[System]
LILAC SHIMMER
19 y/o | Female | 154cm (5'0.5")
NATIONALITY:
Canadian
APPEARANCE:
Casual Wear

Uniform

Part Timer

Bonnie is a French Canadian oft bearing a smile on her lips and a spring in her step, as long as there hasn't been a long night slaying pageless on a school night. She's a tiny bit short, but otherwise limber and athletic, and insists her next growth spurt is right around the corner, regardless of what any senior magical girls tell her. Her pride and joy is taking great care of her extravagant hair and hairstyle, which nicely frames her pale skin and sparkling lilac-pink eyes.

Lilac Shimmer strides on the battlefield garbed in radiant attire. The striking white core of her outfit serves to accept the colors of Joyeuse and live up to her name, shimmering finer than silk in the aurora of Joyeuse's power. And, one cannot forget Joyeuse himself, a kingly companion, a fine stout medieval longsword, no flippant rapier, crowned with a hilt of royal gold. In her hands the blade seems large enough to be wielded two handed, and at times she will, but as a Magical Girl she can nonetheless wield it with deadly ease in a single hand.

Inside school, Bonnie's outfit is not exactly kept to an exactingly formal standard. Comfort is more important for those mid-class naps. Outside of school or work, Bonnie tends towards tomboyish outfits, though one might occasionally find her aiming for a cute or elegant appeal instead of a handsome one. Relatively common is a mix and match, with a rather boyish top combined with a skirt. The exception to the rule is her extravagant work uniform.

GRIMOIRE:
Title: La Chanson de Roland

Classification: Fable

The Song of Roland is an epic poem of medieval France, celebrating deeds of honor, kingship, battle and crusade. Dating back to the 11th century, it is a tale of some longevity, being quite popular in medieval France. It is a tale of court and crusade, justice and treachery.

In Bonnie's hands, the Grimoire grants her the sword of Charlemange. As for the reason the Song of Roland grants her Charlemange's blade, she's not sure, though Charles is prominently featured. Perhaps it has something to do with a right to rule? But if so, what does a mere magical girl rule? Bonnie does not yet understand the significance, still puzzling as to the deeper meanings.

While the Song of Roland is a historically important tale, oft credited with aiding the rise of French national sentiment, it certainly doesn't have worldwide reach. Durandal the blade of Roland is probably more famous than Roland or his song, simply for appearing as a legendary weapon in games. But it is little more than a name to most. How many do you know that actually read the Song of Roland? And perhaps more importantly, the modern world has little positive regard for crusades and wars of religion these days. As such, the Song of Roland is currently classified as Fable rank.

The Song of Roland's primary ability is to summon for Lilac Shimmer the legendary sword of Charlemange, Joyeuse, a powerful longsword of shifting colors. While later legends might ascribe to it the power of Longinus, Joyeuse is not as mythical as that weapon. It is nonetheless peerless to any mortal blade and possesses a curious power.

While drawn, Joyeuse may be used to create colorful displays of vibrant, joyful even, lights. This power seems to act naturally when Lilac is enjoying the thrill of battle resulting in the battlefield being lit up like a festival.

Finally, as a melee type magical girl, Lilac Shimmer indeed possesses the typical physical suite of enhancements assumed of that type.
BIOGRAPHY:
Bonnie can be described as typically enthusiastic and bombastic, but still trying to find her place in the world. She will oft make bold declarative statements of truth, but internally doubt as to whether they really are so. If she's willing to share her doubts with you, it's a strong sign of her trust that she doesn't make for many.

Bonnie has a rather direct and immediate approach to most problem solving. Pageless? Transform, pronounce judgment, and strike! Need money? Go around and see who's hiring. Schoolwork? Ah, who cares, just write something down, a guess is better than a blank sheet. She tends towards decisively doing the most obvious solution, even if perhaps a bit more care should be taken to determine the proper solution.

The exception to this habit is relational issues, that instead have her shaking in her boots and taking no action at all or reacting defensively. The loss of her Magical Girl Team, not to Pageless, but simply drifting apart, has shattered her confidence in that regard.

Overall, she's still young, even if not quite as young as she looks, and puts up a brave front to try and hide a teeming mass of insecurities.

Bonnie's own story is not all that unbelievable or out of the ordinary. A bright young girl of 19 years, traveling to a university abroad to study. The subject of her study, being a magical girl, may certainly be out of the norm, but as a whole her past is not what troubles her, but the future.

Bonnie Chance was born an only child to French Canadians, not in Quebec, but in London. London Ontario that is. Bonnie still keeps in contact with her parents regularly, for as much they know, she is enjoying a full ride scholarship in a prestigious far off academy. Bonnie keeps back ups of every single message they share with each other across the pond, dreading the day when she has to break ties with them. A magical girls lot is not a mortals lot, and eventually the two worlds must shift apart.

Bonnie became a magical girl three years ago, while attending a camp in the woods. Tales and chocolates exchanged by firelight, interrupted by an eerie howl came from the darkness. The chaperone told them to stay as he would check it out, and they huddled close whispering whether it was beast or prank. A scream issued from where their chaperone investigated. The others fled in panic to their cabins, but something different steeled Bonnie. Grabbing a stout stick and the flashlight app on her phone, she set forth into the darkness.

What she found was one of the Pageless, this one a twisted beast both moose and man the size of a van and crowned in gore soaked horns. An impossible beast a thousand times her match. Yet she could not help but charge. From her lips spilled forth not a battle cry, but a song, a poem, in flowing words she knew not. Something French. The stick in her hands was not a stick anymore, but a glorious blade, and Lilac Shimmer cleaved the beast in twain.

But Bonnie was not alone that night, multiple Pageless had attacked different campers, and more than one Magical Girl was born that night, defending the woods. In the months after, they formed a small Magical Girl team, defending London and the surrounding area against the Pageless. Eventually, however, this team came to an end. Not because of the Pageless, but ironically, joining a 'greater' team. Eventually they were recruited into the Grand Ministry, and, amid that larger team, lost their smaller identity.

Having lost that solidarity of the smaller team in which she was a prominent member, Bonnie now finds herself questioning her place in the vast Grand Ministry.

