|
Join the AAF Cartographer: Vlaskovic Historian: Artstotszka Guardian: Freechrist |
 Founded: January 20th, 2016 Motto:Where Dreams Become Story. We prefer a small closely-knit active community, than that of a large inactive loose-knit community |
The regional roleplays now can be found on the region's Regional Roleplay Dispatch that's pinned onto the WFE. |
| Welcome to Audaxia. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| The Otikoro Muhali Foundation Investigates | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Mar 23 2016, 01:00 PM (208 Views) | |
| United Iwi | Mar 23 2016, 01:00 PM Post #1 |
|
OOC - Connected to this Otikoro was a rich man in many ways, the large areas of farmland he owned made him cash wealthy, his family had owned six large modern fishing ships before the war, however those now lay at the bottom of the ocean, that though had been a mere dent in the fortune of his bank account. Yet in his own eyes he was poor, his wife, his three children, six grandchildren had all been murdered by the Isernians during the War of Independence. His wife had been murdered when a group of infantry had appeared out of the woods, she'd been pushed up against a wall and shot, Otikoro had been made to watch before being beaten and left for dead. His son had died fighting, cut down by an Isernian air-force jet, his two daughters had been rounded up and taken to a labour camp where they'd died, he wasn't sure how, his grand-children sharing similar fates. He'd considered suicide, he didn't think he could continue without his family, that was however before he meet a young man called Moahna Tuma, a former special forces soldier, he'd lead a break out from a Labour Camp and then joined the Guerilla's in the Forest. He'd attended a meeting of survivors of the Camp's , a network to help them readjust now the wars were over, Otikoro had attended, desperate for any information he could find about his family and what they'd gone through, hoping it would all make sense, it didn't. The two had become friends and at first Otikoro had spoke of revenge. "Listen old man" the 40 year old Moahna said as they sat having a beer on Otikoro's porch, "You want revenge, I want revenge, but do you know the best revenge." he asked looking into the sunset. Otikoro shook his head, "I'll tell you then" he sipped his beer from the can, "It's this, the Maori race alive and well, flourishing in fact, in control of our own destiny. Now they think they've got away with it, they think the world will never know, because the Maori aren't a super-power, we're not some mega nation, but what we should do is find them, show the world what they did to their fellow human being, humiliate the memory of them and show them that we are the stronger and better men." Something hit home Otikoro nodded an agreement. "Then let's say me and you find them, we find anyone who murdered our people and bring them to justice." "That'll take time, money and tears." "Time I may lack" Otikoro was seventy now, "Money I have, and tears I've cried enough." "You sound like you have a plan" Moahna said finishing his beer. "I have, I'm going to set up a group of private investigators so we get every single one of the murdering bastards." Otikoro finished his own beer and then threw the can in the trash. That had been four years ago, and now they'd made their first list, the King had sent it out to the world, a shiny new office building housed row after row of filing cabinets stuffed with evidence on over 1,000 people they believed they could prove were guilty, a further floor was dedicated to documents and other forms of evidence and there at the top floor was Otikoro himself pouring through the folder of Adolfo Oberto |
 |
 
|
| Teutonic Union | Apr 1 2016, 09:51 AM Post #2 |
|
Adolofo had not long been back in the Union, technically he wasn't back at all, Luca Badara was, he'd managed to get the fake identity when it seemed the Irsenians would lose in the land they had once colonised. To be honest he didn't really care if they held that land or not, it was the wealth and the power that he had enjoyed, enough wealth and power to mean that he could afford some simple plastic surgery, make himself younger looking, with more hair, nicer teeth, things that would make him difficult to recognise. The wealth also meant he had a nice house, a villa in fact, perched on a hillside over looking a valley full of vineyards. He had returned here six years earlier and brought the place, a year later he'd meet Marianna a younger woman, sixteen years his junior. He'd been amazed the 56 year old lady had taken any interest, but then again the surgery and the money had to have been a factor. They'd married soon after and he'd taken her family to heart, she had been a widow and had two children from her marriage, Stefano, a nice young man of 22 years of age, he was just out of University and now spent his days searching for jobs and helping out on neighbouring vineyards to earn some money to take out his new girlfriend Sarah. Gabriella was 27, she was married, to a man who managed the local restaurant, she worked there with him occasionally between watching their five year old daughter Elsa. Elsa loved her "Gramps" and would often spend time with him in the Villa garden tending to the roses. "Gramps" she said picking up some of the petals that had fallen as he pruned them, "What did you do in the Police Force" He'd been conservative with the truth but not denied