Detective Wakefield

[Mushroom Mushroom]

I never interacted with him, but I knew of him, and that's amazing.

[Cat]

We only ever had bits and pieces of interactions on my few chars that I've had about, but every one that we had was memorable.

[SamB123]

Wakefield was one of those characters that everyone knew, even if they only knew him by word of mouth or sendings. I liked his generally jaded attitude.


Well done!

[Easy To Remember]

I enjoyed playing with you and I'm hoping you stick around, because you're a great writer and you really can do justice to any concept that catches your interest.

Also, I still find it really entertaining that you added smoking and hats to EFU to indirectly improve your own aesthetic.

[Jello!]

Great character! Always fun to Rp with.

[Drink With Me]

Undoubtly you know how I feel but to put it into words and remembered forever:

Wakefield was great and having the pleasure and privilege to play alongside you  as Maggie was fantastic. An amazing character with a focus more on the mystery and off beat secrets of the rings.

[Stranger]

One of the greatest legends to walk the City of Rings.

...and probably the most unsung...

[Wakefield]

I know I'm digging up a very old thread here, but now that things won't be so spoiler-y, here's the character's ending.


The Nothing sent its champion after Wakefield and, despite Leopold Sobol's best efforts to intervene, it was a pretty simple capture. Down below 99, the champion roused its prey from unconsciousness...

Isenbardus Galot:  Wake, doll of crudest clay...

Cole Wakefield:  He slowly stirs, bloodied and barely able to lift his head. "Nnnh."

Isenbardus Galot:  This is not my home, nor is any place in this walled City... Not for some time at least, but there is hospitality enough here... Eheh...
Isenbardus Galot:  [An uncharacteristic snicker slips free of the Champion.]

Cole Wakefield:  "Ain't... my home... either."

Isenbardus Galot:  My King demanded that you be taken... You have slighted him in the past, long since... when he was but a Prince...
Isenbardus Galot:  My King has told me this. But I would hear it from your own poorly-shod lips...

Cole Wakefield:  "My version's... different. Never said I was a.... a brave fella. Marched with Trystan to stop th' slaver lizards," he groans out, blinking unfocused eyes. "Met their warlord, everyone but three cowards died. I said... we had to leg it... or Trystan would be killed too."
Cole Wakefield:  "Trystan thought we abandoned 'em all. But they were dead.... already. Thought Trystan was... weakened and.... would be killed too. He was too important."

Isenbardus Galot:  [He eyes the man, pacing a moment and then pulls his helm free, taking a long drink from his wineskin. Darkness trickles down his chin, dripping onto the floor.]

Cole Wakefield:  He chuckles weakly. "Heh, Trystan just had to raise... his hand at the... warlord. Told it to kneel. Killed it in a heartbeat. He never.... needed us."
Cole Wakefield:  "Marched with him a second time... into 101. He was a leader to me, even then."
Cole Wakefield:  Wakefield lurches a bit, looking around in weakened confusion. "....It's all... black here..."

DM Ironside :  You spin through black infinities, caught in a warm, welcoming, churning sea...
DM Ironside :  Tumbling in waves and awkward contortions, until you come to ground. A point of anchoring light is ahead, amidst all the dark.

Isenbardus Galot:  Does it not feel like home...?

Tentacle:  [The tentacle stretches out and curls around the two of them lovingly... ]

DM Ironside :  Figures in the umbral gloom reach out to touch you..

Isenbardus Galot:  Friends... it has been so long...

DM Ironside :  Grasping.. not to harm, but to merely experience the feeling of hand upon flesh..

Isenbardus Galot:  That... is you isn't it?

Cole Wakefield:  "Home's... a world away," he replies, battered and embraced. He grits his teeth at the sensations.

Isenbardus Galot:  Father?
Isenbardus Galot:  Not so far as you think, doll..

Cole Wakefield:  Wakefield struggles against the tendrils, too weak to do much more than push a limp hand against them.

Isenbardus Galot:  Though, perhaps not for you...

DM Ironside :  The man who brought you here seems.. less distinct. One more shadow amidst a hundred more, forming and dissolving in the mirk.

Cole Wakefield:  "This ain't anybody's home," he says to the blurry shape. "Corrupted ley bashin' against rings."

DM Ironside : [Tell] Your practiced eye has served you well, old timer... and it ain't stopped in this place. Roll spot.

Cole Wakefield:  [Cole Wakefield's Visual Acuity is Impressive.]

Isenbardus Galot:  Is it?
Isenbardus Galot:  [The shade-man's voice is soft, ethereal amidst the churming mass.]

Cole Wakefield:  Still straining against the black, he says, "You signed on with someone you never met. I met him before and after the Nothing. My soul started here before I was an Awoken."

DM Ironside : [Tell] There's something else here, amid all the dark watery soup. Cuts through like a ray of sunlight in a bleary drunk's eyes. It gives you a headache, but a bit of clarity too.

Cole Wakefield:  Wakefield's eyes search around the bleak area, the pupls locking on something and dilating. "You... nngh... dunno who or what all this is about, right? Do you wanna?"

Isenbardus Galot:  What do you think it is?
Isenbardus Galot:  [The shade kneels, suddenly.]