ODDS AND ENDS:
She doesn't know much of French culture, beyond some fragmented snippets of language and here and there. She knows enough to get the joke in her name, for example. She's been struggling to try and read her Grimoire in its original text, but so far has resorted to reading English translations. Given the French origins of her tale, she's a little disappointed Marrywell is in Britain as opposed to France.
Here are some places I'd love to see her story go. If you've got an idea for any of them, hit me up.

The Grand Ministry: Bonnie has mixed feelings. She's happy with the opportunity to study in Marrywell and the support they can offer her, but struggles with how she's effectively lost her smaller team as the former members seek position within the Grand Ministry.

The Song of Roland: Bonnie struggles to understand the moral she should take from the tale. It's not exactly time to reconquer Spain from the muslims, so the meaning must be something else.

The Nature of a King: Bonnie feels a desire to live up to the legend of Charlemange.. But it's not right for a magical girl to go around conquering countries right?

Two Worlds: Bonnie is putting off facing the fact that being a magical girl will eventually result in her walking very different paths to her parents.

The King's Court: Bereft of her former teammates, Bonnie feels alone in a crowd. She's worried it's her own fault for the group splitting up, and that if she was of greater charisma she could have kept them together.

In a Name: Bonnie came up with her magical girl name herself on a whim 3 years ago, and worries it's a bit childish for her knightly/kingly image she's aiming for nowadays. Is foolhardy pride to want a cooler name, or simply a matter of growth?

[User]
Suzuya Kuzunoha

What followed after the team's run-in with Moonlight Tsubasa was less a patrol and more a tense walkabout the city. If any of them had the presence to truly be keeping an eye out for Pageless they didn't find anything, but it was more likely attention would be turned inwards, at least for Suzuya. At least the rainy weather was a familiar comfort, the soft crackle of rain evaporating against her bushy tails forming a steady background noise she savored.

Even with the awkwardness of the other team flying by to check in on them. And for all her frustration and discomfort, Suzuya didn't say a word of it. Slipping into the role of the shy foreighner was easy when it served a purpose, and it let her reach the academy without any further attempts at provocation. And Suzuya was quite aware she'd tried to provoke a response at the stupidest time, nearly re-igniting the conflict they'd barely averted with her slap to Camelot.

Pride was not something Suzuya was used to holding in high regard, but her Grimoire was not something she felt she could stand to be insulted on top of everything else. She was no King Arthur and she was hardly to ever be known outside her home country, but it wasn't some great hero that had saved Suzuya from her first brush with the Pageless. It was the story of a warrior wife who lived for love, only to suffer as her supposed allies betrayed her and placed insurmountable odds before her that claimed the life of her heart's dearest.

Suzuya blinked, a moment of realization dawning upon her and snapping her from her thoughts to notice steam no longer wafted from her cup of green tea. Sitting beneath an umbrella-covered table in Merrywell's courtyard, her magic keeping her dry and cozy as she looked out over the grounds. She found herself waiting for her room mate, the elegant Alter with her terrifying paramour that Suzuya found a newfound desire to connect with.

Her likely deepseeded trust issues aside, she found the hypocrisy of judging Camelot while following her mistakes simply impossible to swallow. Even if it proved...difficult, she was going to get to know her roommate.

[Assistant]
As Ozma walked the halls of Marrywell Academy, something exciting was unfolding.

With the sound of thunder, a large explosion bursts up from the right wing of the school. An entire classroom went up into smoke as students poured out through the halls in fear and panic, thinking they were under attack. A fire alarm would ring and sprinklers would spray cold water across the halls. All of this certainly got the attention of Ozma and any other students who had arrived at the academy.

The culprit would step out from the smoke and dust, coughing and blowing the smoke from her face with a wave of her hand. Her metal arms would crackle with electrifying power to summon a large vaccum nozzle, sucking up the dark clouds and removing them from view. Any flames nearby are promptly put out with a water nozzle hose, summoned just as fast on her transforming arms.

"Ozma! You're late! You missed my defense training class, dumkopf! It was a real banger!"

The perpetrator would rush up to the redhead and suddenly tackle her in a gripping hug, squeezing her waist and covering the poor magical girl in soot and ash. It's none other than Valeria Weisenbaum, Charlotte's old partner from her past.

"Bit of a minor miscalculation there with a student's spell, but nothing to fear! I've got it under control!"

Behind her, the roof of the blasted out classroom finally collapsed in onto itself and was reduced to a heap of rubble and metal with gray smoke bellowing up from its destruction.

"I can fix this! I promise!"

[User]
Perhaps someone stronger than Bonnie would have sought to make amends between Camelot and Burning Heart. Mend the cracks that were slowly growing. But in that moment, all she wanted to do was to melt in Burning Heart's embrace.

To Bonnie, there was a raw difference in the two proclamations of friendship. In her eyes, Camelot's seemed driven by duty and pity, that she was a project to fix, a friendship that would be nothing more than a painful reminder of all the things wrong with her until she was 'fixed' to Camelot's standards. While Burning Heart felt like maybe, maybe, finally, Bonnie had found someone who enjoyed being around her. That maybe she wasn't broken after all.

And in that hope, Bonnie could find refuge, safe in Burning Heart's Arms, hugging her tightly back. "Thank you." She whispered with her head low into Burning Heart's shoulder.

--

Space to be filled with potential after patrol/after meeting up with the other team shenanigans here.


[System]
"Eh, maybe later.."

Basics
Race:
Tothum.

Gender:
Female.

Age:
23.

Additional Info
Personality:
Atlas' main trait would be apathetic. That goes for her looks, others' looks, things going around her, or just in general. As handy as this could be for saving your feelings from getting hurt, it doesn't help when she has to make choices. Usually, she's a go with the flow type of gal, but this can be a pain when she's given options. Especially about her future, where her indecisiveness makes it hard for her to even have the slightest idea on what she wants to do.

