[System]
Gender: Male

Age: 29

Stand: (Don't Fear) The Reaper

Appearance: Lindemann is halfway between the ideal German and their most hated enemy. With piercing blue eyes and slightly off-blonde hair he fits the aryan archtype, but a hooked nose and slight medeterranian tint to his skin belay an entirely different ethnicity. In the relative chill of Northern France and Germany he near-perpetually wears a heavy greatcoat, the belt of which is always left undone to flap in the wind. Beneath this he actually dresses fairly well and very much unlike a soldier, with a waistcoat, neatly polished shoes and a wide brimmed hat. He also has recently taken to carrying a pair of aviator sunglasses, tucked into a front pocket and rarely actually put on his face.

Skills: Lindmann was a ruthless, brainwashed soldier for the reich, but brainwashed didn't mean stupid. Single-minded, psychopathic and held back by only the commands of his superiors, his ability to sniff out enemy stand users and what they might be up to were second to none, and any foolish enough to challenge his stand in one-to-one combat was quickly dispatched. The perfect operative.

And a very, very large thorn in the Gestapo's side now that he's no longer under their thumb. Till has extensive knowledge of the systems that monitor stand users within the Axis territories and his knowledge of once-allied stand users is impressive to say the least. When you combine this with a proficiency in most modern weaponry and a burning desire for revenge, you have one potent package.

History: To the Nazis, Till Lindmann was irrelevant apart from one small detail; his paternal grandparents were Jewish. He never understood what joined him with the people whom he was put into a ghetto with, that part of his geneology largely a myth to him, and the quiet butcher's boy wasted away under reduced rations and the oppressive atmosphere of the slums. Still, most would call him a very resolute man, and he had to be, for failing to be resoute would let Reaper loose.

All of this was to be for nought though, because eventually Till's ticket was punched. He was placed on a one-way trip to a labour camp near Oświęcim. Crammed into train cars like cattle, an elderly priest would teach the man a breathing technique supposed to calm the mind, settle the nerves and train the body, a skill he practised even whilst brainwashed. Departing the trains, his ability was quckly discovered, and whilst others were stripped of their lives, he was taken to a seperate area of the camp. An area of sterile buildings and bright white lights, where something happened, and Till Lindmann stopped existing, and Herr Lindmann started to exist. Brainwashed, mind controlled, call it what you will, but he was a puppet to Germany and to his stand, something that has only recently changed.

Other:

Stand Name: 「(Don't Fear) The Reaper」, often just 'The Reaper' or even 'Reaper' for short.

Stand Parameters:
A
B
C
B
A
B

Stand Description: (Don't Fear) The Reaper appears as a tall, relatively thin yet still powerfully muscled figure. It wears a thick cloak that mimics the appearance of Till's greatcoat, but undearneath this has a distinctly skeletal look to it, its muscles tight against its skin, and the sinew and bone visible in places. Most notable however is that as of recently its hands have changed from their natural colour into a deep crimson, something that it did not have before.

Unusually for a stand, (Don't Fear) The Reaper is fully anthropomorphic- it expresses a personality, will and desires of its own, none of which are pleasant. Reaper represents the worst of Till; his bottled up rage, fury and terror, and were he not in full control of his mind, would doubtless use the opportunity to freely indulge in any manner of bloodthirsty delights. Till must act as his stand's conscience, but the rewards for doing so are a close-ranged powerhouse fully dedicated to its own (and thus, Till's,) preservation.

Power Description: Besides being a formidable brawler, (Don't Fear) The Reaper also boasts a peculiar ability- it can make anything sharp. This ranges from the expected (dull blades,) to the understandable but less logical, (the edge of a coat,) to things that physically cannot be sharp, such as water and sunbeams. Beyond this though, Reaper also has the unusual ability to make other things 'sharp' too; after all, language is a funny thing, and wouldn't it be a shame if that tank suddenly veered widely off course with a sharp turn?

Other:

[User]
As the group made to get into the plane, Taras merely nodded to the women as a way to acknowledge their greetings. Oscuro, an American, made up the other of the pair of women he'd be working with. Small, but dangerous - that was the kind of vibe Kiara gave off. That kind of aura could be appreciated by Taras, but unfortunately it seemed like she might be also be the talkative type similar to Cakebread Yonaka. Taras wasn't a man who would judge people on things they couldn't control, such as being unfortunate enough to be born in the United States or seeming to be of Japanese-descent despite a clear British accent, but he would happily, happily, judge enough on a first impression alone. Musical discussion was not something he wanted for a first impression, so as soon as Kiara entered the small plane Taras pushed in after her, cramming the three of them into the confining space and slammed the door after him.

...saying it was cramped was an understatement. Perhaps the two smaller women would have been fine, but with Taras inside as well there was barely room enough to breathe let alone stretch out. When the co-pilot mentioned the air would thin out, the bulky Russian man couldn't stop the small frustrated noise that escaped him. Cold, windy, cramped, and hard to breathe? What more could a man ask for?

<I'll make someone pay for this> Taras sighed under his breath in his native language. As the plane was just taking off, he already couldn't wait for it to touch down in France. It wasn't really the mission or his fellow agents that had him in such a sour mood - just that, there was a certain comfort level he preferred to travel in. It most definitely was not this. Once on the ground he'd get re-acquainted with, and hopefully not loathe, the women he was with and meet the agents already in the area, and he'd go about his mission as usual. Just... had to get through this awful flight first.

As Kiara and Chloe attempted conversation in the dismal conditions, Taras tried his best to settle in. He tucked his chin against his chest as he leaned as far back as possible, letting his eyes fall closed.

"Hope you are comfortable, ladies," he said, his deep voice dripped with the most professional tone of sarcasm, "I will take the pallet when we land. If you are dizzy do not bang anything, deal with it. Spokoynoy nochi."

His words left no room for argument, but even if the women tried to talk to Taras he'd be ignoring everyone and everything until they touched down. After that, with some breathing room, he'd be much more inclined to cooperate. For now, he used his experience sleeping in holes and trenches to block everything out and let his frustration melt away with rest before arrival in France.

[Assistant]
Chloe Bridgette Cakebread-Yonaka

 Chloe listened intently, trying to make room as she was squished further against the far window. As the pilot spoke, she laughed a little bit. The plane began to take off and it was a bit unnerving. "Only the best, eh?" She remarked with a giggle. Leaning back she played some kind of beat on the pants of legs with her hands. Leaning over to the glass she watched as the ground began to fanish and fade into the faint morning fog. As Tupolev spoke she compressed her lips with an unimpressed smirk.

 "I'm already feelin' a bit sick. Sick of your attitude." She then laughed stupidly at her own bad joke. She didn't mean to genuinely insult the person of course, it was all in good fun. What a miserable flight! Where do they even come up with this stuff? They really couldn't have gotten a bigger plane? It was just ridiculous, that's all. The cargo was important, apparently. Tupolev claimed to want to take it, which was, whatever.

 Staring at Kiara, the poor unfortunate in the middle, Chloe grimaced a smile. "S'a bit cozy, innit?"

 "Reminds me a' the time I got stuck in the crawlspace under my house. Fortunately this time there's no mice. If anything it was a good thing I got down there cuz me da didn't know we had mice. Though I certainly didn't appreciate it at the time. S'what I get for crawlin' around where I shouldn't eh? Musta been oh, eight or nine at the time, can't quite remember. S'just as cold though, that's for sure, and just as hard to breathe, though for different reasons. Ah, but don't worry, I made it out just fine, as you can see." She leveled a finger pointedly at Kiara and made a knowing look.

 "Me brother, are on the other hand? Was just a bit thicker than me at the time. Some reckon he's still down there to this day. Hard to tell. One day we went down there to feed him the usual, only to find a hole in the dirt. Was caved in, but me mum recognized it as tunnel. Became a mole man, he did. Dug himself to freedom- haven't seen him since. Wish him all the best, though."  Almost involuntarily she reached into her front jacket pocket and fetched a cigarette from inside. Placing it between her lips she frowned, blinked, and then placed it back inside her pocket.

 "Moral of the story? Make the best of what's given to ya. Or just give up and become a mole man, I guess."  She said with a wistful look out the window. Smiling over at Kiara she looked at the American's hair once again than made eyecontact.

 "So, Kiara, your hair always that color? Looks good on ya that's for sure. The white bit, that is. Unless you've already gone white from stress cuz of all my carryin' on. N'which case, real sorry 'bout that." Chloe said with an apologetic shrug and a cheeky grin.

[User]
𝕶𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖆 𝕺𝖘𝖈𝖚𝖗𝖔 // 𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝕸𝖚𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗
⊰Watch the way I navigate⊱
//

"Oh, I wish, but I never really had the time to learn an instrument. I can sing a little bit, though."

Kiara had gotten a few voice lessons from an old girlfriend who worked as a singer at one of the boss' clubs; it was a fond memory, but she wasn't about to share that specific detail of her life.

The little plane was certainly uncomfortable, but she wouldn't have gotten this far without being able to deal with a little discomfort. She listened to Chloe's story with an amused smile. After having to cozy up to some of the most boring men in existence in order to carry out her hits, Kiara had learned to appreciate a good storyteller. She liked Chloe already.

"That is quite the tale. Can't say I've got anything as interesting, though there was that one time I was almost buried alive…"

She preened a little at the compliment to her hair, "Oh, thank you! It's natural. Hah, don't worry, you're making this flight much more entertaining than it would have been."

[Assistant]
Beginning Descent, T-0.2 hours

The plane had now definitely begun to go downwards. After more than two hours in the frigid fuselage, it was probably a relief to most inside, especially what with the cramped conditions. To the pilot in the front however, it was the worst of times. The small size and lack of any lights on their aircraft had meant that it had snuck by German air and ground patrols without any problems, but now came the time when they were most visible. The co-pilot was frantically trying to identify the right place to land, the pilot having to take to hedgehopping in order to avoid any potential prying eyes in the sky. Then, at last, after a torturous amount of time circling the countryside, the exact position would be discovered.

Pulling sharply to one side, he would veer the craft around, before pulling up ever so slightly. They needed to... There! As the plane thundered towards one field, flames lit up. Hay bales, he realised, set alight so that they would know where to land. Circling around once to get a proper straight at the runway, the pilot would cut the speed down and lower the landing gears, holding their breath as they brought the plane down lower and lower. Then, with a thump and a screech as wheels came against dry straw, they would make their landing. Almost as soon as they had stopped the pilot slammed open the hatch between them and the fuselage.

"GO! GO! GO! GO!"

The second all crew and cargo were out, the plane would be off again. French partisans threw buckets of water over the hay, and as the first tendrils of smoke made their way up into the mightnight blue sky, the plane would already be in the air, whirling around and gunning the engines back towards England. Hopefully the boche hadn't noticed anything; especially with the low flying they had done earlier. "Best of luck chaps," the co-pilot would say to an empty cargo dock, before pulling the flaps of his hat down tighter and focusing on the sky ahead of them.

