Coyotekid

This, so far, is my favorite screenshot I've been able to nab since starting my "super screenie" work. The hero is Ebon Blayde and I was working with him to get a couple good character shots.

Fight!

I guess for me its the inconsistency or just blatant pettiness I've been hearing about. Sounds like a pretty ripe place to get attacked and then not have a way to defend yourself.

It IS really nice in a lot of ways. I'm just trying to decide if those things outweigh their administrative actions which sound pretty random.

I've heard alot of things like this regarding DA lately and it concerns me. Is there a good alternative art site to go to in this case?

When I worked as a photojournalist, I would spend a bit too much time on shots and layouts I REALLY liked. In that business, you don't have the luxury of hanging over a half page layout when there's a deadline. He gave me a phrase that I still use to this day...

"Call it art and move on."

That being said, it IS something that you have to learn on your own as to how much is too much. A trial and error thing that has to happen with you as an artist. Juggie's right too. Post some pieces and folks will be able to tell you if they are overworked.

Maybe try a piece with a self-given deadline? Give yourself a reasonable amount of time and then force yourself to be done at that point. It will help you learn to detach from the piece. (something I'm STILL learning )

Hey all,

I've started a little project involving screenshots over on Deviantart. My digital and line art is elsewhere these days but I'm enjoying taking artistic screenies and bumping them up a bit.

Have a look and let me know what you think!

Shuttershot Gallery

Thanks!

I've run a blog for over a few years now on virtual worlds and storytelling. Recently, I've reset and redesigned things a bit with a focus more on City of Heroes, storytelling, and roleplay.

This post is a start of a new character I launched this week. Take a look and, hopefully, enjoy!

Frontier's Horizon

Have a great holiday weekend!

Coyote Kid looked down at his commlink as the Star Strider message came through.

"Well, I'm always up for taking out a few Rikti."

Name: Coyote Kid
Global Contact: @coyotekid
Level of Classification: 34 Scrapper
Origin: Natural
Super Rank & Super Group: Grand Poobah, Misfit Club

"Not sure I ever want to be called a Star Strider though..."

************************

Tashina Blackwatch knocked lightly on Captain Buchanan's cabin door. "Did you see the message?"

Captain Buchanan sat behind the ornate silverleaf wood desk working with a crystal powered device. "I did. I was just about to join the ranks. You interested?"

Tashina nodded, "I am. The others of the crew are too, Sir."

Rusty Buchanan nodded and gave a grin, "Very well, I'll add them on. Have them suit up and we'll go get us some Rikti"

Name: Rusty Buchanan
Global Contact: @coyotekid
Level of Classification: 28/10 Defender/scrapper
Origin: Magic
Super Rank & Super Group: Captain, Renaissance Explorations

Name: Tashina Blackwatch
Global Contact: @coyotekid
Level of Classification: 12 Defender
Origin: Technology: Magic
Super Rank & Super Group: Commander, Scout Unit and Fey Relations, Renaissance Explorations

Name: Diddle-Ki
Global Contact: @coyotekid
Level of Classification: 18 Blaster
Origin: Magic
Super Rank & Super Group: First Mate, Renaissance Explorations

************************

Joshua sat on the roof of his skyscraper apartment in Steel Canyon. Since the magical shard he used to carry had completely absorbed into his being, there had been many many changes. A troll no longer, he had become something else. Part human, part troll, and part.... alien? He had gone into seclusion for a long time during the process, staying near his apartment, helping only the trouble came to him.

But now, a disturbing sense of a coming battle, a storm, had fallen over him again just before receiving the message on his dusty commlink. Perhaps it was time to step forward again? Perhaps it was time to be a hero again?

He reached for the commlink and after another brief moment of thought, entered the information.

Name: Joshua Caine
Global Contact: @coyotekid
Level of Classification: 32 Blaster
Origin: Magic
Super Rank & Super Group: No Affiliation. Independant.

The Coyote Kid and The Council
or
Old Times

The Council thug got out something that sounded like, “Whatha-,” before Coyote Kid punched him in the face with hilt of his katana. As the thug stumbled backwards into the evening shadows outside the warehouse, Kid kicked him in the stomach for good measure. From then on, it was simple to knock him out.