Matched with her uncaring attitude is her laziness. It takes a lot of convincing to get her to do something. Your best bet to get her to do something would be offering her something food related. But even then, she's pretty reluctant to do something that she doesn't want to. Most of the time, she prefers dozing in the shade for a couple hours. If something requires hard labor, you can most certainly count her out despite that being one of the only things she's really good at.

She is passive towards people, not wanting to be on sides other than her own. Atlas isn't much of a people's person, and can be a bit uncomfortable when around people for long periods of time. Given her reclusiveness, she can be rather socially awkward, so she doesn't talk much as she has no idea what to say most of the time. Sh

Something that must be pointed out would be that although she doesn't care about most things, she does indeed care about the well being of others over herself. Following the stereotypical gentle giant, she likes to watch out for others, which explains her companionship with her little Neth friend, Rykiar.

Appearance:
Atlas, being rightfully named, is quite tall and has an almost intimidating size. Being from the chilly Toth region, one must put a bit of bulk on, which explains her being on the more heavier side. She appears more akin to that of a bull rather than possessing more of a feminine figure of most lady Tothum. This doesn't bother her, however, despite often being mistaken for a male. With snow comes thick fur, her own being a shaggy blue-gray, aside from her whiskered snout and stomach which are a lighter gray.

Being a Tothum, Atlas has dark gray hooves, perfect for not losing your toes to frostbite up north. Along with her hooves are a pair of horns, usually kept short and rounded off when her transformation magic isn't in play. Noticeably, above her warm brown eyes are thick eyebrow markings, giving her a rather angry appearance.

As for clothes, she tends to keep it simple. She wears a parka like top over a plain tunic as well a pair of short pants that cut off at her haunches. Atlas tends to dress rather lightly due to her heavy fur that makes her overheat easily.

Height:
7'3 ft.

Weight:
250 lbs.

Fight related
Magic:
Transformation.

Class:
Wanderlusty Nomad

Weapons/Items:
Has a knapsack she carries with her that has supplies like food, basic medicinal herbs, and most likely a few of Rykiar's belongings.

Strengths:
-Good at being on the defensive, be it taking a beating, or protecting others, she can stand being in the front lines and having others hide behind her as she takes the blunt of the attack.

-Pretty strong, be it for fighting or carrying something heavy, she's the one to go to.

Weaknesses:
-Is on the slow side, no thanks to her laziness or even her large size. This also includes in battle, as she takes her time making attacks, often waiting for the perfect time, but it could be a mistake on her part and not being quick enough.

-She's also rather easily tired, usually after using her magic abilities enough exhausts her and is down for the count.

-Her attitude and carefree ways can hinder her to not care in dire situations, or even make her own choices that may not be necessarily right.

-Overheats easily, and is often sluggish in warmer weather. Fire elemental magic is a big no-no for her.

Techniques:
Atlas heavily relies on her transformation magic, using it to overpower her enemy, or mostly just to flee. She will alter her body whatever it calls for the situation, such as:
* Tougher skin/scaly plates for defense
* Sharp claws/fangs/horns
* Wings
* Growth in size and strength

But as mentioned, all these alterations, especially when combined, will tucker her out pretty easily. As a result, Atlas will only really use magic when the moment calls for it.

Flavor:
Theme Song:
Come on you hermit, you never fight back

[User]
Kern also was there, sort of. He was in druidic dream, something like normal sleep, but in the course of it, the mind can move around the world in the process when the body sleeps. Thanks to the Druidic dream  he knows what's going on in the world. He saw everything from the initial arguments until the end of the fight. In the middle of the fight there have been some disruption, he have to focus to recover the eyes of the mind. Then he saw one of the Erion spirits. He was Terrified, for a long time he did not see any necromancer and especially one reigning over spirits. It's one of the souls that are causing disruption.

He woke up in his woods, the situation he saw forced him into reflection, for a long time he didn't seen that talented young men. Especially that young necromancer.

He started to pack, "it's time go get out of shadow"  , after checking the map drawn by himself a couple of years ago, had hoped that map is still current, he decided to walk to Avist. He took up his staff and wore the bag on the shoulder.

He had to go away for a while and had to turn around to remind himself when he first found this place and decided to stay here. It was 20 years ago, he was still quite young ursine fascinated by nature, he was there because of her friend - Allet. She was, however, murdered by a gang of thugs a few weeks later. Precisely for this reason, Kern decided to get away from the society and be a lone resident of the forest

"Bye Home"

[Assistant]
Several javelins, spear jabs, and even more lightning and the thing was down. The others obviously contributed quite a bit, however, it seems like the quick cat wanted the last attack on the thing, with it just falling over as soon as he positioned himself to exploit the wound I had created moments ago. "Ah, that's alright, kitty, maybe you'll get the next one!" I said to him as he complained about not getting the kill. The bear seemed to walk away, obviously in a horrible mood after all of this, however, the rest of the group just decided to use the wurm as a bench. I decided to do pretty much the same as I overheard the cat and the lion talk about feeding a whole village with this thing. "With this thing? Heh, we could feed AND armor up an entire village," I pointed out as I tried to remove one of the thing's many heavy, tough scales. The lion said something about smiles eventually fading, and while I was going to say something, he sucker punched me with his name and wanting to travel together. "Name's Thorvald, and yeah I'd like to travel together, it's been a while since I've adventured with a miracle worker, and they're always helpful," I then turned my head towards the fox, and tried to remember where I've seen magic like his... that weird, bright magic that doesn't really trace itself to any particular element... I know it's not miracles, their spells are almost always defensive in nature, and I know he didn't use illusions, as the beast responded to his magic blasts with pain. By process of elimination, the fox was either an enchanter, like the cat, or he was a... necromancer...

