DISCLAIMER: This is not official. This is a fan-made custom project.
VC brings you Fiction Release 1, otherwise known as:
Volume 1
Scoundrels and Savages
Cal the Smuggler Character Bio
Sector Seven. Probably one of the most dangerous areas of Arctorus, and that was saying a lot. Rich with minerals, luxurious animal pelts, and the only known source of Stardust. All of these things difficult to obtain, in high demand, and in the case of Stardust, very, very illegal.
The main settlement in Sector Seven—Boone’s Gulch. A sprawling shantytown, populated with the shadiest spacers this side of the Gala Nexus. Sec-7 Authority is underfunded, corrupt, and inept, but that didn’t stop the five Sec-7 officers from stalking the series of haphazard buildings, hunting for the spacer known as Cal.
Cal adjusted the bundle of Stardust under his poncho. He checked the device on his wrist—just over a minute. He grimaced from his hiding place under a set of stairs, putting out his cigarette so the ember didn’t give him away in the shadow.
“Hey!”
He didn’t wait to see who had said it. It had the misplaced authority of the Law, and that made Cal dive out of the alley, blaster in hand. He caught his balance, poncho whipping behind him as he made a break for it, down a wooden gangplank that served as a connection between buildings. Thirty seconds. Through someone’s residence, passing by screams and shouts and clumsy laser-fire. Down the rickety metal roof, sliding on his backside until he got to the end, jumping over the edge and down onto the street. He checked the device.
A gleam of blaster-metal. Cal reacted, raising his own, his eye tracing the blue uniform of the Sec-7 officer. He fired. The officer recoiled before he could get his own shot off. Three seconds. Another officer appeared, but by then it was too late. The device on his wrist sounded an alarm, and he pushed the button. In a flash of light, he was gone.
Locksley Character Bio
Locksley let go of the window’s sill and dropped, gracefully, twenty feet to the dirt path below Lord Worthington’s window. He shifted the sack of gold from his shoulder to the harness at his belt, under his cape, and he smiled, eyes twinkling in the moonlight.
Little John followed soon after, his large fists clutching two sacks of his own. “We need to get this to the people quickly,” Locksley said to his broad-shouldered companion. “The Sheriff will soon be hunting for it.”
They soon stepped quietly from the keep’s outer gardens and entered town, on their way back toward the forest. They were interrupted when, as they passed through the flickering lantern light outside the tavern, the door to the establishment flew open and a half-dozen armed men rushed out.
They were led by a bearded, pink-faced man in a red tunic that might, ten years earlier, have fit him and been clean, but excess food and ale had compromised both qualities beyond hope of salvation.
“Sheriff! How are you this fine night?” Locksley called. The pink-faced man snarled.
“Locksley!” he spat.
“Ah, you’ve mastered basic speech; your studies have paid off. Sorry I can’t stay and chat, but I must be going. You know, places to be, people to rob.”
The Sheriff roared and charged, drawing his sword. Locksley turned and sped off into the woods, John in tow.
The pair of rogues twisted through the forest with ease. Hastily fired arrows flew wide of the retreating figures and lodged themselves in tree trunks. The Sheriff and his men were soon slowed by the briars. Just as escape seemed certain, a dozen armed men sprang from the underbrush. Locksley came to an abrupt halt, glancing around for an opening, but they were surrounded.
“You see, Locksley, I’ve learned all your tricks,” the Sheriff called from behind him, panting. The Sheriff held the point of his sword dangerously close to Locksley’s neck.
Locksley turned to face him. “The thing is . . .” he said, advancing on the Sheriff, “I’ve always got a new one.”
Quick as lightning, Locksley drew his sword and swatted the Sheriff’s blade out of his slack grip, then half-somersaulted and kicked the Sheriff backwards into a tree. Locksley landed upright with bow in hand and an arrow drawn. He loosed it, pinning the cloaks of two men to a tree.
“Not this time Locksley!” The Sheriff’s sharp cry surprised the outlaw, causing him to spin in his tracks. The Sheriff had recovered quickly and stood with bow taut, the arrow pointed at Locksley’s heart. He loosed the arrow and it whistled through the air.