---

"Oberführer, please."

"No." The cyborg would turn to look down at the besunglassed stand user, a faint scowl visible on his face. "If there is even a mote that it may be him, I refuse wholeheartedly." Blonde hair and blue eyes against blonde hair and blue eyes; two ideal Germans staring each other down... Although one of them had a rather interesting construction over his eye. "Besides, I am to be deployed to the Eastern Front soon. The Führer work in Russia is not yet complete."

"You were commended to me based on your courage, yet you refuse to do this?" Till's own scowl would slowly spread across his face.

"I do it not out of cowardice. I do it out of respect. Find someone else." The man would slam his mechanical hand down against the table, causing Till to raise an eyebrow.

"Very well. As you wish Oberführer." Till stood up, adjusting his tie as he did so. Turning away from the cyborg, he would calmly close the door behind him, shaking his head as he did so. So much potential... But alas, he would just have to make do with what he had. How would this impudent fool targeting the reich feel when they had the power of multiple stands staring them down? They were already dead, they just didn't know it.


[System]
Warrior

---

-------STATISTICS-------

-------MASTERIES-------

| VIT -- 27 | 65% | BLADES -- C
| MGT -- 12 | 80% | POLEARMS -- E
| SKI -- 3 | 35% | AXES/BLUNT -- E
| SPD -- 11 | 50% | BOWS/RANGED -- D
| SRT -- 2 | 15% | THEURGY -- N/A
| MND -- 0 | 0% | MYSTICISM -- N/A
| LUK -- 5 | 30% |
| DEF -- 2 | 50% |
Secondary Statistics

WGT -- 9
ACC -- 12
AVO -- 6
RES -- 1
CRT -- 4

---

Traits:

- INDOMITABLE: Character permanently gains +7 VIT.
- BATTLE FURY: MGT increased by +3 and DEFENSE by +3 when VIT is below 50%

---

* Bronze Short Sword

	+ MIGHT | 3 / 13
	+ ACCURACY | 85 / 97
	+ WEIGHT | 2
	+ CONDITION | 25/25
	+ RANGE | 1
	+ SPECIAL | N/A
	+ COST | 135

* Breastplate

	+ DEFENSE | 3
	+ CONDITION | 40/40
	+ WEIGHT | 4
	+ SPECIAL | N/A
	+ COST | 270

* Heater Shield

	+ DEFENSE | 3
	+ WEIGHT | 3
	+ SPECIAL | N/A
	+ COST | 260

Possessions:
- -15 aurum (owe 15 aurum to Iddin)

- Personality / Appearance* Siris has a pretty average personality for someone of his age. He's relatively pretty open and light-hearted, he likes getting drunk and enjoys trying to flirt (and hopefully succeed) with pretty women. Although, he never oversteps his bounds when it comes to women because of what happened to his mother. His personality is a little different when it comes to fighting, having been disciplined a lot by his father, he keeps a level and calculative head in battle most of the time. He does at times though lose a bit of that composure when he starts getting highly pressured in combat. He reaches a sort of fighting-high where he's smiling and enjoying the adrenaline of the high stakes duel, although this is mostly due to his very mistaken feeling of invulnerability caused from his young age and from his training making him he's stronger than he is and thus that he won't actually die.
* He's a 23 year old male, 5'7" tall with a pretty solid build of muscle but not to the point of hampering movement. Other features are that he has black hair, green/hazel eyes, and a couple of various scars under his shirt from previous fights either with his father or others.

- Backstory* Siris was the first and only born to two loving parents. They raised him to be a good boy, his father a relatively strong combatant from years of service as a soldier and his mother a simple peasant woman. His father began teaching him the basics of swordplay from around 10 years of age, although in a very light way. Eventually that changed when Siris was 16 and his mother was abducted, his father and several guards went to look for her only to be too late as she had been abused and murdered. Although Siris was very sad but it didn't affect his behaviour much unlike his father who had become much less joyful and decided to leave the army and find simpler work. From 16 to 22 years of age his father was much more severe in his now general combat training, although Siris knew it was all for his protection. Eventually when Siris was 22 his father grew very ill, his last words to Siris being that what he wants most is for him to have a good and happy life. After his death and burial, Siris wandered around for a while doing odd jobs here and there before finally joining the company. He has now been with the company a little over a month.

[User]
---

FOES

NONE

BLUE YEEK WARRIOR

| VIT -- 11 BLADES -- C
| MGT -- 4 POLEARMS -- D
| SKI -- 5 AXES/BLUNT -- E
| SPD -- 6 BOWS/RANGED -- E
| SRT -- 0 THEURGY -- N/A
| MND -- 0 MYSTICISM -- N/A
| LUK -- 4

* YEEK CLAWS

	+ MIGHT | 1
	+ ACCURACY | 80
	+ WEIGHT | 0
	+ RANGE | 1
	+ SPECIAL | Thin and nigh serrated, natural weapons of the Yeek.
	+ CLASS | BLADE

* GNARLED SPEAR

	+ MIGHT | 3
	+ ACCURACY | 80
	+ WEIGHT | 4
	+ CONDITION | 5/5
	+ RANGE | 1
	+ SPECIAL | Little more than a tree limb, knapped to a point.
	+ CLASS | POLEARM

* GNARLED JAVELIN

	+ MIGHT | 2
	+ ACCURACY | 65
	+ WEIGHT | 5
	+ CONDITION | 5/5
	+ RANGE | 1-2
	+ SPECIAL | A little more craftsmanship was put into this tree limb, it might just fly straight.
	+ CLASS | POLEARM

* YEEK HIDE

	+ DEFENSE | 1
	+ WEIGHT | 0
	+ SPECIAL | Rubbery and blue.

JITTERY -- After engaging in battle, this unit may move to an unoccupied adjacent tile.

BLUE YEEK ENSI

| VIT -- 9 BLADES -- D
| MGT -- 2 POLEARMS -- E
| SKI -- 2 AXES/BLUNT -- E
| SPD -- 8 BOWS/RANGED -- E
| SRT -- 5 THEURGY -- C
| MND -- 0 MYSTICISM -- N/A
| LUK -- 6

* YEEK CLAWS

	+ MIGHT | 1
	+ ACCURACY | 80
	+ WEIGHT | 0
	+ RANGE | 1
	+ SPECIAL | Thin and nigh serrated, natural weapons of the Yeek.
	+ CLASS | BLADE

* Heal -- 𒀀

	+ MIGHT | 0 (As Melee)
	+ ACCURACY | 90 (As Melee)
	+ WEIGHT | 0
	+ CONDITION | 20
	+ RANGE | 1
	+ SPECIAL | Restores VIT to an adjacent ally equal to (SRT+7)
	+ COST | 250

* Word of Zuug-Agbliish -- 𒀯

	+ MIGHT | 1 (As Melee)
	+ ACCURACY | 80 (As Melee)
	+ WEIGHT | 2
	+ CONDITION | 4/4
	+ RANGE | 4
	+ SPECIAL | Until the start of this unit's next turn, all allies within four tiles gain +2 Might +15 AVO, while foes lose -15 AVO
	+ COST | --

* YEEK HIDE

	+ DEFENSE | 1
	+ WEIGHT | 0
	+ SPECIAL | Rubbery and blue.

RED YEEK

| VIT -- 26 BLADES -- E
| MGT -- 6 POLEARMS -- E
| SKI -- 3 AXES/BLUNT -- C
| SPD -- 5 BOWS/RANGED -- E
| SRT -- 0 THEURGY -- N/A
| MND -- 0 MYSTICISM -- N/A
| LUK -- 2

* BRONZE BATTLE AXE

	+ MIGHT | 6
	+ ACCURACY | 70
	+ WEIGHT | 3
	+ RANGE | 1
	+ SPECIAL | N/A
	+ CLASS | AXE

* RED YEEK HIDE

	+ DEFENSE | 2
	+ WEIGHT | 0
	+ SPECIAL | Tough and red.

DAUNT -- -10 Hit/Critical Rates to enemies within 3 tiles.

---

---

BLUE YEEK WARRIOR #1
VIT 0/11
KILLED BY ASHUR

BLUE YEEK WARRIOR #2
VIT 0/11
KILLED BY SIRIS

BLUE YEEK WARRIOR #3
VIT 0/0
KILLED BY MAKEEN

BLUE YEEK WARRIOR #4
VIT 9/11

BLUE YEEK WARRIOR #5
VIT 0/11
KILLED BY GESTIES

BLUE YEEK WARRIOR #6
VIT 0/0
KILLED BY ASHUR

BLUE YEEK WARRIOR #7
VIT 0/0
KILLED BY SIRIS

BLUE YEEK WARRIOR #8
VIT 0/0
KILLED BY LYUN

BLUE YEEK WARRIOR #9
VIT 0/0
KILLED BY LYUN

BLUE YEEK WARRIOR #10
VIT 0/0
KILLED BY ZARIF

BLUE YEEK ENSI #1
VIT 0/0
KILLED BY ZARIF

RED YEEK #1
VIT 0/26
KILLED BY LYUN

---

ALLIES

Gesties

| VIT -- 6/14 BLADES -- D
(-5 Accuracy / -1 Might)

| MGT -- 6 POLEARMS -- E
(-15 Accuracy / -1 Might)

| SKI -- 7 AXES/BLUNT -- E
(-20 Accuracy / -0 Might)

| SPD -- 5 BOWS/RANGED -- C
(+5 Accuracy / 0 Might)

| SRT -- 2 THEURGY -- N/A
(-20 Accuracy / -2 Might)

| MND -- 1 MYSTICISM -- N/A
(-10 Accuracy/ -1 Might)

| LUK -- 6

* BRONZE SICKLE SWORD

	+ MIGHT | 5
	+ ACCURACY | 75
	+ WEIGHT | 4
	+ RANGE | 1
	+ SPECIAL | N/A
	+ CLASS | BLADE

---

HELLIONS PHASE

COMMENCE

---

---

Gesties: "S'pose I owe you times three now. . ." The gruff rival merc muses aloud, nearly knocked on his ass once more beside Makeen, the boy having distracted that nasty little javelineer enough to save Gesties from the next death-knell shot. As Zarif's arrow whizzed overhead, barely having cleared that shiny dome of his, the man manages to pick himself up. "S'pose I could owe you a fourth time, Hellion?" He breathes another ragged breath.

Ashür: "Hmmph. . ." He merely sighs at Siris' response. It wasn't the time that the bandit felt the rash boy-warrior thought he could take on the whole damn world. It was like poison to Ashür's cynicism, bringing to the front of his mind days better left forgotten.

