Spartan gave Rust the address of the Apartment complex where the Murder happened, as they drove along Spartan looked to his pledge brother and said, "How much do you remember?"
Spartan didn't know a delicate way to ask this so he went with his gut and just spit it straight out. No messing around, straight ahead, that is the Spartan way.
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"The trash heap. The sword pits. A Needlecliff Mountain. And the ring." Yes the Gladiator Rings. Rust shivers. "Faces are all but lost. And there are huge gaps. I remember a banquet. I was dressed in pure gold. I remember the concubines. And the Mech Shop. Spartan in my head your just a face."
Rust stops at a light and leans back in his seat.
Spartan looks to his brother, "Perhaps I can help." Spartan uses a Glamour to harden his mask, his face changing back into the way he was before his body became hardened in armor."Do I look more familiar now? Does this remind you of anything?" His eyes now a cold blue, his hair a sandy brown. "This is the way I looked when we first met. The first time we drew swords together"
Spartan's Mask
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Rust turns and looks. And loooooks.... The car behind him honks and Rust quickly presses the gas to go through the intersection. "Talk to me. Tell me everything. Please brother."
"You remember me then? I remember before you were called Rust. I remember the name you were called. I remember the strength of your Sword arm as we cleaved bodies in twain." Spartan says to Rust, looking past the shell and seeing the powerful warrior who he was. "Your Name was Xela. You were enslaved and kept by He who Wrought Silver"
Spartan looks out the window of the truck and begins to remember the battles of the past. The fallen bodies, broken and damaged soldier and warriors.
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Rust just sees eyes. Dead, glazed over eyes staring. "Xela, Thats one fucked up name..." he quips to lighten the mood. Rust now had a name for the rust hulking monster that still haunted his dreams. He makes another turn and is soon on the highway.
"What about you. Tell me about the Spartan"
"I was taken as a Child, trained in the same way My ancestors were trained. My Keeper called himself, 'The Collector'. But rather then collecting just artifacts he collected people. I am a direct decedent of King Leonidas the First. The spartan warrior king who fought and died at the battle of Thermopylae." Spartan explains, his skin feels warm, as if it was splashed with the blood of his enemies. He began to feel the rage build within him. The anger of being taken by the Fae, The abuse that he suffered, His eyes began to burn red again and he released his hardened mask.
"I was taken when I was 6. It was many years later I met you. 15 year or so..."
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Rust takes note of the anger. Good....
Hate leads to the darkside.
"So your just as pissed as I am then?" It really wasn;t a question. Spartan looked ready to kill something. Rust was guessing as much anyway. The helmet was hard to read.
Rust pulls down a street and slows so as not to miss the address. Seeing the right place, he pulls in. But waits for an answer.
"I was released by my Keeper. I did not escape. But do not get me wrong, I am no loyalist. My release was... Forced." Spartan turned his head and looked Rust in the eyes. Rust will see that past the helmet Spartan's eyes burned with rage... literally. A glowing red from his eyes radiated out. "Yes I am angry. Yes I will have vengeance for what was done to me. These killings are my road to redemption. No child should be taken from there parent. Unless that parent is not capable of caring for the child. My mother was very capable of caring for me."
Spartan got out of the truck, surprisingly not slamming the truck door, and looked up at the building. He waited for Rust to join him before walking into the building.
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The apartment building doesn't seem any different from the surrounding builidings, and has no indicatiors that it was the site of such a gruesome crime. It also appears that any investigations have long passed as no police seem to be lingering.
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