Kid dusted his leather gloved hands absently after pulling the soldier out of the way and picked up his katana. So far, so good he thought to himself. The operation needed to go down nice and quiet.

The night erupted into an explosion of gunfire and the packing crate next to him blew apart in a cloud of splinters. Reflexes took over and he lept to the side as bullets tore into the pavement and warehouse wall where he had been standing. Rolling to his feet, he took off running down the narrow space between stacked storage crates and the warehouse building. Behind him, the automatic gunfire continued, splinters buzzed around him, and a small impact grenade went off rocking the air around him.

Sliding to a stop, he tried to grab a quick view of his surroundings. Behind him, he saw the silhouette of a soldier where he had just been standing raising a weapon to his shoulder. Without thinking, Coyote Kid ducked his head into his leather jacket and dove through an already half broken window of the warehouse. Behind him, gunfire ripped into the side of the building.

Bouncing off of another stack of warehouse crates, he eventually came to rest on a hard concrete floor surrounded by shards of glass and pieces of the destroyed window frame. This was not the way he had planned on entering the Council’s hidden facility but, well, it would have to do for now. He looked around himself quickly.

Four Council soldiers in their grey green uniforms and red night-sight goggles spun to face him. They seemed as confused about the situation as he was. Kid wasted no time taking advantage of that confusion as he brought his katana to bear. When it was over, he had a Council rifle, four grenades, and some extra clips of ammo. It was like Christmas.

The base alarm went off at that point and the gunman from outside opened up on him from the window. Kid tossed an impact grenade his way and took off for cover. Behind him, the window opening exploded from the grenade and a good chunk of the wall blew outward. Surprised at the severity of the explosion, Kid paused and looked at the grenades he still carried. Surprised to find that they were not the small impact grenades but M67 frags, he muttered, “Neat.”

He then pulled the pins and threw the remaining three in random directions around the warehouse.

As the triple explosions rocked the insides of the warehouse, he leapt to an industrial forklift and sped off in it for his original target located in the back office. The facility had fallen into disorder as one of the grenades had managed to ignite something flammable in the far corner of the warehouse. As he rolled along, several Council soldiers ran past him focused on the explosions and gunfire. He found this immensely funny. The second group of five were more alert and noticed immediately the intruder driving the forklift.

Coyote Kid aimed the careening forklift into them at full speed as bullets bounced off its metal frame. The forklift crashed into a stack of crates which wobbled menacingly. Leaping from the forklift, he kicked one of the Council into unconsciousness which added to the thug’s inability to move away as the six crates toppled onto the group. A final member of the group, as spry as the Kid, had also danced away from the collapsing crates. The soldier had lost his rifle in the confusion and stood facing the Kid weaponless. Taking a dramatic martial arts pose, he began to advance.

Coyote Kid threw the empty Council rifle at the thug’s head with pointed accuracy and then followed in directly behind it. As the soldier reacted, trying to dodge the rifle, Kid slid underneath him. The cut from the katana was quick and the man went down holding his leg. As the man screamed and tried to fend him off, Kid first bounced the katana hilt against the man’s head and then grabbed the man’s grenades. Pulling the pins, he tossed them in random directions like the others.

As three more explosions rocked the warehouse, complete chaos descended on the warehouse. Council soldiers were firing at non-existent attackers, some were trying to put out fires, and others were trying to make some sense out of the attack. The others that the Coyote Kid ran into on the way to the back office faced a similar fate as their fellow soldiers.

With alarms going off, an occasional explosion in the background, and the smell of smoke in the air, Coyote actually knocked on the open door of the back office. “Delivery for Captain Harlington.”

He then tossed two concussion grenades into the office room.

The leader of the base was turned away from the door but when the alarmed cries of the other soldiers filled the air, the Captain spun to face the intruder. Just before he spun into the hallway covering his ears, Kid was surprised to see that Captain Harlington was a woman.

As he leaned against the outer wall and felt the double tap of concussive thumps in the office, he was even more surprised by the fact that he knew her.

He popped his head around quickly to get an idea of what was happening in the office. He saw quickly that several Council soldiers were on the ground, papers floated in the air, lingering discharge smoke drifted in the room, and Captain Harlington was charging for the doorway holding a pistol, her close-cropped red hair nearly matching the color of fury on her normally pale skin.

