[System]
Nicknames:
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Weapon Type: Dual Daggers

Appearance:

Personality: One of Akira's main traits is what appears to be a chosen anti-social front. He'll tend to give those he doesn't know the cold shoulder whilst treating those he does more warmly. Not exactly a man of many words he actively avoids becoming the centre of a group discussion contributing to extent which would be considered a fair effort and then withdrawing.

His lack of social ability yielded few friends or enemies. Akira had a lack of desire to make an effort, believed to be a direct result of the incident that occurred, what was a natural laid back attitude had developed into something much worse.

Given his past Akira had ultimately nurtured a depressed nature. One that had overpowered him heavily, the new surrounding of Inaba only escalating its longevity. Although it would appear Akira was beyond the mourning stage it was clearly evident that any smile that he experienced was somewhat forced. Although his depression was not over the top displayed, adapting a rather neutral appearance to the outside world.

Biography:

Akira grew up as an only child with a very limited number of friends. As such his social skills were mediocre at the best of time though he managed to forge some friendships in his life, his social group consisting of small numbers closely knit, a group where everyone knew everyone. It would be safe to say that Akira was content with this level of social activity. His social skills seemed to reflect his academia, an average student though not from a lack of trying. His grades at his schools steadily improved over the years.

However fate can sometimes be cruel. By the time Akira had turned 14 and was beginning to make progress with academically and socially a road traffic accident claimed the life of both his parents. At that time it was the only true meaningful relationship, at least to Akira, that he had. Their deaths hit Akira hard and he withdrew himself from society and his grades quickly plummeted. It was believed to be what was a typical response to a time of mourning.

Akira didn't have any local family and was ultimately taken in by his Uncle and Aunt who lived in Inaba. They believed that given time Akira would come out of his shell, welcoming the change and rejoin society. It would prove true that the opposite was true, having now lived in Inaba for a full year Akira had failed to make friends in his new environment and was just barely making the grades to prevent any halts in his yearly school process.

Now in this environment, no friends and no desire to make them it would appear Akira would remain a social recluse. He attended a school where the most he knew of his fellow students was their names. He delved not to joining clubs but instead into reading, using books as an excuse to stay away from others during breaks. This would be his life from now on, or so he thought. For Akira had no idea what the near future would bring his way, and the impact it would have on him.

Arcana: Death

Persona: Volkran - A black feathered winged humanoid. His wings are tattered in appearance and his arms are chained across his body. An open gash in the Persona's forehead reveals a trail of blood running down the side of its face. A representative of Akira's current situation and the feeling deep down that there is no escape from what he feels.

Skills:
Agi
Skewer

[User]
Tomomi Katayama

Tomomi found herself sat down next to Akira. Eh, there were worse people, but he'd never really interested her. She needed excitement, drama, stuff happening! The quiet, reserved type wasn't really her thing, so she doubted she'd have a good conversation with him. Glancing over at him, she sighed. They hadn't talked much, and she really felt like she wasn't the problem here. To be fair, Tomomi never figured she was the problem, and other people often disagreed on that.

"Cheerful as ever, aren't you?" she said, rolling her eyes, then continuing to speak, determined to get a reply. "Geez, never thought I'd actually want the principal to start talking... Do you ever like, smile at people or anything?" she said, poking Akira in the shoulder.

So she was being a little snide, but the dude needed to cheer up a bit! As irritating as Tomomi had been told she could be, at least she didn't mope about looking like someone spat in her breakfast all day. As she waited for the principal to figure out how to work the microphone, or just figure out how to talk louder, she started drumming her feet on the ground impatiently.

[Assistant] "You're new too? Where are you from?" Will asked as he offered his hand out for a handshake with a smile. "My name is Will. Nice too meet you." he asked simply with a friendly tone. He wondered if this girl was from somewhere in Japan or if she was a foreigner like him. He doubted it because otherwise he probably would've met her already. In all honestly Will hoped she was nice. That boy from earlier that sat next to him in class was a bit rude and it put him off meeting other new people. Heero would probably badger him too meet new people eventually anyway. He may as well try to at least reach out to some people. "I'm from the USA. A transfer program."

[User]
Akira had been trying his best to continue in his usual state of keeping himself to himself. But there was at least one person who could never let that happen, and that one person happened to be sat next to him. Akira a social recluse, sat next to Tomomi, a person who doesn't seem to be able to sit in silence for longer than a few seconds. It would be fair to say they were almost complete opposites in terms of socialising. Then the inevitable, Tomomi trying to strike up conversation, she really must be bored. Akira tried to ignore it but the Tomomi began to poke him, so he turned his head to look at her. Maybe he could humour her on this one occasion.

"Only when they're not trying to annoy me." Akira responded to her second remark. "I'm simply expressing how I feel. You on the other hand would transmit cheer, despite being in this cage we call 'School', which we both know you hate." Akira raised an eyebrow as if to imply it was Tomomi's behaviour, if either of theirs that was strange. Unsure of whether or not the conversation would continue, Akira turned back to face the front of the hall. He shook his head as the principle continued to struggle. "So..." Akira spoke again out of boredom to pass the time. "How often are we going to be seeing you this year? Because I'm somewhat intrigued as to know about this 'last time' and I'm sure your telling of it will be the most... interesting." Akira finished with a small smirk which, as usual didn't last for very long. If anyone was gonna throw a dramatic twist on a story it would be Tomomi... then again if anyone was going to tell the story at all, again it would probably be Tomomi. With a lack of a desk to tap on, Akira merely resorted to tapping on his own legs as he awaited to hear Tomomi's response.

This day felt strange, Akira did not normally feel so inclined to talk and interact with other people. Under different circumstances it was highly unlikely that he would, the person sitting the other side of Akira was living proof of that as the student fidgeted awkwardly in silence beside him. Students had gotten used to not speaking to Akira and him not speaking back, unless of course they were new, like the transfer student and the girl from earlier. Then again the other option was to be stubborn, like Tomomi, or you could just simply be looking to be a dick... Shiro.

[Assistant]
Minto Hanataba

"Yup. I am from to...Tokyo." He replied as he thought about where he used to live. He only ever gotten to explore the treats when he got better and there was still so much more to see. Even though Tokyo was so busy and constantly moving there was something there he still missed. Maybe it was the busy street of Shibuya, sure it was fast but he like the parks and the fashion there. He wasn't sure what he missed but maybe later he can find out about it. Then he was surprised to find out that Will is from America, the country of freedom as would some book say and boy he always wonder what it would be like to move to another country and see the culture there. "Oh you are from America, that is really cool. Oh right, I-I am Minto or call me Mint" He shook Will's hand slowly and gave out a small but cheerful smile. Will seems very friendly guy, also nervous too like him. Maybe they could end up as friends that would be nice....

[User]
Tomomi Katayama

Yup, definitely as friendly as ever. At least he was talking, which was better than she'd expected originally. Of course, he was right in saying she hated school, but missing the point a little. "Mandatory attendance. I'd rather try and be cheerful about it instead of moping all day like some people." she shrugged, with a pointed look at Akira.

Anyway, Akira wanted to know about the disappearances? Never let it be said that Tomomi passed up a storytelling opportunity. She'd have to go with the short version. "Well, there were a couple of murders back then, as you'll have guessed. Unlike most stuff, though, the police had no idea what was going on. Town'd get foggy, and then a body'd appear in some weird messed-up position." she shrugged. "Most people didn't really pay that much attention, but I did - spent the whole year payin' attention to anything wierd in town - and..." she lowered her voice so people couldn't hear her.

"See the ones that got killed? Lotta people don't realise they weren't the only ones to disappear. A ton of people did, not getting kidnapped all dramatically, just one minute they were there, the next they were gone. Like magic. Shazam." she made a motion with her hands, mimicking a puff of smoke. "Those ones came back though. All got weirdly pally, too." she shrugged. To be honest, very few people had been paying anywhere near as much attention as Tomomi. She was the only one that was bored enough to get quite that fixated on a case she wasn't involved in.

"Took the police a year to figure anything out - they tried saying the case was closed like twice before they found the real culprit. And the kicker? Guy was one of their own detectives! Right under their noses, for a whole year. Can ya blame me for being a bit sceptical about what the Inaba Police Department got to say?" Tomomi sighed, shaking her head, feeling like she'd made her point.

[Assistant] "I guess...not really too special to me. Then again I'm the foreigner aren't I?" said Will with a slightly more confident smile as he tapped his leg and fidgeted in place a little. "Anyways though...It's nice to meet you Mint. I'm Heero's friend my name is Will. So how is it in Tokyo? Is it busier than this small town? I come from a suburban area so...uh...I'm...I'm kind of use to this size of a school." Will asked trying to think of something, anything, to say other than to jabber on about nothing but in all honesty he couldn't think of anything. Deciding that it was better to just keep going with what he had he tried to talk over the crowd of kids mumbling all around him. "Back at my school everyone's actually louder than this. This is my first time since middle school that I had to go to a ceremony like this for opening day." Will said with a forced chuckle as he groaned and shook his head. "Sorry...I honestly have no idea what to say." Will said being completely honest with Minto. He wondered if this was just digging his already sizable hole bigger no one liked weirdos.

[User]
Minto Hanataba

"Oh okay, yup...people keep on going and going...its fast...though..." Mint wasn't really sure, he did spend most of his time on the bed and not wandering around the city or going with friends like any kid would do. Sure last minute he got a chance to do so but again it was last minute. He prefer Inaba really, it was more his pace and peaceful even though there are kidnappings happening he doesn't feel scared about it, surely the police can handle it fine. "Were they really louder than this? This is actually my first time at all like this, I didn't go to school before, home schooled you know... but it must be nice though going to school...its exciting." He smiled with a content look on his face, he was glad to go to school finally he really wanted to before and now he was there.

Then Will apologized for not having an idea what to say, Mint let out a small giggle. He didn't know what to say too! "Me too, well since y-you are new have you explored the town yet? I haven't yet and since the school wants us to well walk by pairs or groups want to go explore town too?" He asked him, it would be a good way to get to know him more and maybe become friends. He didn't feel that nervous now though there is that lingering feeling in his stomach it wasn't bad as before, he will get use to this.