Bright-eyed as ever, Etor makes the point of covering every square inch of the Ziggurot's confines, lest yet more of the filthy blue Yeeks be lurking. . . And perhaps on the off-chance that some ancient treasures still lie here. Captain Doan would surely praise his shrewdness. Whether for better or worse, the chamber is empty, beyond the stink of the creatures' little den, without mentioning the contents of their guts spilling over across the slick sandstone.

Etor's gesture seemingly lost upon the scholar, he makes his way between the vanguard and the heart of the Hellions there, ever moving with a certain unfaltering leisure.
Kastilus: "Yes. . . Yes. . ." He mumbles aloud, his dark eyes moving from one wall to the next, "This would have most definitely been the procession hall. In days-long passed, representatives of each polity would have come before Dumuzid here, a primitive seat of power when put against the silver-plated Uruk perhaps. . . The main chamber should be but ahead." He makes no real attempt to remain hidden, nor for his words to do ought but echo down the tomb of old.

[Assistant]
Etor: "Bah. The money is looking a little to relaxed and nonchalant for my liking"

After looking around and finding nothing of interest or value, besides geek feces, Etor catches up to the group.

Etor: "Nothing in the back room."

He says this to no one in particular as he keeps an eye on kastilus.

Etor moves 4 tiles to 10-26

[User]
Splitting isn't exactly the best plan to move forward. Not that the young Hellions seem to have a plan that isn't simply moving forward. Still, both Yeeks and fellow humans could be just around the corner.

Lyun moves deeper into the branching path, scouting just enough to continue holding the corridor with his frame. Heavy steps on the rough stone below, wordlessly announcing his arrival.

Lyun moves 4 tiles to 5-24, readying his hand axe for battle.

[Assistant]
Slowing his pace to a cautious walk Siris continued forward while brushing his hand on the wall, keeping his sword in his hand while doing so.

He turns his head slightly towards Ashür, making sure to keep most of his concentration in front of him.

Siris: I'll stay near this wall to make sure we don't unknowingly pass any hidden passageways, hopefully avoiding any possible ambushes from behind or to the side.

Although his bleeding was slowing down it had not completely halted, the injuries however were not debilitating and had the side effect of increasing Siris's focus to avoid leading himself to an untimely death.

Siris moves 3 tile to 11-17 and waits


[System]
☾
16 // Feb 29 // Female░░

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂
✰ personal

HOBBIES

Singing, star gazing, reading, fortune telling

HEIGHT / WEIGHT

5'3 (161.5 cm), 102 lbs (46.2 kg)

PERSONALITY

At first glance, Yvaine would seem to many a pillar of elegance. She carries herself with an almost regal manner, not imposing but compelling all the same, and exudes an air of gentleness that can be quite infectious. Children and the elderly in particular seem to take solace in her presence; one of the younger girls in the convent used to say she had the same effect on her as her favorite doll. Genuine to a fault, Yvaine has a tendency to overextend her generosity if someone so much as looks at her with pleading eyes.

Her naturally soft-spoken voice and traditionally feminine sensibilities serve to reinforce the image of her as this graceful person, but in truth, her outward poise belies a clueless, wide-eyed romantic with embarrassingly pure notions about the world at large. All the years she spent behind the walls of the priory has definitely skewed her perception of reality. Most of her worldly knowledge was attained through books and the alternatingly sugar-coated or embellished stories told by the priory's novices. As a result, Yvaine tends to see blue skies and silver linings.

Perennially curious and laughably gullible, Yvaine's desire to learn about the world, supplemented by her wild imagination, will have her believing everything she's told.

HISTORY

Orphaned at an early age, Yvaine was raised by the renowned sisters of the Priory of St. Cecilia alongside other young girls sent there to receive holy orders. For a long time, her whole world consisted only of the convent and its daily goings-on. She had to earn her keep by running errands about the priory: cooking, cleaning, and everything else in between. Despite not being officially enrolled as an apostle, she was exposed to the classes being taught so often that she eventually picked up on the art. She learned the tenets of the faith and the ways of holy magic, and although she only got to practice when the other students lent their scrolls and scriptures, she would prove to have a natural inclination for it.

When the abbess found out, she immediately imposed upon her a series of trials to further assess her abilities. Not a week later, an eccentric nobleman arrived at the convent, seeking Yvaine and claiming guardianship over her. The process was remarkably instantaneous: one moment, she was running errands as usual and the next, she was whisked away by a complete stranger, to the world that lay beyond the convent walls. Even now, Yvaine hasn't found out how her guardian procured the necessary paperwork needed as proof, but she admires him for his beyond generous contribution to the priory.

Yvaine didn't know what to expect when she stepped into the carriage with her mysterious guardian, but going from the priory directly to the famous Academy of Might & Magics was beyond even the scope of her imagination.

▂▂▂▂▂▂
✰ combat

CLASSIFICATION

Magic

MANA COLOR

A bright gold that seems to almost gleam and glow, especially under a night sky.

MANA CHARACTERISTICS

An inviting embrace that makes you feel at peace. Simultaneously like basking in the sun, with a cool breeze lapping at your skin and bathing in the moon's glow, its light warm and soothing.

EQUIPMENT

𝑪𝒂𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒔 𝑺𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 - In place of the standard mage's spellbook, Yvaine uses a hymnal scroll that contains the celestial dieties' sacred texts and its accompanying musical score. There are a wide variety of hymns available at her disposal, but in order to use it to its full potential, Yvaine must not only know the words and the melody, but understand its meaning as well.

MAGIC

Hymn Magic: Astrolatry

SPELLS

Sunrise
『 The Sun ☼ 1st score, 2nd verse 』

As Yvaine sings the hymn, a small glowing glyph appears beneath the intended target's feet. The person will feel a gentle warmth envelop them, soothing any pain they may have as wounds begin to mend and ailments are alleviated. The more severe the injury, the longer the hymn has to be drawn out.

Lunar Eclipse
『 The Moon ☾ 3rd score, 8th verse 』

Yvaine summons a protective barrier around the target that lasts as long as she can properly perform the hymn. Its shape is dependent on the current phase of the moon, which means it is only all-encompassing during a full moon. On a new moon, the spell acts differently: while Yvaine is unable to cast the barrier around others, she can cast it on herself, at which point the barrier not only repels attacks, but redirects it in turn.

Starfall
『 The Star ✫ 5th score, 4th verse 』

Yvaine calls forth stars to rain down from the sky, creating blinding pillars of light that strike within the vicinity. If a star comes into contact with someone, the person is momentarily stunned.

Constellation: Pegasus
『 The Star ✫ 2nd score, 3rd verse 』

Yvaine sings a short hymn that grants her a temporary pair of wings--small and glowy, looking almost like they're made of thousands of tiny stars--and the ability to fly.

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✰ parameters

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MANA

★★★★★ |

CHANNELING

★★★★☆ |
MAGIC

★★★★★ |
TECHNIQUE

★★☆☆☆ |
STRENGTH

★☆☆☆☆ |
SPEED

★★★☆☆ |
BODY

★☆☆☆☆ |
INTELLECT

★★★☆☆ |

[User]
Train - 5th car

Mandi had tilted the head to the left and right as Misaya began to address the mage from out of nowhere, the words spoken were met with a blank facial expression before Mandi's hands began to clap. "Oh! That kind of rhymed, I think. What did you say again?" The hydromancer had tapped it's chin with a single finger, looking Misaya over momentarily as Alberta didn't seem willing to answer the questions posed.

"Oh nevermind~." The hydromancer waved one of it's hands in a dismissive manner before having gotten seated at one of the remaining spots, remaining quiet for the remainder of the train-trip.

Genelogia - Outskirts

Mandi had chosen to remain silent even as the class and the professor got off the train. But the young mage was making good use of it's eyes and ears, making sure to hear out what the professor was saying and secondly the other students. When it came to sights, there were the strange autumn coloured trees, a desolate looking village and lastly a villager which seemed to be afflicted by something. Mandi had some suspiciouns of what it possibly could be, but what use would there be in telling the others about it all? The trip through the forest had been just like any other stroll for Mandi who happened to do plenty of wandering about. Whereof it were indoors, in a forest or a road didn't matter much. There were after all plenty of things to think about while walking, while at the same time looking for things of interest. As it were now however, Mandi's classmates were delving into such matters.

'If they need something they will ask, though the likelihood of that is far lower now...' The mage thought, with a slight exhale, blowing some strands of hair away from it's face.

[Assistant]
Sophiel Sargute

After that little embarrassing train conversation with Ty, she left him once the train arrived at their destinations. Still a little red, she sighed before taking a deep breath. Note to self, practice tolerance. She felt a little inflicting pain onto her classmate just because she was embarrassed, so she needed to work on that later. For now, she would have to stay vigilant as they made their way to a village. Staying close to Yvaine, she remembered the young girl talking to Sekhandur earlier. While she didn't talk to Sekhandur that much, he was a possible bad influence by the way he carried himself. Standing boldly like a king with no land to call a kingdom.

While she couldn't tell the mana any different like her classmates, she did notice their attentiveness towards their surroundings. Looking at it now, she understood why. The leaves were out of the season. Currently, it was spring yet the leafs were colored as if it was fall. "How strange," She muttered to herself as they made their way towards the village. For her first time visiting a village, she doubted that she was going to see a thriving community that Ty would have told her it would be.

When they arrived at the village, her suspicions were confirmed as it looked like the village was quarantining itself. Some houses boarded up, the village itself seemingly thrived on silence, and there was an ill villager on the grounds of the village. His skin was had become bark like and had a vacant expression. Alberta was right, though she could have put it a little more politely, they shouldn't try to talk to the villager. Who knows what might happen. "Yvaine, stay close to one of us." Sophiel said. Knowing Yvaine, she'd probably attempt to heal the villager in order to cure him or relieve him in whatever pain was he in.

She agreed to what Kiara had to say, however she felt a little angry when she did, they should gather as much as intel before taking action. "Agreed, hopefully there are some who are left unaffected by whatever is happening here." There was also one more thing she wanted to know. How long has this affliction been happening? Looking at the man it may have been recent but looking up at the boarded houses, she would have to beg to differ. "What kind of artifact did the thieves steal from the archives?" She muttered to herself. Her classmates were most likely thinking the same. It seemed their professor was just a clueless as they were. Was it truly the artifact, or was it something else entirely?

[User]
Genelogia outskirts → Train

☆═━━━━━━━━━━━
Yvaine was all ears as Sekhandur shared some information about his fascinating heritage, and had even hurriedly rummaged through her pack for her journal. Eagerly, she jotted down notes as thoroughly as though she were listening to one of Professor Nyx's lectures, writing questions in the margins and circling the things she was particularly interested in. Like the Judges of Duat! She practiced the proper pronunciation of Shan'iatu under her breath and spent the next couple of moments imagining an ancient desert ruled over by kings that transcended life and death.

