meager lifestyle though, and demanded that the government should do something about it. So the government did. Taxes were lowered to an insane level, which was the main change out of many. Funding to federal building and public education took the biggest hits, as well as the National Security Agency, which they decided had outlived its contract.*

*Down in the deep underground, however, funding from other sources continued to hold together what NSA had left of it's objective: to protect the nation against the new threats of terrorism and unexplained phenomenon. Soon, with their vast computing efforts, they would have the ultimate weapons against IW (information warfare) and the newer PW (paranormal warfare), which most people still didn't take seriously. Soon, soon...*

Gebohq, okay, so maybe a base in the Sahara is not realistic, but it was the first place I could think of. Maybe the Himalayas, instead? And this guy, Atal Ghul, has no magic power. He's not really a "god", he just thinks he is. He's basically another terrorist who thinks he can lead the world to the "light". I was thinking that he is going to try to assassinate key world leaders at the summit (not personally, but through one of his top agents). I don't see anything wrong with Atal Ghul. Please tell me if you still think there is, and in what way, so I may rectify that. I really would like to use him.

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All creation reveals the common theme of the glory and truth of God.
High Citadel - Visit it!

Gebohq, okay, so maybe a base in the Sahara is not realistic, but it was the first place I could think of. Maybe the Himalayas, instead? And this guy, Atal Ghul, has no magic power. He's not really a "god", he just thinks he is. He's basically another terrorist who thinks he can lead the world to the "light". I was thinking that he is going to try to assassinate key world leaders at the summit (not personally, but through one of his top agents). I don't see anything wrong with Atal Ghul. Please tell me if you still think there is, and in what way, so I may rectify that. I really would like to use him.

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All creation reveals the common theme of the glory and truth of God.
High Citadel - Visit it!

Johnathan Fipps ducked under the yellow tape that was strung from tree to fence to streetlight all around the Capital Plaza Mall. News of the bombing had spread the previous night, and today there were quite a few onlookers and observers, reveling vicariously in the destruction. Since the destruction was visible from the outside however, for the most part, most of the watchers had left long ago.

As John opened the side door leading directly to the mostly destroyed food court, he was greeted by Special Agent Jason Danby, a young man fresh out of training. He was carrying a clipboard stuffed with papers, and looked rather rumpled. John surmised that he'd not gotten much sleep the night previous either.

"Agent Fipps, there you are. We've had some rather interesting revelations while you've been gone." He pushed his wire-rimmed glasses into place as he rustled through his papers, turning to follow Fipps as he continued walking.

"Any word yet on the make of the bomb?"

"Uh, no, the lab guys are working on that right now. What we do have are the surveillance tapes of the food court, which the mall people graciously donated to us. We haven't had a chance to look at it yet, and we figured you'd want to be there."

"You were right. Where is it?"

"Agent Ellis is getting it set up in the van."

"Good." John rubbed a hand over his cheeks, and found a patch of stubble he'd missed in his hasty departure from the hotel room, after finding that he'd overslept by a couple hours. "Anything else?"

"Uh, we've got a couple of survivors, but they're still in the hospital right now. We've set up surveillance on all the known members of the Char cult or whatever it is, but so far none have them have moved at all. And we've warned all mall and large business owners to increase security in the tri-state area. We're also monitoring all airports for a hundred miles, but we don't really know what we're looking for."

"All right, it's a start." John climbed into the open back doors of the FBI van that sat near the main entrance of the mall. Inside, two members of his team sat at computers. Agent Eric Ellis was the team's resident computer guy, so he spent most of his time in the van. Agent Sasha Hendricks was probably the best evidence gatherer on the team, with a sharp eye for anything out of place. Jason, the least experienced of the group, functioned mostly as a gofer, carrying messages and doing odd little jobs. The other two agents on the case were Agents William Jenson and Bob Olson, both of whom were not present.

John walked up behind Agent Ellis, and looked at the screen. "What have you got for me?"

Ellis, a thirty-something man with dark black hair, turned and pressed a button on a nearby device. Instantly, the computer's desktop was replaced by the shaky images of a mall security camera.

"I guess we'll see now..." Ellis said, watching the screen.


