[System]
SEX: Male
AGE: 35 (Middle-Aged).
HOMELAND: The Black Duchy, formerly the Kingdom of Lithenia.
BACKGROUND: Tradesman

TRAITS:
* Strider – Flint is not the strongest, the fastest, or the smartest. But he knows how to take what he has and use it to survive.
* Tactician – When you're at this for half of your life, you usually develop an eye for strategy.

FLAWS:
* Sleepless – Most people go to sleep at night, but Flint... it takes a bit.

PROFICIENCIES: 16 +4 Skill points
Expertise:
Tactics II (3 points)
Folklore I (1 point)
Mathematics I (1 point)

Skills:
Cooking II (3 points)
Herbalism II (3 points)
Flute I (1 point)

Social:
Command I (1 point)

Weapons:
Swords II (3 points)
Shields II (3 points)

PERSONALITY:

Flint can be the stoic type; he has endured hardships and pain, but gritted his teeth and got on with it. That's all he really has to do. Not much he can see ahead of him, and not much that would come after, either. This also extends to people. He's not gone out of his way to make friends, and can often appear aloof. That said, he does try to care for the few people he knows – it's simply that he's lost enough people that it becomes hard to care for anyone more.
He tries to watch out for his friends, or rather, comrades, to make sure that they live to see another day. Whether this is interposing a sword or shield to halt a deadly blow, making sure they don't make enemies of import or just plain shouting at them, he'll do his best. If he doesn't have any bodies to care about, he'll just worry about making sure whatever's trying to gut him gets gutted first.
And as for his beliefs… Flint practices some of the Old Ways, but he is no god-fearing man. In fact, he doesn't fear much at all. Put him in a panic? Certainly. But there are only a two things Flint has truly come to fear. The first is meeting his end – a reasonable fear by any means, and one that has often kept him his hide. And second… Duke Garcell of the Black Duchy. That man is truly a demon to him.
He's also coming to regret how long he's been in the game... the number of creases on his brow have increased. He hasn't found any grey hairs, but it's only a matter of time. Both signify he's nearing an age where he won't be as effective a fighter as he used to be. Even if he became a captain of some kind, he would still see war. Or he could purchase some land, open a shop or an inn, get a pretty wife - the standard dream. He can't trudge dirt paths forever. So once again, his life falls to a choice.

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:

Not tall, not short, with tawny brown hair and gold-flecked brown eyes, he would not stand out among the people you might see in the Aldaric Sea, common as that is. He couldn't even tell you from whom he is descended – though he has his presumptions. He's fairly balanced in his athleticism, lean enough to be quick, muscled enough to be strong, and, well, he's had an admirer or two in his life.

EQUIPMENT:

A bastard sword and a simple iron shield are his primary tools-of-choice, with a leather brigandine, bracers and greaves, and steel-toed boots, with a plate helm and leather cap he wears if knocks to the head are likely. He has a crossbow and a dagger, too, but mostly it's piecemeal things he's picked up over the years. Most of it he just sold on to someone else. Add in his bags with enough food and clean water to get him to the next town, some dried herbs and strips of cloth in case he injures himself, kindling and a flint to light the occasional fire, a wooden flute which he whittled himself and occasionally plays, a whetstone and oil for his gear, a bedroll and blanket for sleeping, rope, which you always need, and his coin, and he's set to go for his journeying. You might think that's a lot for one man to carry, and you'd be right, which is why he brings along Gale, a bay-coloured mare. She's not exactly one to ride, and she'll kick if she's made uncomfortable, but they seem to have a good relationship.

HISTORY:

Flint was born to a herbalist and a miner in a provincial town, in the Kingdom of Lithenia. He refuses to call it by any other name. He was twelve when Barthos Garcell staged his coup, and that was about when his father died, too. And under the Duke's (now King's) rein, things certainly changed. He remembers how harsh things were back then. The toll it took.

In lieu of taking up a pick-axe, Flint's mother taught him her herb trade, how to grow some, where others grew wild, and which ones not to touch, and then how to mix them, cut them, mash them, brew them. It took several months, and a number of arguments, before he relented. He'd run the town to make deliveries and hiked into the mountains to go where his mother dare not. He met a few 'Low Aldonians' at that time, too. The ones who saw him were brash, and the ones who didn't... he came to pity these people. Their ancestors had left them quite the legacy. Aside from those distractions, he and his mother were still relatively happy... but as it always does in stories, that didn't last.

Just before his sixteenth, his mother died, in a fit of Fate's Irony, from illness. And that took everything from him. He didn't have nearly the expertise his mother did in herbs, and the horror stories of explosions in the mines struck that off the list. That left starving, begging, or apprenticeship to a craftsman or trader… or enlisting. He was too old to find anybody who'd take him, and he'd seen enough dead in the streets to know that trying to beg would starve him anyway. And that left enlistment.

He remembered the time the King took over. He didn't want to be a part of that. But what choice did he have? It came in the form of a mercenary company, in search of new work and fresh blood for the fold. They had no interest in a scraggly youth, untrained and untried, but a single man took pity on him. Menos was an old veteran, more one to bark than bite, and reaching his decline. But he claimed to see the fighting spirit in Flint. So Flint sold what he no longer needed, including the only home he knew, bought a rusted sword and mould-ridden shield, and left. His training took some time, years spent on the road until he was on par with his mentor. He helped his group wherever he could, and joined his company in fights when they happened. He turned twenty by the time he could afford a proper weapon. And he was more than distraught when, in a moment of hesitation from Flint, Menos took a blow for him. It proved fatal.

That was all it took for Flint. Despite the congratulations of his comrades and the coin in his pocket, he felt numb. Death was a thing that happened. He had always known that. But one after another, they'd left him behind. He'd lost most all he considered dear to him. Taking his share of coin from the company, he bought a filly pony and left on amicable terms with the men he'd known for the past four years. His time since has been spent as an escort, making sure bandits and pirates don't lay their hands on his charges, and on occasion, grabbing the occasional thief or murderer. The only place he's not gone in the last twelve years has been the Duchy itself.

[User]
Flint emerged from the back rooms, exchanging a small nod with the waitress as she passed by. He had arrived the night before, and given its low price and it was the place he heard he was to come, he had rented a key. The bed hadn't been so comfortable, but it was a roof over his head.

His normal action would usually be to sweep his eyes around the room, but before anything else, his eyes went to a man with pale skin and paler hair. A High Aldonian, it would seem. And to see him here was more than surprising. Then it went to the other two oddities, at the far table. Unusual for an inn, for a table to be empty, but it made it an apt choice for a barricade. Maybe that's why the girl and the old man were sitting there.

Skirting around the other patrons, he moved towards the table - but not obviously. Instead, he went for the window nearby. Turning his back to the wall and leaning against it, his back was now guarded. He lifted his leg so that his boot created a triangle out of the wall and the floor, in the event he needed to deliver a swift kick. He crossed his arms. Then he began scanning the small crowd for anything out of the ordinary, though he didn't pick up on anything just yet.

[Assistant]
It was a minute after the middle-aged warrior had set himself up at the end of the table nearest the wall that yet another figure entered. This one, however, was not dressed for war. This one was dressed to impress.

In strode a tall and pale fellow draped in red fineries, the arms of his shirt puffed out beneath his vest. He wore a feathered beret - one feather was pure white, and the other a rich black - and had a jeweled sword at his side. His mustache was long and waxed, his black shoes reflected light like mirrors, and his brown eyes gleamed with cunning. He was flanked by a pair of brutish looking fellows in fancy clothes, both of them wearing falchions strapped to their hips.

As the man regarded the group, he wore a strange expression for the briefest of moments. Then he cracked open in a wide grin and waved over to the silent mercenaries.

"Thank you for meeting here tonight," the stranger began. "I am Lord Guthbert, as you may have guessed already, and I have need of brave warriors with steady hands. I need people who aren't afraid of ghost stories.

"Tell me," continued Guthbert, stepping forward and setting one hand on the table, "have you heard of Blackmire Keep?" He leaned in conspiratorially, his gray eyes gleaming. "A fascinating place, that one. It so happens to be my ancestral home, and the source of a great many supposed evils that plague the southern lands. But I will cut to the chase.

"In order to maximize our gains in the war with Lithenia, we need the peasants here at home to do their share for the war effort. The fields must be reaped; timber must be fetched; stone must be quarried. So you will understand my discontent when I tell you that some damned fools in the southern reaches of Beldemar have stopped work because of a few disappearances." The noble's voice had a bitter tone, like he had been chewing on a mouthful of wormwood. Guthbert's nostrils flared up in annoyance, and he began circling the table, stepping around the back of the boy - wait, girl? - and the Aldonian, but his stare was on the two older and more experienced fellows. He seemed to be speaking directly to them. "Supposedly, there are all manner of nasty, ghastly things foraying out from the keep and plucking away the peasantry for whatever purpose. I need you to head on down south, find out what's actually happening from the mayor of Halden, then go to the Keep and clear out whatever bandits or the like have claimed it as their home."

Before anything else could be said, Guthbert reached into his vest and removed a fat purse. He opened it up, then poured some of its contents into his hand: gemstones. Rubies and sapphires and emeralds tumbled into his pale hand, not to mention a few diamonds. He carefully selected a few specimens and set them down on the table for the group to inspect. "Consider those gems an incentive," he said after a pause, "a down payment for the services you will render. Put an end to whatever is troubling the king's subjects and you'll get paid ten times the worth of this purse for your efforts in silver bars and precious stones. Each."

Lord Guthbert smiled at the collected mercenaries. "Any questions?"

Your characters can be assumed to have a basic understanding of what Blackmire Keep is. The money you're being offered is quite considerable - very considerable. You could each retire with that sort of wealth.

Feel free to take a few gemstones off the table.