Genelogia outskirts → The Village

☆═━━━━━━━━━━━
As they trekked through outskirts of Genelogia, Yvaine was wide eyed and awestruck at every little thing. The green of the forests seemed richer up close than it had been through the smudged lens of her telescope. The babbling and burbling of the river were like music to her, and she trailed close to the bank to watch the little frogs and fish go about their day. She took joy in Sophiel's company, pointing out dozens and dozens of curiosities that caught her attention as they passed by. Eventually, her eagerness took its toll. Despite having built stamina from years of grueling chores, Yvaine had yet to be accustomed to long stretches of walk, and soon after their hallway point, she had started lagging behind along with Alberta.

To remedy this, she manifested her wings and flitted by Caelum, who had been acting as rearguard. The rest of the trip became easier now that she was off her feet, and twice she soared up high to better appreciate the landscape. She didn't think she would ever tire of such a view, especially an outlandish one like this, where autumnal trees grew happily beside springtime ones. From what she read in books, such a thing could have only happened inside magical greenhouses, yet here it was.

Yvaine thought nothing of it until Professor Nyx pointed it out. How curious! She was normally sensitive to mana, but this had completely escaped her notice. It must have been very unusual magic indeed.

It wasn't until they arrived at the village that Yvaine understood the levity of the situation. Her smile faltered at the solemn sight as an unsettling chill ran down her spine. It was obvious something was amiss; but beyond strong sentiments that the village was sick, Yvaine couldn't tell what was causing it. Ankaa was first to spring into action, and Yvaine heeded her call immediately, unceremoniously dropping her baggage to rush in and help. Her hands had already unfurled her scroll instinctively, needing no guidance to find the exact verse she wanted, and the melody half out of her lips when Sophiel's warning reached her.

Yvaine stopped in her track, hesitantly halting the magic. The others were correct. They didn't know what ailed this man—what if her magic only made his condition worse? She studied the growths on the man's skin with uncertainty, her brows furrowing in apprehension as she failed to come up with a diagnosis. When she helped out at the priory's sanatorium, Yvaine became exposed to a number of ailments she hadn't known existed, both of the magical and non-magical variety. Even with that knowledge, she drew a blank now.

"Professor," Yvaine turned to him helplessly. It didn't sit well with her to ignore someone in need of aid. She was relieved when Kiara at least acknowledged tending to him, even if the others seemed hesitant. "Please, there must be something we can do for him!"


[System]
Age: 23 (Physically) 62 (In reality)
Gender: Female
Breed/Species/Type/Lineage: Half-Demon

Physical Description:

Talents:
 -Using Firearms
 -Hand to hand combat
 -Stalking/Sneaking
 -Controlling fire
 -Parkour
 -Faster Healing

History:
 Claudia was born in 1953, into a prominent family of demons due to an affair between a demon woman and a human. Her family had wealth, power, and most important of all, reputation. Her birth was not wanted by the elders, seeing as her parents were both young, and the fact that Claudia was a half-demon, which were considered disgraces and looked down upon. Claudia's grandfather, Harriet Laurel, decided that Claudia and her father were to be executed. Claudia's mother didn't want this, and helped her daughter disappear, along with Claudia's father. They began a new life (on earth) in America as James Williams and his young daughter, Claudia Williams.

 Two years later, Her father was drafted into the Vietnam war at the age of twenty. Claudia was sent to live with her aunt in Virginia, and spent the next twenty years staying there, waiting for her father to return. He never did. Her family was informed of his death, and Claudia received his possessions. In a trunk was a stack of letters, mostly love letters between her mother and father. After digging through the trunk and reading the old letters, she came upon addressed to her, from her parents. The letter told her all about her heritage and why she didn't have a mother with her.Claudia had hoped to get in touch with them, but was not able to enter their world and when summoned, they rejected her because she was a 'Halfling'.

 Left with no where to go, she wandered until one she walked in on two people fighting. One pulled out a gun to shoot the other, and Claudia threw the nearest thing she could find at the man, which happened to her shoe. The man ran off not wanting to be seen, and the other, Tom, introduced himself. The two became quick friends, both having no where to go. They lived off the streets, and eventually joined a gang. The two became tangled in a web of crimes and violence, and Tom decide that they needed to learn to defend themselves. They became more active in the gang learning from the other members how to fight, and later how to kill. Claudia and Tom advanced from just people taken under their wing to some of the most able members.

 Eventually the gang was busted, and Claudia escaped with Tom. They moved to New Camden, and decided to try to lay low. It didn't work out, as they were in desperate need of money, and Claudia ended up taking jobs which weren't quite legal. She eventually got arrested for vehicular manslaughter, of all things. She was sentenced to five years in prison. When she was let out on probation, she discovered that Tom had passed away. With nothing left, Claudia became a servant for a supernatural household in the court. When Nemsemet took over, her master was killed, along with his family. Claudia was given two choices. Join his side or die. She did what she thought every sane person would have done, and chose not to die. She needed the money anyway. She now works as a servant/hitman for Nemsemet, and though she may not like it, money always comes first. And her dog.

Psychological Profile:
 Due to her history, Claudia is very pessimistic. She doesn't believe in the whole 'heart of gold' thing, and distrusts everyone around her. She doesn't like to show emotion, believing they are weaknesses. She believes that the court and the wealthy families in New Camden are all corrupt, but also thinks that Nemsemet is the same.
Claudia has two 'modes', in place of emotions. There's stoic and uncaring, and then theres angry. When taking out targets, she remains cold and collected, but her anger can be triggered easily; she is sensitive about her family, and will physically harm anyone who insults her parents. She is also angered by the social hierarchy of fullbloods and halfbloods. Although she is willing to kill in cold blood, she is not merciless. She prefers to take people out quickly and painlessly, and if you give her good reason not to do something, she'll listen to you. Although it's hard to get her to trust you, if she believes in your cause then she will remain loyal.

Possessions:
 A silver ring, which hides her identity as a supernatural creature, given to her by her mother. Two handguns, Several knives, and a sniper rifle. Has extras at her 'home', which is actually an abandoned building. A large husky she adopted off the streets. The closest thing she's ever had to a familiar.

Yes, and:
 Claudia met Karram when she was sent to court for vehicular manslaughter. He was one of the people who helped get her a shortened sentence. She has mixed feelings about him. On one hand, he shortened her punishment, on the other hand, he still sent her to prison.

Now though, they're going to meet under much different circumstances. Karram is one of the people she has been requested to kill, so thats awkward.

(I didn't really know what to do here ^, so it can be changed.)

[User]
"... And anyway Karram, so Augusts said to me, 'Think of the children Parry! Think of all the poor little supernatural children you see every day, and how they'll be left to the whims of an Egyptian High Priest who fancies himself a god just because he could walk in and kill my uncle.' So hearing that, I couldn't help but say 'You know what Augustus? I have just the thing for you.' So I went upstairs and brought down this old thing I picked up in Alexandria a while back. Not much, but it was a legit Egyptian Charm to the goddess Isis, and I handed it over and said 'This should keep you safe against old Egyptian magic.' And Augustus said 'Thank you Parry! Thank you! You're so generous and so much better dressed than I am. Why, I look like I just came out of a frat party compared to you. And you've got a baby on your hip.' So I said-"

Which was the precise time Flint slammed on the other pedal, putting the car in a rapid stop, while Parry's face landed right into the driver's seat with a quiet and not very good sounding CRUNCH. Parry had to reach into his pocket for an old hankie to press against his nose with one hand while the other took a swipe at the back of Flint's head. "DON'T BRAKE SO FAST," he yelled, his voice distorted as he tried to stop the bleeding from his broken nose.

He was vaguely aware of getting out of the back seat of the car and walking behind Flint and Beth, but too absorbed in his own thoughts to really care what was going on or where they were going.

Without skipping a beat, he turned back to Karram the Fae. "So anyway, I said to Augustus 'Just be a doll and don't tell anyone you were here. Tony would kill me if he found out you knew we were all put up in my place. And Augustus said 'Cross my heart Parry you stud muffin.' So- oh. Oh, we're here!"

'Here' turned out to be yet another relic from a bygone era. A nuclear fallout bunker at the end of a tunnel beneath a parking garage? Parry didn't really know why all his friends were stuck in the past like they seemed to be. Rikive in the Middle Ages, Tony was perpetually reliving 'Nam, and Flint just couldn't get out of the '30s. The present was so much more fun. Couldn't Tony have set up in a Penthouse Suite instead?

Parry hissed as he felt his long hair brush against a spiderweb, sending him running through the bunker's front door whimpering like a child stung by a bee.

"You get this place fumigated regularly, right Tony?" He asked, pulling the bloody cloth from his face. "I mean, no bugs or anything? I had the center cleaned out once a month as a rule. If it has more than six legs it isn't fit to walk this plane." Parry stumbled into the bathroom, still chattering away as he tried to find a light switch to check his face. "I'm covered on clothes for the next day. Just point me to the nearest dry-cleaner if you can. We need to figure out a plan to go on the offensive, find some information about what Nemsemet wants with-"

The sight of his nose, crooked and weeping blood, brought the shrillest, blood-curdling scream from the bathroom Parry had ever heard himself make. The mirror was broken in a spiderweb pattern, the medical supplies in the cabinet behind it spilled out onto the floor, and the Celestial threw himself out into the kitchen and grabbed Tony by the shoulders shaking him furiously.

"FUCK IT! I need a plastic surgeon to fix my nose. NOW!"

[Assistant]
Rikive walked around the bunker to study it and burn off the energy humming in her veins. Driving the old car had been fun and exhilerating; even with Tony in the passenger seat and shouting at her. She thought she had done well, they arrived to the location in one piece didn't they? It was a mission success in her mind.

She turned her attention back to the group at the mention of clothes and looked down at her leather jacket. There was a small hole in the front where she'd been hit by that bullet and an even bigger one on the back. The dark brown leather was now stained with blood and she didn't know if it could be repaired. Too bad, she really liked the jacket.

Dismissing the thought she leaned back against a wall, frowning as she began to go over the events of the attack. When she had been informed the enemy was from ancient times, some part of her had assumed he wouldn't use modern weapons. Especially since they caused such a scene to develop; either the ancient mummy hadn't known or far more likely didn't care. With that damned curse on the city preventing people that were informed from leaving or communicating with the outside world; Nemsemet could do whatever he pleased. So it stood to reason, he didn't give a rats ass about subtlety.