 Funniest thing, I've worked with necros before, on several occasions, even. Most of them are 'dark and brooding', or 'cool loners who don't want help, but still desperately need it', though, I almost never trust them fully just because of this one time when a couple of them kept offering me the exact same soup even after I told them that I didn't need food, that I brought plenty of my own. I switched my bowl with one of them, and he died from poisoning. While I don't trust them with food... I still don't see why everyone thinks they're ALL evil like that, that they ALL want to build an undead army, 'cause... there's more of them than you'd think, a lot of them try to hide as fake illusionists, or warriors, either focusing on the visual aspect of their soul powers... or just focusing on using some kind of weapon or another well. Because I knew what people generally thought of necromancers, I decided to stay quiet about him, and instead, I asked the cat "So, what was that whole ordeal with the bear group back there, huh? I was going to swoop down and scare everyone away with lightning, but I never really figured out who did what," I then chuckled, slightly, adding "Yeah, guess my eyes were always better than my ears, huh?" Of course, I'd have to take what he said as 'his' side of the story... he'd probably make himself out as some hero, or someone who did no wrong, but that group was talking about him stealing something. A cat thief... heh... guess he'd be a literal cat burglar, wouldn't he?

[User]
The forested area in which they traveled was peacefully quiet, aside from the rhythmic clomping that came from the Tothum's slow steady gait. Atlas was about ready to drop, but she kept pushing forward. Who knew what was hiding behind the next tree. She wasn't exactly worried for herself, the bovine was more than capable to handle the most intimidating foe. It was the little Neth she was more worried about. Knowing well that her companion was also tired, Atlas allowed Rykiar to ride along on her shoulders, also hoping his increased height would allow him to find any sign of civilization. Long story short, they were lost, tired and hungry.
"Surely we would have made it by now," wearily complained Atlas, referring to the next town over from the one they stayed at more than a week ago. The innkeeper had stated it was just a "hop, skip and jump" away, her words not theirs. She may have just been exaggerating just a bit, her rooms being a bit less than "five stars" as she had also mentioned.

Shady innkeepers aside, the pair were getting desperate, having run out of food days before as they didn't bother buying supplies while they were at the previous town. It also didn't help they didn't have a cent to their names. Atlas had hoped there'd be at least one opportunity to make some cash on the way. Maybe pull some weeds from someone's yard, or even stop some robber. Hell, Atlas would even slay a monster, and that was saying something for the lazy cow.

Before too long, it was her limit, the Tothlum haltingnly to immediately slump over on the ground. Rykiar of course had a bit of a tumble, brushing himself off in minor annoyance. As calm as he usually is, the Neth was also at his wit's end with the whole starving situation. He sat beside Atlas who continued being strewn out on the unexpectedly comfortable forest floor. They sat quietly, both trying to figure a game plan and how to not die an early age.

"Guess we'll have to live on dirt," the Tothum mumbled through her own mouthful from when she fell over. Sitting up, she shook her head, spitting out her bland meal of soil. She huffed, looking around the empty forest for a solution, although if the answer she wanted was [i]tree[/], it seemed they were doomed.

Above the sounds of their stomachs eating themselves, there was a sudden sign of commotion. Ears perking to try to deceiver whatever was going on, Atlas guessed it was some sort f battle, or some wild party. It seemed like there were several people, and from her experience that usually meant trouble. Looking over at Rykiar, he obviously heard it as well. Hopping to his feet and staring almost longingly toward the disturbance. Atlas took this as a sign that her relaxing time was over and it was time to go. Without warning, she gently picked up her friend and placed him on her shoulders once more and uncertainly continued on.

It was most certainly the sounds of battle that echoed as they approached quietly, well at least the tail end of it. There was no way she'd have the energy to fight at the moment, the same going for the mouse. As much as they should really avoid any sort of conflict, they were still drawn to the others, out of curiosity if anything. But as the saying goes, curiosity did kill the Lah'na, right?

They hid from a good distance that allowed them to watch and listen, but still not attract attention. In the center of a clearing was a various group of people, a Shael, two Lah'na, as well as a Vulpine. As normal as it is to see others, Atlas more so focused on the giant ass wurm lying dead. "Did they kill that?" Atlas whispered in shock. She wondered if they should even cross paths with this group if they act like kill such a monster was nothing, at least from what she assumed from where they watched.

Looking down, at her friend, he was gazing at the fallen creature, and Atlas could almost hear the gears turning in his head. For a brief second, the Tothum wondered what he could possibly want to do with the monster, but her eyes widened as she figured it out. They suddenly shared the same idea, keeping their eyes on the prize: the wurm. Atlas wouldn't call herself a criminal mastermind, or even a thief, but it may as well be their only means of survival for the pair, so they had nothing much to lose. Well aside from their lives of course.

Even on his good day, Rykiar wouldn't be much help moving the wurm. The cow knew she'd be doing the literal heavy lifting, that wasn't much of an issue. Her main concern, however, was the group they'd have to take the monster from. Atlas was sure they intended to make a decent coin on that thing from the way they began to skin it. But their strategy would most likely work. I mean who would expect someone to steal a monster? Atlas thought, uncharacteristically giddy with excitement and probably on the delusional side in her exhausted state.

This was it, they were ready. Climbing on her back once more, Rykiar gave a nod toward Atlas. She then used her transformation magic, growing into what she calls her Beast form. As the title suggests, her body was now double her already large size, matched with deadly horns, hooves becoming sharp talons, and a pair of large wings to help with get away. Her transformation was quick and successful, but was limited.

Rykiar clung on tight, all the while he concentrated. With his Illusion abilities, he created a distraction, the newly formed creature appearing out of nowhere on the farther side of the clearing, letting out a terrible roar loud enough for Atlas to crash through the trees. Moving fast before they both pass out from the overuse of their abilities, the extra-large Tothum, ripped off a good sized chunk of the dead creature, careful of its sharp hide, and picked it up with a bit of difficulty.

With a meaty beat of her large wings, they were off in the skies, the illusion monster dissolved. Wurm being dragged along precariously, they looked for the nearest town to cash in their prize.


[System]
T a f f yThe Healer

---
A G E

20

E T H N I C B A C K G R O U N D

Novan, Raccoon (Lotori)

D E S C R I P T I O N

-Raccoon-pattern Gray, Black and White Fur
-Raven-black hair with straight bangs and a long single braid that reaches down to the small of her back
-Red long-sleeved button-up shirt, jeans, hiking shoes

C A P A B I L I T I E S

Field Medic: Taffy has spent the last two years studying at the Medical Institute of Colosse to become a doctor. Part of this training is to give her an expert grasp of first aid, CPR, physical and massage therapy, lifeguard swimming and rescue, and the use of certain advanced Novan medical technologies to speed up healing and prevent infection. The Colossan Institute is very comprehensive in training medical experts, and Taffy is among the best students there.