[Assistant]
Tomomi was right of course, but trying to be cheerful really felt like a distant objective than a local one for Akira. "Well... if I ever find a reason to be cheerful I'm sure you'll be the first to know." Akira said shaking his head softly before listening to what Tomomi had to say about the events of Inaba's past. It was definitely a strange set of events and the story just seemed to get even weirder as it progressed. Dead bodies showing up on Foggy days, surely mere coincidence no? Well he could only guess that was the case having not been in the town at the time. "So even this small rural town has death rotting at it's very core eh?" Akira spoke quietly it was more to himself then it was to Tomomi 'Just like me...' he thought before noticing the story was still going.

As the story went on it seemed Tomomi was getting into the idea of telling it with choice words and motions. Akira smirked slightly but decided to remain quiet listening intently until the stories eventual conclusion of the events. A cop who had turned to murder, and the local police force inability to see through whatever guise that cop was portraying to them. It would seem Tomomi would be correct in doubting their abilities following that turn of events, who wouldn't? "I guess not." The idea of a rhetorical question lost on Akira as he answered Tomomi's last point. "I'd be careful about that middle part if I were you though. Other people might start thinking you're some kind of crazy conspiracy girl. By the sounds of whats going on around town, you probably don't want that kind of attention."

Akira turned back to face the front of the hall once more and began tapping his legs once more. "ehh... anyway... um... thanks, I guess." Akira speaks his last piece as a small smile grows and then fades away. They hadn't really conversed much, Tomomi had done most of the talking, yet Akira already felt socially exhausted. He wasn't exactly just going to outright blank her, but it was evident that he wasn't actively pursuing any extended conversation beyond what had already been said.


[System]
* Age: 22
* Gender: Male
* Race: Human
* Appearance:
* Personality: Gillian values honesty, simplicity and trust. All of which he feels are impossible to find in any sufficiently large group of people. A loner by necessity and by nature, he prefers not to speak too much, especially on matters of nobility. He can be very defensive when dealing with intimate issues (or those dealing with his condition), and as such avoids them as much as possible except with those he considers close friends. What few friends he keeps are treated to a watchfulness most attack dogs would envy and the occasional stroke of melancholic humor when he's in his more 'peppy' moments.

He is a loyal knight to his core, and believes in the mission of the Iron Rose Knights with a fervor approaching fanaticism. However, he openly dislikes the glamour in which they operate. The opulent ceremonies and the relic of a tradition for choosing their captains put more at risk than it was worth. A shiny set of armor and a parade with a beautiful young girl might make the population feel better, but it won't help the village razed by orcs while the knights sat polishing their boots and wallowing in the nostalgia of their roots. As such he can seem a bit of a hard liner when it comes to dealing with enemies of Thaln and is not known for his patience (or mercy). His tolerance for magic users is especially low, distrusting them intensely, even those trained in the Mage College.
* Brief Backstory: Gillian was born in the township of La Reine, located on the Velt-Thaln boarder just off a rarely traveled caravan trail. The only truly notable thing about it was the local superstition that a powerful witch resided in the local woods, His parents were both local hunters, trading much needed food and pelts to travelers and locals during the winter months. It was a quiet place to grow up, much of the day spent hunting or practicing with the town militia (which consisted of little more than a few men armed with make shift spears). For the first fourteen years of his life, Gillian faced few hurtles aside from the normal trials of a rural hunter and the occasional disorganized Orc warband attempting a raid.
In the fall of his fifteenth year, a small caravan accompanied by a squad of Iron Rose Knights rolled into town. Their commanding officer, Seigward Parnella, was investigating reports that the local orc bands had gone utterly quiet. The people of La Reine, Gillian included, were eager to believe the Orcs had simply vanished, removing the one few dark marks against their sequestered home. Parnella was less naïvely optimistic, ordering his squad to occupy the town. Parnella's suspicions held true and within the week the town was under siege by an impressive warband, seemingly brought together by an ambitious and skilled young Orc. The Knights, even while bolstered by the town militia, could barely hold back the attack. Being young and untrained, Gillian broke rank quickly, fleeing into the forest, seeking sanctuary in an abandoned shack deep in the heart of the forest. He soon discovered that he was followed by an orc on boarback, who hunted the boy seemingly for the pure sport of it, side swiping his prey and letting his boards tusk slowly gore the young man. After many wild helpless wings, he eventually managed to land a blow on the rider's saddle, sending the orc tumbling over the side of his awkward to the merciless hooves that awaited him below. As the Orc lay dead or dying, the cripple Gillian limped onward to the shack, still intent on hiding until the attack subsided.

Just when the shack was a blurry dot on the horizon and he could feel to his wounds edging him ever closer to death, an odd woman stepped from behind a tree branch, offering to save his life in exchange for a favor to be called on at a later date. In no condition to question her motives nor caring too deeply about them at the moment, he accepted hastily. He only had time to watch as the woman called over a lumbering antlered figure, which loomed over him for a moment before unconciounsness took him. He awoke among the smoldering remains of his village, his arm replaced with some eldritch approximation of magically grafted flesh and bone and the orc band seemingly repelled. The victory was not without cost and much of the village, Gillian's family included, lay dead at its heart. What few were left turned on him quickly, blaming the 'demon child' for the attack.
Parnella and the remaining knights quickly took charge of the situation, claiming the boy as his squire (for his safety and the safety of the villagers if their suspicions proved true). The village was soon abandoned, the remaining villagers heading north to Velt and the knights and their new ward lingered a while, hoping to find the wayward caster and undo the bargain. Though their search yeilded no witch, it gave time for the squadrons resident caster to determine the nature of the arm. A construct, forged by a demon (through some obscured or lost article of magical craft) summoned or accompanying the witch. Parnella eventually convinced the boy to move on, after nearly a week of scouring the forest for the woman, but allowed him to remain with the squadron while he searched for answers on the road. For a while he was a squire in name only, Parnella initially only intending on keeping the boy around until Gillian could be freed of the bizarre addition. However as the months began to stretch, the elder knight found himself occupying the boys time with training more and more, if only to shield him from the reality that his situation might be permanent. At the very least, this way the aging knight could provide him with a chance to do some real good. On the dawn of his eighteenth year, Parnella asked Gillian to formally join the order, to which he agreed. Soon though Parnella's age began to show and he could no longer handle the physical demands of Knighthood and was forced to retire to Thaln's capital and disband his squad. Gillian attempted to stay with his mentor, but quickly found himself chaffing under the obligations expected of a knight in polite society as well as the hesitation of some of his commanding officers who knew of his condition. Deciding he was not welcome, nor wished to stay, in the capital he has since adopted a more mercenary method of performing his knightly duties, joining with squadrons short of hands in remote regions or on jobs ranging from too trivial to suicidal in exchange for basic living expenses or information on sightings of constructs similar to his.
* Equipment:
Armor: Being fairly poor in comparison to many of the knights with who he travels, Gillian's armor is a bit of a hodge podge. While it is all well fitted, it largely consists of old leather armor, with modest amounts of chainmail and the odd piece of plate to supplement weaker areas. While it offers more mobility and reduced weight, it sadly lacks the greater amounts of protection a proper suit could afford.
 Boar Spear:  Primary weapon of choice.
 Kite Shield:  Guaranteed to probably block fatal stabbings or your blood back.
 Broadsword:  Used in conjunction with the shield for when spear is too unwieldly for the area.
 The Demon's arm:  A magical prosthetic that has taken the place of Gillian's original arm, constructed through an arcane process not as yet fully understood. Its aesthetics are dark and insectoid, black chitinous plates interconnected with ghostly blue membrane beneath. It is slightly more durable than the average arm, thanks to the natural armor, though Gillian is in no rush to test its limits. It can act as a catalyst for casting a limited number of spells, though weather this is a function included for some agenda of the witch or the whimsy of the demon who created is not clear.
* Skills:

Gillian is a capable hunter and tracker, having spent many years as a furrier in his youth. There are few Knights of the order who can track a bleeding Orc from a day old trail in the wilds of Thaln, and Gillian is one of those proud few.
Gillian works best as a support fighter, being lightly armored in comparison to many other knights. While he can handle himself in a one on one fight, he prefers to circle around opponents distracted by comrades, harassing them from a safe distance and creating opening.
Demon Arm spells Known:
  Griffe longue:  Fires a projectile of white hot energy which stabs into the target before dissipating.
 Larmes:  Places a sigil on another creature for 12 hours. Sigil oozes harmless, but highly luminescent, fluid constantly for the duration. Sigil can be removed with any commonly available method of removing minor curses.
  Le Bras du Géants:  Increases the strength of the arm itself for a few moments. He can easily crush stone in his grip while this is active. However, only the arms strength is affected. While the arm might be able to palm a large stone with no issue, he would sooner throw out his back than be able to lift it.
  Le Vrai Nom:  Allows Gillian to disguise his arm as human. Works for less than two hours a day at maximum and prevents the casting of any other spells while it is active.

[User]
Iowerth Rhydderch

A listless whistle filled the air as another rider entered the battlefield from the rear. Sir Iowerth, as he was formally called, had been put in charge of the rear guard for this "expedition". Or rather, this training exercise, considering the number of recruits who were still green. This was their vanguard? They may only be fighting bandits, but it seemed like a very convenient way to get the new Captain killed. Then again, considering the discontent surrounding her appointment whispered about in the ranks, it may have very well been deliberate.

He suspected, taking stock of the bodies lying around and the relative lack of injury among their own forces, that the soldiers these bandits beat were merely recruits as well. It wouldn't surprise him if the army had seen it as a training exercise, and simply bit off more than it could chew. A few lies later to save face, and suddenly it was seasoned veterans the bandits had beaten and now it was a problem for the Iron Rose.

What a pain in the ass.

While initially he was going to report directly to the Captain, she appeared to have a crowd demanding her attention. Instead, he made his way to Sir Aethlemund, trying to ignore the smell of the man that had been cut in half as he did so. This was far from the first field of battle he had been on, but that didn't mean bodies smelled like roses to him. Still, he felt no sympathy for the dead men, nor for the prisoners that were also likely to die. They had chosen their path in life, and should have no quarrel about their fate. Iolyn would just as soon kill them now, save a trip back to the city that would end in their execution anyway, but that was not his decision to make.