all of his past. "Well chicken" he said trimming the next bush, "I arrested naughty people when they'd done something wrong." "Just arrest them, if their naughty shouldn't they be punished." "That was not for me to deciede" he said focusing on the bush. "Well who does?" she asked as petals began to fall. "A man who gives them a chance to say that they didn't do it, then he decides if they did the naughty thing and he picks a punishment." He smiled, he couldn't believe he was explaining the justice system to a little girl. "Everyone deserves a chance to say they aren't guilty." "Mummy doesn't if I don't tidy my room." "Well do you tidy it?" he asked already smiling. "Well....erm...not always" "Mummy's know everything you see." he ruffled her hair and took the bucket from her his job done. "Come on lets go get some lemonade Granny will have made" |
|
|
|
| United Iwi | Apr 14 2016, 11:49 AM Post #3 |
|
Grace Nocerina was an odd one, born to a Maori mother with an Isernian father, she had often felt an outsider. Her father had been one of the few Isernian's to change side and had in fact been adopted by one of the Iwi after sending them warning of an impending attack, in effect her father had been a kind of double agent, part of the Isernian Ministry of Transport he often heard about the use of trucks etc and as such was able to warn the Iwi fighting for freedom. He'd been honoured after the war but the truth coming out had seen her father's people, including his own family turn their back on him. That didn't matter he'd embraced and in return been embraced by the Maori yet somehow he still didn't fully fit, many Maori despite knowing his deeds still saw the death of loved ones in his eyes, that stigma in turn had passed to Grace. In a way she saw her work at the Foundation as a way of making up for her father's people's crimes. She'd made it her work since University in running those murderers to ground and she was pretty damn good at it. Today she'd cycled into work like normal and had just done getting changed out of her shorts and T-Shirt when Moahna Tuma walked in. "Morning Grace" he said cheerfully, he pushed a box of doughnuts her way. "Taka's birthday" he said by way of explanation. "No thanks Mo" she said with a smile. "Ah....I forgot, the super fitness freak doesn't permit sweet treats." Mo slapped himself comedically on the forehead. "That's right" she said unlocking her draw and pulling out a brown folder. "What you working on?" Mo asked pulling up a seat next to her. "Adolfo Oberto" she said holding up the picture. "We got the Butcher of Tempara Bay?" he said hopefully. "I doubt it, but you know we follow up on everything." Mo had pulled his chair close, he'd spent time in the Tempara Bay "Detention Centre" himself, a place where children had been tortured in front of parents before whole families had been bayoneted to death. He'd spent two weeks chained up in the exercise yard as punishment for not working hard enough, he too would have died had he not escaped a day after being placed back into the workers barracks. He'd seen Oberto most days selecting which people to execute for minor crimes. "Please enlighten me" Mo said. "Well we've found a bank account in the name of Oberto which paid money into a holding company based in the Teutonic Union. Its been on our radar for a while as a place that potentially may have been involved with some of the bigger names. Well we had a tip off that a payment from the company to a Luca Badara matches exactly the same payment out as Oberto paid in." "Coincidence" Mo said having heard more solid evidence in many other cases. "Yeah you'd think that" she opened a envelope and handed the photo inside to Mo. "So I ran the name Luca Badara and found this." It was from a local newspaper in the Teutonic Union, it showed an oldish man on his wedding day. "Hmm" looks a little like him. "Yeah we thought so too." she pulled out a copy of a sheet in which the military ID of Oberto and the face of Badara were side by side with annotations "You see some of these guys have had surgery, but some things they don't change." she pointed to the annotations showing distance between eyes, height and size of ears, a match of eye colouring and various other comparisons. "Pretty much identical." "Your convincing me." "Well the thing is that Luca here seems to have done nothing much before getting married, as though he just appeared out of thin air." "So its him?" "I'm about 70% certain." Grace smiled. "What do you need to be sure to go for a deportation?" Mo handed the documents back. "Well a signed confession would be nice" she shrugged, "We've enough evidence that once we know its him we can prove he's a war criminal, what we need to do is two things, first prove that this man is who I think he is and not some simple old man. Second we hand the file over to the Teutonic Union and I suspect they'll hand him over, their Emperor has sounded supportive so I guess we'll find out." "Excellent" Mo closed the folder and stood up. "Guess I need to go and see logistics about a flight to the Union then." "What you going to do?" Grace asked nervously. "He'll slip up and leave something with his DNA on. When he does I'll be there." Mo was already heading towards the office door of the department that handled logistics for the Foundation with a twinkle in his eyes and a spring in his step. |
|
|
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Archive · Next Topic » |
4:45 PM Jul 13