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"The first to present his case seems right, till another comes forward and questions him." (Proverbs 18:17)

(NSP; I'm really sorry guys, but I've been sick for a few days, and my mind is just on the limit as it is with everything else. I REALLY hope this doesn't discourage you guys from sticking around. I know I haven't started this story off with a bang, and to be honest, I wasn't ever one to write a lot of posts real quick (Merlin use to be good at doing that--he had this many posts on the first day SoD was up, hehe). But I do want this to bea good story, and fun to write for (and fun to read), so while I'm sick (cough, hack, wheeze, hehe), tell your friends about this story, and even if they don't want to write, tell them to at least check it out and read it if they can. Thanks, and I hope I'll get better soon so I can start writing again.)

~Geb

Grant Mulroney sidled down the dim alleyway. Now that he worked for the elite terrorist [har, he had to watch out for anyone. He would never be truly safe again.

He fumbled with the keys when he reached the large door; it always took him over two minutes just to get the damned thing open! Casually, he pushed the door open, fumbling for the light switch, turning it on-

To stare down the barrel of a gun. A BIG gun.

A thousand thoughts raced through Mulroney's brain; he could run back out of the door, screaming for help, or maybe he could stealthily reach for the small Beretta strapped to his thigh-

But, as much as these ideas might work, Mulroney could only stare, rooted to the spot by what appeared to be a specially modified larger-caliber Desert Eagle pointed at his forehead. Behind the gun, a man with white hair and-sunglasses?-smiled welcomingly at him.

"Good evening, Mr. Mulroney. I hope you don't mind-I let myself in."

Mulroney's groceries dropped to the floor almost silently-the thin, neurotic man tried not to whimper.

"I-you-what do you want?"

This seemed to amuse the stanger, and he laughed. It wasn't a pleasant laugh, more a throaty rasp. Grant resisted a shudder.

"A great many things, Mr. Mulroney-or can I call you Grant?- Such as world peace, or maybe a lovely family, with 3.5 kids and a lovely little house with a white picket fence."

The man grabbed Grant with his free hand-he was so fast!-and drew him close to his own face.

"But perhaps a more obvious, and accurate question, would be...'What do I want from you?'"

Mulroney sputtered; his arms flapped pathetically next to his sides.

"I'll give you anything! Please! Take my God-damn stereo system! My car! Anything!"

"I don't WANT your suburban trash, Grant."

The man drew his face even closer to his face, and Grant could barely see beyond his glasses into his eyes. They weren't normal eyes. Something swirled inside them.

Something of pure evil.

Something that Grant didn't want to discover firsthand.

"What do you-"

"In a word? [har."

Grant's eyes widened.

"I don't-"

"SHUT UP!"

The man's eyes changed again, it was almost like they were alive...

"I want you to organise a meeting with [har for me, or I promise you, you will never open your eyes ever again...do you understand?"

Grant sobbed, uncontrollably.

"DO YOU?"

"Yes...I'll do it."

His voice was pathetic, that of a beaten wife or servant. Disgusted, Nexus tossed him aside, walking out.

"Cute place."

( Hey, guys. It's arbiter. I had to switch names. So, here are my characters for The Change)

Shinichiro Hona

Mid 30s Japanese American who feels that politicians do what they do despite the wishes of the Average citizen. Has experience as an Army sniper. (Possibly the great forefather of Kogi). More moderate than Kogi, and more willing to bend his code of honor. He joined the Army at eighteen, then quit at 24 because he assaulted a commander who ordered to fire into a crowd. He didn't punch him so much because of the risk–the character can be confident to a fault in his abilities–but because he didn't believe he could drill one exactly in the forehead of the target and the commander gave him a slap on the wrist for not eliminating the target quickly enough. After being dishonorably discharged from the Army, he wanted to go into the Air Force (he figured that a little flying experience would come in handy) but the recruiter saw what he did in the Army and said no. After tooling around a little bit, he got a job as an inventory manager at Petsmart. He really hates his job, and he hates pets even more. He feels that his innumerable skill is better spent elsewhere.

Jessica Ploury

21. A neurochemist with NIH. A semi-prodigy, she shaved a year off of high school and 2 off of her biochemistry degree. She is jealous of those full-blown prodigies. She pushes herself hard to try become one of them. She is experimenting with neurochemicals and what they can do.

Shinichiro cracked his knuckles. His manager was yelling something at him, but he had tuned it out.

"Pardon me?" he said

"I said, get your fat lazy *** over to the forklift and bring that Purina to the floor!" the manager said.