Kid thought absently that it really didn’t match her Council outfit at all and ducked back into the hallway.

Harlington stuck her hand into the hallway and emptied her pistol several times where she had seen Kid duck. Having ducked prone, the bullets tore over him by several inches. However, he was surprised when she came diving and rolling into the hallway in a blur of motion

He was even more surprised at the speed at which she kicked him in the face.

Staggering back from the blow, he could see her following up the kick and he couldn’t help but think how sexy she looked when she was angry. He sidestepped the forward Dragon Strike punch and threw a knee into her ribs. She huffed out a breath and her hand went to a knife on her belt. As she drew her knife, Coyote Kid drew his katana and stepped back.

This made Harlington stop for a moment.

Kid decided to open up conversation, “Hiya, Harley.”

Harlington snarled, hazel eyes flaring in mild surprise, “Kid! What the @!$& are you doing here?”

Coyote shrugged, “Blowing up your stuff. And you know, I could ask the same thing. I thought you were hiring out with the Andromeda Syndicate?”

Harlington took a step or two to her right, “They suffered an unfortunate lack of fundage brought about by about six pounds of C4 and a minivan.”

Kid matched her movement, shifting a bit to his right as well, “So you hired on with these morons?”

“Yeah, I did. Don’t judge me, scum. Times are tough. And come on, you had to recognize the name.”

“Scum? I see you’re still angry about Vegas…”

Harlington gracefully drew another knife with her left hand, “Matter of fact, I am.”

“Look, Harley, I figured it was some other Harlington. I’m just here for the girl. You know my ability with this,” and he waved his katana, “and I know your ability with those,” and motioned to the knives, “and I know who will win and I also know you know that.” He gave a crooked smile, “Could you maybe just hand her over?”

Harlington licked her lips and laughed a sarcastic laugh.

“Oh, nuts,” the Kid responded.

“Yeah,” said Harlington.

Almost faster then the Kid could see, Harlington threw the left handed knife at him and with the now empty left hand went for something on her belt behind her back. He moved his head almost in time but the knife knicked the edge of his ear as it shot past his head. He used the motion of his head to slide towards the wall of the hallway as she brought a machine pistol to bear and fire down the hallway. She was fast, much faster then he remembered. Something had made her better and Coyote put his money on the Council.

She was moving away from him and tracking his movement with the still firing pistol in controlled bursts as he leapt towards her, trying to close the distance. He came up short with her starting to bring the barrel directly in line with his forehead. He spun sideways and reached for her wrist just as the weapon went off a few inches from his face. Powder burns scorched his cheek and the gunshot deafened him. But, he felt his hand close around her wrist and was happy. He started to pull her into a throw.

The happiness was short-lived as he felt the knife in her right hand slam into his ribs.

They stood in the hallway, locked together. His left hand wrapped around her outstretched left arm, her turned slightly and her right hand with the knife in his ribs. There was a brief moment, faces inches away from each other. Her hazel eyes fired by the fire of combat bored into his. He could see the detail of her lips, individual eyelashes, little flecks of gold in her eyes, and the individual strands of her red hair.

“Vegas was really bad for us, wasn’t it?"

She snarled and jammed the knife in harder.

He grunted and head butted her on the bridge of her nose.

She cussed loudly and tried to drive the knife in further, twisting it a bit. Kid brought his forehead down again and decided to join in on the yelling.

She finally fell backwards and down to the floor, letting go of the knife.

Kid looked down at the knife sticking out of his torso, the hilt protruding from his leather jacket. His healing ability was good and his meditation practices on pain tolerance allowed him to take damage like this. A few more inches and he would have been gone. On top of that, it hurt. It hurt alot. Harlington was crouching and the blood from her nose was draining down the lower part of her face but, being well trained, was not letting it distract her.

“I hope you feel better," he said and motioned at the knife.

Harlington took a swipe at the blood at her face and gave him a genuine, warm smile that unfortunately did not have the same effect with the animal-like crouch and smeared blood. “Actually, I do.”

Coyote Kid nodded and winced a bit, “Where’s the girl, Harley?”

Outside, over the sound of the alarms, the thumping sound of an approaching chopper could be heard. Kid noticed it and squinted at Harlington. “Is that your escape plan?”