When he reached the grizzled veteran, Iolyn gave a nod to Phillin before leaning in close.

"Our flanks are secure, I've passed command to Sir Bernhard, we both know he could use the extra experience."

His small report finished, the man drew back to give the Captain some space. The two had already been introduced, and he had nothing of dire importance to tell her. His eyes flicked to Sir Garrett briefly, considering taking a moment to catch up with the man. They had joined only a couple years apart, and had participated in many of the same engagements together. Instead, he drew up beside Tyaethe, raising an eyebrow at the spear running through her abdomen.

"Showing off again, Lady Tyaethe? We should probably be demonstrating to these recruits how not to be stuck with weapons. You know, for educational purposes."

He was quite sure the immortal woman hated him, at least he had no reason to suspect otherwise. The thing about being hundreds of years old is that you tend to know things that happened in history. As such, Iolyn had tried to interview her at every opportunity, at least outside of the battlefield. His latest tactic had been to try and get her to relax with a game of chess, which he had heard the woman knew how to play, but his efforts so far had been fruitless. Whether that was because she simply never relaxed, or avoided him, was something he had yet to find out.

Daze@Zebanamana@Themerlinhawk

[User]
Gillian eyed the young captain from his seat on one of the supply wagons, mild irritation only thinly veiled. "She is very much the beauty, no?" Klien asked next to him, voice tittering with no small amount of pride. Klien was a short, chubby man of a ruddy complexion who was cheerful to the point of excess, who made no small secret of his joy to work with the Knights of the Iron Rose. A friend of Gillian's from his youth, having aided the elder man in various escort missions while under Parnella. It was him who had told the knight of the expedition and brought him aboard as a guard for the supply wagon. Neither man were expecting the trip to yield much beyond long talks on the slow march. …well, Klien talked, Gillian brooded.

"…for a child twenty years your junior, yes." Gillian huffed, suitably unimpressed. Klien bristled, his vicarious pride wounded. "Come now!" he retorted, "You were no older when you began your days under Seigward! That's reason enough to trust her leadership, even without the fates backing her right to the rank!"
"As a squire, not a knight." Gillian reminds his friend curtly. "Never once have I held a position of command in the four years I served in that station nor in the four years hence my acceptance into the order proper. And thank Mayon's breasts that it was so, given the fool decisions of children."

Klien gives up at that, refusing to have his mood soured by his brooding companion. He returns his gaze back to the Captain and her associates. "…Care to make a wager?" the elder asks. "…I had thought you'd ceased that habit." Gillian says, watching as Fanilly gives her orders to Eadwig, Radastirin, and a brown haired young man who he did not recognize. "Only for pleasure. This is a matter of duty!" the older man says, his ringing with enthusiasm. "Half the wages this campaign that the captain can prove she is worthy of her rank."
Gillian snorts, watching as the forces begin to slowly shift into four teams, likely for an all sides attack. "Were there the opportunity. My job is to guard you and your wagon, remember. Here. In the back. Away from her commands or much the battle."

"There are other guards." Klien retorts. "Go join her charge. If nothing else, you will be right and all the richer for it." Gillian thinks for a moment before hopping off the cart. "Very well. But if I have but a single doubt of the girl, you lose. Agreed?" he says as he adjusts his gear and pulls his spear from the back of the wagon. "Agreed!" Klien chirps, waving as his friend walks away.

As he approaches a man with an air that made Gillian uneasy approached the young maiden. "Apologies for my lateness, Captain. I pray nobody is in need of a doctors aid just yet?"  He pauses for a moment, examining the still gored banditry not far away. "….I believe a few of them may have wished to have a word with you." He says, taking a position behind the man and a hooded knight whose posterior was…strangely waggy. He gives a half hearted salute to Fanilly. "Gillian Raynaud, at your service Captain Danbalion"


[System]
Theme:

Gender:
Male

Species:
Rat-Man (Immature)

Appearance:

(Rather than a dark brown, the fur is still a bluish-gray and his eyes are still similar but a lighter shade of brown.)

Goals:
-Discover and explore this strange world.
-Find Answers why he was summoned.
-(Bonus) Get back home.

Past Life:

Ed is determined, intelligent, kind, but is perhaps a little too trusting. This is to be expected from somebody with his position. He was born in a middle-class family in some nondescript town. Life was uneventful for most of his early life. He was doing very well in his primary and secondary education and was on his way to getting his degree. He had a good number of close friends, and his family was quite proud of him and his achievements. Life was good and his future was a bright one, and whatever hardships or problems he encountered, he faced with a positive outlook that he could overcome it. He lived with little worry until he was about 20 years old, at that point, life changed. During a pub crawl in celebration of his friend's recent graduation, a simple misunderstanding with other patrons in the pub turned into a heated argument that transformed into a violent brawl. Ed managed to hold his own during the fight, but barely had any time to react when a forceful blow with a stool hit him in the back of the head. Ed dropped like a sack of bricks and that was the end of him.

Abilities

* Alert I (1.35)
	+ -Though this skill is limited by the strength of your senses and does not sharpen your senses on its own, it allows you to become more aware of your surroundings. Without conscious effort, you will pick up on signs in your environment more easily, especially if they present some form of danger to you. Essentially this is an anti-ambush skill.
* Beast Sense II (2.95)
	+ - I (A bundle skill applying to all physical senses) - Starting skill.
	+ II (Passive sensory range increased. By actively focusing on one (1) sense, you can further increase that sense's sharpness.)
* Dynamic Eye (1.15)
	+ - A Special Vision skill, Dynamic Eye expends Stamina to allow the user to sharpen their kinetic vision. For a single instant, time seems to slow, granting better reactions against incoming attacks--especially projectiles traveling over a distance--or allowing the user to better respond to other things. At this Rank, however, no other Skill can be used in conjunction with Dynamic Eye if it is not a pre-established passive skill, such as using a buff beforehand. It uses much more Stamina than one might expect.
* Rabid Fit (2.1)
	+ - I Fly into a mindless rage, and destroy the enemy! A sudden burst of fury grants you increased strength and damage, but you'll become more vulnerable to damage yourself.
	+ - II Your rage grows in strength! Your attack power increases slightly more. While you are still extra vulnerable to damage, you gain a temporary increase to resistances for certain status effects, like Sleep or Confusion.
* Smash (1.6)
	+ - A Physical Skill that consumes Stamina instead of MP. One blunt type attack deals increased damage.
* Warcry (1.05)
	+ - A mighty battlecry that focuses all attention towards you.
* Breath Control (1.0)
	+ - I Through cardiovascular exercise and breathing techniques, the efficiency of your lungs has increased. You can hold your breath for longer, and breathe more steadily even under great effort or stress. Stamina usage for most physical Skills is reduced for one minute after this Skill is used. If this skill is used after a battle, Stamina restoration is sped up for one minute.
* Harder (1.0)
	+ - Clenched muscles or hardened flesh can be an effective shield--your base defensive stats increase! By gaining at least one rank in Faster, Stronger, and Better, Skill Synergy will occur to increase the rank of Physical Conditioning.
* Faster (1.1)
	+ - Your base physical speed is increased! By gaining the skills Harder, Better, and Stronger, Skill Synergy will occur and you will gain one rank of Physical Conditioning.
* Stronger (2.725)
	+ - Your base physical strength is increased. Gaining: Harder, Better, and Faster, to gain 1 rank of Physical Conditioning.
	+ - II Further increase your base physical strength.
* Muffle (2.45)
	+ - I Sneaking is easier and you are harder to detect while sneaking.
	+ - II You are now even more effective at remaining unseen passively. Activating this skill by using Stamina will noticeably reduce, but not eliminate, the sounds of your movement.
* Use Light Equipment (--)
	+ - You can use small tools, and lighter forms of armor, weaponry, and other items.
* Use Medium Equipment (--)
	+ - Use equipment that, by comparison to your own body, could be considered medium in weight or size.
* Dexterous (1.55)
	+ - Your practice with fine manipulation and using your fore-paws, as well as the natural physical strength of a Dire Rat, has earned an unusual skill for your species! Your paws can now be used to manipulate small objects and tools, though you still aren't strong enough yet to "wield" weapons or pick up very large things.
* Monster Analysis (1.7)
	+ - Gain basic biological information about a monster by actively observing it.
* Magic Analysis (1.0)
	+ - You may now analyze magical energies or objects to learn their most basic magical characteristics. Less effective on Materials and Monsters unless they are magical in nature.
* Overwork (1.55)
	+ - Push through, break the limit, and--probably need a nap later. Expend Stamina to increase physical abilities. At this Rank, skill auto-cancels when Stamina is empty.
* Mental Resistance (1.1)
	+ - Take less damage from Psychic-type spells or skills, and have a better chance of resisting mind-altering effects such as Confusion or Hypnosis. This counts as an Elemental resistance for the purposes of Magic Resistance.
* Focus (1.0)
	+ - By spending at least 30 seconds focusing before using an offensive Skill or Spell, you can increase its damage or range. At this rank, it is comparable to increasing the power by one rank (eg Mana Orb I to Mana Orb II) while also increasing the MP cost by half again (spend 1.5x Mana Orb I's cost)
* Mana Strike (1.0)
	+ - I Infuse a physical attack with non-elemental Magic to increase its damage. The attack's physical type of damage is unaffected, but Magic damage is simply added. Thus a creature with Slash Resistance would still take the Magic Damage if this Skill were used with a sword. Like Mana Orb, this technique is malleable and often a starting point for other forms of enchanting skills.
* Point Strike (1.0)
	+ - I With a discerning eye, take aim at an opponent's weak point and concentrate your own power into a single point of attack. Slightly increase the power of any attack, and gain an increased chance for a Critical Hit. Using this Skill in conjunction with other attack Skills, however, may cause it to lose effectiveness.
* Strengthen (1.0)
	+ - I Using magical energy channeled through your muscles, temporarily increase your base physical strength! Though it consumes more mana than many other beginner spells, its boost is equivalent to the passive skill Stronger I. At this Rank, this skill lasts roughly one minute.