Rikive shut her eyes and thumped her head against the wall. She was thrilled to discover her swords ability to form a shield, it had even proved effective against bullets. Clearly though, the way she had been taught to fight would not be enough if they were to go up against those weapons again. Maybe her sword could prove useful, but the old weapon wasn't giving up its secrets easily. Perhaps it was punishment for it being taken from Jötunheimr all those centuries ago.

She remained quiet for a few moments, lost in thought and listening to the other's converse. So distracted by her thoughts she nearly jumped out of her skin when Parael started screaming. Fear another attack she pulled her sword from it's sheath as the scabbard transformed into a shield on her arm. It took her a moment to realize they were not under attack and huffed, willing her sheath to return to normal and sliding her sword back into it's home.

She walked over to the counter and tried to dislodge Parael's hands from Tony's shoulders. "Parael I can fix your nose!" She shouted over his yelling and crying. "Calm down, I can heal it if you will release Tony." Speaking of she turned to Tony and asked, "Does this place have guns? I wish to learn to use one."

[User]
"AK's are right here," he gestured to the bag he'd stashed them in when they were coming down -- because he didn't need Bobby to see that shit and freak out, "But we'll handle that after..." he shrugged as if to point out that Parael's nose was probably a bigger concern than explaining firearms, particularly safe handling, to Sturm Und Drang.

Well, the Kalashnikov was ideal in one sense. It was designed to be taught quickly to Siberian peasants. He tried to disengage Parael's hands off him so he could go over to one of the footlockers in the place -- he seemed to have more storage here than things stored, and grabbed an outfit that was essentially a copy of the first. Tony knew how to wear a suit and tie and look stylish when he was doing it, but this place wasn't set up to support his not for profit operations, it was set up with the idea of survival in mind. So he had a lot of the sort of gym clothes that lycans wore when expecting trouble, including shoes, because changing would fuck up a pair of nice dress shoes in a heartbeat.

In any case, he pulled on the clothing and laid the AK's and the ammo on the table -- not much, but hey, it was there if they needed it. He waited for the healing of Parael's nose to commence before he put in his two cents.

"Taking the offensive? Shit, man, I don't know. Those goons we encountered were thralls, I could smell the v-blood on them. Nemsemet might be old fashioned, but he's got at least one of the vampire elders on his side, which maybe explains why he wiped out Caradoc's court left and right -- promotion opportunities. That's the only way I can figure on so many thralls showing up well armed and with a plan like that." He drummed his fingers on the table as he took a chair, once the AK's were laid out -- they weren't exactly dirty enough to bother cleaning, yet.

"Guess it depends on what you want to hit. Until we know how to kill Nemsemet, we're as bad off on odds as Augustus was. Of course, that boy was kinda dumb and entitled, but you know what I mean."

[Assistant]
Claudia turned to Tony, raising an eyebrow at the nickname. She turned her attention back to the room ahead, gun raised and ready to shoot. No more goons came, which either meant that they were all dead, or they were closing in and waiting for an opportunity to attack. Most likely the latter. After a few minutes there was a string of unintelligible words from the Blonde, Parry. After that Tony left the building, and she followed, still facing the building with her gun at the ready. She listened as he gave someone directions, before turning on her heel and following him to an old-fashioned car. She guessed it was stolen by the state of its window, and the fact that the barbaric woman was at the wheel. Claudia slipped into the backseat and kept an eye outside as the man took them through the route to wherever they were going.

---

They arrived not long after, heading to a garage of sorts. Tony spoke with a security guard before ordering the group to follow him. They progressed through a series of tunnels, in the dark. Not that she minded, she had frequented a few sewers as way of safe passage back in the day. She just hoped that others wouldn't do something such as scream about the filth and insects, especially that odd Parry person. They finally made it to the entrance to the bunker, and Claudia listened half-heartedly as Simba the were-lion briefed them on the state of supplies.

The bunker was fine, at least in better condition than her home. Home, she had left most of her weapons as well as her dog there. She would have to go back eventually, before her place got torched like Parry's. She was brought back from her thoughts once again as the aforementioned man came running back into the living space and practically tackled Tony. Claudia slowly walked over to join the group as Rikive and Tony pried the bawling mans hands off of the lycanthropes shoulders. Eventually they succeeded and weapons were layer on the table. The conversation turned to Nemsemet, and Claudia crossed her arms over her chest as a thought occurred to her. Should she tell these people who she was and who she worked for, or used to work for, or keep it to herself. The former option lead to more danger, but maybe if she contributed it would further their efforts to get rid of Nemsemet.


[System]
Appearance
s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/f1/f..
Gender: Male
Age: 18
Primary Power: Telekinesis
Personality: Bit of a weird guy, but funny. The smile rarely leaves his face and he is always cracking jokes. Fiercely protective of friends and family.
Skills: Strong guy, but empathetic and charismatic
Bio: He grew up in a small town in Michigan and was rather uninteresting. He did theater and music but was unremarkable otherwise. Until of course he got in a fight and broke the kid's arm without touching him. He skipped town after that and hasn't stayed in the same place for long.

EXTRA INFO:

Relationship Status*: Single
Relationship Preferences*: Bisexual
Likes: Music, laughter, and happy people
Dislikes: Close spaces, black licorice, and cruelty
Health (allergies, addictions, ailments):
Other Important Information**:

[User]
Bunny was at the base of the stairs when she caught the thoughts of those around echoing with fear, revulsion anger at the death of a girl she'd never met. She might have dwelt on the information a bit longer if she hadn't been so worried about the two younger girls she'd taken charge of and now felt responsible for their safety an survival.

Still needing to recharge her teleportation ability she grabbed her two wards hands to pull them up the stairs an was surprised by the surge of energy she felt flow from them and into her.

"That explains why they kept us separated because we can combine our energy reserves" thought Bunny as she pulled the girls higher up the stairs
And as the trio ascended towards the light Marjorie began to know things about both girls that would have taken days to learn verbally

Their names were Tina an Brittany and were three months apart in age. Neither was skilled in the use of the powers they possessed or even aware that they had any until a few weeks before they were snatched. Both girls were only children raised in loving families like her own; and both were terrified and now leaning one her will for support. This only reinforced a maternal older sister feeling in Bunny making her stronger than she normally could be.

They broke out into the open and Marjorie paused to get her bearings. She saw the falling water which explained the sensation she'd been receiving for a long time now, it was water an lots of it.
 Toketee Falls; now it all makes sense" she thought

Run" Was what she understood when Daz sent his warning

Bunny didn't hesitate and began running for the tree line hoping that distance from the facility would remove the restraint she felt on her power. If that did happen she could teleport herself and her two companions to the mountains on the horizon.

[Assistant]
Lucas flung himself back down the hallway as a hail of bullets crashed into the wall next to him. It was time to get out, they were sufficiently distracted. That was when he started listening to the telepathic shouts. Yup, it's time to get the hell out of here he thought. Hurtling at top speed down the corridors, he picked the minds of the people around him until he found which way was out. He rounded a corner and crashed into a tall woman and a child.
 "Watch where you're going," shouted the lady
 "Really? That's what you're worried about?" Lucas retorted. He dashed up the stair and burst out into the light. Blinded momentarily, he stumbled and crashed into the ground. A running boy grabbed his arm and pulled him up. "Name's ja..." the bullet found his throat and he went down in a spurt of blood. Lucas took that as his que and started sprinting into the woods.

[User]
Running for the tree line was easy enough, dodging the bullets that followed her not so much. Alisha was an adequate runner, and adept at parkor, but this situation with the wet grass, death and gore was making it hard to concentrate on not tripping, falling over, or getting shot. The adrenaline rush was helping, and it gave her the boost of energy needed to telekineticly toss a big log at the group of shooters behind them all. Effectively smashing two of them under the log and distracting the five others for a very short moment. Running she jumped down the incline into the woods. The jump down resulted in a sprained ankle but she ignored the stabbing pain, and kept going, where to she had no idea.

The only information about their whereabouts was that they were in Toketee Oregon. Getting away from the waterfall and bad guys was the number one priority at the moment. She wanted to teleport as far as she could. The fact that she only had those grippy hospital socks on was not helping, as they were soaked through and flopping as she ran. Darting behind the thickest tree she saw, Alisha quickly tugged the socks off and left them. Sure running through a forest barefoot was going to suck, she would probably end up with cuts, but she would be just a tad faster.

Alisha had been to Oregon one time with Mandy over three years ago. It was where they met up in Portland with a man named Dexter who had been a friend of Mandy's and was also a deviant. Hopefully if she could get away from the rushing water, and have a safe hour or two to sore up some energy she could just teleport to Portland for help... Some food and water wouldn't be to bad ether. She tried to teleport but only managed to go about half a yard deeper into the forest. She was low on energy and could still hear the waterfall behind her. She also noticed a rushing creek to the left, which didn't help anything.

She needed to catch her breath so she looked behind her for the pursuers. They weren't visible from where she was running and though she could hear the gunshots off in the distant, there seemed to be less of them shooting off. Alisha leaned against a tree and breathed heavily, sweat dripping down her face, and her feet and legs were covered in mud and pine needles. Her throat was bone dry, and her heart was beating mile a minute. Pushing off from the tree she ran.

[Assistant]
Daz stumbled, his foot catching a loose stone, and toppled to the ground. His teeth clapped together painfully and a large stone bruised his shoulder. He scrambled to his feet, not even waiting to catch his breath, and spun back to face his pursuers. Running would be foolish now that he had lagged behind, best to use this chance while he had it. His mind tore into one of the snatcher's, the attack noticeable even to the man's mundane brain. He pulled information like a vampire pulled blood, delving deep and taking lots.

The reason their powers were dampened were due to interference by running water, a weakness Daz hadn't even known he had. This building was owned by The Geonova Corp, a name that meant nothing to him, and the leader of the corporation was a man surnamed Whittemore who was very much aware of the Deviants. The Deves' chasers were on the verge of giving up because the escapees were almost far enough away to teleport unhindered. Accompanying that last tidbit of information was a memory of a map of Toketee Falls, a red line of sharpie marking the range of the dampening effect, the fastest of Daz's comrades were almost past that line. He also became aware of where their possessions were being kept, or rather, not kept as the case was; they were piled into a van in transit to be disposed of discretely. Wallets, odd trinkets, clothes, everything.

But for now he just needed was a place to go, these people knew his name after all, he was most certainly not going home and leading them to his friends and family. Daz dived back into the man's mind, locating a place even the weakest, most exhausted of them could reach. A city large enough to hide in and preferably hard to reach, but as it turns out Toketee Falls was quite remote, in the middle of a National Forest in fact. Their best hope was the city of Roseburg to the west, but there was a road nearby that led straight there, the city of Eugene to the north west would have been better, but it was far enough away that Daz doubted the most worn of them would reach it. Roseburg it was then. He ripped an image of an alley behind a hotel from the man's mind, along with images of nearby locations in all directions just in case. He then projected the image to the other Deves in the area and took of at a sprint, mustering enough energy for a small port closer to the edge of the Falls' effect zone.