There's details being left out. Boran knows deception well enough to tell that. The man must want them to just take his offer and get on with their task. A little probing may be necessary.

Those gems are very real. Flint knows enough about gems from his father to know they're very real and very valuable. Ten times a purse of gemstones of this quality... that's a lot of money. It's too good to be true, but if it is true...

These lines are practiced. This isn't the first time Guthbert has given this speech.

It's not something most people would pick up on, but as the scion of an Aldonian estate Lothair is well-versed in diplomacy and speechcraft, not to mention keener of intellect than most. The man's diction, the way he moves, the inflection of his voice - he's either rehearsed this speech or given it more than once before. And that begs the question... if Lothair and these other mercenaries aren't the first to be hired for this job, where are the others?

In that moment when the man walked in, Riley couldn't help but notice the way he regarded the group. That expression said "You'll do."

Riley also another oddity as the man passes behind her, running his fingers along the edge of the table. He doesn't smell. Most people have a scent about then, slight as it may be, or wear a perfume or something to cover up that smell. This man simply doesn't have a smell.

[User]
Flint let his eyes wander around the room in favour of looking towards the new arrival, but turned his gaze when the fanciest of the three began to speak. This was the one looking for mercenaries? From the look of him, shouldn't he have a legion of serfs to do his bidding instead?

Unless you needed somebody to do the dirty work, which this was looking to entail. Flint leaned forward and plucked a single diamond off of the table.

"And what is to stop us from just... taking these and running?" he said, waving the same hand, the small stone held between finger and thumb. His eyes flicked to his bodyguards, then back to Lord Guthbert. "Aside from the obvious, of course. The thing being, m'lord, these stones are Cardinal Gemstones. They're not exactly common - and thus, worth a lot more. As often as the word 'mercenary' can mean 'soldier', I've seen enough take it for the word 'bandit' and turn tail. We're not exactly meeting in the most regal part of town, are we?"


[System]
Age: 35
Gender: Male
Race: Aretan Hume

Appearance:
There are no fair or courtly words to encompass the horrifying appearance of Linus Kolbe. He is by every impression a dead man who refused to lay down. His eyes, one milk-white and sightless, stare from a red, patchwork ruin of deep furrowed wounds and unspeakable burns, the whole of his skin and skull held together with crude wire-thread stitching and scar tissue, hair long since burned away. His voice comes as a shuddering rasp from somewhere in his chest, deeper breaths rattling in his lungs. Few know what further atrocities are visible on his flesh beneath the padding of his armor.

It works well, in putting the fear of battle into the Crown's foes. Unfortunately, it often has the same effect upon its friends.

Brief character concept:
Quartermaster and record-keeper. He has one good eye and can still swing a blade or hammer with the best of men. And one thing you can be sure of: He isn't afraid of getting hurt.

History:
Who was he, before he was left an embittered husk, cast off from the crucible of war? It barely seems to matter, when few can say who he is now. And following his last return from battle, Linus would have been forcibly retired were it not for his unwavering loyalty and a curious pressure from the clergy that he remain available for duty. A compromise was reached, and he soon found himself relegated to duty as Annalist and Quartermaster; Battle-ready, but kept away from younger, idealistic recruits, those who still believe war is all glory and bright, shining armor. It would not do for the impressionable to see the true, terrible face of war.

As with many older knights in the service of the Aretan crown, Linus is a veteran of a few of the kingdom's renowned campaigns. But what follows him more closely, more cautiously, are the whispers of other, lesser-known campaigns, rumored forays pushing deep into the hidden east. Campaigns of which there are no songs, of which no tapestries are woven, of which there are no writings and any discovered are burned along with their authors.

There are no certainties in this whispered hearsay. But the rumors -- as surely Linus himself -- refuse to die.

[User]
Gawain was promptly shown what side of the blade he was on in this sad sad story of treacherous elves and Eretol whores. The kick between his legs landed, firm and stout, sending him hurling forwards landing on his knees. He planted his fists into the ground as he grunted, coughing slightly and spitting out blood on the dusty, sand-covered floor beneath him. He took a brief moment to recover before looking up, grinning slightly. The grin morphed into a deep, ragged laugh. "You kick hard," he said with a voice equally as ragged as his laugh. ".. for an elf."

"Give me a knife like you have and we can settle this betwee-" his answer was cut short by the elven leader, who stepped between to stop the woman. He then proceeded to ask the knight if he'd like to be delivered to his monarch. Oh, if only... "I'd like that very much, elf." he said, looking down at the floor again, still wincing from the pain. Oh, if only he had a knife, he'd string that elf bitch up on a noose along the rest of these vile creatures. The Eretrol whore, she'd meet a kinder fate. She was a whore, surely, and a tribal at that.. but she was still a human. She'd become his personal servant, to serve his every whim and need. Just the thought of that made the pain between his legs ease away.

A set of boots approached the man again, and from the sound of the voice it seemed to be the Eretol. She didn't get far past her initial sentence before Gawain really did collapse - not from pain, but from laughter. Was she serious? He snickered even as she continued to speak. This woman was remarkably fun, even for being an Eretol whore. "I know what I said to be untrue, is it?" he asked her then, looking up finally with a twinkle in his eyes. "Then I s'pose you're not a criminal, and you simply arrived here to feed these poor villagers.. and then somehow a fire started and you came here with your weaponry to make sure I was unharmed?" He shook his head; no, it was clear what they had done here. And justice would be served for it as soon as he saw the chance to do it.

Her comment about her never spreading her legs for him didn't do much for him. For her, ten Eretol whores who would gladly offer up their hatred for the Aretians for some money. So he simply raised his shoulders at her comment, slowly rising upon his feet now, pushing himself off of the ground with his fists. This was the first time, however, that he managed to get a good look at the woman. She was stunning. It made him think twice about what she had said before, too - she certainly was attractive, for an Eretol. Only his hatred for those desert faring half-traders kept him from acknowledging this, even to himself.

His staring was interrupted by her cold, cold gaze into his eyes, and voice that spelled only hatred for him - the kind he returned the favor of, most definitely. As she ordered him to move, he simply bowed lightly, as if he was bowing for a noble woman in court. "After you, milady.." he said playfully. In his mind he promised himself to make these fools pay for taking him captive. They should've killed him when they had the chance, because he was going to annoy them to death for the lack of a sword to do it with.

The one thing that betrayed his playfulness was his body, which was bruised and dehydrated. As he attempted to step forwards to follow the woman into his captivity, he felt a sharp pain between his legs and in his side. The mage had been kind - played only mind tricks on him, which would explain why he couldn't recall much of his time in captivity. But between the hard sandstone floor in his cell, the elves and the Eretol whore beating him up and the bad shape he was in.. Gawain had seen better days.

His arm was placed across his stomach to hold his hurting side, as he slowly made his way up the stairs following after the woman, and no doubt followed himself by whomever of the two remaining elves had decided to follow them up. His side hurt like hell, as did his sack. And his leg wasn't feeling too good either.. he swayed slightly as he attempted to hide that he was hurting. He did a bad job at it - it was clear to anyone that he was in some pain.

It didn't stop him from wishing death to all those who were in and around the village at this time.

[Assistant]
"Complicated indeed. I understand," Aust replied tersely in the Elven tongue and returning his blade to its sheathe. Pushing himself to his feet, he crossed his arms over his chest and finally settled his eyes on one person. The Knight didn't seem to be of a mind to resist, at least not yet, but that didn't mean he shouldn't be watched. Very shortly after the Elf rested his eyes on the figure however, he dropped to the ground. Upon glancing to Juna and the blade she now held, he surmised what had happened and couldn't help wincing in mild sympathy to the man's pain. While it may not have been entirely undeserved, a kick like that was simply cruel.

Reasoning that the Knight had likely dealt out at least as much cruelty to any one being in the past, Aust remained silent while Lothren gave the rest of his orders and vanished up the stairs. He tensed and almost spoke up when Annara approached the man again, but the anger she had been mired in earlier seemed to have passed. At the least, her insults had become less crude and she wasn't striking him. After they both got a few words in, Annara started for the stairs. Aust watched her climb them, noting the way she moved and the dispassionate look she offered the Knight over her shoulder. The man, clearly weakened by his plight and subsequent encounter with the Ytharien, was slower to make his way up those first few steps. As the two climbed the stairs, Aust spared another glance towards Juna before looking down to the man still sprawled at his feet. Nothing had changed about the Mage's condition in so short a time, but the elf still looked troubled.

"Go on ahead. I'll be along shortly, after I see what can be done for our other friend here. Won't be more than a minute behind you, I just don't want him following us if I can help it," he explained, kneeling by the mage again. Placing a hand over the man's eyes, he started to chant softly as though preparing a complicated spell to lay over the Mage.

[User]
Juna quickly put her knife back into its holster that was hidden within one of the pockets of her armor. She simply gave a little shrug to explain her actions. Juna herself wondered if she had ever really planned on killing him. Hurting him, definitely. She could do a hundred things to him without killing. Yet she did not know if she had the intent to kill. Juna shrugged off her thoughts, assuming she had neither the desire nor undesire to kill him.

"Well, seems I got a bit excited there. These things happen; you understand of course," Juna said. Or maybe he didn't. She had rarely lost her composure. "I'm sure you understand as well, sir knight. Of course you do."

Lothren had told her that "enough," and that was good enough to her. He was their leader, and she owed him a great debt, likely never to really be repaid. She looked back at Annara, who gave her a touch on the shoulder and a look that Juna thought looked almost sympathetic. Juna gave Annara a look, holding that smile that seemed to always be there.

"That one's a lively one for sure," Juna said, and then added mockingly, "His words, at least."

She took a step away from the Knight, although kept her eyes on him. Who knows what he would do if he had the chance? He was rotten to the core, Juna could tell, and very angry. If he tried anything she would react, although he strong he would do so. He had not been willing to do so already, and now the ideal time for that had passed. They were now going back outside.