<UNUSABLE SKILLS>
* Material Analysis (0.6)
* Tremor Sense (0.05)
* Telepathy (0.2)
* Mana Shape (0.8)
* Shield (0.5)
* Mana Shell (0.5)
* Soil Manipulation (0.7)
* Crafting (0.8)
* First Aid (0.1)
* Meditate (0.5)
* People Sense (0.4)
* Plant Analysis (0.2)
* Swift Swimmer (0.4)
* Charm (0.05)
* Repel (0.025)
* Stealth Kill (0.3)
* Blunt Resistance (0.1)
* Prehensile Tail (0.6)
* Minor Heal (0.05)
* Iron Gullet (0.4)
* Taming (0.2)
* Suppress Presence (0.6)
* Inspire (0.3)
* Pierce Resistance (0.2)
* Double Skill (0.1)
* Deception (0.3)
* Lucid Dream (0.2)
* Stone Shot (0.05)
* Mana Sense (0.1)
* Flame Aura (0.1)
* Guidance (0.2)
* Intimidation (0.2)
* Charisma (0.3)
* Slash (0.1)
* Cleave (0.2)
* Blood Drain (0.1)
* Spiritual Awareness (0.1)
* Sensory Resistance (0.1)
* Fire Resistance (0.05)

<UNUSABLE SKILLS>

Transformations:
Dire Rat >>> Rat-Man

Inventory:
-Gnarled Stick
-Vine Belt (Contains Items)

[User]
Asura didn't feel any different nor was there a system message about what he was trying to do. Then again the system only really told him when he was tired, when he got a skill, or when he leveled up. Reaching over he touched Momma Slime. Ration it. Don't eat all at once. Hungry later, food later. He thought to her. Since he was finally low on stamina he decided to give Overwork a try.

Abandoning Rattleskull's corpse, by moving roughly ten feet from it, he tried clinging to the wall. He knew Cling would be stamina based, he had specifically gone out of his way to avoid all magic. While he was attempting to stick to the wall he used a pseudo pod to lift up a rather large stone. How would a slime get Stronger? No time like the present to lift heavy rocks to try and somehow work out. Maybe his membrane was just one big muscle?

Well he'd find out. Specifically by 'curling' the pseudopod holding the rock. Considering he had no fingers he just fully enveloped the large stone. Holding it as tight as he could while making it go up and down. Hopefully working twice as fast and Overworking himself just like he had as a human. Always pushing the limit at work.

[Assistant]
---

@Duthguy@Searat@King Cosmos@Silverpaw@Gardevoiran@Old Amsterdam

What Jason had learned from the core was interesting to say the least, but right now fixing this so-called 'Mana Burn' took priority. Perhaps there was more than just a dungeon menu, was there a status and skill progression screen as well? Probably. "Display status.... Open Skill progression...." he mumbled as he rolled out of his cave and approached the others once more, Jason reached out with [Telepathy II], 'Alright everyone, I've just learned some pretty interesting information.... From the looks of it, the core has been spawning the Skeleblins in response to what it perceives as an attack. Now what it's most likely referring to is Digbie's tunneling endeavor-- and thus is probably targeting him. So far, three Skeleblins have been spawned and one has been killed by Oberon. While you guys are on your way out I'm going to see what I can do to make the dungeon stop targeting you... One more thing- would any of you happen to know how to fix something called Mana Burn?'

As he waited for a response, Jason scanned the newly evolved Rain and Oberon with [Magic Analysis I] and [Monster Analysis I]

[User]
As Ed consumed the leaf, his body reacted positively to the plant. He could feel some sort of healing done as the leaf did a faction of what the whole plant could do. Bruises ached significantly less, his cuts and burns were mending slowly, and all in all, he felt better than before. The young dire rat then consumed the whole plant and felt his injuries heal rapidly. At the end of the brief moment the strange magics of the healing herb, Ed nodded in understanding. The herb has potent healing properties and when consumed, activates the said healing properties. Though it did heal his body, it did not restore the fatigue he was feeling from the lack of rest. 'I can rest later.' Ed told himself as he readied himself to escort his comrades to the cave entrance.

It wasn't an actual necessity that they be escorted through the cave; as the trio could probably handle any monsters the cave had to throw at them, Ed assumed. Though the gesture enough would hopefully be perceived as a display of good faith to them. Strengthening existing relations, as well as opening possibilities for future cooperation. Giving himself one last stretch to limber up his body for the task at hand, he waits for a signal from the group he is accompanying to notify him that they were ready to go. Jason then spoke to them telepathically. "Interesting, but I have no idea what mana burn is. Though I'll protect them to the best of my ability."

LVL: 5
HP: Healthy
SP: Slightly Tired [DRAINING]
MP: Full

Effect/s: Muddy

SKILLS:

Unspent Skill Points: 12
Current Skills:
Beast Sense I (1.6)
Rabid Fit I (1.2)
Stronger I (1.05)
Muffle I (1.0)
__________________________________
<UNUSABLE SKILLS>
SKILL PROGRESS:
Material Analysis (0.2)
Magic Analysis (0.6)
Monster Analysis (0.6)
Faster (0.4)
Warcry (0.1)
Alert (0.3)
Dextrous (0.6)
Tremor Sense (0.025)
Mental Resistance (0.9)
Telepathy (0.075)
Mana Shape (0.6)
Focus (0.6)
Shield (0.5)
Mana Shell (0.3)
Soil Manipulation (0.45)
Overwork (0.5)
Harder (0.2)
Crafting (0.25)
First Aid (0.1)
Meditate (0.3)
<UNUSABLE SKILLS>

Inventory:
-Lizard Stomach Water skin x 1 [Very Worn] ; (Filled with 10 mana crystals)

Ed learns the effect of the healing herb after consuming it and feeling its effect.
Limbered up to prepare for the trek to the main cave entrance and back again.
Still going to escort the three through the cave as a display of friendliness and trust.


[System]
Age: 15
Sex: Male
Hair: Auburn. Couple inches long, tends to curl out as it grows.
Eye: Greenish, though they're discolored like fogged glass, indicating his blindness. If you're up-close in his face, you can notice the bright amber limbal rings around his eyes, rune-scribing that marks him as an Astral Conduit.

Family: Morgen has a twin sister named Morwen, and five younger siblings who he hasn't seen in two years. His younger siblings and parents are believed to be living back in their old home village.
Affiliations: He was briefly part of the Miraculum for about a year after he and his sister were taken from their home village.
Home: Morgen was born and raised in a small village in the far reaches of the Wastelands. The village was known for harvesting petrified wood and trading with nearby outposts, and was known as Stonework.

Magic: He's an Astral Conduit, though still fairly knew at it. He can easily project himself into his dog, Spot, and is comfortable and skilled at controlling her. He's also found he's able to see through Morwen's eyes at times, though like most Astral Conduits, he's unable to "control" her as she is human. He hasn't tried his hand at other animals as of the start of our story.
Inventory: He carries a ratty old knapsack around, but it's usually empty unless his sister finds something of use to stow away in it. He carries a canteen and a small hunting knife on his person, but otherwise nothing else of real note. The only real treasure of his is a silver coin with a crude carving of a dog on it kept on a leather cord around his neck.
Combat: Morgen isn't much of a fighter, considering his blindness. When forced into a combat situation, he relies on shifting to his dog, Spot, for defense of himself and his sister. Spot is a large dog with pointed ears. Despite her name, she has no spots on her body at all, and is a solid black, dark as pitch. She stands about three feet high at the shoulder, with a broad chest and a matted, bushy tail.
History: Morgen was born in Stonework a few short minutes after his twin sister, Morwen. They are the eldest of five other children, born to a couple of loggers who worked the petrified woods around their hometown of Stonework. Morgen and his sister were bought by the Miraculum from their parents when they were twelve. Trade was doing poorly in their hometown due to a nearby elemental mutant wreaking havoc on the forests, and their parents needed coin to support the other children. The twins fled the organization when Morwen overhead them wanting to dispose of her brother, thinking he was incapable of Astral projection when he failed to demonstrate his abilities over the course of a year.
Other: Morgen is completely blind and relies on his newfound abilities as a conduit and his sister to survive.

[User]
Morwen head snapped up at the chanting. "Move!" She shrieked standing up.

She stumbled back as she grabbed her brother, hugging him close. "Down, down!" She whispered harshly as she pushed him underneath the table. "We need to get out of here!" She looked to were Rali and the others were going, there was a back exit. A chance of escaping!

There was a pause. She looked back to Bast and the hunter. Bast was focused completely on the hunter, they weren't important anymore. This was her chance. A chance of revenge. For those months of torment. Morwen kissed her brother's forehead, before crawling towards the man underneath the table. Slowly, she produced the knife she stole earlier. She took a slow and steady breath. The smell of almost making her gag underneath the table. It was to familar. It brought back painful memories of the Miraculum for her.

She hesitated, holding the knife in front of her. Morwen narrowed her eyes. Revenge filled her thoughts. She quickly slashed at his ankles, with the hopes to cripple the man. She then stood up quickly, to throw the table on top of him. "Run!" She grabbed Morgen's hand and started to drag him to where Rali and the rest went.

[Assistant]
The corner of Johannes' mouth turned down as his nostrils flared. Showy displays of magic always irritated him, but using magic to threaten people was downright disgusting. The tavern-woman's flight with her hapless barmaid and the rugrats scrambling away barely registered - he was too focused on Bast. Johannes took a single sliding half-step backwards so that the flames wouldn't touch him, but he kept as close to Bast as otherwise possible.

It came as a surprise to Johannes when the kids didn't simply scurry away. He had not expected the girl to make a move, to do something as risky as go for his ankles. Not when it meant leaving that dumbfounded-looking boy unattended and wasting precious seconds they could be using to put distance between themselves and Bast. Suspicions and curiosity rolled around in his head, but that was for later.

When the girl slashed at Bast's ankles, Johannes took advantage of this opening. Reaching to a slim leather pocket-sheaf on the side of his dark brown cargo pants, he wrapped his fingers around something. In a flash, he had it out - a long knife with a handle like a pair of brass knuckles - and he didn't hesitate for a second.

Johannes lunged forward, disregarding the flames, and slashed at Bast's throat.