Daz had only stood still for a few seconds, but that was enough for the chasers to have noticed and then shot him. That hadn't happened though, his mental attack had distracted them, and then another had intervened as well, a log had bowled over a few of them, giving Daz just enough time to raid a mind and run for it.

Unfortunately his small port was blind and he reappeared over a creek, landing in it with a splash. The chilly water was like daggers in his skin. He climbed from the creak soaking wet, breathing hard, and bleeding slightly from a scrape on his knees. Daz's back had been splattered with blood earlier, during those first rounds of gunfire, but by now his front was splattered as well, and the stiff white pants they'd given him did nothing to hide the stain leaking from his leg now. Huffing and puffing, Daz at last scrambled over the invisible line and disappeared with an odd rumbling sound not unlike thunder. He landed on his back in the alley, taking a moment just to lay there and catch his breath.

Daz's steady influx of information would reach Bunny and her two charges easily, he was not so far away from them that his telepathic ability was becoming at all distorted. Occasionally emotions would slip through the connection as well; fear, anger, frustration, and brief bouts of triumph followed promptly by a new piece of intel. Normally emotions didn't transfer along with thoughts, but Daz was a better telepath than most and his range extended to emotions as well.

Lucas was a bit further from Daz, a bit behind him, so the telepath's words were a bit muffled and faint due to the nearby Falls. The image of a dark alley in a place called Roseburg, as well as a map of the Falls' dampening range, were readily available though.

Alisha was a bit further from Daz, ahead instead of behind him, she would experience similar telepathic communication problems as Lucas, but again the two most important parts of information made it through. She might even already be safely across the line and able to teleport by then.

[User]
Lucas hurtled headlong through the woods, leaves slapping at his face and neck as he sprinted. His breath came ragged and his footsteps began to slow ever so slightly. Come on, come on, come on. The bullets whizzing by were less often now and the shouting behind him was fainter now and steadily getting quieter. He had lost them. Slowing to a fast jog, Lucas looked around for a place to hide but trees were the only thing in sight. Just at that moment he "heard" a voice telling him why his powers were diminished and a safe place to go. Relief flooded over him. Others had made it out! However this distraction was enough for him to not notice the rabbit hole infront of him. The ground rushed up to meet him. He was probably only unconsious for several seconds, but it was enough. Lucas rolled over and a man in a suit was standing over him.
 "Hello there little guy," said a deep voice, scratchy from smoking "You've made a pretty bad mistake."
 "Oh? And why is that?" Responded Lucas, trying to buy time for him to focus.
 "Well first of, you broke my friends and one of them even got shot in the process. Secondly, you ran. Thirdly, you fell about ten feet from safety. Does that sum it up?" He raised his handgun and pointed it at Lucas's head.
 "Well... that is a problem." Retorted Lucas and flung the gun to the ground with his mind before scrambling to his feet
 "So this is how you want to do it"
 "Yeah, it...." the punch interrupted what Lucas was about to say, something witty no doubt. It crashed into his face and the world spun for a moment before the second turned him back around. He tottered for a moment, trying to take a few steps to keep his balance, but ultimately it was no use. His ass hit the ground hard enough for him to bounce. Rolling to get up, Lucas felt his face begin to swell and looked around to find the man. He was standing over to his left holding the pistol again.
 "Bye bye" and the gun went off. At the same moment Lucas turned and felt the familiar tug in his stomach. A familiar ruse used to get away from fights, make your opponent think that he has the upper hand while you're simply stalling, and trying to make an opening to escape. The world tumbled around him and changed into a dusty city alleyway. Lucas opened his eyes and felt a numbness in his shoulder. He looked and saw the crimson spread across his chest and arm. He looked around but saw nothing as his eyes closed and he collapsed on the ground


[System]
Age: 21
Gender: female
Species: Forest Nymph
Powers/Abilities: Can speak to plants and birds, cajoling them to help her
Fairytale: Cinderella

Part in Story: Cinderella
History: In her tale of Cinderella, the prince was in love with another man who had perfect feet. When his lover was executed and he was made to look for a wife, and Ella happened to be wearing glass slippers. Her saw her pretty pale feet and tried to force her to marry him then and there, but instead she fled. She had no wish to be locked up in a tower like other princesses. She liked her calm quiet life of flowers and sewing and cooking. It was peaceful. So her younger stepsister took her place as Cinderella. And Ella was left to live in her father's cottage, deep in the woods, surrounded by flowers, trees and music.

Personality: She is not as passive and obedient as everyone thinks. In fact the first prince that tried to married had a foot fetish and wanted to lock her up in his kingdom. Instead she fled and let her younger stepsister take her place, since she was more willing. Of course she is very sweet and kind, enjoying small tasks like sewing and cleaning, but that is only because people won't ask her to do things for them. Independent, she takes pride on being able to defend and take care of herself. She enjoys singing, as most do, but her singing is always in her native tongue of Russian when she wishes for the plants or birds to help her in someway.

Family: Father (deceased) Mother (deceased) Step Mother (living) Stepsisters (living) Prince Mischov (brother-in-law; ex-fiancee)

Other: She is not the clean freak everyone thinks her to be. Why else was she nicknamed 'Cinder' Ella?

[User] Summer and Fall are gone, with old man Winter taking their place. Frost and cold had spread their tendril fingers over the land, leaving the Enchanted Forest covered in a veil of soft snow. The vast forest is deep and dark, even without its usual canopy of thick lush leaves, though evergreens and the like are plenty and flourishing. And in the heart of this tangled winter land is a small cottage, once covered with flowers and plants, now snuggled in snow. Its eyes warm and glowing, smoking a thin cloud of aromatic cedar, cradling an almost-princess in the heart of its warmth. She sits near the hearth and rocks slowly, a wild cat curled near her feet, a mere companion in the frozen storm that slowly sneaks through the darkening evening. A blizzard is soon to set in and the woman is hardly expecting company, which slowly trudges its way to her door.

[Assistant]
The blizzard seemed to come from nowhere. The young man had seen snowstorms leap into existence before, but this was by far the worst one he had dealt with. Looking back, it was no wonder his dog Riley had went back home. He'd always been a smart dog. He trudged on as the snow and wind battered his body. It was cold, even through his fur coat and long johns.

Drake thought he was heading to his snug little cabin, but after an hour, he knew that he was lost. The freezing air and howling wind seemed to suck the heat from his body. By the second hour it felt like his bone marrow had been replaced with ice.

By the third he thought he heard his mother's voice on the wind. Just rest a bit, my little dragon, it seemed to say, using the pet name she had called him when she was alive. But Drake knew that if he were to curl up now and sleep, he would wake up in the afterlife.

By the fourth hour he was about to give in. However he saw something that snapped him awake. Lights! he thought. A cottage!

[User]
Ella rocked back and forth steadily as she read by the warm fire in the hearth. A year. A since she had run from that awful excuse of a prince and hidden herself in the forest. Her father's cabin was small but held everything she had needed to learn about how to live alone in the woods. The basement below was stocked well, something throughout the summer and fall Ella had continued to stock, and there was more than enough firewood to keep the small house warm. Her delicate hands had bled but were now calloused enough to keep up with her work. And a the scruffy practically wild cat that had lived in the woods, was now her constant companion in the lonely winter nights.

Looking up from her book, the small clock on her mantel chimed six. Six and it was already so dark out? A blizzard really much of set in over the course of the short day. Getting to her feet, the wild cat looked up, but quickly settled himself when he realized there was nothing to be alarmed about. Giving a small laugh, Ella went to the kitchen area and started to prepare the vegetables and meat for her dinner. A nice stew sounded good. The bones she had kept boil all day had surely made a nice broth by now. Humming to down out the moaning wind, the young woman continued her work without any notice of the dark nearly frozen figure trudging his way towards her cottage.

[Assistant] Drake didn't even knock on the front door of the cottage. His mind was confused and muddled, but one thing was clear: he needed warmth. The young man shut the door behind him, and although he didn't realize it, with the snow clinging to his clothes, and fur exposed on his hood, he looked like some kind of yeti. "S-S-So s-s-sorr-rr-rry ab-b-b-bout barging in," he managed to get out. "F-F-Freez-z-zing outside!" Without another word he moved in front of the fireplace to warm up.

[User] Ella jumped and dropped her knife and the sudden thump of an opening and closing door. The frozen air blocked out a good portion of whatever the snow-covered beast in her house had hissed and she immediately reached for the closest thing to her. Hand grasping a thick iron-cast pan, she didn't even stop to think. She just moved. And smacked the wild beast thing right over the head. The wild cat hissed at their falling near-frozen intruder and Ella panted in sheer surprise at what had occurred in just the matter of minutes. One minute she had been making dinner, the next their was an unconscious snowy... thing laying before her hearth. What... Just what the heck was going on?!


[System]
* Age: 17 years old
* Gender: Male
* Race: Human
* Appearance: Standing 5' 11" and a sleek 155 lbs, Lucas carries himself with the graceful posture of both an athlete and an artist. His smile is polite and unassuming, his eyes are bright and steel-coloured, and his hair is as white as snow.
* Personality: Although a little withdrawn in light of the relatively recent death of his parents, Lucas is slowly but surely returning to his old self: A warm and friendly young man who will always seek to raise his friends spirits, whether it's with an unfunny joke or an arm around the shoulder and an open ear. He also has an odd quirk of being fearless. Not courageous, no - courage requires the presence of fear - but complete fearlessness. Danger simply does not move him. He has somewhat of a darker side that went undiscovered until he started weapons training... he does like to 'talk a little trash,' seeking to press the emotional buttons of his opponent and get them off their game. It is a little jarring to witness, for anyone that knows him, to see him in this arrogant and malicious state. Aside from that, he likes card games, climbing trees and reading books about heroic deeds, adventure and rescuing princesses.
* Brief Backstory: Lucas Storm was born to Penny and Harold aka 'The Storms' - a double act in a travelling circus troupe that lived on the roads of Thain. They were not quite the main event, but between Penny's acrobatics and Harold's knife-throwing expertise, the two had their act down to a tee and made a good living at the top of the card. Lucas however, had shot into stardom as a gifted trapeze artist and worked with his parents friends often as the main event. Every night he risked his life to entertain the audience, and strangely the dizzying heights or the danger had never even slightly bothered the boy, not even the first time.