A single thought ran through Locksley’s mind: “Why, out of the hundreds of would-be murderers, did it have to be the Sheriff?” Then the arrow landed with a thunk, buried deep into the tree which Locksley had stood in front of but a moment before.
Tetraites Character Bio
Tetraites was a renowned gladiator in Rome, celebrated for his brutality and skill in the Coliseum. His fame grew so rapidly that Caesar himself would often attend his matches. Tetraites, however, cared little for the approval of Caesar, his ego satisfied instead by the mixture of respect and fear that filled the eyes of his doomed rivals. Time and time again, Caesar would gesture for Tetraites to spare his opponent when they were at his mercy, but Tetraites’ ruthless nature would not be restrained. Spurred on by the roar of the crowd, Tetraites deliberately ignored Caesar’s signal, finishing his opponent with a single skull-crushing blow from his mighty hammer.
Reluctant to lose the entertainment of his favorite gladiator, for some time Caesar was willing to overlook Tetraites’ defiance. But the emperor’s favor is a fickle thing, and eventually Caesar could no longer suffer such flagrant contempt for his authority to continue. Following yet another of Tetraites’ merciless executions, Caesar called for Tetraites’ head, and the gladiator’s sudden rise to fame was about to be cut short. But it was at this moment that Utgar summoned him to Valhalla, where Tetraites would once again find glory in Taelord’s Coliseum. In this strange new land, the vicious gladiator is eager to spill the blood of not just man but elf, dwarf, beast, and giant alike. His name will be known, his name will be feared, his name is Tetraites.
Zombie Hulk Character Bio
The beast is hungry. Over the ridge, there is warm meat it could eat. Little ones move toward the meat and some fall down when loud cracks ring out and smoke rises from the metal sticks the meat are holding. But there are too many of the little ones; there won’t be enough meat to feed them all. Saliva drools out of the beast’s rotting mouth. It doesn’t want the little ones to eat the meat. It wants to eat the meat itself. The beast begins to lumber toward the ridge, and two other hulking brutes follow as well.
“Not yet, Halgo. Wait.” The Master raises a hand and reproaches the beast. It must obey. All three of them must. There was no “why.” It was still hungry, but it would stay.
Over the ridge, the beast could see movement. The small meat with metal sticks start to run away, and one big meat comes forward, towering over the little ones and slicing them apart before they can finish eating the small meat.
“Now, Halgo” the pale-faced one motions toward the ridge. “The big meat is yours. Go eat.”
With a guttural roar, the beast approaches the ridge, eager to feed. The big meat was his. As it gets closer to the feast, the beast can see the big meat more clearly. It holds a large metal stick, swinging wildly to cut down the little ones all around it. The big meat was his.
Suddenly, the beast feels something other than hunger. A shred of recognition, something like the shadow of a memory clawing at the edges of his thoughts. For the first time in many years, the beast remembers something from Before. In his memory, this meat was calling to him, but Halgo couldn’t help. Fear. Despair. Regret. The beast stops as long-forgotten emotions flood its mind.
The big meat was his… it was his flesh… his… brother.
Halgo lets out an anguished cry and once more rushes toward the giant, surging ahead of the other two lumbering beasts. It needed to reach the big meat first. The big meat was his! Wading through the carnage, Halgo can smell the salty-sweet blood of freshly fallen meat surrounding him. All at once the overwhelming hunger returns, and the memories start to fade back into oblivion.
The big meat sees the beast approaching and raises his metal stick. But then it stops, its eyes going wide. “Halgo? No… no, it can’t be!”
The big meat was calling to him.
The big meat belonged to him.
A little one manages to pierce the big meat’s flesh, and a thick red droplet runs down the big meat’s leg.
The big meat was filled with his blood.
The beast is hungry.
The big meat was his.
The C3V Fiction Team would like to thank Pumpkin_King , Sir Heroscape , TenWorlds , and Viegon for their contributions to this release.
Greetings ‘Scapers! Our recent survey results indicated that a good many of you are very interested in the lore behind the VC characters, and we’re excited to be providing more character bios for our past and future releases. Stay tuned for more bios and figure releases in the coming months.
Happy ‘Scaping,
Captain Stupendous
Valhalla Customs 