[Assistant]
Metal heels thumped into the horse's flanks. The mount's bellow sounded across the plain, echoing back dully from the rocks as it was thrown into a gallop, sending the pair thundering across the dry earth. Linus flattened himself against the saddle, the fluttering standard held low like a jouster's lance. A tarnished, horseshoe-shaped medallion graven with the name "Mister Hooves" jingled from the mount's tack. Linus glared at it a moment through the perforations of his helmet. Poor name. Lacking purpose. Would have words with Falkenberg if he still lived.

They drew nearer, pounding across the sands. The Captain spoke true. This was their charge. But his mind circled even as his focus was honed to a narrow point. Why run? 'Twas no callow defiance. A trap? No. Unthinkable. Couldn't have anticipated this meeting. Perhaps simple fear. Perhaps some grander gesture. Perhaps something to do with the curious absence of the boy's companions. Answers would be had soon, for the distance closed, nearer and nearer.

The King's mount turned sharply, cantering down through a pass Linus couldn't have perceived even had he known it was there, descending into a dry, shallow valley. Kolbe drew hard on the reins, twisting the mount's head painfully to one side. Mister Hooves lurched, singing in protest, twisting its body to follow, legs gouging a furrow into the earth and skidding a good three meters before slowing enough to turn, throwing up a glittering wave of sand in their wake. Reckless. Stupid. Couldn't follow now. Continue, then. Use the elevation to see how the land lay. Avoid further surprises.

Kolbe thumped the horse into action once more, slowly building to a gallop along the crest of the ridge. He leaned hard in the saddle, gripping it tightly as he looked below, tossed up and down by the relentless pace. There -- a white blur, trailing a billowing cone of dust. The Captain was in close pursuit, keeping pace with the boy, unwilling to endanger a child of the Royal bloodline but clearly losing patience. The valley was narrow, but treacherous, serpentine. Their apostate master could not outpace them, but they could be lost. It was time to force a resolution.

Linus pulled. Another primal bellow rang across the empty plain, one that the other two riders were puzzled to find drawing rapidly closer.

---

The desert in front of Alonso exploded into a heavy fountain of dust and silica as Mister Hooves landed bare meters in front of him, ploughing into the sand and skidding near a forty-degree angle, legs scrambling to control its momentum. The standard of Areta, stained, torn and ragged at its end, flapped above the cloud, held high in one tarnished, armored fist.


[System]
"I am the shield that which the enemies of the Emperor break themselves upon."
"Heretics crave the cleansing fire of absolution. They need not fear for we shall deliver."
Age:

Thirty

Gender:

Female

Personality:

As a member of the Adepta Sororitas, Andromedai has a will of iron that is matched by her steadfast determination to thoroughly eliminate all hostiles that threaten the Imperium of Man and The God Emperor. Some call her reckless, but in truth she carefully plans out each of her actions before swiftly putting them into motion, there is no room for mistakes upon the battlefield. When serving along her own kind, she is selfless and honorable. She will assist those who are in need the most, if appropriate. At times, she can be unpredictable, using her creativity to overcome whatever challenges that are tossed her way. Very rarely, some of her past life will show through her personality, showing the humanity that still remains buried behind her intense training and brain-washing she endured over many years.

Former Occupation:

Ophelian Celestian for the Order of the Argent Shroud.

Equipment:

Armor: Full suit of Celestian Power Armour with Order of the Argent Shrouds shading and emblem.

Primary Weapon: Astartes Mark Vb Godwyn Pattern Bolter - [Modified for increased range, stability and accuracy. Attached to the bottom of the weapon is an automatic shotgun device used for close combat scenarios.]

Secondary Weapon: [None so far.]

Melee Weapon: Chainsowrd

Accessory 1: Krak Grenades

Accessory 2: Melta-Bomb

Accessory 3: Rosarius

Acessory 4: Librium/Tome.

Medical Equipment.

[Has been seen operating with a Mk IV Arkhan Rifle in the past.]

Notable Events:

The Obsidian incursion:

A few months after being assigned to the Order of the Argent Shroud, Andromedai was stationed upon the Shrine world of Erathell to help protect a number of Important Temples and Shrines dedicated to the God-Emperor of Mankind. While she preferred a combat role, guarding such holy sites was also a critical role she was honored to hold. Many months passed in calm before the Slaanesh devoted forces of Chaos invaded, bringing a wave of death and destruction to all that they touched. Due to where they had started their invasion, Andromedai was one of the first to throw herself into Erathells defense. Alongside her fellow Sisters of Battle, they pushed back against the chaos forces over two days of non-stop fighting. The records for the battle indicate that not a single Adepta Sororitas had been lost, through the forces that had invaded the world had been completely irradiated. This was the first world invasion that Andromedai had been part of, from it she had learned many useful skills and had gathered much information about the enemy that would help her through many other battles in the future.

The Assault of Dalenarth:

Andromedai and her fellow Sisters of Battle fought alongside the fabled Space Marines in a war called the Assault of Dalenarth. A large number of Tau forces had been spotted in the Hawkings cluster but vanished from all sight, seemingly to vanish in the depths of the galaxy. When further investigation into the Hawkings cluster was issued, a large base was found to have been established upon an abandoned War world, hiding amongst the rubble. Swiftly and to the letter, the threat was analyzed and considered to be grave, if not completely annihilated. Their numbers were massive and thus both the Sisters of Battle and the Space Marines were sent to deal with the threat. As soon as they arrived, war had broken out and casualties on all sides were counted but never admitted to. Working alongside a Space Marines for the first time, she witnessed the combined strength of their forces. Eventually when Andromedai found herself alongside a single Space marine in the depths of the Tau base, the two of them burned through the hostile forces together, finely eliminating the Tau commander who had organized the whole mission. Both of them were recognized for their acts during the war that lasted two weeks.

The Slaughter at Mobius:

The Slaughter upon the desert world of Mobius is a failed assignment that not many members of the Imperium of man know about. Andromedai had been asked to lead fifteen Sisters of Battle to a small civilized world that had been also called a desert world due to its arid and barren landscapes. Why the Imperium of man had decided to place a colony here was beyond Andromedai she had her orders to investigate a destress signal. When they landed upon the planet, what they found was much more horrific than what was expected. The colony had been completely destroyed, leaving little to no sign of. Further investigation resulted in stirring up something that laid below the sands.

The colony had foolishly built their city on top of a forbidden world, unknown of the dangers that laid below it. They had awoken a small group of hideous xenos known as Tyranids. There had been no way to tell if the distress signal was a trap or not, but what they did know is that all the occupants of the city had died seemingly overnight. The corpses that still remained were fresh, it was very likely the hostiles were still close by. Quickly, Andromdai sent out a message for immediate evacuation and recommended exterminates to quell the threat of the hive. The order would be given to destroy the planetary biosphere and all life upon the world once she had her troops were evacuated.

The pilot informed them that she would be at their location in sixty seconds. Those sixty seconds proved to be the worst she had experienced upon any planet or any battle since she had seen combat. The ground broke apart in the distance and from it came the Xeno horrors that had wiped the colony clean. Almost every round and explosive that the group had was expelled before the drop ship arrived, strafing the area then quickly landing almost on top of the Sisters of Battle. To her surprise, every member of her squad made it onto the drop ship, allowing herself to be the last to board. When she did though, she felt numerous rounds from the Tyranid weapons travel through random parts of her body.

The wounds she sustained were incredibly severe and life threatening but with great will and determination she pushed herself part way into the drop ship. The two medics from her squad helped pull her into the ship just as the doors were closing. Within moments, they were a safe distance away from the planet and were now heading back to the fleet where the wounded would be tended to. As they did though, they witnessed the order for the exterminates being carried out in full, a magnificent but also horrifying spectacle to witness.

[User]
"Wasn't that what I suggested in the beginning?"

Adrianne commented with a slight sound of annoyance, still feeling amped up after the last fight and shelling.

And it didn't help that she felt deeply troubled by just the sheer, almost maddening look the party's resident techno-heretic was giving her venerable servo-skulls!

In her mind, she couldn't help but think Vala's free spirit and all-too-loose relationship with Imperial was bound to lead to trouble. Free thinking was the path to heresy! Although Adrianne found herself stopping that train of though before it could ever manifest into words... partly because it would have made herself a hypocrit!

"I guess there's no point complaining."

She thought to herself, before raising one gloved hand in the rain to point at a direction towards the north west.

"There is an abandoned Mechanicum storage house just half a click from here. It's a bit out of the way, but therefore it'll also be our best bet if we want to avoid the greenskins."

[Assistant]
Ansgar kept the volume of fire up as best he could considering he had to take friendly fire into consideration, as it would likely be frowned upon by the Celestian for stray rounds to find targets that they were not intended for. Thankfully, the only person readily in his way was the Arbites, who was advancing on the Ork as both Psyker and Apothecary continued their own attacks. Every time the Ork wasn't hosing the ruined bunker down with heavy amounts of firepower the Krieger was poking out, firing from his Type XIV (Heavy) before ducking back down when return fire grew too voluminous to trust his armor to shrug off. However, it wasn't until he heard that all too familiar sound of incoming artillery fire that he ducked and stayed down, covering the back of his neck just in case as he ducked down as the explosive shells made impact and turned the Ork into little more than a footnote in the after action report.

Once the shells finished landing, the Krieger was back up, sweeping through the smoke and debris with his weapon, looking for any survivors of the blasts. Nothing, though he remained on guard, scanning their surroundings while talk of a plan and further proceedings continued. Apparently the Celestian intended to use the Psyker's original plan to use her servo skulls as spotters for artillery strikes, which the Krieger still did not approve of. From the sounds of the comment, the psyker was irritated with not having gone through with it in the first place. "Long as it is defensible. It is unlikely the Orks will not notice their missing... vehicles." Ansgar hesitated to call the rolling piles of scrap and armor vehicles, but they technically performed in those roles from what he had seen of them thus far.