Life was good. Simple, yes, but contented and full of love. Living on the road meant one was always an outsider and so the troupe had a trust and loyalty between them that went beyond community. More like family. They looked out for each other, lied for each other (certainly when thieves and pickpockets in the troupe began to make their extra money off the current town,) and they would no-doubt die for each other... something many of them eventually did. This circus life would indeed come to an end when they were assaulted in Velt by slaver unit. The troupe resisted as best they could, but were no match for amply-armed slavers. Many of them died, including Lucas' parents, Penny and Harold. Lucas was taken prisoner and caged, ready for sale.

No more than three days after Lucas was thrown into a cage, the slaver encampment was set upon by a mercenary band who captured the place after a bloody battle. Lucas was awestruck as a hero straight out of one of his books, fought evil men valiantly and freed him from the cage. That man, he would find out, was Gerard Segremors. From that day forward, Lucas Storm wanted to be a hero, like in his books. A hero like Gerard Segremors. His first act a free person again, was to go to the quartermaster of the mercenary band and request to be recruited. Perhaps the quartermaster took note of the young lad's strong body and graceful gait. Perhaps it was the look of determination and fearlessness in his eyes. For whatever reason, Lucas' request was accepted and he began training under the quartermaster.

This life as a mercenary did not last long however, as no more than some weeks - maybe months - later, the mercenary band was dissolved and folded into the military arm of the Church. Lucas didn't care, he simply waited to see what Gerard would do, and when his idol joined the Blades of Iron Roses, Lucas followed him into the order.

Now, Lucas finds himself training under a real regiment, in an order of knights where he might truly become a hero from his books - a hero like Gerard Segremors. And he works hard to make it happen.
* Equipment: A set of battered plate mail. A longsword. All standard basic Order issue. He likes to carry several daggers on his person, preferably balanced for throwing or using in a tight situation.
* Skills: Free-climbing. Juggling. Dizzying acrobatics. Knife throwing. Hold Em Poker. Pickpocketing. Cheering friends up. Sneaking.

[User]
Fleuri Jodeau
"I'm not sure," Fleuri answered, trying his best to recall the fight "It was all so chaotic that I didn't get a good chance to see who had what effect on it, aside from the fatal blow that Serenity inflicted upon it." It was only fitting that the person who handled the fight in the most sane and level-headed manner had the honor of the fatal blow.

"Truth be told I'd rather she had let it live- it was already subdued and injured," he lamented. "Griffins are majestic, noble creatures once you get past the whole horse-eating thing. There'd have been no point in trying to capture it, though- they're also immensely proud creatures that as we saw already, don't take well to being caged."

Fleuri would not have shared this sentiment with the other knights- after that foolhardy stunt he pulled, they'd probably dismiss him as being mad and his actions counterproductive to the fight. But Lucas had been gripped by the same madness, and it was for that reason he was comfortable talking openly about it.

"Looking back, I don't know what I was thinking, jumping on its back like that," he said, taking a bite from, fittingly, a cooked bird's wing. "I was nearly crushed, burned, and could very well have simply missed and hit the ground hard enough to break my bones. It's a miracle I got out of it unharmed." He would not disparage Lucas, but he wanted to convey his concerns with his own actions.

[Assistant]
Renar Hagen

And now he was being scolded. Renar bit back a sigh, simply staring at Fionn impassively until he finished. Frankly, Fionn was one of very few people he would tolerate this sort of lecture from. And only because he knew that his friend was a genuine believer in church and chivalry. If Fionn didn't want to hear this from him, fine. Fionn wouldn't hear this from his mouth again. In earshot, at least. But his own injured pride wasn't quite worth continuing this argument with one of his only friends in the order.

"Fine, friend. I hear you." Renar looked to Fionn, his expression resigned. "Consider the matter dropped on my end. I'd prefer not to argue with you over it. And Gerard would likely take your side on this." But he couldn't resist getting one last jab in. "Though I still reserve the right to complain about the little shit's antics."

"As for the Captain, that's good. Seems we're in no immediate danger of disgrace or disaster, then. Unless you'd object to that, Dame Serenity?" Renar looked over to her, a half-smirk rising to his lips in challenge. He had a suspicion that she felt more strong about this subject than she'd let on. It was just a matter of seeing if she'd take the bait or not.

[User]
Landshark@The Otter

"As an Order," Serenity spoke up, "the Iron Rose Knights have little in the way of a hierarchy. As such, in the absence of a Knight-Captain, the one responsible for accepting others into the Order is likely to be Paladin Tyaethe. If you'd like to learn her reasoning, Sir Renar, I'm sure she'll be obliged to it."

Though the fact of the matter was that in the eyes of a centuries-old relic of war and blood, shadow and magic, there was likely no discernible difference between Renar and Lucas. All that mattered, after all, was the Knight-Captain, if one took the stories told of the First and Youngest to heart. The Immortal Dragon Slayer, so inundated by the boons of circumstance that she's unmatched in Thaln despite having yet to even leverage the full weight of her talents.

"I find no reason to leave their learning to luck though. What's the point in discussing Lucas's education, if we're not to point out his faults?"

Still, the matter was dropped, forcibly, and as if aiming to stoke her own ire, Renar brought up the topic of Fanilly Danbalion instead, his second remark a naked attempt to toss fuel to the flame. If he was to be so obvious with it though? "If she fancies herself a knight, she ought to redouble her efforts as a swordswoman." Which Serenity would gladly join her in. "And if she fancies herself a Captain, she ought to better her ability to command under duress. Though I reckon that would be hard, if Captain Fanilly continues to be ambushed."

The flaxen-haired knight paused briefly as she leveled her hammer to drive a nail through the socket of her spear and into the wood beneath, then continued.

"But perhaps the Iron Rose Knights are such that all we need to be is individually competent? Certainly, the legends of our predecessors leave behind only anecdotes of singular glory, rather than united efforts." She hefted the spear up once more, though there wasn't room enough to swing it as she wished. "Thoughts, good sirs? Sir Villis, certainly, was just running ahead of the rest, but how did the Paladin and the Knight-Captain function as leaders?"

[Assistant]
Not sure? Well, that answer did fall into the disappointment category, but at least there was a chance that his idea had limited the griffin's mobility enough that such a killing blow could be landed. A man can dream, eh.

Serenity. One of Gerard's sparring buddies. She was a ferocious fighter. Even after a bunch of bandits had been blown off their feet from a mere flap of the griffin's wings (one even high-tailing it out of there, Lucas saw,) Serenity had gotten right in the beast's face and stayed there. The mental fortitude, the physical skills... the girl was a phenom. It was hard to believe she was the same age. She carried herself with far more dignity and power than any 17 year old girl Lucas had ever known. Lucas found himself wondering what her childhood must've been like, for a moment, but brought himself back to reality and the conversation quickly.

"Let it live?" Lucas echoed the older knight, a little perplexed. Fleuri went on.

 "Griffins are majestic, noble creatures once you get past the whole horse-eating thing. There'd have been no point in trying to capture it, though- they're also immensely proud creatures that as we saw already, don't take well to being caged."

"Just imagine we broke it though, eh," Lucas offered with a grin. "My old man's best mate was the finest horse breaker in all the lands. Carrot was his name. Broke the wildest of stallions. Imagine we broke a griffin. Imagine the Knight-Captain's charge at the head of a column. There'd be no stoppin it. And no finer sight.

It was a joke, of course. Well... a half-joke. Well...

""Anyway, I guess you're probably right. If the griffin was no danger to good folk, then it was just another prisoner of Jeremiah. I didn't really think about it that way.

Lucas put a whole large potato in his mouth, not anticipating that it would still be so hot. His face froze in pain as he bit into it, desperately wanting to spit it out, but realising that such an action would cross the line of table etiquette, even by his own standards. And so, without thinking, he just swallowed. In one slow, laboured and painful motion, he swallowed the entire thing. The heat was intense, his face stuck with one eye squinting as he stared at Fleuri who was sharing his misgivings about their wild decision-making regarding the griffin.

"...It's a miracle I got out of it unharmed."

Lucas wasn't sharpest tool on the rack, but he noticed that this lesson wasn't just for Fleuri himself, but both of them. It was true; so many things could've gone wrong. He, himself, didn't escape without injury. After the battle, once he got himself to one of the healing mages in the rearguard, he'd discovered that adrenaline had been masking quite a few injuries. A broken collarbone. A broken rib. Fractured wrist. Concussion. And that was without the various grazes and lacerations. Back in the circus, they could've really done with one of the Iron Rose mages in their troupe. They were a boon unlike any other.

What he wanted to say was that heroes don't think about the danger to themselves, they just act - try to save the day. But this was the nonsense rambling of a young man. Instead, he tried to listen to the more experienced knight who was doing him the honour of imparting some wisdom and reflection on the battle.

"I'll try to do better aswell," he told Fleuri. "I just... it's hard to think... battles are..." it was difficult to find the right words. "Bloody madness," he finally settled on. He stopped himself from going on. It was just excuses for his misconduct. "But I will try. To think about my actions more." As much as he was trying to be more mature, the boy in him still escaped. "Got out of it alive though, eh. Sir Lein didn't get flattened. And we rode a griffin... sort of... for a second." He offered the last words with raised eyebrows and a cheeky grin, as if daring Fleuri to smile back. "Not bad, eh?"

By Reon. Already, the lesson appeared to be disappearing out of the thick skull of the gypsy.

After their exchange about the griffin, Lucas chose to focus on wolfing down the third and final course of his meal. Once he'd stopped talking, it didn't take long for the plates to be clean.

"Ah, I. Am. Done," he said to the Flower of the North. "I think I need proper drink tonight. A few, in fact."

Such bravado. Inside, he was worried that these images and sounds of the battle might not ever go away, but he could hardly explain that to anyone here. They were all well beyond their first battles. And what if word got back to the Knight-Captain or Paladin Tyaethe. Sir Lucas Storm can't handle the weight of killing? That might be the last straw.

"What will you be up to, with the rest of your day, Sir Fleuri?"


[System]
Age: 18
Height: 5'7"

ABSTRACT: A cheerful young girl with a natural curiosity

APPEARANCE:

DETAIL:
Like many of the other citizens of Heron, Rahna is quite adept at using her glider to get from place to place. Often she'd play with the other kids her age, having glider races and doing tricks on them. Although she was never the winner of said races, she kept her spirits up by cheering for the people that did. She was never really one for competitions, she just wanted everyone to have fun.

She enjoys learning about random things and about other people. Some say she's nosy, others say she's just naturally curious. The latter would be correct. However, she knows what she shouldn't be too curious about based on how people talk about whatever it is. But what she truly excelled at learning about was Herbalism, much to the delight of her mother, who was also a Herbalist. More often than not, she was the first person people would approach about small injuries and minor ailments.

Despite her cheerful nature, she can easily wind up in a situation where she doubts her abilities.