Harlington nodded grimly, “Yeah.” And then, in a blur of movement, faster then before, faster then he could react, she was on him again. She punched him twice, grabbed the knife with her right hand, and pinned him against the wall with her left.

She grinned at him. “I need this back.”

She pulled the knife out quickly and then stepped back.

“Because of old times, the girl is in a trapdoor of the office floor. Under the black filing cabinet.”

Coyote Kid grunted and instinctively moved his left hand to cover the wound, “That’s… so… nice of you.”

She kept him pinned for a moment, “Because I’m sure every hero in a half mile is on their way here, I don’t have time to grab her anyway. All things considered between Vegas, Anchorage, and Shoals, I’d say we’re even. What do you say?”

Kid glanced at his right hand that still held his katana, “You realize that I could have poked you with this like four different times, right?”

Harlington looked over her shoulder at the gleaming razor-sharp katana, “Yeah, maybe. Why didn’t you?”

“Like you said, Harley, old times.”

“Yeah, right.” As Kid watched, she ran a gloved hand over her close cropped red hair, gave him a slow once-over look, and chuckled, “You are one tough varming, C.K., always have been.”

Then she was gone down the hall in a blur of supersped motion.

Coyote slid down the hallway wall, “Thanks…”

The daughter of the lawyer was right where Harlington had said she would be. He sheathed the katana and carried the girl out. By the time he made it back outside, the knife wound looked worse then it was. It would still be leaky and sore for a day or two but the bleeding had stopped and his body was mending itself. In the warehouse, other nearby heroes had arrived and were cleaning up scattered remains of the Council base while the other half of the warehouse continued to burn.

He was asked a few times if he needed any assistance but shrugged it off. A healer in a blue cape with mystical symbols and white hair flew over and covered the two of them in energy. Kid felt the knife wound seal completely and the girl smiled. So much for leaky and sore, he thought to himself. Luckily, in a city of capes and colorful outfits, he was even less noticed then he would have been in Chicago as he left the scene. The police were talking to a few capes, interviewing them, as the heroes shrugged their shoulders and looked around, Kid ducked down a back alley with the girl and headed for his car.

Within a minute or two, he and the girl were in the car and driving away at a comfortable speed. Within an hour, the girl was smiling in the arms of her father and he had pocketed a healthy paycheck. Shortly after that, as he drove over the bridges of Skyway, he found himself thinking back over the encounter. There was one sticking point that he wished he had asked Harlington before she had dashed away.

He wondered if she still had that tattoo on her right hip.

(I guess it's about time I started a story thread for one of my favorite characters so far. This is his origin story. More to come...)
------------------------

--From Whence He Came--

"For cryin out loud, do you think you could've made a BIGGER mess?!?"

The Coyote Kid put down his styrofoam coffee cup and turned to face the oncoming rampage of his most favorite Captain in the Chicago Police Department, Captain Reynolds. "I left the paintings up this time, Cap'n, and besides I asked them to put the guns down first and everything..."

The rotating lights of the eight squad cars, two fire trucks, and three ambulances added a weird carnival lighting to the scene outside the Chicago Field Museum. The trenchcoat wearing Reynolds pushed through three of his officers and looked ready to explode from internal pressure.

"I have had it, Kid, had it! Why is it I find you at every large explosion, inter-gang blood bath, or insane car chase? Do you know, I have a file on you that may need an extra room!? And you ALWAYS have an excuse! What is it this time, Kid? International gun runners? Drug dealers?"

Unphased and offering a grin, Coyote Kid offered up, "Art thieves."

"Art thieves?"

"Art thieves."

"Art thieves steal things quietly and try not to damage anything!" Reynolds waved at a smoking black sedan and a black van smashed against a light pole that leaned precariously to one side. "How would you explain this?" He pointed to the smoking museum, "Or that?" And finally pointed to several black clad operatives lying unconscious or dead on the front steps of the museum, "Or THOSE?"

Coyote took a deep breath, held it, let it out slow and looked at the Captain out of the corner of his eye with a shrug, "Uhmmmmmm, too many video games?"

"Christ, Kid, thats it! The mayor is on his way down here because of this. I could lose my job! The boys tell me you are clean. That you actually did a good thing here. But... you know what? GET GONE! Go! Leave! I see you in this city again within the next six months and I will have you arrested for disturbing the peace with your simple PRESENCE!"