Fit as a Fiddle: Taffy has dedicated a great amount of her personal time to keeping her body strong with gymwork and aerobic exercise, like hiking and swimming, during the past two years of medical study. While not especially stronger or faster than the average Novan, Taffy has a capacity for endurance and experience with camping on her own. She is able to slug onward through difficult conditions and is surprisingly physically tough.

Hard As Nails: Manifesting in a gruff outward shell of straightforward stubbornness, Taffy isn't interested in playing games or beating around the bush. Her terrible bedside manner aside, she has a powerful drive to become a better doctor and person, to be prepared for anything, as a result of a personal tragedy that happened shortly after her first year at the Colossan Institute. If she thinks someone needs help, she helps them, whether or not she likes them and whether or not they want the help. And pray for anyone who gets in her way, for she is full of flame and fury, and does not suffer fools lightly.

Also, she has a mean crotch-destroying kick, reserved for those who particularly raise her ire.

[User]
---

Yony Southeastern Mir - The Fall

---

"Ain't feel dangerous, oke. Back dat way though? Koud as fok."

Xell suppressed surprise hearing the boy's raspy voice crackle quietly not far from him. A initial glance making him take a second. The flashlight the otter had attached to his head appeared to have been turned off at first. But with the second glance he realized it was just the effect of looking at the brighter lights they were all carrying. The torch was still on, but a dim red color, the pink coated youth moving it around the paths behind them slowly and fluidly. He moved back the way they came some and crouched in front of a tree, still scanning back the way they'd come while the newcomer was called out.

[Assistant]
---

SashaSoutheastern Mir - The Fall

---

Well, at least they aren't will-of-the-wisps... However, they also didn't seem to be completely friendly either. Although, she couldn't really blame them, it being after dark in the Fall and all. Gulping, Sasha took a deep breath and emerged from the bushes.

[User]
---

X e l lSoutheastern Mir - The Fall

---

"Ain't feel dangerous, oke. Back dat way though? Koud as fok."

Xell suppressed surprise hearing the boy's raspy voice crackle quietly not far from him. He also noted him standing back somewhat, still doning the headlamp as if to cover more surface area with it.
'So he can talk?' Xell scratched his head 'what the hell is that dialect though? The way-upward mountains or something?'

The Draconi turned back to the source of the voice in a slight daze. Perplextion washing over his face as he noted a strange hybrid like creature emerge from the shaded foliage. Her form outlined from the light coming off the Youth.

The newcomer appeared to be mostly canine but had feline traits. Even doning a pair of wings which didn't look particularly fit for flight or other heavy duty aerodynamics.

"Ha." Xell drawled curtly "you remind me of one of hell's oil feathered serpents! I'd say that's why you survived this long in the Fall
without getting eaten."
'Oh God, did I just say that out loud.' he bit his lower lip after his comment was met with silence.

"Where exactly are you trying to get to?" He said, adopting a friendlier tone. He'd give what the Youth said about the newcomer the benefit of the doubt.

[Assistant]
---

M a xSoutheastern Mir - The Fall

---

What the fucking fuck?!

Max tensed, his free hand nearly jolting for his revolver on instinct. He had heard of the mutants that inhabited The Fall, but he thought they were boogeymen, ghost stories, fables, and paranoid bullshit. But what he saw in front of him didn't look any Novan he had ever seen and it unnerved him to see such a creature emerging from the darkness of the forest. In fact, had she just came out of the bushes without calling out for help he would've probably shot her. He was pretty glad that was not the case. As he looked to the girl and the group, gauging the reactions of all involved parties, he listened on—choosing not to talk or show his wariness or genuine surprise of the girl's appearance.

That is, until the Draconi said what he was thinking.

Max didn't particularly care if the Draconi's words insulted the… whatever it was that stood in front of them, but realistically if the other pirate had "noped" out of his plane like he had there was a particular threat that could be looming in the forest. They didn't have the time to dwaddle and make smalltalk; they needed to keep moving. So with that in mind Max decided to take leadership and support Taffy's initiative to move away from the crashsite.

"Eh, can we keep moving? I don't think standing and talking in The Fall is good for our health. We can talk as we get on, yeh?"

[User]
T a f f ySoutheastern Mir - The Fall

---

Finally, words that actually make him sound he's got a real brain inside that prickly skull of his! thought Taffy as Max suggested the group move along. She had started to get annoyed enough with Xell's veiled stabs that she was glad the Draconi was keeping his distance from the group proper, or she might've tweaked his ear rather soundly...or worse.

Not that she hadn't had her own heart leap into her throat the moment that the newcomer stepped out of the underbrush and trees. Her own experience with the Fall had left her less superstitious than most, but it also put her on edge in case she ran into that thing again, and the newcomer had been big enough with her wings wrapped around herself to give Taffy a momentary flashback that made her want to stab something.

Fortunately, very fortunately, the moment passed quickly, and Taffy was almost relieved to see the mutant wolf girl there instead. Medically speaking, such hybrids were still quite rare among Novans, whose genetics usually tended to firmly favor one of the parents' species or another, rather than muddle the two up. But the hybrids occurred with enough frequency that it was a requirement of study in case a doctor needed to treat one - and that could be tricky indeed, since more often than not, the hybrids had quirks that made their innards as much a hashmash of features from different species as their outer selves showed.

As far as Taffy could tell, though, the new arrival looked fairly harmless in the flashlight beams leveled at her. The fact that she held onto what looked like a map also indicated she was probably lost, which further tempered Taffy's reaction.

The raccoon girl opened her mouth to say, "Max is right," but her teeth ground shut the instant she tried to say that, and she sort of gurgled instead. Then she unclenched her teeth and changed her tack by saying instead, "Come along with us, we can figure out how to help you find where you're going once we get to safety. My name is Taffy Tanner - what's yours?"