Equipment:
Hang-glider (Pretty basic, has bird wings painted on the wings of the glider.)
Notebook and charcoal (Filled with random pieces of knowledge on various things. Rather unorganized (Unless it's her plant encyclopedias), yet detailed. Mostly herbalist notes.)
Leather sling bag (containing various vials of salves and herbs... and the occasional fruit for a snack)
Small harvesting knife

[User]
Gaius Stronurr

The Forest Floor

 The difficulties ahead did little to dissuade Gaius in his romp across the forest floor. He lept and bounded across vines and brambles without trouble, and crushed anything that might've halted a smaller man's stride. His breath was stronger than he'd expected it to be. It made everything around him seem virtually insignificant! The upturned boulder poised no questions from him, he merely imagined smashing it to tiny bits with his bastard sword. Thoughts of golems controlled by earth-mages rang through his head as he pictured himself thrashing an entire army of the wretched constructs, what fun! He was far too distracted to notice the little red-capped mushroom man scurry past him, and the clanking of his armor drowned out anything Rahna had to say at first. Within moments, she'd been lost to him, left behind in the heat of his heavy sprint.

 It didn't take long for him to notice the large chimes in the distance, barely visible through the thickness of the forest. He slowed his pace with a sluggish clattering and lowered his body. Placing one hand on the hilt of his sword, Gaius watched carefully, and waited for a moment to strike. Those fragile creatures were no match for him!

 "Kiikii!" The little faerie dragon cooed quietly, hovering by Gaius' desheveled cheek and looking in the same direction as him. He turned towards it and cocked one eyebrow back. The little creature did the same and cooed again. "Kiio."

 "What in the king's name is with this forest? Leave me alone, little one!" He hissed, swatting the dragon away. The little creature sifted through his hand motions skillfully and nuzzled against his rough cheek. He shook his off and pushed it away with his armored hand. "Bloody- Eh?" A clamor of bones and rock pulled his attention back to the clearing nearby. One of the creatures was dispatched, and soon after, so was the other. He caught a glimpse of some sort of wolf, and... Blank!?

 Gaius rushed his way into the clearing, crushing branches and tearing vines as he struggled into plain view with a loud clattering of metal. "Aye!" He shouted, bursting into sight with all sorts of softer plant life clinging to his armor's joints. Though, without his helmet, Gaius felt practically naked as he noticed that nearly everyone from the survey group had ended up in this clearing. The small faerie dragon fluttered its way towards his messy hair and plopped right on top of his head with a harmless buzzing noise. Gaius looked over the scene, noticing the mushroom people scurrying about and speaking nonsense that he didn't bother to acknowledge.

 "Aye..." He mumbled, "Must've hit my head harder than I thought.."

[Assistant]
Blin "Brytag" Alborse  Eli Wyn

Blin grinned as Eli approached him and punched him, in a friendly manner, in his shoulder. Kal moved to the other side, carefully keeping its own eyes on the red furred little mouse creature. Blin clapped his iwn hand on Eli's shoulder.

"It's great to see you made it down...."

"Yes," Eli replied with a nod of his own, his expression growing serious for a few moments, "Now we miss only one - I hope she's okay. I really hop-" As he was about to finish, a shuffling sensation cut him off.

A blur of white, and Kalikorix had shot from Blin's shoulder and ran along his arm onto Eli, the red fox-mouse squeaked a battlecry of pure terror and startled from its hiding place began to shoot around Eli's upper torso. Kal followed swiftly but not as fast, its wings seemed to impede its speed as it raced to follow.

Blin took his arm back in shock at Kal's action and stared to speak when he noticed something subtle about the chase. Kal was losing ground. No the mouse-fox was gaining it. The distances between the two altered and all of a sudden Blood Terror of the Night Sky was chasing Kalikorix the White Dragon around.

"What the...."

Kal had suddenly leapt from Eli and glided to Blin's shoulder, Blood Terror in sheer abandon jumped the distance to follow. They did one pass around Blin's shoulders before Kal's claw dug into Blin's shoulder and it tipped over onto its back. Kal back legs clawed into the cloth Blin was wearing and a little into his flesh (again) and its front legs splayed up and outwards. Blood Terror ran into Kal, it squeaked shrilly once again and darted it's tiny head about looking for escape.

Both the friends companions were breathing heavily and Kal's head drooped backward on its long flexible neck before its eyes closed and its panting began gentle snores. Its two front legs didn't exactly grip the scared mouselike creature, more like gave it a hug.

"...Hell?" Eli finished Blin's sentence as he watched the race unfold. The two seemed to be getting along and it actually looked as if their respective companions held some traits similar to their owners - if that's what Blin and Eli even were to them. Eli approached the fiery mouse, before gently taking it away from the "death" hug of the White Dragon. "Rest a bit, furry." Eli said with a smile, as he put it into the front pocket of his shirt.

[User]
A colorful quiet drifted peacefully throughout the oversized forest; in the absence of the Chimes, birds began once again to warble and argue in the boughs overhead. Bushes shifted and rustled as woodland creatures scurried by; a trio of deer emerged from under the draping leaves to chew at the sprightly grasses on a hill a short distance away.

The key in Blank's palm was very old, and appeared to have been molded by hand and crafted out of crude brass. Instead of teeth, there was a single metal panel that was punched through with tiny symbols: stars and squares and triangles. The bow of the key was an ornately carved knot of three winding lines. It was, altogether, as big as Blank's hand and unusually heavy for its size.

The little mushroom-man hopped to the ground and grinned toothlessly up at Eli. "I dunno! They just showed up last night!" He waved his little arms in confusion. "There was a flash and a boom and everything shivered and then a whole flock of them bony-birds swooped in and started grabbing people and flinging rocks around like they owned the place! I call them Chimes, but I dunno what they are really. There's more than those, I know that, but at least two down, right?"

He'd barely finished speaking when he scrambled and waddled straight at Sera, excited to get in on all this introduction business that was going on without him. "Hi Sera, I'm Kipkik, just Kip! I like your dreamwisp! Very fwooshy!"

He rushed over to Blin and hopped for attention. "Hi Blin, I'm Kip! You're very sleepy aren't you? Ask your dreamwisp not to eat me okay?"

With a waddle and a toddle of his big capped head, he tugged on Nikki's pantleg. "Hi Nikki, I'm Kip! I like your dreamwisp too! Very fluttery! Do you like shiny things?"

He didn't wait for an answer before he waddled off toward Blank -- but he got one good look at that wolf and hesitated fearfully. "Nice puppy!" He didn't move too close, and finally decided to skip over to Gaius, where he knocked on the knight's boot.

"Hi! I'm Kip! What's your name, mister tin man? Your dreamwisp is very pretty!" Kip was so enamored and excited by the prospect of making all these new friends that he didn't consider actually stopping for conversation.

He hopped and waved his little arms. "Hey! Hey Eli! Hey Sera! Hey Blin! Hey Nikki! Hey wolf-guy! Hey tin man! Are you from the island? Are you islanders? From the sky! From the village in the clouds! Huh? Yeah! You're sky-people!" He laughed joyously and ran in circles. "Sky people! Sky people! I have sky-people friends!" He stopped after a moment and sat down, huffing. "But what are sky people doing here? Did you fall?"

The mushroom stared at her from within the dark log -- and after a few moments, slowly crawled closer. "Hello." It was a small, almost childish voice. He slowly reached out and gripped the edge of the hole in the log, and poked his lopsided capped head out, peering up at Rahna with beetle-black eyes. "You're weird. Are you going to eat me?" His eyes lifted to the strange fox at Rahna's shoulder. "Is your dreamwisp going to eat me? I'm not very good."

He crawled out entirely, slow and miserable as if accepting his fate, certain he was about to be eaten.

The forest around them was deep and enormous; pools of light shone down between the magnificent leaves and powerful branches of the trees that towered overhead. Everything was bright green, pocked occasionally by violet blooms and red petals; and blue, white-flowered vines that wrapped trunks and upturned boulders like neat packages. The birds and wildlife had begun to sing and skitter again, now that the chaos of the crashing rocks had been silenced.

The fox at Rahna's shoulder had noticed -- but had not understood -- an aura of energy that surrounded a distant statue, half hidden behind flowered foliage. The energy didn't change, and there was nothing suspicious or dangerous about it, so the fox was inclined to relax.

The little mushroom squeezed his eyes shut, awaiting the inevitable.

[Assistant]
Blin "Brytag" Alborse

It made sense, that hollow noise that they had made on appoarching them the first time, so may as well call them Chimes. Blim calming stroked Kal's belly as the tiny dragon slept, it mewed and hugged his finger in sleep and grinned as Eli took Blood Terror away. "they are quite the pair." he said and turned as the mushroom-man waddled up them both.

He hopped for attention. "Hi Blin, I'm Kip! You're very sleepy aren't you? Ask your dreamwisp not to eat me okay?"

Dreamwisp? "Well I called..." kip had already waddled away. Did he dream it real? He did vaugely remember a dream, it seemed ages ago, about flying on a great dragon. He looked at the sleeping dragon again, Kal was bigger in his dreams though, but a dragon and Kal in both were they not just as intelligent.

"Eli, is Blood Terror okay? I mean was he upset when Nikki came over?" He didn't want to upset her, she had after all saved him several times, and there was something....Blin looked away before he could red "Just asking, because Kal seems to enjoying pinching mefar too much." He gently unhooked Kalikorix and turned the dragon over so it sleep in the crook of his arm.

Kip was speaking again to everyone, Blin was going to answer when Kip's last words clicked in his head. "Fall? I crashed actually. oh crap, my gear. We need to go back, I got some supplies that could be useful." He couldn't remember if they were crushed, and if they weren't he couldn't remember what was even in there. "I think."

[User]
She watched as the mushroom approached her. 'Oh my gosh, it's so cuuute~' She thought. Rahna couldn't help but giggle at what the mushroom man had said. "Eat you? No I won't~!" she replied with a warm, cheerful smile on her face. She had backed away slightly from the log to give the animated mushroom some room to breath, she didn't want to seem threatening or anything like that. She stroked the head of the fox that sat on her shoulder, "You mean Clover? No, he won't eat you either~" She added as she gingerly plucked a mint leaf from her companion's back. She held it out to the bipedal mushroom, "Here, this should help calm your nerves."

Talking mushrooms and large bone-y birds. This forest was quite a wondrous place. Rahna slowly stood up, her eyes taking in the surroundings. It was much more peaceful now that the monsters were gone and the sounds of conflict had faded away. Her gaze fell upon something in the distance.. A statue of some sort, although it was hard to see since it was half covered in flowers. She somehow felt that the statue had an energy around it, but it wasn't dangerous at all. She wanted to go take a closer look.

She turned to the mushroom man with a smile, "Well, since we're the only ones here, it's best that we stay together right? I'm going to go look at the statue, want to come with me?"