[User]
All but leapt to his feet as the magical flames shot up, his heart pounding in his chest. Fire magic.. It had to be fire magic. Snatching up his bag he started to reach inside to pull out his scribing set before pausing. The crackling of the flames sent him into a pause.. While the smell of sulphur burned at his nose.

Ba-dump Ba-dump.

Ezra could hear the blood pounding away in his ears or could that be the sound of his heart pounding against his ribcage? He wondered wildly if all those nearby could hear it as well. His hand shook as he took hold of the wooden box he kept the set in, looking up in time to see Johannes slashing at the man's throat.

Did he get him? It seemed everything moved in slow motion.. The man staggered by something.. What the hell did he miss? His gaze fell upon the fleeing kids before looking quickly back towards the Hunter and Mage. Nails pressing down against the wood as he waited with bated breath.

[Assistant]
There was a scrambling sound at the closed front door. Vicious barking. Spot knew something was up, but she was helpless to aid her wards, foiled by a lack of opposable thumbs. Morgen's head turned in the direction of the familiar barking as he hid, dazed and disorientated beneath the table where Morwen left him. He had no idea what was going on anymore; it wasn't fair, why did he have to be blind?! He considered skinwalking, if only to escape this confusing hell hole, but resisted temptation.

Bast gave a snarl of agony as Morwen's knife but into the tender tendons of his foot. His leg buckled involuntarily and he hissed through clenched teeth, turning towards Morwen, only to have the table overturned against him. "Orphaned cunt!" He roared after her, his flames burning higher, brighter. It was a perfect distraction; he never saw Johannes coming.

The hunter was atop the enchanter before the latter even knew what hit him. For all his magic prowess, all his dedication to the Miraculum, He was still a erratically any other, and the flesh of his throat split in a wide, red smile courtesy of Johaness' knife.

Yet the fire did not extinguish. It began to consume erratally now, spreading rapidly, with no enchanter to keep it tempered.

Rali and her staff were waiting at the back window for the twins. It was large enough for a grown man to fit through, and she helped haul them out into the hot rain. Spot had circled to the back of the inn to greet them. She chuffed and nuzzled at both kids, tail beating back and forth vigorously.

[User]
Morwen made sure her brother got out first before climbing out the window herself. She clutched onto the bloody knife, coughing and sputtering at the smoke she inhaled when she ran. The warm rain washing off the soot and other dirt she accumulated over the past few days. Her dress clung to her now, showing off her unnaturally skinny frame. Her amber hair clutched to her shocked expression. She dropped the knife when she saw Spot, dropping to her knees and giving the dog a tight hug around her neck.

There was a range of emotions going through the young girl, and she wasn't sure which one to focus on. Bast was gone. The man that haunted her nightmares, his lecherous touch that still made her shudder in fear and flinch away from uninitiated affection. Gone. Just like that. Finally, she decided on relief. That monster was gone.

She hugged further into Spot, Morwen buried her face in the dogs dark matted fur. A shuddery breath could be heard from the young girl, trembling lightly against the larger dog. She stayed that way for several moments. Finally, she pulled away from the dog and looked to her brother. It was unclear in the rain if she was crying or not. "Morgen are...are you ok?" She rose from her crouched position and hugged her brother as well, "I'm sorry I left you like that." She said softly.

She looked behind her at the Tavern, then to the workers. "U-Um..." She shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what to do next.

[Assistant]
Johannes felt a twinge of pleasure as he felt his knife slice through Bast's throat. It was a good feeling, one that made him feel oddly powerful and alive knowing that some twisted son of a bitch was dead at his hand. The feeling was like electricity in his veins. The blood that splattered across his arm and chest was like a temporary badge of honor.

He didn't have time to dwell on it - the fire was spreading and out of control, and he was sitting inside a tinderbox. A quick tug at the strap of his backpack ensured all his belongings were still on him, and that was good enough for him. Dashing for his table, he grabbed on to Ezra and shoved him once roughly toward Rali's open window. "Move!" Either the scribe would get the hint to follow, or he'd burn. This would make for a good first test.

Johannes dashed toward the window, grabbed on to the frame, and hoisted himself out. He tucked and rolled onto the hard ground, landing with a grunt, but he scrambled to his feet right away. Despite the growing flame, he waited at the window, figuring Ezra would need a hand climbing out. A quick glance around ensured the staff and the kids were out as well.

Johannes bounced on his toes a bit as he waited for Ezra. Shit had hit the fan, and he wanted out of this outpost now. He never stuck around to see if anyone would thank him for disposing of mutants or Miraculum members; he never knew who would be thankful and who would be angry. This was especially the case when property damage happened. No doubt the tavern-keeper would be livid that her livelihood was turning to ash.

At least maybe that bad vibe would go away.

[User]
The heat and smell of the figure continued to assault his senses, rooting him in place as he casted a terrified look to the steadily spreading flames. His mind went momentarily blank until he suddenly stumbled forward with that rough shove, jarring him out of his panic.

"R-right." Ezra stepped quickly after the hunter, desperately trying to push the thought of the fire from his mind as he climbed out after him. The window was not difficult to get through Suddenly moving to hurry past the Hunter, aiming to get as far away from the flames as possible, away from the stench, away from the heat.

Quickly, and now that he was safe from the flames, he covered his look of fear with one of annoyance.. Though his heart continued to try and escape his chest and the scars beneath his clothes seemed to burn as if fresh. "Huh. They have gotten rather bold out here in the Wastes haven't they?" Steps up next to Johannes now, keeping his gaze on anything but the burning building. Catching the Hunter's uneasiness his amber eyes flicked quickly to the tavern woman, suddenly voicing the same thoughts.

"We should go." The young scribe kept his voice low, not only worried about the idea of an angry Tavern owner but the chance more Miraculum could be lurking nearby.

[Assistant]
By now, most of those who called this ragtag outpost 'home' and who lived nearby were reluctantly drawing out of their dwellings to witness the inn going up in flames. Rali and her two serving girls could only stand and watch as the building fed the fire. In spite of the rain, in spite of the rocky material that made up the inn, the fire did not dwindle. Even with the man who created it dead, his corpse soon to be consumed by his own flames, it still kept its original intensity. It was only fortunate that there were no other fixtures nearby to catch as well. A couple merchant stalls would likely end up being sacrifices alongside the inn, but that would be the extent of the damage. The fire would burn hot and quick, and come morning it would be gone, leaving behind ashes in its wake.

Spot sat diligently throughout Morwen's hugging, a stalwart defender and professional accepter of hugs. She watched Morgen as his twin embraced her, crying into her shaggy fur coat. Morgen extended a tentative hand, and the large dog tipped her head up, nosing his fingertips with her wet nose to let him know where she was. The boy smiled faintly, despite the goings-on around them, and stroked her muzzle gently.
Good dog.

"I'm alright," He answered Morgen rather plainly. Really, he was. The whole thing had been disorientating more than anything else; he'd lost track of his placement, though he could deduce that they must have gone out some back window to relative safety. He was already soaked to the bone, and he shivered in spite of the humidity and warmth in the air. He wondered if they had lost their new clothes... and they still hadn't gotten anything to eat. "...Maybe kinda hungry... but... I'm alright." He offered his sister a small smile, still petting Spot. As Morwen hugged him, he stood there, stoically enduring the affection as well as Spot had. "It's okay. We're safe. We're fine." Something Bast had said bothered him, though. Hadn't the man called his sister... orphaned? "It's just..." He trailed off, paused. Was it worth worrying about now? He could have been lying. Still smiling a bit, Morgen shook his head. "Nevermind."


[System]
Age: 17

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Weapon: Trepination Blade

Not only will this sword ruin your day with its impossibly sharp edges or if you're-gods forbid-stabbed by it, it can focus and fire a steady beam of energy through its length and out its tip when powered with Dust. The scabbard for the sword is a bright red, and tapers with the blade. It has since been upgraded to include the ability to mecha-shift into a katar.

Shield

Specialty: Up Close and Personal. Oswald's semblance is obviously most useful for this style of combat, as it prevents enemies that excel at range from getting to a viable range from him, so long as he can get within fifty feet of them. As he wields a sword and shield, Oswald is capable of both a bruiser role and a tank role. So long as he's in his opponent's face, he's comfortable fighting in whatever manner is appropriate for the situation. When he attacks, Oswald is ruthless, leaving no openings, and even using his shield as a weapon at times to keep himself from giving his enemy an opportunity to attack. On the defensive, he becomes a fortress, blocking with both sword and shield, refusing to give up any ground.

Semblance: Closer- Oswald can instantly close the distance between himself and another living creature (Grimm or no) within fifty feet of him, moving from wherever he is to about four feet from his target.

Personality: "Speak Softly and Carry a Big Stick." Oswald is a friendly enough guy when he's with friends or allies, and he tries to keep the peace whenever fights break out. He tries to be the first on the scene, and acts as an enforcer to make sure things don't get crazy. If a fight does happen to break out, he'll try to bring it to an end before anybody gets seriously hurt. He strongly favors the diplomatic option when available. If someone makes it clear that that option isn't available, though...well, he breaks out the big stick.

Color: Onyx

Emblem: A heavily damaged dark stone tower, with a small white figure standing proudly atop it.
Emblem

Appearance: Oswald stands at about 5'10" tall, weighs in at a mean 220 pounds, and sports a pair of dull brown eyes topped by a short head of dark black hair. He typically wears a heavy red cloak with onyx pauldrons over a pair of black pants and a white collared shirt. Under his cloak, he has a pair of onyx steel gauntlets, a dark red canvas brigandine and wears a pair of dark black greaves under his pants. He's rather light-skinned, and his face has a small scar under his nose that goes through his lip diagonally. As for shoes, he always wears a pair of black work boots.
Oswald

[User]
Caravan Mission

When Oswald came in, there were indeed eyes on him. Men armed with pick axes, in various states of tattered. Beyond them was pitch black. The fear in their eyes were evident however, and they knew they were trapped. But for the short while that Oswald was there, he would hear something. Voices. Words. In an entirely different language.

"Fru ec ra? Fryd tuac ra fyhd?"

"Rana'c hud rana du gemm ic, ec ra?"

"Tytto, bmayca cyja sa!"