[User]
Nergüi sat with his back to the Orkoid vehicle, having just watched the oddly tall psyker demolish the Nob in a matter of moments, his eyes now looking around at the ruined landscape before him. What a sight it was, the usually well-oiled Imperial machine bought low by hordes of savage Greenskins, a scenario he had unfortunately seen more than once in his extended lifetime among the stars but one that kept repeating itself.

It was only when the shrill whistling of incoming shells caught his attention that the Apothecary noticed the area was even being bombarded, picking himself up with typical Astartes stoicism and unhurriedly making his way back to the bunker, entering it just as the first HE shell detonated and showered the back part of his armour in all manner of gore, debris and dirt; unlike a couple of the others, he simply turned about and watched in silence as everything from corpses to rockrete were turned into fractured clusters of shrapnel.

"Everyone still in one piece and able to stand? Good, let's move to the next objective, but this time I think we should use those Servo-Skulls of yours, Adrianne."

Never having moved to anything other than his half-squat, necessary due to where they were all packed in once more, Nergüi moved out of the bunker with his expressionless visor scanning the horizon for any further enemy contacts; if the initial battle hadn't told them that an enemy was here, the shelling certainly would!

There were further exchanges of conversation, most of it in the back of the Marines mind - he had no head for mechanics, unless it came to his bike - and most of it filtered out. Something about the masked psyker irked him, in the same way a mosquito might annoy a bullock, and he had no desire to listen to her any more than he had to.

"Long as it is defensible. It is unlikely the Orks will not notice their missing... vehicles."

Now this did make him chuckle, a deep and smooth laugh that even emerged from his vox-grill. He well knew that the Krieger hadn't been making any sort of joke, having fought alongside them in the past he wondered if they even could form any sense of humour, but it tickled him nonetheless.

"These are not vehicles," stated the White Scar bluntly, "and believe me that they will notice." He pointed a finger to Adrienne, "she could tell you that the Greenskins function with a form of gestalt psychic field, active at all times whether they know it or not, and although the scum pay little heed to casualties as you or I would see them, they will realise that some of their number have been slain whether they realise that they realise or not."

With something akin to a friendly slap on the back for Ansgar, enough to make any normal man stagger slightly, the Marine shrugged his shoulders out and took a deep inhalation of air through his helmets filters. Wherever they were going, he prayed to the Emperor that there would be more of them.

[Assistant]
At the mention of an abandoned Mechanicum storage house being just half a click from there location, Andromedai pulled her data-pad from its small metal compartment that was attached to the armor on her left hip. It quickly turned itself on and a satellite image of the surrounding area now shown upon its screen. "You are correct, Adrainne, I can see the storage house you are talking about. Though there is no way we can be entirely sure that the Mechanicum storage house is actually abandoned, be prepared to retake the building if the Orks have moved in." Andromedai placed her data-pad back into its compartment, then stepped out of the bunker and into the open rain, while doing her best to avoid all the random debris and rough terrain that the artillery strikes had created. "Should not take us much time at all to reach the Mechanicum storage house, keep your eyes open for any movement, not that I think the Orks have any possible way to ambush us, they make way to much noise for something like that to ever happen." Even so, Andromedai kept her senses on high alert.

"Once we arrive at the supposedly abandoned Mechanicum storage house, I want the Servo Skulls ready to go in five minutes Vala." This was the only thing that Andromedai said on the entire walk, there was nothing else to say, for her at least. She would merely listen to the others chat away, and would silently think to herself.

After around a half an hour of walking through the streets of the city, and using whatever cover they could find to mask their movements, the abandoned Mechanicum storage house came into view. From the outside, everything seemed normal, there were no signs of the Orks here, and the building stood in terrific shape. That still didn't mean there were not any Orks inside, but at the moment, they seemed to be in the clear.

Quickly Moving to the main door of the abandoned Mechanicum storage house, Andromedai prepared to breach the building with weapons drawn and finger on trigger. If there were any threats, she would have a quick and clear shot on them. When the door was kicked in and the room sweeped, she found it empty and secure. "Building is clear, get in here and start working on that Servo-Skull, Vala." Andromedai lowered her weapon and motioned for the squad to get to work. "I want to be moving again in five minutes, do what you all need to do and let's get this assignment over with so we can move forward with the primary objective." In the meantime, Andromedai found herself pacing back and forth through the abandoned Mechanicum storage house, planing their next move, once the anti-aircraft weapons where taken care of.


[System]
Super Powered name(optional): The Shifter

Power(s): Dimensional warping (Teleportation, short term precognition)

Power Item: Glasses; allows him to temporarily pull items from other realities into this one with intense concentration

Appearance(picture or description):

Allegiance(Hero, Anti, Villain): Anti, just wants to be left alone

Personality: David has always been a quiet person. He's fairly socially anxious, and would just rather be left alone then have to deal with people most of the time. However, when it comes to the few people David is comfortable around, or when his is just plain alone, he's a bit of a sentimental guy. When he isn't busy trying to be the emotionless shadow he is in crowds, he can be quite the sap.

History: David was born and raised in Greyshire, although few his age would ever recognize him. With the exception of the small group of friends he had, David did everything he could to ensure that he was left alone. For some reason, he just never seemed to want to deal with most people. He was an only child, and his parents never thought much of his reclusive tendencies. Although he still attended college during the year, he still preferred the quiet and lack of people in Greyshire.

When the bomb came down, David had been walking around in the park. At first, he thought his life was flashing before his eyes, and he was seeing how things could have been. However, he also started to see things that hadn't happened yet. Certain he was going crazy, David ran home, and cowered in his room.

When David woke up the next morning, he noticed several things. First, the weird visions he had weren't as intense when his glasses were off. Secondly, he now occasionally was catching glimpses of things that shouldn't be there; things that didn't belong where they were but no one noticed. Certain he was going crazy, David began to distance himself more and more from his friends and family.

The night before the government's forces arrived, David had his most vivid vision yet. He saw what would happen to his friends. His family. His home. He also saw that if he couldn't make himself suddenly disappear, he would die too. To this day, David doesn't know how he managed to teleport that first time. However, after gathering his things and thinking long and hard about where to go, he suddenly found himself at his aunt and uncle's apartment in New York. To this day, David doesn't know if what he did was right. However, all he knows now is that in between his powers, the government, and a huge city of people he doesn't know, David just wants to disappear.

[User]
Jessica sat at her desk in her apartment and went over what had happened in Greyshire as she played with a small ball of energy in her hands. Someone had to have both financed and provided materials to the terrorists behind the bomb and why did the government send black ops in to shut everyone up? The whole thing drove her crazy but as she looked up at her wallclock she realised it was time for her to go and practice before her nightly patrol.

Changing in her basic costume, a black catsuit and eyemask she made her way to the roof of her apartment building where she had set up an obstacle course and some targets. Her military training gave her the hand to hand and shooting skills she needed but her gymnastics and powers still need work. After a around an hour of falling on her rear end and target practice with her powers she prepared herself for her mission tonight. Jumping to the next roof she began to think.

"What happened to me and why did my old bosses want it covered it up?" It was then an alarm began to ring. "Showtime" she said to herself checking her gun before heading off in it's direction.

[Assistant]
After leaving Grayshire abruptly, Amelia's funds had quickly been down to the bills she'd shoved in her wallet before leaving for the grocery store. She had no intention of using her bank account, rendering her cards useless, wary of leaving any sort of trail for the team that had come to silence her hometown to follow. Fortunately, New York City was a big place, and Amelia had found a building somewhere on the east side of Manhattan where the landlord was more wrapped up in his "other" business than his ownership of the apartments. There were plenty of shady people there, but rent was cheap, and she could deal with the damp and drafty conditions because at least it was a roof over her head. She'd already managed to get hired busing tables at a small bar that had seen better days, but it was money in her pocket and they hadn't asked a whole lot of questions.

One of the two small televisions tucked into the corners of the bar for patrons to watch was turned to the news, and as she wiped down the empty tables, Amelia struggled not to cringe as Grayshire was brought up - again. Taking the entire town off the map had been labeled as a second terrorist strike, combated by the military, and that the "loss of life was devastating, an entire town undeserving of its fate". She wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry at the stories circulating about her home, but she knew that not everyone in the state was sympathetic to Grayshire and its survivors, her gaudily painted nails a testament to that. Too many questions about why they were long and why they were sharp had her purchasing the most obnoxious shade of blue she could find and painting her nails, even sticking on those rhinestones they sold for decorating nails. After that, at least, the questions had stopped.

Clips she'd watched earlier that day about JTechs and their possible roles in recent happenings played next, and Amelia struggled to tune out what was already becoming old news. The televisions left her ears ringing constantly while she was on the floor, and she happily swept up glasses left behind to take to the back to be cleaned up. Busing tables wasn't that bad, aside from the care she had to take to not scratch up the tableware or even the wooden tables. At the very least, she figured she had a way to defend herself if someone got the bright idea to try and mug her.

[User]
The following day Lexx was at the train station. He wore his typical trench coat but this time he had a hoodie underneath, the hood covering most of his face. He observed as people went on with their own lives, while his was practically on hold. As he sat there he recalled how his life was before the event that changed his life. He used to live with his younger sister in Grayshire working as a system administrator for a small company there. His father had been part of the Marine Corps and had died under unknown circumstances sixteen years ago. Or at least unknown to him. And his mother had died of cancer a few years later and as such his sister was the only family he had left. In the end she had to be taken away from him as well in Gray Bomb dropping.

Lexx's resolve was faltering. He didn't think he was ready to return to his hometown. Unfortunately he had no choice. He was out of leads. The only place remaining where he could pick up a trail was his hometown. Or what remained of it after the bombing and the intervention of the military.

