…,when your pain is constant and sharp and you relinquish all hope, is soothing from a soul's cry.
Death follows you.
This called us forth, asking that you are doing with your place that what calms the great devourer.
I'm a Reaper, the name of my choosing is Scarlet and my affliction is with the Corsairs.
Crete's view on the world outside discards the thought that my scythe is carving bodies in Liberty, a sentiment I cannot share. But a sentiment I'm bound following.
Enter the Xenos to the scene. You were chosen, doing what needs done, fulfilling the quota for your place.
Perhaps not much is changing for you, other than you collect your victim's blood from this day on. Drain their bodies for every drop and send it off for Crete.
Sell your souls and become a piece in the sacrifice, the Reapers pay.
A pact was offered, make your choice.
I'm Squadron Commander Damian Morreti. And I'll be addressing your.. unique request - I guess.
Now you're right about some things. We kill a lot of people. Probably an impressive number given the centuries that we've existed. That said it's not exactly an intricate process, there's usually particles and explosions involved and as you can imagine that doesn't leave much in the way of human corpses just broken ships. But okay, let's suppose there's a body left. We'd have to yank these people away, drain them, store the blood somewhere and then essentially ship it to you.
I'm not questioning your sanity as much as I am just curious how exactly you expect us, absolute strangers at this point, to commit to an exceptionally tedious blood harvest operation. Are you sure you wouldn't prefer organs instead? Be much easier to deal in solids than liquids that don't exactly come out even on a rough wash cycle. Or at the very least have your own guys hang around and do the deed after we're done making a mess.
Now I'm sure I'll regret asking, but what kind of payment are we talking about? Be nice to know what kind of business arrangement you have in mind.
…is the beast that mangles you in the night, because you dared alone into the woods.
You made the right choice.
The countering offer was heard and the devil's signature on it is yours.
Followers are send doing the deed. A place hidden enough between the stars' shades is soon chosen, where you are bringing in the desired bodies and the followers carry it from there.
Right now, your payment is common credits. Do you wish for something else, are you eager sacrificing more?
I'm thirsting for the thoughts the darkest depths of your mind hide.
Make your answer thrill me.
Quite the hedonist slash sadist, aren't you? Since I'm not opposed to simple pleasures I'll humor you. There's something quite satisfying about whipping a Prosecutor well beyond its safety thresholds. All the more so when you time your movements right down to the fraction of a second, knocking out someone's shield system and baiting them to run right towards your nuclear ordnance. All it really takes at that point is the express delivery of a mosquito cruise disruptor to light up the void quite literally. When you pull it off, and send radiation and shrapnel crashing through someone's canopy - it's quite the rush.
I've made more keen observations, but I've not got the time to narrate them all to you over the neural-net. If you're after more thrill then you'll have to pay a visit, preferably with some artifacts for sale.
…is the great evil's calling from beyond the mortal realm.
The fable of the rush's thrill, the only moment of truth before carrying a life to it's end.
Your choice is admirable.
Come closer, and let the Reapers wash away your doubt and fear.
The Reapers' trade in blood and souls, not in artifcats.
You crave the material? Offer a pact and I speak with the Brotherhood.
Come closer? I hope you're well aware of what happens when you beckon a snake. And no I don't need you to talk to the Brotherhood for me. Consider the gesture appreciated anyway. If you're ever in the neighborhood we should take a trip north into Shikoku and murder some hapless passerby. Practice makes perfect after-all.
It is decided.
The Reapers move the Famine for Shikoku, it serves the deed of draining the bodies. The bodies you bring for your hideouts, followers carry them off from there. The Reapers do not violate your place.
Your payment remains common credits. Do you wish for something else?
I'm intrigued with the shade's black in your soul, the shade that so eagerly you are showing me.
For this gesture, for this your affection, I'm offering you a pact once more.
Your place contains a stain, one that backs the Corsairs' nemesis, it's name is with the Outcasts and your deed in this is the hunt.
Search them out, spare no one, and show me what cruelty possesses you.
I'm awaiting a myriad of souls' cries, when they fade into the beyond, with no relief, no devil's harvest.
They are tainted souls, unworthy the sacrifice.
Do this, and you can choose your reward.
A pact was offered, make your choice.
You want me to hunt down the drug-lords? Fair enough. I'll do you one better, I'll hunt them down and their pawns in the drug trade, the Rogues. I know they aren't part of this deal you're offering, but consider it a bonus and one without a catch. As for what I'd want in return, I'd need to think about it and figure out what a fair compensation for my efforts would be.