There was a started shout when he vanished, leaving only the note. One of the men crept forward and looked at the note, unfamiliar with the words written on it. There was some hushed chatting amongst the men to try to figure out who amongst them knew the language. An elderly woman stepped forward and took the note in her hand. Electrical sparks jumped from her fingers and burned the paper. "Hmph. Hunters. Damned fools don't even have half the story..."

Meanwhile topside, the head guardsman still looked stern and ready for violence, though the rest of his guards seemed rather revealed that for once, no one was trying to kill them. There wasn't really anywhere to rest however, and the best they could do was find a shaded area tn sit down. The head guardsman went up to Marcus. "Do you really think those animals are going to listen? No matter how this ends up, they're as good as dead. It was because of them that this camp is in this sorry state! If we don't kill them, they'll be executed or imprisoned for siding with the fang. You trap a animal in a corner and it will die fighting. And I don't know about you, but I rather not give them the chance to bear their claws."

Eventually however someone does come up. It was only one, but a female faunas arrived with a piece of paper. But as soon as she saw the tank she couldn't take another step forward. She just fell to her knees and started crying, clutching the paper tightly. Before anyone else could come out an older man came from the cave and put his arms around her, trying to both comfort the crying girl and shield her from Team MODA and the others, despite how fruitless such an endeavor would be. The guardsmen were stirred back and the head guardsman was thinking about taking a shot, but looked over to Marcus.

"I don't know what you sent to them, but I seriously doubt that a show of force is suppose to make them comply. It certainly didn't when we tried."

"Fryd yna oui fyedehk vun, oui pycdyntc! Lusa yht gemm ic ev oui ryda ic cu silr, un nayt drec yht cyja ic! Lusa uh, zicd tu ed!"

The man at the entrance of the mine started shouting at the others in his language, seeming quite angry and passionate. He took the paper from the girl's hand and waved it in the air. There was some sort of writing on it.

On a piece of cloth scratchily written with what seems to be coal as the following written:

I am the radio jamer. I not stop until we saved. We know that you wil kill us ifw leave. We do not control bugs. They kill us to.

There was a message on the other side of the note as well.

Fat human said he help and this hapen. We do not trust you do right thing. All you humans kill like monsters. Is that you will do anyways?

@Agent B52@MULTI_MEDIA_MAN

Patrol Mission

"You assholes! You don't care about this city at all, just want to flaunt your dick and stick your head up your ass!" The anchor girl shouted at Ebon and Skyra. The leader of the gang placed a hand on the Anchor girl, who quickly than began to heal from her injuries. "Shush. Let them do what they want. We still have work to do ourselves. Don't worry, I doubt they could help even if they did know what's going on." The leader said quietly. The gang of girls departed shortly after, vanishing around the corner.

At the Horn of Plenty district, things were just as bustling before, but without merchants trying to get in everyone's way. Instead various food kiosk stood at each corner and on the side of the room, trying to sell their wares. Dango in sweet sauce, grilled meat on sticks, there was one stall selling burgers that used hand-man doughnuts instead of buns, watermelons, and even one selling a strange blue drink, claiming that it can give you nightvision. There were also robots moving around, picking up trash, offering directions, and cleaning messes. Not too far away from the entrance of the Horn of plenty however was a crime scene; there was police tape blocking the area around a gas station, with a bunch of broken windows scattered about. A human officer was on standby and when she noticed Skyra and Ebon she waved them down.

"Hey! You're the hunters, right?"

Over at the Land of Walt the manager of the Ursa game seemed unsurprised that Krysthane tried to kick the target herself. Her attack did cause a bit of damage, knocking over a table from the force of her blow... And got to 77%. The Ursa did bend at the force of her attack, but it did not break. The manager simply sighed and spoke out. "And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why you need the right tools for the job! That was an impressive kick young lady, but unfortunately it just didn't cut it. Points for trying though! Here, have a sundae."

Two knights arrived on the scene expecting a fight, but when they saw it was just Krysthane trying to hit the ursa they relaxed. "Another hunter huh? You'd think they would know how to hit an ursa for maximum damage!" One of the knights said. The other knight just laughed and noticed Sepia. There was a nudge between the two, a couple of hand motions, and one of the knights approached the absent-minded huntress. He leaned in closely and whispered something into Sepia's ears.

"Psst, hey. The sweet spot on the ursa isn't on it's head. Well, not on it's face. It's actually right underneath it's chin. Most people do an overhead smash, but what you actually need to do it do an underhand swing. That'll give you at least 50%, so if you put some power into it you can hit a hundred easy."

@SevenStormStyle@PyroDash888@Ryonara

[Assistant]
IC: Emerald

Emerald's ears perked up as Vega addressed her. She was actually talking to her! Yay! She sat up straight in her chair a bounced in it a bit, as if there was something inside her that made it impossible to hold still.

"Well, I like to eat ice cream...watch movies...play games...get into foodfights...jump off cliffs...catch bugs...climb trees...snowball fights...avoid yellow snow...practice with my weapons...practice with my weapons on grimm...see how long I can hold my breath...stare at fish in aquariums..." She paused. "There's a lot more, but I'm getting tired of talking."

[User]
Daniel was relaxing on one of the hospital beds, having been dragged here due to his wound. Apparently, the bullet had gone through his body, so there wasn't any need for surgery to extract any bullets. However, the wound was still quite severe, so he had been forced to stay at the infirmary. Needless to say, Daniel was not pleased, but there was nothing he could do about it. The recovery time was not given to him, which made waiting even worse for him.

Robert and Priscilla were uninjured, but Greyson took even worse of a hit than Daniel did. It wasn't pretty at all. Daniel looked at everyone, then realized how silent the group was at the moment. Daniel was considering which joke to use in the current atmosphere, and was about to say something, when Abel and Sapphire came in. Guess a few of the others were returning from their missions too.

Then the small talk began. "An understatement for sure," Daniel agreed with Robert. "Especially considering what Ms. Popular's going through," referring to Priscilla. "As for the mission, lemme tell ya, getting shot is not fun." Then came a mention of a ferret. Daniel decided to shut up for once and listen to this story. It wasn't every day you'd hear about a ferret, after all.

[Assistant]
Oswald Connolly- Escort Mission

Grunting as he realized that the Faunus workers were speaking a language that he didn't recognize, Oswald watched the entrance to the mine, sighing in relief as a woman came out. When he got a better look at her, however, he nearly crushed the palm of his gauntlet, he was squeezing his hands so hard. Hearing the guardsman speak didn't help, either, and it was in the moment that he saw one of the guards aiming at the unarmed, mutilated, sobbing woman that he snapped.

"You're right. A show of force won't work. So I'm going to try something different."

First, he reached to his belt and detached his sword's scabbard, the weapon and its sheathe falling to the ground. Next, he undid his gauntlets, dropping the armor as well. After that, he lowered his shield to the ground and started unlacing his brigandine. After his weapons and armor were removed, Oswald took his cloak from his back and folded it over his arm, taking slow steps forward before turning back to face some of the guards.

"Do not, under any circumstance, fire on these people. Marcus, as team leader, I will defer to you, but I do not think these people are a threat. I'm going to talk to them, and I'm going to fix this." It was obvious in his voice, his lifeless eyes, and his posture that he was both one hundred percent serious, and one hundred percent confident that he could, and would, keep that promise.

Taking a deep breath, Oswald stepped forward, holding his arms out widely. Now, he was only wearing a white collared shirt, his pants, the greaves covering his legs, and a pair of boots. As he neared the two Faunus, he carefully took the note and sat down before reading it.

So Diamond was right. That bastard set us up. More blood to shed...at least it will be the right blood this time.

Lowering his head so that the pair could only see the top of his skull, Oswald spoke, slowly and loudly. "I'm sorry for what we've done to you. Had I known what was going on, I'd have put a stop to it much sooner. But I need to know something." Frowning as he raised his head, Oswald looked the man in the eyes. "What happened here? Is there anybody who can speak our language?"


[System]
---

Born 9:11 on the 1st of Bloomingtide, Zayra is among the younger of the Senior Enchanters of the Ostwick Circle of Magi at merely 29. Born in the local Alienage, she joined her family in servitude to the local Teyrn as a scullery maid at age six. The Melthene family was held in high esteem in the elven community, in no small part due to her grandfather's role as Hahren. It was his influence that lead Zayra to join the Circle peacefully (rather than face rather more severe consequences) after a mishap with her magic and a minor noble. Nearly ten years old and illiterate, none were more surprised than she when First Enchanter Dmitry Talonhand took her as an Apprentice.

Zayra quickly proved to be a talented student, blessed with voracious curiosity and a drive for excellence in equal measure. She learned to read in but a month, and found herself drawn to primal magic. Sarcastic and guarded, it took her many months to warm to her fellow apprentices. Zayra first found comfort in Mother Rosalie, the leader of their Circle's Chantry. In time, the elderly woman gently pushed the young elf to build a family among her fellow mages.

Her Harrowing was among the shortest witnessed at the Ostwick Circle in over two decades—Zayra met with, and defeated, a demon of rage in under an hour during her time in the Fade. As a fully qualified mage, she quickly established herself by publishing a treatise on gravitic rings (including a controversial theory that the spell had its magical origins rooted in demons of sloth and envy from the days of Tevinter rule of Thedas). Despite her curt manner, Zayra became popular in the Aequitarian Fraternity. Zayra published several essays on the moderate approach to Circle reform that were well-received in the College of Enchanters.

Zayra found mentorship to be both a challenge and the best experience of her young life. Her first apprentice, a vibrant young human lad named Declan, tested her patience at every turn. In time, the two grew close, with Zayra viewing the boy as a son. His Harrowing very nearly ended in Tranquility, but he emerged triumphant in the end. In contrast, Zayra's time with the young Joslyn went smoothly. After her Harrowing, she began to collaborate with Zayra on a paper examining Avvar influence on the development of primal magic. Her latest apprentice Atlen, an elven lad of nine, has proven so far to be clever, but deeply suspicious of the Circle. Shortly after taking Atlen as a student, Zayra was promoted to Senior Enchanter. Although merely 26 at the time, the promotion was seen favorably among her peers.