Shinichiro took it in stride. The Army had tought him to take **** from people over him. He stored that little insult away for use later. His fist flexed, unflexed. He strode over to the forklift, and stepped on the gas pedal. The big thing bolted forward. It had a top speed of about 10 miles an hour, and Shinichiro made sure he got it redlining every time he was ordered to use it.I hate my job. I wish I still had my Steyr rifle. I wonder if I have enough money in the bank to buy one. A Steyr, a couple of those overly cute stuffed animals and a rifle range. That's all I require. He palmed the wheel, making the 'lift take a sharp turn towards the loading dock. Shinichiro promised himself he would buy a Steyr soon. Very soon.
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Jessica Ploury flashed her ID to the fat man behind the security desk. She was absolutely repulsed by his girth. His shirt was too tight in some places and too lax in some others. The bile rose in her throat and she quickened her step. She had work to do. Her newest project was special. She was working on a certain neurotoxin that would cause a beserk rage. The top armed forces had particular interest in her pet. She had no intention of letting them down.

(NSP: Yeah, Arbi's in the story now. Something small, until I can get moving with the bigger posts again..)

*As holding the office of assistant Deputy Securtary of State, Albert Smith was required to move to a place near Washington D.C. This also meant moving his family from their home in California, a place where he and his wife had lived for almost twenty years. He was not excatly joyous at having to move, but he knew his son, a senior in high school now, would take it harder. Albert only wished that he could take the pain away from his son; it wasn't fair to his son to live with a politician.*

*Albert could only hope that his son would understand, and that his wife could cope with being married to a politician. It would only be a few more years until retirement, he thought. He would make it all up to his family then. Until the end of the new president's term though, that time would not come for him or his family.*

(NSP: I have a few questions which you guys can e-mail, post, or whatever. I need to knwo first off if your primary character Highemp, can be attending teh same school as the politician's son? Also, I need to know what the terrorist's plan for [har would be if he got teh arrangement to meet him (e-mail is perfectly fine to answer this one). Stay tuned, hehe)

~Geb

Well, Geb, I stated in my first post that David lived in Boonesville, Virginia, but I guess we could change that to Washington, D.C. Only problem is, I made up Boonesville, so I could do whatever I want with it, but I don't know all that much about D.C. But yeah, I'm fine with it, if you are.

Also, if Atal Ghul can meet [har, he'll probably try to get some information out of him, perhaps some resources, all the while planning to betray him. And what do you think about the whole Peacekeeper thing?

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All creation reveals the common theme of the glory and truth of God.
High Citadel - Visit it!

(NSP: Highemp, I didn't know your locale in Virginia was fictional. But it's in Virginia, and mroe importantly, it's fictional, so it can be anywhere in Virginia. Unless you havea ny objections, I'd like to make it Northern Virginia, close to D.C. (see my drift? hehe). And I'd like to maek my politician's son a guy in Highemp's class, who'llt alk to him sometimes (perhaps even be a friend? We can work that out. make this place a small world after all-type thing, hehe. As for TLTE, I've already talked to you about Nexus meeting [har. And would everyone want to stop writing until the story is moved/massassi settles problem, or continue and do what is needed when the day comes? I'll e-mail Highemp and TLTE about details involving the story, since I've talked to krig mostly about them already. I will post the part that will set the meeting up with [har and Nexus tomorrow (I need to find out what states are part of the Bible Belt area first hehe).

~Geb

(NSP: OK, you all get to voice your opinion. Which state should [har have been raised in, and should the name of the city be Jerhico, Fleming (after a dedication to a certain someone), or something else? Voice your thoughts. I'll try to get the post done as soon as I can.)

~Geb

(NSP: Just bumping this up. I can't post tonight, but I'll post soon, really.)

~Geb

[har should be raised in Utah, in some city called Jerhico. (By the way, if it's supposed to be spelled like the Bible city, then it should J-E-R-I-C-H-O. )

I anxiously await your email, Geb, and all the stuff about Albert's son is fine. But Boonesville is based on my hometown, though it is fictional, so please don't do anything major with it without my approval, ok? Thanks.

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Play epic RPGs such as Dark Exile, or duel in the Interdimensional Arena @ The High Citadel

NSP: Due to the recent news that the Massassi Temple site and everything associated with it has a slim-to-none chance that it will continue to be running after March 15, I am ready to move this story to another site. When the date approaches closer, within a few days before the close, it will be announced where we'll move this too. I hope you all continue to write, as this story has the potential to be very good.