Reynolds seemed to gain some composure, "Just get out of here, alright? I've got a burning museum, automatic weapon fire, several dead foreigners-"

"They started it."

"Shut up! Go! You know what, why don't you go to Paragon, huh? They're used to this sort of craziness and violence. You'd blend right in!"

"Ah, thats sweet Captain, you think I'm a superhero..."

"You're a walking disaster is what you are!!! And you belong there!!! I don't care where you go, I just don't want you here ANYMORE!"

The Coyote Kid blinked and finally took his hands out of his leather jacket, "Ah, Captain, you can't be serious? I've got reservations at Gibson's tonight and-"

Captain Reynolds lost it, "If you aren't out of here in thirty seconds I am going to shoot you myself!"

This caused several news cameras to spin his direction.

Coyote Kid raised his hands, "Alright.. Alright.. I hear ya, Reynolds. Sheesh, no need to yell."

As Reynolds seethed at him, The Coyote Kid looked around at the disaster he had helped create and let out another long breath. What Captain Reynolds had said actually didn't sound bad. He'd heard of Paragon and the drive to the East Coast might actually be relaxing. Well, it would be as long as the Tachini Brothers didn't send another helicopter after him.

"Paragon City..." he whispered it and then nodded at Reynolds. "Sounds good. Thanks, Cap'n." Coyote then threw a thumb over his shoulder towards the museum. "By the way, the guy in the red trenchcoat that's hanging off the second floor balcony is the ringleader. He'll point you to where the rest of these bozos are staying."

Reynolds said nothing but his eyes flicked to the museum.

Kid knew it was time to go, "Right. Give my love to your wife..."

"AHHHHHH, thats IT!" said Reynolds and started fumbling for his pistol.

The Coyote Kid took off chuckling and headed for his car parked a few blocks away. Behind him, he could hear the Captain calling back some officers that had mistakenly taken off in pursuit. Overhead a news copter tried to follow him for a short ways but he lost them quickly enough.

Unlocking his car and setting his katana into the passenger seat next to him, he got seated and started the car. He knew Reynolds and he knew the Captain was serious. If the Captain didn't order his arrest, the mayor would've. It was time for him to go. He knew he could get his things mailed to him. The firearms would take longer to get to him but he could pay to have someone drive them to him. He glanced over at his katana.

He had everything he needed right here.

"Now," he muttered, "can someone show me the way to Sesame Street?"

He started the car, opened the sun roof to let the night air in, and turned the car towards the Dan Ryan Expressway which would hook him up wit Highway 80 and eastwards travel. Eastwards toward Paragon City.

Maybe I should focus the question a bit? I would love to try my hand at doing this but after researching the web, I find I'm a bit lost. Here are my questions...

1. Since DJing on your own appears very expensive, how does one get on an "internet radio station" like the Cape or Justiceradio?

2. I am considering podcasting my radio show but it would involve using music from my own collection and from what I understand there is a chance of being sued for doing this. Is this a solid reality for someone that would have a limited audience?

3. Has anyone tried Live 365 as a provider for their DJ/ Radio show? Is it worth it? Are there others out there?

4. If anyone would like to contact me in game, please do @coyotekid . I would love help or simple information so I could move forward with it.

Any information would be great. Thanks in advance!

I'm very interested in doing some DJ'ing over the internet and in-game. How is that folks get started? Is it that hard or expensive?

I have some moderate DJ experience to call on but my knowledge drops off after playing with Winamp, Shoutcast, and lots of internet surfing trying to get started.

Can anyone help me out or point me in the right direction?

Name: The Misfit Club

Currently Recruiting: We are currently looking for new members interested in character driven RP.

RP Level: RP-heavy

Theme/Concept: The Misfit Club is an eclectic gathering of heroes that have found themselves in Paragon City for one reason or another. Coming from other cities, dimensions, planets, and backyards, the Misfits are a tough, witty, and resourceful bunch of heroes banding together to take the fight back to the bad guys!