Zayra's faith in Andraste has been central to her life since she first came to the Circle. Although Mother Rosalie disapproved, Zayra stumbled across the dissonant verses of Shartan during her historical studies. She found them deeply comforting and proof that elves were meant to have a more active role in the Chantry. Despite these heretical views, she has maintained a friendly relationship with the Chantry women and the Templars assigned to the Ostwick Circle.

The Kirkwall Rebellion deeply troubled Zayra. It further cemented her belief in the need for careful reform in both the Templar Order and the Circle. She recognized that the Ostwick Circle was blessed in its culture of rationality and commitment to rooting out abuse. However, despite Zayra's impassioned essay on the need for reform, she condemned the destruction of Kirkwall's Chantry. When the First Enchanter proposed rebellion against the Chantry, Zayra voted vehemently against the measure. The recent blood mage uprising in the Ostwick Circle has deeply shaken her faith in Templars and mages alike.

[User]
Impossibly, it seemed that one of the Templars—the Knight Corporal, thank the Maker— was willing to see sense. Zayra scarcely dared to breathe. She had spent so long begging the Knight Commander to believe her, had spent so many hours channeling her being into seals and wards and fighting off abominations. Exhaustion lingered in every corner of her body, fingers trembling with the emptiness. But she would not, could not, surrender. This was her family, her home, and there was little she wouldn't do to save it.

He argued quietly with another Templar. Zayra's hearing had always been keener than the shems realised, and she pieced together the fragments she heard. They'd come with the Rite—she'd suspected as much. It was more important than ever that she show them that they were not all lost. They couldn't kill all of them. It was too cruel. It was a pipe dream, but she had to believe that reason would win out, lest she fall apart.

The Knight Corporal strode towards her, more armor than man, eyes calculating. Zayra suppressed her flinch as best she could, tried desperately to believe that the world hadn't gone mad. She wanted so dearly to think that they were here to help. For a moment, she nearly believed herself.

Storm grey eyes snapped upwards to meet his. Despite her chains, she drew herself to her full height, shoulders square. She would not shrink from him, no matter how painfully her heart beat in her chest. For a moment, all she could see was the sunburst burned into the foreheads of their Tranquil. Maker, please, let her die before that fate.

The Knight Corporal delivered a slew of questions at her. Zayra sorted through them swiftly, answering in her thick, Ostwick brogue, rolling her R's, voice thick with barely controlled frustration.

"I've extensive experience in both primal and force magic. Stonefists, lightnin', gravitic rings and th'like. The First Enchanter, he was the only one to vote fer rebellion—but I think he knew we would vote against him. Of the ten Senior Enchanters, he killed three and enslaved four. Only Senior Enchanter Uriah and I escaped the meetin'." Maker, let Uriah still be alive, she prayed quickly, swallowing the sudden knot of grief in her throat. "I'm not sure how many turned by choice, but he has about twenty supporters. I counted about thirty dead—cannae be sure, I've been in the library with the children and seven other Enchanters. That leaves around fifteen Harrowed mages unaccounted fer. I… dinnae have much hope that they've survived this long with the tower like this.

"The First—Dmitry—he must have been preparin' this fer some time. He... he was my mentor when I came to the Circle. But the man I knew was better than blood magic. None of us saw this comin'. And it's like I said, Knight Corporal, we all voted against rebellion. We dinnae wan'this. This is our home. We aren't Kirkwall."

[Assistant]
Since Zayra had answered all of the questions, he held the key strong as he unlocked her handcuffs and grabbed them. He quickly tosses the cuffs towards the other side of the hallway. The Knight Corporal breathed slowly as he said, "Thank you for answering my questions." and walked back towards the other templars. But, he stopped walking and thought of Zayra and her struggles during all of this. How could one person handle all of this without giving up? She looked hurt as she saw her home in ruins, her friends dead, and anything else disappearing or collapsing.

Maker, this rebellion is going to destroy thousands of lives..

The Knight Corporal turned towards Zayra and said to her peacefully, "I am truly sorry for you. You have gone to a lot of loss and pain that no other person has dealt with since the last blight. This rebellion is just starting and Maker knows if we are going to make it alright. Just know that I pray for your recovery.". He turned away and started to walk back towards the other templars as they were stunned by the Corporal's words. He was quite as he began to climb up the stairs. The second floors, when the Corporal got to it, was peaceful as the first floor was. Everything looked dead from the flowers to the rugs looked gray and colorless.

He loudly said towards the others on the stairs, "Alright, it's clear!". The other templars began to walk towards the Corporal, looking around scared as they held onto their swords on their sides. He was waiting for Zayra to come up as another explosion rang across the tower as dust landed on their armor. He suddenly heard a loud bamn sound as if a bookshelf fell to the ground. The Corporal was on alert as he grabbed his sword from his side and then his side from his back.

"We have to go up there now!" he shouted as he ran up the steps, followed by other footsteps caused by the other templars. Then, they heard screaming coming from the fourth floor as he realized that something bad had happened. Before they could get a breather, the Corporal was met by a couple mages and around four or five demons. He and the other templars stopped at one of the mage spoke out. "Oh here are the templars, coming to kill us all!" he shouted out loud as he pointed his staff towards them. "Dmitry will soon control this tower and he will kill all the templars in this tower!". He was an elf mage, holding on to his staff as if he was going to use it in a few moments.

The Knight Corporal looked around for Zayra, but she was no where to be found. He quickly sighed as he realized that they were most of the supporters that she talked about earlier. Screams soon roared across the tower as he and others realized that Dmitry and the others got into the library. He shouted towards the elf mage, "We will never give up to you mages! We are going to the library, even if we have to kill you all!".

[User]
For a long, horrible moment, Zayra thought he would not unchain her. It wouldn't have surprised her. She'd been chained since she had first come to the Templars. It was a miracle that the Knight Corporal unbound her hands, tossing the heavy steel aside as though it were weightless. Feeling rushed back into numb fingers, pins and needles stinging every inch of her hands. She rubbed them together vigorously, relishing the bite of air on her skin once more.

She very nearly missed that Knight Corporal's sympathies—her mind had already turned to the library. Zayra almost thought she had imagined it. She studied the man warily, uncertain what to make of his prayers. Perhaps his prayers would reach the Maker. Maybe the Maker listened to humans, to Templars. Maybe they were worthy of His grace. Zayra had been so sure, once, that the Maker and His Bride loved her. That truth no longer seemed so certain.

Zayra was all too aware of the Templars and their blades. She kept her footsteps light, taking stairs two at a time. Unburdened by armor, she was able to slip ahead, bare toes picking her way across the stone floors. The second floor was still for but a moment – a massive thud filled the air, rattling her teeth. It was not an explosion, but something solid and heavy—such as a shelf, loaded with thousands of ancient tomes—and screams reached her sensitive ears.

She ran. She had never run so fast in all her life, black hair and robes whipping behind her. All that mattered was reaching the library, was finding her children and keeping them safe. Little Atlen, who had begged her not to go to the Templars, who had distrusted them, who had known they would not let her go… Zayra's heart bucked like a herd of unbroken horses. Maker, let her little Atty be safe. Joslyn would keep him safe, she would—

The instant Zayra could touch her magic again, a broken sob spilled out of her throat. It was like she was alive again, like the world could make sense. She needed to get to the library—but the cries of battle met her ears. She had slipped past other mages, had not drawn their ire in the face of Templars—she could keep going, could leave them to their fate—her children needed her now—But she could not fight a horde of demons and abominations on her own. Not without her staff to focus her spells, not without lyrium. She needed their swords. Zayra grit her teeth.

Turning away from the library was the single most excruciating experience of her life. Maker, let Uriah and Joslyn and the others hold out just a little longer. She prayed, even as she doubted that those prayers would be answered, and set back towards the Templars she had abandoned.

The sight was troubling. Three mages—one twisted into an abomination, one an apprentice (Westley, she remembered), and Enchanter Haryk, who had come from her old Alienage—and demons. Two rage, one of despair, and a handful of wraiths. She at least had an edge of surprise, silent at their backs.

It had been many years since she had cast without her faithful staff, but there was something wondrous in channeling her magic through her hands. Something primal and raw about grasping the threads of the Fade with her hands, shaping reality to her whims. Zayra raised her arms, a grim smile touching her lips before she slammed her fists down.

The effect was immediate. Even distanced from her spell, she could feel how heavy the world had gotten, miring the demons and mages under their own weight. The wraiths fluttered freely—but they would be easy enough to pick off—she stepped backwards, tossing her hair out of her face, breathing hard. It hurt to cast when she was this depleted, without a staff to better channel her power. Her blood felt like it was molten, burning her out from the inside.

Haryk slowly turned his head towards her, burdened by her gravitic ring, his teeth clenched against the exhertion. His eyes were wide with madness, crimson staining his arms. Blood magic, then. Zayra's lip curled, her temper flared, and her hands began the dance again. Magic surged through her, an exquisite agony that threatened to consume her before it caved to her will. Haryk had barely turned his body around when she pulled the world into her grasp once more. Haryk's mouth formed a little 'O' of surprise when his body was lifted into the air. For one instant, their eyes met, and Zayra almost pitied her fellow elf.

And then she slammed his body into the stone floor, his head exploding in a spray of flesh and bone.


[System]
Subject 17, Archon of SoundLocation:
Notes:A pale, eyeless, mouthless man. Wears tinted goggles, a bandana, jeans, headphones, rugged clothes, backpacks full of parts.
Age: 30

Archon of: Sound

Archon weapon: Headphones. Noise cancelling, a gateway into the mind of subject 17 for the wearer.

Appearance: Similar to this, with the following modifications: decent fitness, normal hands, no split down face, B.R.F brand on chest, small cybernetic enhancement to the ear, more normal skin color, no hair ever grows anywhere on his body. So no eyes or mouth, but otherwise mostly normal.

 Wears tinted goggles, a bandana, jeans, headphones, rugged clothes, backpack and messenger bag full of parts

Personality: Socially awkward, closed off, curious, inventive, not the brightest.