Hours later he was back in the town that changed his life. Since trains didn't stop there anymore he had to go to the nearest town and walk the rest of the way. He considered visiting the remains of his parents' house but he decided against it. Being back here in the town was hard enough. He wasn't ready for that just yet.

As he walked down the deserted streets he occasionally checked his phone. Surprisingly, the Wi-fi of one of the larger stores that had Wi-fi at all still worked. His mind flashed back to how often he went there to pick up groceries with his sister. Being here once again reminded him of his former life and made him cringe. He found a bench opposite of the store to sit down and took out his laptop, scrolling through the news as he considered what his next move should be. In the process he came across the news about JTech and it's CEO, Daniel Moth. His eyes widened. That's my next lead, Lexx thought. He began regretting the fact that he had returned here as in the end it didn't provide any further clues.

"Coming here was a mis-", he cut himself off as he looked up at the store and noticed a strange symbol that had not been there before. Or at least Lexx thought it hadn't been there before, but he wasn't sure. Once again his mind flashed back to the times he came here with his sister. This time he focused harder on trying to remember every detail about the store. Instead he was reminded of his sister even more and he could feel his chest tighten. "Damn it. Focus.", he clenched his fist and closed his eyes.

That sign. It was not there before. He was now sure of it. And furthermore, it was familiar to him. "I've seen this somewhere before.", he mumbled to himself. His attention snapped back to his laptop and he began opening various pages that were still in his browsing history. "There it is.", he said as one of the sites had an add which contained a symbol identical to the one on the building. He clicked it and a new window popped open which lead him to a chatroom. Besides the randomly generated name that was assigned to Lexx there was only one more name in the online users list . . .

[Assistant]
Ved
 A messaged popped upon his laptop, and he immediately opened it, finding that someone had triggered his ad system. He quickly forced the opposite computer to download, install, and operate his personal VPN, making both ends of the communication completely secure. He routed a one way camera, viewing the person on the opposite end. After several seconds, he was satisfied that the man was not FBI, nor anyone from a private sector looking to chase him down and hire/force him into working for them. The man looked to be dirty, and young, which was a very good way to suggest that they originated from Grayshire, but he would still run them through a basic questionnaire.

 [Hello.]

 The single word appeared on the man's screen, in the small white box that provided the chatroom, above the message was the Hacktivists "superhero" name, his nickname to be exact. :\\Ved.mhmn. It was a very simple chat client, using a direct IP communication, causing the computers to talk to each-other directly, through Ved's own private network. That way they could contact each other at any point in time, even if they weren't connected to a Wifi network. While he waited for a reply, he quickly traced down the location of the man, and to his surprise, he was GPS'd in Grayshire. He put his hand on the corner of the laptop screen, using his powers to identify anything and everything this man had ever done in the virtual realm, his realm. His eyes glassed over with a strange blue color, and glowled lightly through his mask as he began to absorb the cyber-existence of this man.

[User]
John started to breath heavily as he concentrated on the targets before him. Five Glas bottles sat at different levels. He forced the bottles to shoot them up into the air. Johnn waits for a moment. As the bottles begin to fall Johnn's shoots out into five branches. He forces it to catch them. Pieces of glass fall to the ground. He had crushed one of them on accident. Cussing under his breath, he looked an alarm clock he had set up close by. "6:30, it's almost night," He sighed then drank a water bottle. Setting off towards the surface.

Climbing out of an emergency subway exit that opened up into a back ally. The sun had just set, and the sky was clear of clouds. John set off towards a man who had been giving him information on JTechs. Apparently his brother was the vise president of the company, and is having second thoughts about the company's current involvements.

Sticking to the darker places of the streets, making his way towards one the abandoned buildings that seem to inhabit this area.

[Assistant]
David turned off his tv, and threw his remote, pissed off. Yet another piece about Grayshire and how it was a "great American tragedy". Right. While he blended in with the crowds of New York well enough, minus his occasional visions, he heard what people thought of the survivors. People thought they were freaks. To be honest, he wasn't sure if they were wrong. David didn't find being aware of the multitude of realities to be much of an upside, at least as long as he could barely perceive it.

David swung his legs off of the bed. Enough was enough. He needed to see what happened to Grayshire first hand. He had darted around it long enough. It wasn't like the trip would be long for him. There would likely be no one their, so it wasn't like he could rationalize away from it with his social anxiety. And if things got bad, he could always teleport back to his apartment. Or anywhere else that was safe, for that matter. David gathered his things together, and put his glasses on. Thinking of home was painful, but he needed to know what happened. He thought of the small coffee shop he used to frequent, and teleported to it.

Upon arrival, David immediately began to feel nauseous. Another vision flashed over him. It was mostly a blur, but one thing was clear. If he didn't go back immediately, his projected future would be irrevocably shifted. Slowly getting back on his feet, David finally got a good look around. What he saw was horrifying. The town where he had been born and raised was a mess. David had known it was bad, but he hadn't been around to see what happened after the military arrived. David began to slowly walk through the town, appalled at what was left of his home.

Coming to a corner, David came to the big grocery store. Surprisingly, it was still mostly intact. He was about to get a closer look when he froze in place. There, on a bench across from the store, was a hooded figure in a trench coat. Whatever he was doing on his laptop, though, it seemed like it caused the man to not notice him yet. David began to slowly go back around the corner he came from. However, just when he made it back around, his phone went off. David managed to keep down a swear, and dropped to a crouch. Thinking quickly, he silently teleported behind the register counter in the grocery store, and dropped prone.


[System]
Age: 29

Nationality: German

Base of Operations: Earth; Europe

Class: Duelist

Preferred Advanced Class: Knight

Equipment:
* Main Weapon: Ion Ostryx Battle Axe
* Secondary Weapon: Ion Throwing Knives
* Armor: Ostryx Body Armor
* Gear: Plasmic Grenade

Gene Mods:
* Adaptive Nerve Firing: Allows a soldier to react faster to attacks. Boosting the soldiers Dodge that makes enemies miss more often.
* Adaptive Bone Marrow: Allows a soldier to heal faster than normal and grants Drachen an immunity to Chryssalid Poison.

Appearance:
Drachen is a rather large man, standing at six feet four inches with a heavy build. Thick muscles that would look more at home on a Heavy unit than a Duelist. His skin is darkly tanned from being outside so much, and is littered with numerous scars from various wounds over the years. On his back are a set of draconic wing tattoos that look surprisingly real. He's strangely hairless as well despite his ancestry.

Like the rest of him he's completely bald, whether by choice or not is in his file. Thick black eyebrows rest on a rather thick ridge, making him look angry and casting a small shadow over his eyes. Said eyes are a steel gray in color and slightly sunken. Between his eyes and lower down he has a block-ish nose. His lips are average, but hold a slight natural frown that gives his overall look to be angry.

Backstory:
Drachen was born in Germany a year after the war for Earth was over. His name is kind of a give away on that along with some of a remaining accent. His younger years flew by in an unimportant blur until he joined up with the military. Schools didn't cover the Alien Invasion very well, a lot of hush hush details apparently. Here he learned a lot more on what actually happened in the war by checking records available in his off time.

During training he found that he preferred getting up close and personal instead of hiding a mile away to blow somethings head off. His size, endurance, and overall might, tended to win out over technique when it came to hand to hand. A few Veterans of the War that were still active compared him to a Muton. Although biologically his strength didn't compare to their brutish might. After learning hand to hand techniques he was moved on to learn the weaponry of a Duelist. Swords and throwing knives. Unfortunately the swords were simply too light and adding weight would make the weapon awkward and clumsy. So an axe was made with the same technology. Thankfully an axe tended to follow the same attack patterns as a sword minus drawing cuts.

Unfortunately, in his mind anyway, there weren't any Aliens around after all that training. It was basic patrols, hunts that came up empty, and more training. Well he trained on his own, going above and beyond the norm. Between orders he did everything he could to increase his strength, surpass his previous move speeds, and to hone his reflexes despite the Gene Mods active within his body. Hell the Adaptive Bone Marrow let him abuse himself to go even further beyond normal human standards.

Finally it was decades after the War and Humanity decided it was time to go Alien hunting through space. He didn't really understand the tech to traverse space, would they be in cryo like in the movies? Or did the ships just move that fast now that they could just...warp to the planets and go on the offensive? He'd find out soon enough.

[User]
Hartford Military Base
New Star, Mars Colony
1110 hrs Local Time

The captain listened to each question closely, looking at the speaker accordingly and nodding in acknowledgement to each spoken question. "Good batch of questions, for the most part. We leave in ten, our skimmer will take us to the USS Bronzebeard in orbit and we'll jump to slip space about ten hours after that. There are two other strongholds being attacked simultaneously with our objective, but ours is the closest, so our jump is last. As for the number of tangos, expect numerous, Private Steinboden. This is an enemy stronghold after all, so they won't slouch on keeping it manned. Private Devries, you'll be retaking the course on Earth's interstellar travel when the mission is over, but I have addressed the first question. Your second question's answer is quite simple, and that's that there is no particular rhyme or reason. Another squad is Hawk Squad, you've got the Vengeful Sharks, a Spec Ops team of mostly Rippers with a couple of Reapers in support. So, no particular reason, just where our lot fell most likely."

The captain, having given a quick brief of general details and gotten all the new bloods to talk, walked around the table and hit a button on it, bringing the holographic display up on the fortress that they'd be helping to assault. "And since no one asked, I'll give you guys something more in depth. This is the stronghold Alpha as we've labeled it, though intel says the aliens call it Outpost Warden. Regardless, the official plan that the Commander laid out for us is to insert at the top of the stronghold and work our way down to the main hall while also dealing with any defensive emplacements we can." The gunslinger spoke up at this point.