Perhaps more interested in running through back alleys instead of standing atop City Hall with a flag in the background? Having a hard time fitting in with "normal" superheroes in Paragon? Perhaps just having a hard time to fit in anywhere? The Misfits stick together for mutual support in their fight against the evils found in the City. I would classify it as a mature level SG only because of thematic content and language used on occasion. Movie style rating = PG-13.

Inspiration for the Misfits can be found in the Justice League International by Keith Giffen and J.M DeMatties, Ocean's Eleven movies, and just a touch of the Muppet Show. We are a band of mature, fun-loving, rp-lovin' gamers who have an emphasis on witty improvisation and more importantly, a good time.

The character tone is a mix of gritty, quirky, and, I'll say it one more time, fun.

Activity: We currently starting up and have five unique members but a handful of alts. (hence the recruitment). Best play times are weekday evenings. Weekend play time is varied with members being off and on from morning to evening. Member time zone is currently Eastern DST.

Requirements for Membership: Though we still need a few IC "humorless straight men", we ask that players OOC maintain a drama-free attitude about a group whose goal is to work together, have fun, cause some chaos, and collaborate on some shared storytelling.

Leadership: The Coyote Kid

In-Game Contact: @coyotekid

Out-of-Game Contact: COH Forum handle = Coyotekid. You can also contact us at our Guildportal website below.

URL: The Misfit Club

Coalition(s): The Justiciar -- IC associates and new alliance. Would be willing to entertain other Coalitions!

Other Details: The Misfit Club was created with one central rule, if you get too serious, we will laugh at you. At this time, we have no requirements about time spent online, prestige production, or anything. All we ask is that you try and stay IC as much as possible, keep the general theme of the SG in mind, and put all OOC comments within the magical brackets. We're just a fun-loving group of improv. RP'ers having a good time with characters that are a bit outside the norm. Being an old hand at traditional RP, I will be trying out, in the near future, several 'RP experiments" with our forum board as well as things in-game.

Our base is located in the back warehouse building connected to the Cardinal's Nest which is a medium sized bar run by an old acquaintance of Coyote Kid's. (see Forum board for backstory.) We have a few teleporters, some storage, and, well, some more storage. Rent for the base is currently paid by members working a few shifts at the bar. Members patrol and take assignments as they can get them.

If you have any other questions, feel free to contact me on the website or in-game! See ya on the streets!

I win! I win, I win, I win!!!! I heard about Joshua's pic from Chrysame who was kind enough to surprise me with it today!

I Win!

Nice capture of the character!

[ QUOTE ]
What are the characters names? That green guy with horns made me do a double take

[/ QUOTE ]

That would be my fellow, Joshua Caine. A troll who, after obtaining a Source Shard, is trying to remember what it is like to be human. We've got some great stories on the board so check it out if you have time.

Being an artist myself, this is a really nice piece of work. Great craftsmanship and the care towards the composition is stellar. Thanks again, Brandon!!! I think you captured us nicely!

Well, I and a handful of others were thinking of trying to get to another low traffic East Coast server like Triumph. So, its good to hear that there are Stealth units in the shadows there already.

Thanks for the info!

I've been wondering something. With Virtue getting rather full most nights, is there any interest in starting ANOTHER RP server with one of the East Coast ones? I'd still play on Virtue as much as possible but it would be good to have a backup...

What does everyone think? Is it possible?

I posted this on the Virtue board but I imagine there might be other folks that would enjoy this.

I recently started a new long term project with COH and the Virtue sever.

Frontier's Horizon

The earlier posts are based off of my time in Second Life but I've always envisioned it covering a much larger scope of several different game worlds. For now, I had the good Captain travel over to the world of COH and continue his adventures there.

Enjoy and if you can catch me online I'm always open for RP.

((First time posting on this board but I thought it would be a good place to cross-post. Interested incomments but most of all enjoy!. Thanks in advance!))


Joshua’s Gift

Kleitos Drumfist was laughing at his friend Leander’s victory when the call echoed over the ruins of the Hollows. Quinn Clubfoot, who had just been thrown against the partially standing stone wall of a long dead building, slid limply to the ground. None of the other trolls cared for Clubfoot’s fate as they focused on the signal roar that continued to build in its intensity, passed from one troll to another. That roar stood for only one thing. Atta, their great leader, and his fortress, were under attack. Returning the roar into the bright blue sky of the Hollows, Drumfist took off at a run for the stronghold. Behind them, the puddle of blood grew from underneath Clubfoot’s body. If he was alive when they returned, then he was indeed strong. If he died, then the Tribe had lost a weak member. This was understood by everyone, including Clubfoot.