Bio:
 Twenty-four years ago I was created in B.R.F research labs. I was a failure. I did not pass the physical tests. I was not fast enough. I was not strong enough. I had no special ability. I was useless.
 I was 16 when the tests began. A young girl by the name of Cale was brought in, and underwent the same physical tests with me. She outperformed me in every way, despite being much younger. I could feel her presence differently than that of my caretakers. It was not dissimilar to the warmth of a fire. Comforting. She was kind, and she saw my suffering and shortcomings. When she heard that I was scheduled for extermination, she saved me. I do not know how. I only know what Cale told me before slipping a bandana and goggles onto my head: "I'm sorry this happened to you. My name is Cale, perhaps I shall meet you on the outside. Run."
 The B.R.F must have thought me dead, because neither they nor the World Government Association give me trouble. I was free to go. I did not blend well with society. I communicated silently, finding solace with the homeless who did not ask many questions. Through them, I learned of this world I was created in.
 I ran across an old couple early on who took me in. They ran a homeless shelter in the World Government Association's Seventh Octant. I was only allowed to stay a few days before being forced to leave, but I was given advice on obtaining an inexpensive cybernetic enhancement that might suit me.
 Enter the audio navigator. This was a small enhancement to the ear, along with some specially modified goggles. The goggles had a tiny sound emitter that was tuned to a frequency above natural hearing potential. The ear enhancement enabled me to hear that specific frequency. It took practice, but with this I was able to navigate daily life. I blended in as a mechanic's apprentice for a time, but lacked the precision to do any meaningful work.
 I became an audiophile. I enriched my mind with not only music, but sounds of the world. What I couldn't experience in person I experienced through virtually created sounds, which ended up being a treat of their own. Concerts were to die for. The silence of nothing but the wind at the heights of buildings was my high. I couldn't create the sounds very well myself. I lacked the funds to purchase an instrument. Even if I could, who would teach me?
 Then one day I heard a voice…

 "Would you like to play?"

Special gear or equipment: Audio Navigator, Broken Sonar Equipment, Master mechanic's spare parts, parts and plans registry/lookup device.

[User]
"Wake up Maddison." Maddison woke to the voice that surrounded her but didn't open her eyes. If someone was in the room with her, she wanted to get her bearings before they realized she knew they were there. She couldn't hear anything other than the voice, so they must have been sitting still, watching her. Her heart pounded in her chest so loudly that she was sure they could hear it. She tried to slow her breathing in an attempt to calm herself.

"Up girlie, we've got places to go and things to do." It was the voice she had heard at the shoot yesterday. This time she could definitely tell it was a man. Her eyes popped open. The room was still dark. She sat up, looking to see who was with her. Her head throbbed with an ache and her heart continued to pound. She quickly glanced around the room, realizing no one was in there with her. Maybe they're in the sitting room , she thought. She quickly got up and made her way to the connected room that held the tv and few pieces of furniture. No one was there either. The voice chuckled at her confusion.

"Where are you?" she called out. "Who are you?" She continued to search every corner of the space, as if the person was hiding from her.

"Relax Miss Ford," the voice spoke in an attempt to soothe her. "You're not going to find me in this room. I exist within you." Maddie stopped moving around the area and stood still. This is ridiculous, she thought. I'm never drinking again. She headed back to her bedroom to lay down. "Please honey, as much as you drink, this isn't a result of your alcohol problem. You've been chosen." The voice sounded almost smug. Maddie flung herself back into the bed, pulling the covers completely over herself.

"This is just a result of burning myself out," she said out loud. "And I don't have an alcohol problem." She sighed. She just needed a bit more sleep and this voice would be done with.

"Get out of bed Madison." This time the voice spoke with authority, sending blinding pain through her skull. She cried out but leapt up out of the bed. She shouted to the empty air in anger.

"Alright! I'm up, ok?! Now what?!" She stomped her foot like a small child throwing a temper tantrum. She hated being told what to do. The voice answered her, this time with a more relaxed tone.

"My name is Eridanus and I will be your guide. You've been chosen as the Archon of Earth. Your purpose now is to save us all." Maddie laughed when Eridanus finished.

"I'm the what of Earth?" she asked in a sarcastic tone. "This is ridiculous. How did you find me? What are you?" She sat on the edge of the bed, running her hand through her long, dark hair.

Eridanus answered with a sigh, "Oh my god, when will I ever get an archon who just accepts what I say? It's like this every time! You are the archon. You have been given special abilities to protect the universe from evil. I'm here to help you train and get that toned ass in fighting shape. The crystal you were given is yours and yours alone. It will become a weapon that you will use to fight. It's over on the nightstand. Pick it up and you'll see what I'm saying."  Maddie glanced over to the stand on the other side of the room. The green necklace lay there where she had dropped it the night before. This was completely irrational but she had to admit, it intrigued her. The curiosity in her spirit won out as she got up, made her way over, and picked up the jewelry. Eridanus seemed delighted when he spoke. "Excellent. Now just imagine the Earth. Imagine the smell of the ground, the sound of rain, the shades of green." Maddison closed her eyes. She could smell the dirt she used to dig in with the neighbor boy. She heard the sound of the rain pelting on the roof of her childhood home. She imagined the feel of satin smooth flower petals. All of the sudden the crystal grew warm in her hand. It shook slightly then elongated into a forest green bow. Attached was a rawhide quiver with a few odd looking arrows.

"Holy shit!" she yelped in surprise and Eridanus laughed.

"This is your weapon," he said. "It's pretty badass if I do say so myself. The other archons have different weapons. This one represents Earth."

Maddison spun slightly on her feet, as if searching for the answer, when she asked, "other archons? There are more of them?" Eridanus didn't hesistate before he spoke.

"Yes there are eleven others. And that reminds me, we need to get to the temple to meet up with them right now. "

"Temple?" Maddie inquired curiously. She cocked an eyebrow and asked, "do I have to Indiana Jones my way in there?" Eridanus let out a hefty laugh.

"Maddison Tyler," he began, "we may belong to Earth but we aren't commoners. Hell no, we're booking a flight."

[Assistant]
Talay-a was a chonic insomniac, ever since she was little. Once she was old enough to leave the castle on her own, she used to time to explore the oceans beyond the castle and the surrounding city. She was about 19 years old when she found this cave about half a mile out from the city. It was half in and half out of water, which was perfect for her, since while she could breath underwater, her bones weren't nearly as dense as her Atlantian counterparts, meaning she floats more often than not and when she was trying to relax it was really annoying when she was hanging out around the ceiling.
It was also completely hidden, which was beneficial for her needs at this particular moment.
Talay-a was floating in a bubble under the water, trying to change the tide of the water. Some of the more basic magic, Talay-a had grasped easily but changing water's nature, that wasn't easy. It was slippery, she could see how it was supposed to work, but everytime she tries it, it wouldn't cooperate with her.
You're thinking about it too hard. Your control over water isn't like the magic you used to possess. It's part of you now, like a finger or a leg. You don't think about moving them, you just do it.
"Easy for you to say." Talay-a muttered out loud as she released the bubble and brought herself into the rocky shore. She released her hair from it's braided bun on the top of her head and let it drip dry.

I was not born possessing these powers. They were my mother's, and while I'm sure I possessed my own powers, I didn't have anything until I was 19 when I took my mother's into my head. She taught me what I could learn in the short time I possessed them but it wasn't enough. I was destroyed except for this small part of my consciousness. I will not let the same happen to you, so we will learn the right way.
That shut Talay-a up...well that and the cannons that were used when there was an unknown ship in the planet's space. It wasn't uncommon, not after Thanatos but the warning was still given. Except Thanatos was now after her specifically so it was time for her to get the hell out of dodge.

It's time to go, sorry about this. You've opened rifts before, this is just to a new place. Try not to kill the Archon of Time, that seems to be a reoccuring pattern with me.
"Thanks for the notice." Talay-a muttered as she opened the rift in the water below her before jumping in.

[User]
Subject 17, Archon of SoundLocation: Temple of The Archons
Notes: On the floorA pale, eyeless, mouthless man. Wears tinted goggles, a bandana, jeans, headphones, rugged clothes, backpacks full of parts. Stravier looked at 17 in panic. He knew not how the artifact worked, only that he could understand every thought racing through 17's head. He froze, hoping 17 couldn't hear his thoughts.
 "Can you hear me too?"
 17 shook his head at the same time the thought "no" popped into Stravier's head.
 He breathed a sigh of relief, causing 17 to become wary of his motives. Stravier was immediately made aware of this fact and began thinking of a way out. He thought about asking why he suddenly didn't trust him, but realized the futility in that because they both knew exactly what 17 meant. Instead, he attempted to explain himself while reaching slowly for the revolver on his hip.
 "It's not what you think."
 17 indicated that he could hear what he was doing. In one smooth motion, Stravier grabbed his gun, pulled the hammer, aimed for 17's head, and pulled the trigger. In a sudden reaction to hearing the loud crack of the revolver, 17 tried to protect himself from the bullet by throwing his hands and arms in front of his face. Instead of the sharp pain 17 was expecting, he was pushed back by a powerful force and a deafening boom. He felt the connection he had to Stravier sever as he slammed against the floor. 17 heard the bullet fall to the floor beneath where he had expected it to hit him.
 "Run."
 He picked up his bags automatically and ran for the door, only to trip over Stravier's unconscious body. 17 remembered the headphones, grabbed them, and put them around his neck as he loudly made his way down the metal stairs outside his third floor apartment. 17 heard people opening their doors and shutters, shuffling out onto the streets in search of the loud boom they had heard moments before. To keep from drawing attention to himself, he put the headphones on and kept his head down. Most had seen him before, and knew this was normal behavior.
 17's mind became an echo chamber for his and Echo's thoughts. Careful who you trust, he was BRF, you have to leave, they know I'm still alive, careful who you let in, he was my only friend, the mind is a fragile place, where will I run, just run, I thought I was done running, run to the temple, what temple, run to the temple, WHAT TEMPLE, RUN TO THE TEMPLE, just walk faster, think harder, I'm tired of thinking, think harder, YOU DON'T KNOW, I KNOW, they tortured ME, they tortured me, we both know that, we both know that, why me?, I don't know, keep walking faster, Welcome echoed through the room. It was warm. It was empty. The floor was cool and hard. The voice of a young man said "Welcome to the temple, Archon."