Prince Trystan Moonspear:  Not, I should think, as much as you do, Detective. [A voice cuts through the churning, making itself heard. A figure of light, smiling sadly, is here now.]

Cole Wakefield:  He sighs a bit, nodding. "Knowing the truth of it all was all I had left. Tryin' to fix what's broken, 'cause nobody else was gonna."
Cole Wakefield:  A weak, self-depricating chuckles spills out of him. "Aimin' big for a guy who crumples like old paper, huh?"
Cole Wakefield:  "We've always had too many other people around to really talk," he says over to Trystan's form. "Always too much battle and war and people who want to be important."

Isenbardus Galot:  [The shaded Knight remains kneeling, floating in the murk with head bowed in reverence.]

Cole Wakefield:  "Now that you're here in this.... place... what do you wanna do with it all? The Nothing wants to destroy it all and reform the energy. But what about you, Prince Moonspear? What about the kingdom that won't be there to rule as your father did?"

Prince Trystan Moonspear:  My Kingdom..
Prince Trystan Moonspear:  In sooth, I always envisioned myself more a hero than a ruler; I am not one to bicker over taxes and de jure..

Cole Wakefield:  "I saw you the same way. Only reason you got an old coward like me to risk his life on your marches."

Prince Trystan Moonspear:  I called you a Coward, once, but I think now that was injust -- men always fear the unknown. Doubly so, men who try to understand it.
Prince Trystan Moonspear:  Without your caution, I would not have come to be.. as I am.

Cole Wakefield:  "Your bloodline's power did the heavy lifting. Wish I could've talked to you about it before.... all this."

Prince Trystan Moonspear:  I know. Words may've triumphed, where action failed us all.
Prince Trystan Moonspear:  It is not so terrible though. We are on the road to recovery, Wakefield.

Cole Wakefield:  "Do you still see this all as sunshine and fields of limegreen?"

Prince Trystan Moonspear:  I do. That is what it means to wake up, Detective.
Prince Trystan Moonspear:  The dreamer must ever dread the morning; if I were to tell you a secret, would you keep it?

Cole Wakefield:  He gives another mirthless chuckle. "I don't expect I'll be able to jaw with anyone ever again, Prince Moonspear. I'll keep it secret."

Prince Trystan Moonspear:  You aren't a mighty magician, or a chivalrous knight, or anything but a man out of his element.
Prince Trystan Moonspear:  But you have the power to lift all of this darkness from the world.

Cole Wakefield:  "I was puttin' my money on one of the king's scions for that job," he says, shaking his head slowly. "All I aimed to do was help one get to the right place at the right time."

Prince Trystan Moonspear:  Well, here I am. And here you are.

Prince Trystan Moonspear : [Tell] Something stirs inside your gut. You suck in a breath..
Prince Trystan Moonspear : [Tell] // Roll fortitude, detective

Cole Wakefield:  [Cole Wakefield's Fortitude is Acceptable.]

Prince Trystan Moonspear : [Tell] You snort with the ferocity of it. Damn, air filling lung - a little brisk.
Prince Trystan Moonspear : [Tell] How long has it been since you took a conscious breath?

Cole Wakefield:  He gives a ragged breath, straining. A cough can't be suppressed from the smoker's lung.

DM Ironside : [Tell] ...your face feels wet.

Cole Wakefield:  Wakefield blinks a few times, shaking off phantom droplets.

DM Ironside : [Tell] You do indeed blink. Wait -- what?
DM Ironside :  The shadow, the Prince, and the madman are gone.
DM Ironside :  You blink out a ray of sunlight through a shaded window.
DM Ironside :  Your face is wet with drool. You've been sawing some thick damn logs...
DM Ironside :  Where are you, anyway?

Cole Wakefield:  He looks around slowly, trying to connect some dots.
Cole Wakefield:  Ever-suspicious, he eyes the dingy joint like he's expecting a shadow to jump him.
Cole Wakefield:  Stooping, he picks up the letter.

DM Ironside :  Your movements feel.. sluggish, but whole. Your heart's beating, you stink like a dog with a tobacco problem..
DM Ironside :  Are you dreaming? Are you living? What about the case, Detective?
DM Ironside :  Who the fuck is Trystan Moonspear, anyway?

Cole Wakefield:  He pats himself down, checking over so many pockets and bags. Too many mementos of a City of Rings.
Cole Wakefield:  "Maggie, Camile..." he says to himself, looking towards the door.

DM Ironside :  You're not certain if it's the drink, the smoke, or the trashy novel.. but something seems "Off" --
DM Ironside : [Tell] Roll will, one more time.

Cole Wakefield:  [Cole Wakefield's Will is Above Average.]

DM Ironside :  -- But you're sure it'll wear off in time.

Cole Wakefield:  "...Now where was I...?" he says, picking up an old case file...

DM Ironside :  Two dead men are slowly turning to mold and wild honey somewhere in a dismal tenement here, in this city. One man with a headache shaking off a nightmare is going to find out why.
DM Ironside :  Somewhere in another place, and another time, the world carries on.. one pipe-smoking soul less.
DM Ironside :  --The End--

Unimaginably big thanks to Ironside for the time he spent closing the character out. It was one of the best things I've been a part of. :)