Kleitos ran as fast as he could. Of all the days for such a thing to happen it would be today, a day that he was not standing guard for the great Atta, a day he had taken to fight and drink with his packmates, his tribe. After a great contest where he had unfortunately had to cripple his friend Arion, he had won a position as one of Atta’s defenders. Kleitos, relying on his wit, cunning, and speed, had bested several other tribe mates who had begun to show powers granted them by the holy drug. The great drug had given him his strength, his size, but truly no obvious powers. It was a matter of speculation at times when the great warrior Kleitos Drumfist would finally be chosen to receive a gift of power. Now, he ran with all his might to defend the king which had shown him so much.

When he arrived, he realized he should have known better. The great Atta rarely needed the aid of his defenders. The great Atta could take care of himself. The intruder was another of the capes from the nearby city. Full of jealousy for the troll nation’s strength, and fear of what Atta might command, they would come into the Hollows. It was a matter of great pride that Kleitos himself had chased away four of these fools and broken three others amongst his patrols along the Gulch. This one, wearing blue, black, and white, a star upon his chest as a target, had tried to face Atta himself. Kleitos had arrived just as the fight was ending, had cheered and jeered as Atta lifted up the blue clad pest and dashed his body against the floor. One of the few to be allowed near the great Atta, Kleitos Drumfist had been one of the first to congratulate his king over the victory. After they removed the body, there would undoubtedly be a great feast.

As he celebrated within a ring of remaining troll defenders, Kleitos happened to look down at the broken body of the blue suited hero. There, next to a ripped pouch lay a small shard of what looked to be a crystal. Something pulled his attention to it and as the noise of the victorious war cries faded away, Drumfist squatted down next to the shard. Time seemed to slow for just a moment as the torchlight flickered off of its angles. Then, Kleitos shook himself and hoping to present it as a trophy to his king, reached down for the crystal. Smiling at the thought of his warlord’s face and thinking what he would say as he presented it, his bare fingers closed around the odd shard.

At that moment, he knew something was wrong.

He should have let go but he could not. Instead, he gripped the form tighter and attempted to stand, his gaze locked onto the crystalline fragment. His hand was tingling. No, it was throbbing and something was very very wrong. A light began to emanate from the shard and only because of a startled sound of alarm from a nearby troll Kleitos looked around briefly. The other troll defenders and Atta, paused in the job of lifting the broken hero’s unconscious body and carrying it to be disposed of in the Gulch, stared at Kleitos. Atta’s eyes went from Kleitos’ face to what he held in his hand and they went wide.

Before the great leader could say anything, Kleitos watched as the shard pulsed brighter with an azure energy and disintegrated into the palm of his hand.

Things happened too fast for Kleitos to completely remember them. Something had flashed over his body, through his body. His muscles had rippled and convulsed. At some point, he had collapsed onto the hard floor his eyes shut tight against the pain and the sensations. The shard was coursing through him, at some points tearing through his soul and at others caressing, massaging. It seemed at odds with something else in him and the fight caused him to fall sideways from his kneeled position. He could not speak, his teeth clenched tightly together. All his focus was inward as blue fire flashed over the inside of his eyelids and white hot lightning seemed to play along the inside of his body. He lost all sense of time but eventually, the sensations faded, rolling away like thunder.

But something began to flash inside his mind, something that felt true and solid and right. For a brief moment, clarity unlike anything he could ever remember struck him. He was not Kleitos Drumfist.

His real name was Joshua, Joshua Caine.

And something else came to him in that moment of perfect and total focus. Since losing his real name he had done very bad things. He could not remember them but he did not have to remember them. He knew.

He opened his eyes to compose himself only to see Atta and the other trolls take in their breath and step backwards. His vision, like looking through an empty blue colored bottle, was filled with a cerulean tint. But, regardless of the hue, he recognized the fear in their faces and fear was something that trolls did not react gently upon.