"But we both know you got a second set of orders from the Commander that weren't so official, which are?" The captain, chuckling softly, nodded.

"He did and that was that the unofficial plan is to move as we see fit and focus on getting to the enemy leadership and contain or neutralize. Orbital support is being tasked to remove anti-air and anti-infantry emplacements on the outside of the outpost. Seems simple enough right?" Damian nodded and took another bite of his jerky as the image shifted to a layout of the Bronzebeard. "Now, as for our accommodations on the Bronzebeard, XCOM units are considered a branch of special forces, so we'll have our own armory, barracks and mess hall for our small unit, though it is encouraged that we mix and mingle with the UEG regulars at meal times and during PT." Snapping his fingers, Captain reached behind him and withdrew three XCOM patches and approached each of the new bloods.

"These are your XCOM patches, signifying that you are members of the unit within the UEG and that if you say your mission is of dire importance, then the regs had better listen to you. However," the change in the captain's tone caused the new bloods to jump, "don't abuse that power. You ever hear of the boy who cried wolf? That's what'll happen to your authority."

Returning to his position at the table, the holographic projection turns off and the Captain starts to walk off. "I'll be back in five to gather you four for the trip up to the Bronzebeard, but until then, get to know each other. You'll be working closely for the foreseeable future." And with that, he and his Gremlin were gone. After a moment of silence, the Irish accent in Damian's voice won out as he jumped down to converse with his new squad mates.

"Alright then, where's everyone from? Hobbies, likes, dislikes?"

[Assistant]
"I'm from South New Star. When I was small, my family immigrated to Mars from France and I love watching holonovels -- especially romance films! I love playing virtual reality games using my neuro-enhancer helmet. I like strategy games and RPGs and first person shooters! And I looove virtual reality dating sims! Not only that, I've logged over 2000 hours in marine combat simulator X. I can totally take out the final boss in The Empire of the Crescent Moon in less than five minutes."

Marcia just wondered if she blabbed too much about herself. I hope they don't think I'm an airhead. I hope they still think I can add my weight in any serious combat situation.

"I love people with courage, and I hate cowards, even though I'm sorta a coward myself."

[User]
---

She could tell she was going to get along very well with the man named Drachen. A hint of acknowledgement, a note of respect sparkled in her violet eyes when she looked at him. It was nothing he said but the attitude in which he carried himself that she found interesting, though his faint German accent sparked a bit of extra camaraderie. However, the question he asked wasn't something that mattered much to her. Her grandfather never cared about how many there were, just that he had to keep fighting for Humanity's future. Now it was her turn to help forge Humanity's destiny among the stars!

The other member of their trio was a woman named Marcia and well...she looked at her a bit stunned for a moment as she asked her questions. That soft, gentle look in her eyes to the way she spoke did not convey the mannerism of someone she expected to see in XCOM "Sure, we put our lives on the line every mission but most dangerous of all...we risked our humanity to defeat them." The words echoed in the back of her mind of a hesitant and sorrowful voice. Helene looked at Marcia warily, but would hold judgement until they got into combat.

Helene leaned forward in her seat, focused solely on the image on the table her mouth slightly open. Old configurations of alien bases were often used to help teach and instruct new recruits, but this was the first time she had seen something like this. The fact they were in charge of assaulting this place in actual mission and not some mock battle made it almost surreal. She became engrossed in its design, trying to commit it to memory when the corporal interrupted and drew her attention away. So the real plan was for the others to take care of the fortifications while they slip in to neutralize any high value targets. Her fingers curled against the fabric of her uniform, tugging at its edges. She couldn't wait to get started.

Attention was shifted back to the display that now showed their vessel. Helene didn't react to the news of their special accommodations as it still felt like a dream. That was until their new captain approached them with their new patches. Helene reached out and took her patch with both hands as if dropping it would cause it to shatter. The overflowing happiness that was almost enough to break her decorum was halted by the words of the captain, so much that a chill raced down her spine "Do not worry about us, Sir! We shall not let that happen!" A crisp, quick salute was accompanied by a fierce look in her eye. The day she had imagined so many times as little girl was here. As her eyes drifted down to the patch, the fingers on her right hand smoothed over the patch to confirm its authenticity. She couldn't wait to send a message back home.

Helene was so lost in thought that she barely heard what the captain said, looking up just as he was already in the process of leaving. Was she sure she heard that right? 'Get to know each other'?Helene looked around still holding the patch closely, her face tense and her eyes unsure. As Damian spoke, she couldn't help but think this wasn't how she expected her career in XCOM to begin. Why waste time playing 20 questions? She just wanted to get things started already. That didn't stop Marcia from grabbing Helene's attention. Probably much to her dismay, her quick onslaught of information had give Helene the exact impression of an airhead. She didn't know taking out this so-called boss in 5 minutes was impressive but she made it sound like some grand achievement. Somehow, this sweet woman was recruited into XCOM and she was going to find out why.

"That is certainly an...interesting list of hobbies. Well it is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Devries."

Hobbies? Likes? Dislikes? These questions all revolved around her least favorite topic "I was born back on Earth. Cologne, Germany." Helene crossed her arms, looking at the rest of the group but not directly "I certaintly dislike talkin about myself, but if it is the captain's orders. I like to hike and camp while watching the stars. There's some places on Earth you can't tell a war ever happened." Helene looked down looking unsatisfied with her own answer, then looked back up "I can't stand people who are all bark and no bite." The pressure between her teeth was enough to snap a tree log. Her brow furrowed as she finished, looking annoyed. With a mission like theirs, she would rather be making preparations than play nice.

[Assistant]
Drachen had his arms folded across his chest as he listened to the Captain. He nodded affirmatives where they fit as the man answered the few questions they had. The team name was just chosen at random, they were assaulting a fortress so the number of enemies would be unknown, they left in ten minutes, and apparently they were assaulting multiple fortresses. Why was the UEG dividing their focus? Or were the other fortresses just to distract from the actual objective of killing or detaining this Ethereal?

The Captain brought up a holo-display of the fort they'd be going to and the names of it. Alpha via human, Warden via Alien. Which got him to tilt his head slightly. "Warden...? Is it supposed to be guarding something...?" He questioned aloud. Maybe they were trying to keep humanity penned in the Sol System? It wasn't likely humanity knew how far spread the aliens were. Shortly after letting them see the display the older officer handed out the XCOM patches with a warning not to abuse the power that came with them.

Who knew a simple patch, even on a Private, would hold such weight. Which was odd. But he didn't run things, he just followed orders.

Shit, now they were told to socialize, get to know each other. Was this some sort of video game? He shook his head when the Captain left
and turned his metallic gaze to the other three. Marcia Devries started them off with a slew of information. Games and reading were her thing, and apparently she was good at them. While also preferring the brave over the coward types. Helene Weisser, a fellow German, preferred more physical things like hiking and camping. She enjoyed doers, not talkers.

Sighing he let his arms drop and slip into his pockets. "I'm from Germany on Earth. In my spare time I like working with metal, making things by hand like in the ancient times." He stated, with his build it was very believable. "I dislike laziness, I like being active." He continued on before looking at the dual wielder expectantly.


[System]
"Never wake me up. Especially if the house is on fire."

Nicknames/Titles: 'Phoenix' is probably the most commonly used. Has been mistaken for many existent gods, called an angel, and the inspiration for some non-existent deities.

Age: When asked about her age, Iravis probably responds with fire in her eyes, her voice rising in volume. "I have received offerings, laughed at Christ's resurrection, turned Latium to ashes, been a companion to Charlemagne in his conquests, and led Tancred over the walls of Jerusalem. I have lived over four thousand years, and am a goddess worthy of worship!"

But her eyes drift downwards after that explanation, her voice suddenly quiet. If she trusts you, she might continue. "I've lived in a cage, a curiosity. Now I've practically become a pet. The most violent thing I've done recently is set fire to the curtains. I just turned seventeen years old..."

Gender: Female
Race: Phoenix

Sexuality: "As a bird, I've always found eagles strangely attractive!"

Year: N/A

Powers: The Goddess has received many over time, but these are the ones she has currently.

Inferno
As a bird of flame, in most of her lives Iravis has been gifted with the ability to wield and manipulate fire. Although able to target an individual, her spells are most useful as an area-of-effect sort of attack. Additionally, the more fire that surrounds her, the stronger she is. This means that fighting in a city grants her an exponential power curve as she burns more of it down. Additionally, it means she is much stronger in deserts and during the day when the sun is out.

Lacrima
As in the legends, the Phoenix is renown for her legendary power of healing. Not only can she never truly die, but her tears are capable of great healing. She also heals faster than normal, having the ability to heal very minor wounds in a few minutes despite having tears. She has never figured out how she respawns, but her dreams are only memories of previous lives.

Phoenix
And of course, she can turn into the phoenix. She hasn't done this yet this life, but she will eventually. As of now, she has to be very frustrated (not necessarily angry) in order to perform the transformation which exhausts her. Lyssa's laptop is currently the only reliable method for this. In both human and bird form she has enhanced vision and hearing. Lastly, her nails in human form are very, very sharp. Like talons.

A massive winged beast, colored orange with the tips of it's wings becoming first red then leading to blue ends that seem to dance like fire. Its eyes were sapphires, the deepest blue of the Nile.

A storyteller could spend a thousand other lines describing the beast's majesty, the bird's divine presence.

Smite
Honestly, she's never fired the spell. She has no idea what it does.

Strengths: Both of her magic has extremely high potential in both human and bird form. Very few have been able to surpass her, and around age 300 she reaches a nearly unstoppable peak of strength. Additionally, it is very hard to actually burn her.

Weaknesses: Both of her magics are also uncontrollable. If angry, surrounding fires will begin to rise uncontrollably. Her tears of healing can be taken through beatings, allowing her worst enemies to heal from her power. While around 135 she is able to control her full mana at will, but up until then it usually leads to disaster.

