This all started when two months ago, seemingly out of nowhere, Nat suddenly had no purpose. On his way back to the guild of Dies Irae, from a seemingly wonderful time with Trinity, having been made aware of her lapses in consciousness that would explain her disappearances. Indeed, that was one thing off his mind that was apparently only going to be replaced with a dozen more. For once the former holy crusader stepped foot in the their old castle, he was informed by people emptying it out that Dies Irae no longer existed. He was stunned in this disbelief, unable to accept such a rather convenient explanation as to why it's all gone. He grabbed the person explaining by the collar in a fit of confused rage, demanding more but that is all he could say as he showed him an official report. His whole world and purpose and life came crashing down in an instant with a few words. Not only that, but when he had asked what became of their prestigious members and officers, the best answer he could get was they just vanished... gone in an instant that only made his heart sink more. He never got to tell Sivvy, his master goodbye, nor was he ever able to repair the massive gaping rift he had created between them. Until now, he could remember the sight of a entire cart of cakes, cakes he had made just get dragged out from the building uneaten... They, like him, were just left.
The man was but a hollow shell now. Not knowing where he needed to go. His mind was full of rage that he couldn't help but only think of getting answers. Unfortunately for him, Nat wasn't privy to the inner workings of the guild. He had no info on the guild enemies, his rage got mixed with shame as he thought on about the leaders of the guild, about his mentor. Yes, his mentor, co-leader of the guild and of the strongest people he has ever known. Gone. Without a clue. He couldn't help but feel unworthy as he walked back to the port to get a ship to the mainland. Only, he wouldn't get there as his very legs would give out at the thought of his failure as a mage, as a mentee, as a member of Dies Irae.
Sivvy... that's all he could think about... not even Trinity, the person he loves, because she isn't answering his texts again, possibly unconscious once more. What made it worse was the last thing he ever saw of her was but a cold expression on her... well... her head, as she couldn't even look at him the last time she saw him. And it was all because of that girl... that Thana... All of a sudden he thought that she might have been the one to disband Dies Irae. Life, however dark, and angry it was, came back to him. It filled him once more and became evident in his eyes. He wanted to set out and find the woman he thought responsible for this. Thus beginning his unholy crusade, and his search for one woman.
He started with every inch of Fiore, every town, city, and landmark, but to no avail. There was no sign of clue that could lead him to her. Other people would have given up or gone insane having gone through half their savings, in a month. But in these dark times, what kept him sane, grounded and clear in his mission, was him sending him texts to Trinity, whenever he arrives or leaves an area. Hoping that one day, she might show up then next time she is conscious again since he told her to check her phone for his messages whenever the next time she wakes up from being unconscious. Though he couldn't help himself from thinking that it may also be the reason why this Thana person is always one step ahead of him. That it must be somehow related. No, he must be thinking things out of desperation. Trinity said her said, and he believed him.
That brings him to now. It was here in the Neutral Grounds that Nat's money would finally run out and he couldn't leave. He was a bum in the streets, and with no real technical skills outside of being a mage and baking, he could only find work as a waiter in a diner. The pay wasn't exactly the kind that would leave one with something to leave town with. No, he was stuck there in an endless cycle of working, eating, sleeping and going out on his days off. He even had to sell his prized armor off just to make ends meet, and two weeks in, he could feel himself being empty once more. He tried to get inspiration from his phone that had a picture of the lady that had two different eye colors. His desperation for good news drove him to check their messages to one another for a semblance of good news. But no, the last message was his. Telling her that he was in the Neutral Grounds, and that he was stuck there, and right after his phone battery died. With a sigh, he placed his phone back in his pocket and walked through the alley he had always taken going back to his shitty rental apartment. Though, unlike other days, he would find himself trapped in between a group of muggers with no real way to defend himself. His sword was back at his place and magic cannot be used in this place. He looked behind him and back in front with worry as he contemplated taking them on.
But before he could get ready, one of the muggers struck him in the head and at the back that caused Nat to fall down and get beaten up by all of them in a dogpile. They laughed and snickered, feeling himself belittled and unworthy. He defended his head the best he could, bracing blow after blow with grinning teeth, with every hit given him a flashback of Sivvy's disgust, and the words Thana printed out in the magazine months ago. He screamed in agony and rage. Everything was a blur to him. And before he knew it, the muggers had taken everything from him. His phone, wallet, even his boots which was the last piece of the armor he had left, all gone and Nat had to walk back to his apartment barefooted, with torn clothes. Yet he did not walk back in defeat, he walked back as if he had found a new purpose in life. His steps were hurried and firm, as well as his opening of the door and grabbing of his sword. He placed it on his back and turned to face the mirror, his bruised face starring back at him with unholy eyes, ironically filled with blinding rage as blood continued to trickle down at the side of his face from his forehead. He was out for blood.
The following night, Nat tracked down the same group of muggers that had overpowered him before. They were up to his usual tricks of cornering someone in an alley way and he was waiting by a window from up above. But before they could strike at their victim, Nat leaped down and ran his sword through one of them, before slashing it out to behead another. Everyone was stunned for a moment, butt Nat only kept murdering every single one of them until they finally had the sense to grab whatever they could from the civilian and run away. Nat followed closely behind, tracking them down through the back allies where these ruffians crawled out of. The met up with a few more of their group warning them of the swordsman that killed four of their comrades.
Having been made aware of the situation, one of the criminals ordered some of them to keep watch as he tried go through their group's collection and split it up accordingly and to be sold, much like items Nat possessed yesterday, he assumed. As they were counting it out, a head rolled up to the leg of the table that alerted the group to point their weapons at the direction it came from. The muggers said that Nat had come, and he was there in the shadows, ready to systematically thin the herd. He started by sneaking behind the one farthest from the group, dragging him back in the shadows where he began chopping him up. The slow reaction of the the criminals, meant that when they shot at that direction, their muzzle flashes would only reveal a desecrated corpse of what used to be one of them. Fear began to take hold of them now as their hands were shaking as they held their weapons, and their eyes frantically shifting to every direction, not taking a chance to miss Nat in their vision, with the worst of them taking steps back as it proved that one misstep would lead to their deaths.
Among them, a man had stepped on a trap Nat had laid just moments ago, that would rappel him up near a balcony in the shadows. When the trap was sprung, a scream was heard, and abruptly stopped as the man sank into the shadows. Everything was quite once more and the entire scene held its breath. But as soon as the thunder rumbled and the lightning flashed, they would bear witness to a very angry Nat hold the man who been caught in the trap's upper body, tossing it towards them before he leapt. The body proved to be quite the distraction as it provided enough time to kill everyone except one grunt who was literally pissing his pants at this point, afraid to even do anything except murmur to himself. Once he had composed himself, he would see the bodies of his comrades strewn about, with some items missing and the words "Justice has come" written with the blood of the dead.
Lightning would flash once more, this time bringing rain with it, and revealed a cloaked Nathaniel, wearing his old armored boots and holding his blade, looking down upon him from the top of the building nearby, prompting him to run. Afterwards, Nat, looked at his other hand that held the belongings of this night's would-be victim. He returned to the scene of the crime and dropped them at the civilian's feet, but not before taking a few bucks to fend for himself for the coming days. The civilian looked around for Nat but to no avail, the shadows has once again covered him.
This string of attacks on criminals, huge or small has been made frequent in the next two weeks that even the authorities of the Neutral Grounds has taken notice however not condoning his actions, stating that he was much a criminal as the people he has killed thus earning him his spot in their most wanted, and Nat's constant hiding in rooftops at night, with a cloak on. Waiting for more people to hunt and for the person who bought Nat's stolen phone.