A member of Atta’s honor guard, he could not remember the guard’s name, stepped in front of Atta, “What did you do, Drumfist? Are you well? Your eyes, they glow. And you are bigger! What did you take from the great Atta’s spoil of war? What did you take that should have strengthened Atta himself? ”

Joshua instinctively staggered to his feet but found he could not speak. He wanted to tell them he had been trying to give his king a gift. It had been an accident. It was all an accident. They had to understand. He was not trying to steal anything. He tried to form words.

“Gift,” was all he able to stammer. “Gift. Nothing… but…. gift.”

Atta glared furiously at his defender and Joshua realized that he was about to be tested. That, in the Troll way, the only way to see if something new was worthy was to fight it, try to kill it. He stumbled backwards knowing what was about to happen and he fled down a hallway that he remembered would lead back to the outside. As he made the doorway to the hall he heard Atta’s command behind him, “Take him.”

When the first trio of trolls caught him at the door to the hills outside, Joshua thought it was all over. He could remember how to fight and he would not go down without one. When the first troll attacked him, he set himself to receive the charge and lay a stunning blow to the troll’s head. The minute he started moving, Joshua knew other things had changed besides his vision.

His muscled bunched, reacted, and a stunning explosion of energy exploded from his fist. A strike which caught the attacking troll in the side of the head, lifting him off the ground, and sending him nearly twenty feet away. Joshua was as stunned as the other attacking trolls to the superhuman display. In the brief seconds it took them to react, Joshua placed a shoulder into one of them and was once again free.

The chase took all day over territory that both he and his pursuers knew all too well. The other trolls were discouraged for awhile when Joshua discovered he could also summon the same energy and shoot it over distances. From then on, they mocked him from a distance, called him a cape, a traitor. They stopped trying to capture him with a straight on pursuit and, fearful of what abilities he might display next, tried to wear him down, to sneak up on him while he attempted to rest. Fortunately, over that time, he began to recover his original human intelligence. It kept him out of their grasp. He began to understand, at an instinctual level, that the shard and its energy were beginning to work against the years of Superadine he had put into his system. At times, he warred with himself. At times it seemed his memories as Kleitos would take over and he would think of returning to Atta’s court to explain. But then, something else would urge him further towards the Cherry Hills and the guarded entrance to the part of the city called Atlas Park.

He knew better then to directly approach the fortified guard towers and entrance zone. If the gathered heroes did not directly attack him, the city’s robotic sentries would do so automatically. And even the great Atta himself knew better then to try and run past one of the robots. He tried to approach a few single heroes who had been sent out into the ruins near Cherry Hill but they either fled from him or tried to apprehend him. He survived by attacking single Hellions when he could and taking whatever supplies they might have on them. It was rarely enough. Whatever the shard had done to him it had also left him ravenously hungry.

It was in this state, hungry, tired, and dealing with all he had lost as well as gained, that Joshua Caine collapsed in a shadowy corner of a ruined brick building. It was here that the man he would later learn to know as John Talbot found him after following the inner guidance of his own shard. Standing in the dark debris filled alley, Talbot wore the same exact outfit as the man Atta had beaten several days ago, the same outfit of the man who had carried the odd shard which Joshua had absorbed. It was the outfit that made Joshua initially snarl at the man. Growl as he tiredly got to his feet, refusing to be taken as a dog lying in an alleyway.

“Easy, big guy,” Talbot had said, “Easy, I’m here to help you. Tell me, what’s your name?”

The troll once known as Kleitos Drumfist knew the man was speaking the truth. Knew it the same way he knew many things since absorbing the crystalline shard. Things he did not fully understand but knew he would. As he leaned against the brick wall, letting his defenses down for the first time in two full days, he spoke with a voice he was not sure was his own.

“My name…. is… Joshua. Joshua Caine.”

“Come on, Joshua,’ spoke the man in blue and black with the white star as a target, “let’s get you out of here and someplace safe.”

Joshua, exhausted, nodded and followed the man past the sentry robots, the other heroes and policeman that gathered and stared at the troll being led from the Hollows not as a prisoner but as someone once again free. Battling some inner battle, Joshua stopped before entering Atlas Park and looked back over the broken landscape of the Hollows one last time. There was much he was leaving behind but something swirled in him and he knew there was much more in front of him. With a trollish and decisive snort, he strode over the threshold into Atlas Park.