Catalyst: She is awaiting an offering from a mortal.

Inventory: Typically whatever she has been offered. In this case, the dress featured in the picture.

Master: N/A

Squad Name: N/A

Personality: Being praised as a goddess in her dreams, Iravis sometimes forgets that she isn't one. Her mood often depends on what she remembered the night before, leading to a strange randomness where she experiences happiness, sadness, horniness, fear, and all the other emotions throughout the day as she copes with the memories. Iravivs' sarcasm is legendary, largely due to the fact that death is really, really meaningless for her. Although in this life she tends towards being weak and submissive, some days she is extremely confrontational and argues with dragons.

Backstory: Born some time before 2000 BC, an Egyptian girl entered an argument with a man who claimed he was a god. Turns out the man actually was Ra, Egyptian bird God of the Sun. As punishment, she was cursed with the inability to die. Her memories rarely go back this far, so she knows very little about her initial life as a human.

Appearing many times in history, she has always favored the Greeks and the Egyptians. But as with humans, she always follows the one she loves first. Her death usually is caused by her love one way or another in the end, but the Phoenix never got angry about it. She believes a few times she has actually approached her ex-lover in the next life and had nice conversations. Henry VIII had her three times, which she thinks is the currently held record.

The First Crusade: 1,2
In this life, for her youngest years she was held captive by a group of corrupt mages, literally having the tears beat out of her. Kept in a room, she was taught about language, math, history and many other things by her captors. Iravis never figured out who was benefiting from her healing magic, and never could figure out why her captors didn't throw her in a literal cage.

Eventually, a group of mages from Liseranna rescued her and brought her to the place she calls home now...

Summary, Days 3-9

[User]
Alucard

Alucard smirked, his vantage point was better than he'd thought. Initially it had just been to keep out of sight and keep eyes on anything interesting. What hadn't realized was that he now had an extremely good view of several people's anatomy, what's more they weren't even aware of it. Something to note for the future, in fact, Alucard was surprised he hadn't thought of this sooner. His name sake was half vampire after all. He listened primary to the demon girl listing the sweets she enjoyed and jotting them down on a piece of paper, as well as noting her attempts to bed the redhead. Hm, he might have competition. Or an ally, depending on her preference. Something else to find out about. Alastair seemed to have made no friends with his boast and display of power, unsurprising. Even more people seemed to have the intent to leave.

Though some were attempting to form teams, he could note down any teams that did form and their members so as to be better prepared for the games. All in all he had made an excellent choice. Sometimes his genius surprised even himself. He eyed the desk Alastair had put the spear hungrily, he wanted it. Partly for the reason that he couldn't, partly to spite the teacher, and partly because it was shiny. Perhaps if he stayed long enough it would be left alone. Good things to those who wait. To help make sure he wasn't rooted out Alucard activated his magic, one tattoo glowing softly. He began to become less noticeable, simply less there to begin with, blending in with the background. A trivial cost for a trivial benefit. After all he didn't want to get into too much trouble if someone noticed him attempting to remain un-detected. Naturally he was technically not doing anything wrong but he'd found that people tended not to give him the benefit of the doubt.

[Assistant]
Lin Hua

"W-W-W-What the hell are you doing, Shikio? T-T-That's something o-o-only lovers should do!" Lin was quick to yank his hand back after Shikio took a hold of it.

Sadly for him, the boy was incredibly more naive and innocent that he would like to think.

After that, he sighed and shook his head again. Well, it definitely helped him get his head out of the gutter, at the very least.

"Let's hurry for the infirmary. I'm gettin' hungry too." Lin continued walking towards the infirmary with Shikio on toll. "I'll tell you all about the Eye and the games as we walk there."

Lin then cleared his throat and started explaining everything to Shikio.

"See here, there was once a great magician by the name Baphel. He was the one that divided magic in the schools we know today." He moved his index finger as he explained his case.

"So, after he was done with that, the man made a ritual in order to pass down a single part of his body through the ages. So, his Eye has gone through the ages for some time now. It grants its user incredible power and it also produces an insane amount of negative energy. Usually, the heir suffers of bad luck but-!"

Wait... couldn't Shikio actually help him with this? She could be in the lookout for who's got the Eye if it is among her roommates!

After his realization, Lin coughed some before getting back on track with his explenation. "But also has access to increasingly powerful magic. Their magical power is often great and unusually powerful. Usually, when someone isn't from a noble house and still has great magical powers, it is because they are the Heir Of Baphel."

After that, Lin turned to Shikio with hopeful eyes.

"In any case, Shikio, this will be a race against the others. The Magus Games are a competition as well, so I want you to keep an eye out for anyone who seems suspicious. Just... don't leap on top of them when you think someone is the heir, a'ight? If we win, we might as well become as powerful as Baphel himself."

A boost in Lin's power would be a boost in the Fenrir's power as well, after all.

---

---

Charlotte

Charlotte tilted her head to the side after Meruin's first word.

"People say that a lot, actually. Am I really that odd?" Charlotte brought a single finger to her chin as she wondered whether the girl was right or not.

What she said afterwards surprised the girl, and she probably overreacted too. "Eh?! You are going to sleep?! This early? But what about the other classes?! Or do you just... really don't care?"

Well, that was odd. What was she even doing at school if she really didn't care about the classes? Since, well, school was a place to learn things, right? Then again, she could be jumping to conclusions and there were actually no more classes to worry about, ergo, the girl was free to go wherever she wanted and that only made Charlotte a really loud nuisance.

Probably it was the latter.

Then, the girl said that she actually did mind her going after her.

Charlotte's shoulders dropped and her enthusiasm had completely disappeared, being replaced by a gloomy mood and a sad little face that would've made even the most heartless of men repent over the words that brought forth such a face.

"I-I see... I'm sorry for disturbing you, then." The girl turned on her heel and went back into the classroom.

"Don't be an idiot, Charlotte. Go after her! She wants you to go after her! It is the typical 'They run away because they want to be chased'!"

"Eh? Don't they normally run away 'cause they don't like being chased?"

"A shikigami friend o' mine told me this once. When a chick is all stoic and calm, that means she is a Kuudere. Once you melt that ice, you can get to the sweet, sweet fiery insides of the girl *slurp*." It was the sound of something licking something else.

Honestly, Charlotte did not understand a single thing of what the spirit was saying, but she did arrive to a rather simpel conclusion.

"Soooo.... should I go after her?"

"Please. And walk behind her, if you can. I wanna enjoy the spectacle."

"Err, sure?"

Confused, Charlotte still did as she was told and followed behind Meruin. She'd also probably follow her no matter where she went. Yes, even the bathroom. Perhaps that's where Balphegor most wanted to go.

---

[User]
The hellion giggled, then gave the goddess a sly grin. The sort a lady gave when suddenly interested polishing the tools of matrimony. The phoenix smiled back, confident her innocent roomate had never even imagined such things. The goddesses eyes drifted down to the demon's bosom. Age isn't the issue ... how would it work? Would laughter consume the chamber with every ... Those thoughts were quickly dispelled as the Goddess became certain in her omnipotence that that sort of thing would never occur between Lyssa and another creature, giving herself a slight nod of confirmation.

"Buuuut, I wouldn't mind sharing a bed with you any day."

 The urge to reincarnate on the spot was tremendous. But the Phoenix was certain that this would haunt the memories of at least the next five lives, so killing herself wouldn't be overly beneficial.

 She cursed the entire Egyptian and Greek pantheons as the Phoenix's cheeks began to match the color of her hair.

 The goddess decided she should at least offer Ra one last attempt at renewing her faith that the world had any sense of order. "What EXACTLY did you mean by that?" Her smile remained, trying to sound as innocent as possible.


[System]
Gender: Male

Apperance: (Ignore the little Makar, unless they actually exist…)

Link is a little guy for his age, just over 5 foot in height and very light. As pictured, is skin is slightly tanned.

Age: 16

Race: Hylian/Gerudo

Skills: * Link is a pretty efficient all-round little warrior, his skills in swordplay are unmatched. He's very precise with a keen eye, despite being rather clumsy too.
* He has an unnaturally high level of physical strength, despite his size and stature. While it is a gift, it is also a curse; he has very little control over it, his strength often getting him into trouble and repelling other people away from him. As such, he appears doomed to loneliness unless he can learn to control himself.
* A quick problem solver and intelligent; however, his intelligence is limited to being a quick learner and quick to understand. He doesn't have much common sense and is easily stressed.
* Growing up with a blacksmith means he can repair, sharpen and create weaponry and armour himself.

Magic Abilites: Shadow: His power in the dark arts appears unlimited, yet very limited at the same time. While he holds an incredible amount of magical power in the shadow, he doesn't know how to use it or control it. Despite his incredibly high level of shadow power, his heart is pure and his intentions are good.

Weapons: Meister: A weapon he constructed himself after a weapon reoccurring in his dreams. It's very durable, but very heavy. He uses the weight to try and help control his strength. He named it what he thought it was.

Inventory: Due to just being a little troubled kid, he doesn't have much to start other than a few potions.

Bio: Link was born an ordinary boy, only problem was he was adopted rather than born into a normal home. His mother was nothing but a prostitute who got unlucky, promptly abandoning the boy and her burden. No matter, he was able to have a normal upraising with the man who found him crying, alone and vulnerable. He stayed with a blacksmith as he grew up, one that made it his duty to keep Link happy, even if it meant lying to him about his true origins. He didn't want to upset the boy or allow him to grow up to be a rebel; however, his own natural abilities were shown to be the true rebel.

He lived and grew up in Kakariko Village, training himself up to hopefully try and make something of himself. All due to those who teased him as he grew, all due to his unstable abilities, he was determined to find a way to get people to like him. He never had many people who would consider him to be a friend, his abilities proving to be more threatening to them than what it was worth being friends for. He grew quiet over the years, determined to control himself and prove to them that he was not a monster in the disguise of a boy.