~Geb

(NSP: Sorry to be so long, but here it is. I'll e-mail you all the stuff to you guys about the nitty-gritty things. And no prob about not talking about the town too much -I'll leave that stuff to you, I just wanted it close to D.C. Just out of curiosity *if you don't want to, that's cool*, would you have any objections to calling Boonsville "Fleming" instead? On with ze post! *and sorry, no Utah--he's not Mormon hehe)

*It had been a couple weeks now since the mall bombing in Annapolis. News channels continued to cover the incident, however, in nearly every single aspect one could think of. Perhaps the executives of these news channels thought that it had been a tragic incident, and that the event should not be thrown aside without thought to the casulities taken. The fact that there hadn't been any notable scandels or other violent incidents might have also been the case.*

*The man who had planted the bomb in that particular incident was currently at a family reunion in Jericho, Alabama, his hometown. Everybody he knew, and a few he swear he would never know, was there at his Aunt Ruth's house. At the moment, he was sitting between Aunt Ruth and a cousin of his he couldn't remember, dressed in his Sunday best. He was eating his corn on the cob and potato salad, but mostly paying attention to Aunt Ruth talking. He thought how happy he was, surrounded by his family on such a beautiful day.*

"You know, hun," Aunt Ruth began talking to him, "it's so nice that you were able to stop by. Frank thought you'd miss the annual reunion again, didn't cha Frank?"

"Well he did miss the last one," Frank said. Frank was married to Aunt Ruth since right before he graduated from West Point. And that was a lot of years between then and now.*

"Oh now Frank, you can't hold that against him!" Aunt Ruth replied. "His business is very pressing." She changed her tone of voice to a more disapproval one as she continued. "You know," as she began to talk to the man known over the Internet as [har, "You should be careful on those long trips of yours. With those aweful men bombing things left and right. Those terrorists, they just seem to do whatever they want, with no morals or thought to life. I hope God delivers justice and teach those men a thing or two!--"

*The ringing of a cellphone interrupted Aunt Ruth's train-of thought, and she looked at [har, and frowned. [har returned the face with empathy, and excused himself, walking inside the house, where nobody was before answering his cellphone.*

"Sir," the voice on the other end started. "An associate who goes by the alias Nexus wishes to meet you. Should I send one of our doubles?"

"Nexus?" [har asked in disbelief. He had remembered what he was told and what he knew about the man. Right now, he realized, he would really need to meet with this man, however dangerous. Personally. "Meet me at the Alaska station in 48 hours." [har proptly hung up.

*He knew leaving now would upset his family, especially Aunt Ruth, who raised him before his adolesent years. It was another mark, he knew, that God would make against him. His mission was too important though. He had to go on.*

(NSP: I know it was kind of awkward not mentioning [har's real name in this post, but I wanted to keep the suspense going a tad longer.)

~Geb

Gebohq, Dark Lancer told me that you're going to be helping him with ideas for his characters in "The Change (The Second War)". Bear in mind, however, that I will be using Dark Lancer's characters in my novel as well - he has given me permission to do so.

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Play epic RPGs such as Dark Exile, or duel in the Interdimensional Arena @ The High Citadel

*BUMP*

Benevolent Upward Mobility Post

Come on, people, this story has great potential!

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Play epic RPGs such as Dark Exile, or duel in the Interdimensional Arena @ The High Citadel

(NSP: Hey again. I'm sorry to keep pushing this back like this, but a lot of things have kept me from giving this story the dedication, the energy, and the level of quality that it should have. So unless you all object (IOW, want to write while I'm not), I'm going to put this on hold until the summer, when all my graduation stuff is over with and I'll have loads of free time (and by then I figure I'll have talked to SOMEONE about getting the ICQ files I need to read opened hehe. Thanks for all your patience, and hope you'll all stick around. I believe this story has potential as well.)

~Geb

Uh, how long until the American Summer?

(NSP: My bad, I fergot not everyone's in hte northern Hemisphere. It's the end of April for me right now, and I consider the end of May/beginning of June to be the start of my summer. I might do a few things before then, but no major posting, that's the idea. That's what I'll be able to do anywhos. Hope it's all OK for you.)

~Geb

(I'll go along with that. I really want this story to turn out well, and we can't do that if we're distracted or not really into it.)

(NSP: I just thought it'd be relevant to note that on this date, Tuesday September 11 2001, several commercial planes were highjacked and crashed into the Pentagon, the World Trade Centers (now collapsed) and an area in Pennsylvania. Hard proof that terrorism is a real, serious threat. Assymetrical warfare is something the U.S. government, as well as others around the world, will have to deal with now, before it becomes worse, and possibly involve chemical weapons. My prayers to the victims.)

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~Geb