Some more introductions were shared, and Taffy got the impression that the demure newcomer, Sashrya by name, wasn't going to be causing any trouble for the group directly. She seemed nice enough, and Taffy felt automatically a little protective of her, though she couldn't quite put her finger onto why. Nevertheless, Taffy continued to lead the way, as the night's darkness seeped through the leaves of the thick canopy above them. A small worry at the back of her mind nagged at her that the group was making far too much noise and attracting too much attention, but there wasn't much she could do for the time being - at least, not without screaming "SHADDAP!" and that would just be counterproductive, so she grumbled to herself instead.

It did not take long for the group to arrive at a small clearing Taffy had run across before. A peculiar set of sculptures dominated the middle of this clearing, lit enough by the moon to cast long shadows across it from each sculpture. These vaguely humanoid statues were crafted by some unknown hand long ago out of a mix of metal scraps and woodwork, and were a bizarre enough landmark that Taffy knew where the group was exactly just by seeing them.

A chill ran down her spine, though; seeing the statues with their bizarre, almost meaningless poses in the dark made her feel a little on-edge despite herself. Some of them were posed like dancers, while others merely stood at attention or squatted in place. Some of the statues had tails, while others did not, further obscuring the original artist's possible identity as to whether they were Miran or Novan. A breeze whispered through the chinks in the framework of the sculptures, creating an eerie noise that whistled and moaned before it died down and left a silence almost as spooky as the noise had been. And in the night, with only flashlights to guide the way, it only added to the surreal quality of this strange landmark.

"We can take a quick break here," Taffy announced after walking up to the statues and turning around to face the group, her back to the statues and her own body partly covered by the shadow from one of them. "It isn't that far now, maybe another mile before we see-"

She was interrupted by the looks on the faces of the others as they tensed and looked slightly past her. At the same moment, she saw one shadow move around on the ground and heard movement behind her, and realized too late that one of these statues wasn't a statue! She whirled around, one arm lifted to guard herself while the other raised the flashlight she carried like an all-too-small club, and she found herself facing...


[System]
S e i k a t s u

Personal Dossier

---
生活 クモの巣

Age

Fifteen

Origin

Osaka, Osaka

Physical Description

Standing at a lanky 178 centimetres and weighing a measly 57 kilograms, Seikatsu is one to stand out, much to his dismay. His abnormally green, frazzled hair doesn't help him much, but he likes the color, and can't be assed to change it. Droopy eyes of pink give way to an assumption of tiredness, save for when he offers a curt smile and that drowsiness turns to contentedness. Features of note are his oddly large hands. While he doesn't dislike them, he certainly wishes they wouldn't attract such attention. Hard to wallow through life as a leaf when people constantly want to compare hand sizes with you.

Characterization

They say an object at rest stays at rest. Such is true for Seikatsu. He prefers not to move if he doesn't have to, claiming life will take him wherever it deems necessary he go. Call him an apathetic philosopher and you'll have pretty much summarized his entire personality. Seikatsu is, by all definitions of the word, boring. Bland is another good word of choice. He doesn't do much, and this has led him to have very few friends, and those he does have are self-proclaimed. While he doesn't dislike company, he does prefer to be alone, a preference which led him to move out on his own under special circumstances.

Not a heartless being, Seikatsu isn't against helping people, and will often lend a hand to those in need if it isn't too much trouble. Much like his father, he's also fascinated with the vast variety of quirks present in the world, though he finds it would be bothersome to confront people about their abilities. He's a curious bugger with the lack of enthusiasm to satiate said curiosity. He also happens to be a genius, but being the humble guy he is, he doesn't present that fact as anything particularly special about himself.

Personal History

Seikatsu grew up an only child, and was thus afforded most of anything he wanted, his father being a researcher that studied quirks, his mother a gardener. As a result of the lack of interaction training he'd have most likely gotten had he had siblings, he became a bit unsociable. Opting to stay inside and read books and play whatever video games were good enough to pique his interest, Seikatsu grew up to be quite the loner. His parents feared for what this would mean for his future, and tried to push him into socializing with others. His apathetic nature made making any real progress difficult, and the parents gave up their resolve. As long as he was happy, they concluded.

In school, Seikatsu was little less than a genius. While he found studies boring, his near perfect memory allowed him to nail material upon learning it a single time, and simply recall it whenever test time came around. Rather than bully him, students often came up to him asking for help with their classwork. These "why not" study sessions were the little socialization Seikatsu took part in, and are what led him to make the few self-proclaimed friends he has. Shortly after his 15th birthday, Seikatsu moved out, claiming to want to try living on his own for a while. He currently works as a library's assistant to make his living wages, though he of course still receives some money from his parents, albeit reluctantly.

You're probably wondering why such an apathetic person would want to become a hero. It's quite simple, really. When a flyer advertising enrollment for Ishin Academy smacked him dab in the face as he was walking home one day, he assumed life was telling him this was the path for him to take. Call him impulsive, but that's his reason. His parents also encouraged him a bit, seeing this as an opportunity for him to make some actual friends. Most hero schools were keen on promoting teamwork, which would force the apathetic boy out of his shell.

Character Development & Conceptualization

Over the course of the roleplay, I hope to take Seikatsu out of his comfort zone, putting him into situations that force him to demonstrate anything other than unfiltered apathy. I want to push him in the direction to where he can see someone as a true friend, and not just someone he tolerates because "why not".

Because of his impulsiveness, I'm also aiming to give him personal direction in life — setting goals for himself that aren't just actions taken because he believes it's where life is pointing him, but because they're things he genuinely wants to do.

In addition, I want to open his eyes about what it means to be a hero; that one can't simply be one because something or someone is telling them to. That there has to be a desire, a drive, to be one. A drive that, without, the path he's taken is a road to failure.
Abilities & Talents

---

Quirk Type

Emitter

Quirk Description

Seikatsu's quirk, Living Web, allows him to generate webbing from any orifice on his body. The speed with which the webbing is generated is dependent on his focus. The thread is also surprisingly durable, proving itself capable of withstanding the average karate chop. Blunted sharp objects may also have a hard time severing it. Seikatsu wears special shoes that are resistant to the stickiness of the webs, so as to not hinder himself if he were to ever cover the ground with it as a defensive strategy.