[User]
"Er... That's one way to look at it, I suppose," Caelan remarked, furrowing his brow as he gave Link a funny look, "You... Know what I did before this, right? I'm a treasure hunter, I've had more than enough trouble come my way. If you think some fighting is going to make me miss what could be the biggest haul ever then you're wrong." Something had to come of this journey, there was no way he'd go through this entire thing and not make some sort of a profit. Who knows, maybe for playing a part in helping to settle this mess he'd even be rewarded by the royal family, now that would make it worthwhile. Kind of forgetting Demoko was with them, Caelan glanced at the older man curiously as he began going on, recounting all they had done and would do. Sheesh, wasn't there a way to go about this that didn't involve fighting all the most dangerous of beasts?

Things got a touch awkward there for a moment when Link began getting snippy, something unusual in his experience. All of them were exhausted from that ordeal, his own body felt like there were several rocks tied to it and weighing it down, but he wasn't going to have a fit over it. Then again he wasn't being tasked with saving the world either, so that pressure wasn't felt on his end. The fact they were going to make an attempt at rescuing the princess sounded like a suicide mission right now, what with their exhausted states and reduced numbers. Even if they were at full strength though he was hard pressed to see it happen; Onyx had barely been defeated, how were they supposed to beat whoever else awaited them? The fact they needed pieces of the Triforce of all things told him just how dangerous this business was, and it was almost enough to make Caelan back out then and there. If he did though then he may lose out on one heck of an adventure, not to mention whatever goods might be lying in wait.

"If you're going to go do that, then Link and I should rest for a bit," Caelan suggested, "I mean, we're basically the group for now, right? There's no way we're getting anything done like this, so we might as well call it a day here." That aside, there wasn't any chance Link was doing much of anything right now, he could tell that much. Their best chance was to relax for the day, maybe once he got enough strength back he could heal them up, and then and ONLY then should they be on their way. Giving himself one last shake to try and get rid of some water, the mage let out a sigh and ruffled his damp hair, looking up stream and wondering just how many people had ended up falling today. A bit of a grim thought, but that had been a mother of a battle and he'd not seen anyone walk away. "At any rate... I don't think we really have any plan, so nothing to do other than sit back and take a load off for the day. You two got any idea where the nearest town is? I could go and buy us some supplies, looks like we need them."

[Assistant]
Link looked between Demoko and Caelan before letting out a heavy groan, slowly rubbing his head. They both had so much confidence that it was almost annoying him, stemming from the fact he had little himself and didn't have a choice on any of these matters to begin with. Caelan could go and be done with it, but Demoko was going to try and drag him away to his doom just to see out his destiny. He couldn't see how he had any say in the matter of whether they should go and get the Princess or leave her where she is where she's probably confident she has everything under control anyway. Getting angry was the only way he could vent his frustration, but that certainly didn't help the fact that he was getting overly frustrated with the fact he struggled to tell them about the amulet. Almost reaching into his tunic to pull it out he eventually sighed and decided against it, shaking his head.

Just how was he supposed to say anything about it? Contemplating it for a moment he gasped slightly when Demoko placed a hand on his shoulder, his eyes going straight to it before he stared up at Demoko. There he was overestimating his strength again, as usual. His 'full potential' was when he eventually did transform into the destroyer he was predicted to become so that was hardly a very fair comparison. Having the slight hope that Demoko would ask why he felt he couldn't function he was disappointed when he took that as a sign of tiredness over what power he had, frowning as he looked away again. "Sure, sure…of course…just tired or whatever. Absolutely nothing else…"

Moving away a little he soon let out a loud sigh and threw his arms up as he decided to get up, walking a few steps away. What agony this was and it could be completely prevented if he could just open his mouth and say, but then again with Demoko not giving any hints that he might know about it already he wondered what exactly the amulet hid. Demoko was supposed to know a whole lot about the future and he should surely know about this from that, but he didn't appear to have any knowledge. Looking back as Caelan spoke up again he lowered his head, feeling it was best as well to not continue on for now. It would give him time to wait for the amulet to be ready and for all this guilt to go away. Slowly rubbing his chest, he turned around at the suggestion of supplies, not seeing that as a particularly good idea. "You're probably going to be hunted too! What if you don't come back? You could get captured and tortured and killed…and then what? You'll be gone and then I'll be alone with-…I just-…it's dangerous to go alone and there's nothing and nobody you can take to help".

[User]
Link was stressing out, anyone with a decent pair of eyes could see that much. Though Caelan was feeling quite a lot too he wasn't going to break down like that, it was just something you couldn't be doing out here. He'd spent a fair share of his earlier days freaking out whenever he and his companions at the time hit a roadblock, and all it did was waste time and make everything harder. Best to just swallow your worries and deal with it later, far as he was concerned. That was what he'd like to say, but somehow he figured it wasn't exactly going to sit too well with Link; the other boy needed some kind of reassurance most likely and that was something well outside of his expertise. There seemed to be some kind of loss of translation between Link and Demoko as well, causing the former even more grief than he already had. Caelan wasn't too sure what he was on about either, but at least he recognized there was more to it than simply being tired, you only had to listen to the kid to figure that much out.

With their numbers seriously reduced and both him and Link exhausted, Caelan couldn't see any recourse other than taking a break. Trying to travel now was going to be hell, and they weren't even sure where it was they were heading yet. The banks of a river ought to be as good a place to rest as any too, as they'd have water and perhaps a place to catch fish, if they were lucky. Getting food here wasn't their only cause for concern however, as they also had nothing on them for the road; if anyone had supplies then they were exhausted or gone in the currents, and as things stood there was nothing. They could get water from his waterskin to be fair, but that didn't help their case unless fish came in it too. Maybe then heading to the nearest town was their best course of action, just to get some supplies and get some bearings on where they were heading. Like seemingly everything today however it had triggered an uneasy response in Link.

"It's not the first time I'll have sneaked into a town, and it won't be the last," Caelan remarked confidently, smirking as he removed his shirt and squeezed a little excess water out before slipping it back on. "If you're worried about me going alone then come with me. Depending on where we are I might know someone who can help, and even if not I'll find a way to get us in unseen. Also I don't know what you mean by nobody, you're here aren't you?" Man, this kid had zero confidence didn't he? Rubbing at his head he looked over to Demoko, hoping the old man might be able to give them a hand here. "You know we need supplies too, don't you? If you can just tell us which direction the nearest town is then Link and I can head there tomorrow. We won't last very long if we don't have any food for the trip." Being captured and killed was a possibility, sure, especially after defeating Onyx and a few dozen soldiers; if they didn't do anything though then starvation was a possibility too, unless they were lucky and found food every time they needed it. Meals out in the wild were unpredictable, he'd rather have something in tow just in case they struck out.

[Assistant]
"Well this may be somewhat of a surprise for you, but we are directly under Castle Town. The city was built over this temple in an age long forgotten to many. There are very many secret passages that lead to the upper city all controlled to sympathizers of our cause." Demoko said pulling out a map of the temple and laying it down on a broken slab of rock. It had dozens of highlighted routes that led to Castle Town up above. There was even one passage that led to Hyrule Castle. He also pulled some rings and laid them on the table. "I know tricks never usually work twice in a row, but I think there is definitely an exception to that rule. These rings will change your features enough to be unrecognizable. I figure that with us being inside the city already, I highly doubt they will have as many people on the lookout for us. Thallus would never leave the Castle unguarded, but his armies are stretched out across this land as well as the surrounding ones."

It was for sure a risky move to use the rings again, but they also weren't trying to make it through a checkpoint with someone looking them over head to toe, as well as two of Father Thallus' two greatest warriors being present for the inspection. Regol moved next to Demoko and the others and created out of the shadows in the room a 3D layout of Castle Town as well as where the passages connect to the surface. He highlighted one that came up into the Market place which is where they needed to go if they were on the lookout for supplies.

[User]
Link couldn't tell them anything and that was killing him, making him feel absolutely terrible for hiding a secret from them both that could just end with them losing everything. He still couldn't understand how Demoko wasn't noticing his obvious lack of soul and Caelan was just an unlucky man getting all mixed up in this mess. He wanted to make it all better by getting rid of the amulet and breaking it open, but he had to wait just a little bit longer before he could do that and even then he would probably have to do it in secret in case there was some light show. They were never going to succeed with him having this disadvantage, especially when he could barely lift a sword nevermind fight the forces of evil.

Staring at Caelan who remained fairly persistent with his plans he raised his shoulders, slowly looking away with little response. He knew he could go and get some supplies, but he would be seen and probably pulled out of the crowd quicker than Caelan could realise he was gone. He didn't exactly blend in with the crowd and he was wanted, so that was going to be very risky either way. Sighing lightly, he glanced at Caelan again before towards Demoko who decided to give up the little secret to their location. "What? That's the worst place to be!" he gasped, grabbing hold of his ears momentarily before looking back to Demoko, "The rings barely worked a first time! We were still ambushed and everybody ended up battered and broken…it's a disaster!"

Link really couldn't support this decision, but it wasn't as if he was going to have a choice in the matter when it came to plans and what might happen in the future. Looking tired and defeated he lowered his hands to his side, looking to Regol in some distaste before to the model he was creating. He still didn't agree with this, at least not until he was himself again. He wondered if Regol knew he was missing his own powers, but then again the guy couldn't even speak so that was a plus. Looking towards Caelan he frowned, slumping his shoulders. "I guess…we should go and find supplies. Only for a little bit! I-I'm still…not feeling completely myself. Everyone I know got hurt, I got hurt. Fighting just now seems like it'll just kill me over anything else. How are we supposed to do anything when we have this many people…?"