Other Talents & Attributes

As mentioned before, Seikatsu possesses genius level intellect, and is also quite the strategist. However, he's also a bit frail, having not bothered to train himself much physically. As a result, he relies more on being nimble, thanks to his slender, albeit tall, figure. He's capable of solving a Rubik's Cube in around 5 seconds. As a side note, and oddly enough, Seikatsu has a bit of a dislike for spiders, despite his quirk being related to them.

[User]
---

Sapporo, Japan
Ishin Academy, April 7th

---

Everybody's so Calm.

Daiki's tail was swaying behind him in a sort of nervous wagging. Its so strange to be the only one crying here. So many people were introducing and announcing themselves so causally. Like it was nothing for them to make it to this school, maybe they had better quirks than him. Which isn't out of the realm of possibility, no, its very much in the realm of possibility. His quirk is pretty much useless on its own. Daiki had to train and work harder than anybody here he guessed, he had to push himself to his limits, and beyond to even be considered, but is hard work paid off and that's why he's crying. Also the fact that there was so many cute people at this school already got his heart beating in a different manner.

People were introducing themselves like its the easiest thing in the world. While he was here crying like a loser. Some people were looking at him like the freak that he was, crying because he was so happy. How strange. What a weirdo. But when a boy asked if he was okay out of the blue, Daiki jumped in his seat for as he was wiping the last of his genuine tears from his eyes. Daiki's tail was standing up straight before it went back to a relaxed sway. His tears stopped falling.

"I am alright, don't let these tears fool you, I'm very happy." Daiki said with a beaming smile now. "I never actually thought I make it, y'know?" Daiki said earnestly. Which the boy should take in because he's not gonna hear much truths from this boy from this point on. "Your name was Rikuo, right?" Daiki asked their previous crying fit all but gone now except for his reddish eyes from said fit. "it's nice to meet you, I am Hanamura Daiki, but you can call me Daiki and any honorifics are fine with me." Daiki said casually. Daiki than smiled mischievously and decided to comment on their accent. "Are you Osakan, by the way? You have a cute accent."

[Assistant]
---

Sapporo, Japan
Ishin Academy, April 7th

---

Interacting With: @Scrub Mage@Inkarnate@liferusher@Altered Tundra@Sunbather

Chen had to hold back a chuckle at the tense attitude of Yoshiba, he could already tell what type of girl she was. All business, pushing to be the best of the best, probably wanted to go to UA but had to settle for Isshin. She absolutely refused to look at Chen, but her hair gave her away. She was paying full attention to the boy and he was going to make sure she kept doing so, maybe break through her stony exterior while he was at it. "I can use any honorific I want huh? Hmm... well then, I know what I'm going to call you from now on." His smug grin grew just a little wider as he leaned towards Yoshiba, hovering over Takara a little in doing so. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Yoshi-tan." Was it a little mean that he was trying to get a reaction out of someone he just met. Maybe a little bit. But it just wasn't healthy to be that tense on such an important day.

Which is perfectly embodied by the girl who just asked if the seat next to him was taken, looking like she was about to have a breakdown any second. "It's empty isn't it? As far as I'm concerned, that means you have the pleasure of sitting next to me." Chen winked as he said this, his natural charisma practically oozing off of him as he motioned for her to sit down. Another girl entered the auditorium as well, another first year was his guess. She introduced herself to everyone quite loudly, which was the only reason she had managed to catch his attention really, but what kept his attention was how stiff she was. She looked like a robot almost, her joints weren't moving at all. "Jeez, you guys really need to chill. It's like you're all showing up to your own execution and not one of the most prestigious academies around." He leaned back into his chair and sighed, showing how relaxed he was. "Come on, today is the beginning of our journey into becoming heroes! Put a smile on your face, you made it!" Chen announced to everyone in the room loudly, earning himself a few peculiar looks from older students.

"D-did you see this city already... It is quite big isn't it." Chen's attention swerved back to the girl who had just sat next to him. Oh right, she wanted to talk to him. Chen's smile went away for a second as he looked at the ceiling thoughtfully, was Sapporo really that big? Maybe she wasn't from a big city like he was, so he supposed it could be considered pretty big.

"Yeah, I guess it's pretty big. But you should see my hometown Tokyo, it makes Sapporo look like a place out in the sticks!" Chen's smile quickly came back as he laughed a little at the end of his statement. Someone else came to introduce himself, prompting Chen to introduce himself once again. "Adachi Chen. It's a pleasure to meet you and it's a pleasure to meet me." Truly Chen's arrogance knew no bounds.

[User]
Sapporo, Japan
Ishin Academy, April 7th

---

He was motionless; the train was not. Stepping off of the bullet train on this fine (if a bit chilly) day, was a boy of green hair, a look of disinterest plastered all over his face. The ride could've been shorter, but it could've also been longer. If anything, he'd only wished he hadn't placed himself next to someone that'd turn out to be so talkative. Seikatsu, or Katsu, as he so often calls himself (less syllables, less effort), wasn't one adverse to listening. It was rambling that he was adverse to. No complaints could be voiced. Perhaps life was preparing him for the long drawn out speech one can expect at entrance ceremonies.

His attendance to the academy was a bit of a weird circumstance. No one would suspect him of having any interest in being a hero, nor would he suspect it of himself. Even to this day, now that his first day at IA is about to begin, his sole reason for joining was because a flyer that smacked him dab in the face told him to. Truly a reason that any normal individual would laugh off as nonsense. If only it were.

If only it were.

The academy itself wasn't hard to find, despite how bustling the city of Sapporo was today. Directions were easy to follow when one had a map, and even more so when one actually does some research about where the school they'll be attending is located. The number of people Seikatsu spotted wandering about with no clue as to where to go filled him with a mix of amusement and disappointment. Already, some of Ishin's ranks were proving themselves to be unworthy of their placement. Not that he was much better. Doing things on a whim probably wasn't very hero-like, outside of matters pertaining to saving lives and stomping villainy.

The uniform was plain enough for his liking — he wouldn't stand out enough for it that he'd feel eyes following him as he made his way to the academy. The green mop on his head and his pink orbs were more likely to draw attention than anything else about his person.

It wouldn't be long before Seikatsu approached the illustrious establishment, every bit as adorned with fanciness as one might expect of the second most presitigious hero academy in Japan. He didn't care much for popularity and fame. He'd have just as soon attended any other academy had their respective fliers just so happened to have smacked him dab in the face. Ishin's was the one that did, though, and theirs was the academy he'd be attending.

Snaking through the various crowds that lined the many hallways of the school, Seikatsu made his way towards where the ceremony would be taking place. Separate sections were set up for each student year. The male could tell without even looking that the first years were already far too rambunctious for his liking. Almost all of those who'd arrived somehow seemed of the type that would approach someone on a whim to introduce themselves. He thought himself well to stand nearer the outer edges of their designated section, though not so far that he wasn't completely free of a crowd. Solitude attracts attention. Hopefully it wouldn't be long now, before their headmaster would grace the stage and plug their ears full of formalities.


[System]
the cast

---

* Laphicet Kyrielight, played by @Tenma Tendo
* Nyte, played by @Jade113
* Aro Danius, played by @LordofthePies
* Edric Van Nergan and Balsaam, played by @Riaxh
* Milo Sunwhistle, played by @Clever Hans
* Kisses (formerly Ashorn) Rattlebones, played by @NewShoesForever

the captain

---

by loish
HAIR COLOR: dark brown
EYE COLOR: dark brown
DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: a quick grin, an easy laugh
SCARS AND BIRTHMARKS: a scar over her left eye from a childhood escape from a jellyfish.

WHO ARE THEIR FRIENDS AND FAMILY? WHAT SORT OF PEOPLE DO THEY SURROUND THEMSELVES WITH?
Her parents both live peacefully on a little island where they lead a simple fishers' life, netting the skies for the fish that leap through the clouds. They're content with their folky life, unlike their daughter; Sunny surrounds herself instead with people she deems good at heart and adventurous, people she could trust without hesitation.

WHERE WERE THEY BORN? WHERE HAVE THEY LIVED SINCE THEN? WHERE IS HOME?
Sunny was born on the sky-island of Luvailmaer to a family that fished the sky for a living -- their cottage will always be home to her, but her addiction to adventure is too strong to stay. She makes a new little home wherever she happens to be, and she depends upon others' kindness for comfort.

WHERE DO THEY GO WHEN THEY'RE ANGRY?
In the throes of rage, Sunny will seek out a high place to scream -- the higher and more precarious the better.

WHAT IS THEIR BIGGEST FEAR? WHO HAVE THEY TOLD ABOUT IT? WHO WOULD THEY NEVER TELL?
She's afraid of the ocean -- the idea of being surrounded by water with no way to breathe is an unfamiliar and frightening concept. There is no one she wouldn't tell her fears, she doesn't mind if it's known.

DO THEY HAVE A SECRET?
Sunny was entrusted with a secret by a visiting Vagrant named Coyote, and is sworn to never tell a soul.

WHAT MAKES THEM LAUGH OUT LOUD?
Almost anything has the potential to make her giggle, but especially slapstick humor and bad puns.

HAVE THEY EVER BEEN IN LOVE?
Sunny has never been in love, and doesn't care to be. It's just not her thing.

DESCRIBE THE THINGS THAT WOULD BE HARD FOR THEM TO PART WITH.
Grandmother's astrolabe has its own leather pouch that Sunny had sewn herself; it's strapped to her back at all times, never to leave her person. It's made of white brass and is artfully designed. Coyote's earring dangles from her left ear; it's in the shape of a tiny pewter dragon.

LOOK DOWN AT THEIR FEET. DESCRIBE WHAT YOU SEE.
Simple sandals laced with twine and rough soles when it's warm – in cold weather, secondhand boots and socks as thick as they come.

WHEN THEY THINK OF THEIR CHILDHOOD KITCHEN, WHAT SMELL DO THEY ASSOCIATE WITH IT? WHY DOES IT RESONATE?
Baking honeycakes, which her father would always make on cold dreary mornings, to be devoured under a blanket with a warm mug of spiced milk.

DESCRIBE ONE STRONG MEMORY THAT HAS STUCK WITH THEM FROM CHILDHOOD.
Her grandmother would tell her the stories of the constellations, and how they point the way no matter where you are. She taught Sunny how to use the astrolabe, which she hasn't parted with since. Grandmother was a Vagrant who settled on Luvailmaer, and had rich histories to tell.

WHAT DO THEY WANT MOST OF ALL?
Sunny's life ambition is to find the Whistlehowl Star, discover its secrets, and most of all to become an even greater Legend than the star had ever been.

RIGHT NOW, IN THE FIRST MOMENT OF OUR STORY, WHAT IS THEIR BIGGEST PROBLEM?
At this moment, Sunny isn't quite sure where her next meal will come from, or if she'll find warm shelter before night falls. She has high hopes, though -- and hope has never failed her.

[User]
When the words came out of Laphicet's mouth, Aro immediately stopped walking. She turned to him, biting her lip. She didn't know how to explain what happened. She didn't even know if she wanted to. The Terror taking form was her fault, but it wasn't something she could control. Ever since it happened, Aro couldn't stop thinking about it. The Terror looked exactly like the Griffin that haunted her dreams. It was the exact one that destroyed everything she had ever known. Aro didn't know how to tell him. She took a deep breath, thinking of the words.

Aro whispered to him, not letting the old man or Nyte know about her not-so-secret secret. "A long time ago... A long time ago, I used to have a group I wandered with. We were in a forest, kind of like this one, but snowy. We... we didn't know we were in Griffin's territory. I was on watch, and I didn't see it. I didn't see it go to the camp and kill everyone. When I got back, it was... it was eating my mom. It looked at me, and was burned into my mind ever since. It's the only thing I really ever think about."

Aro looked away from Laphicet, ashamed. She was starting to cry, the memory pulling the tears from her eyes. She had just met Laphi, and he already knew what she had done. He had already seen her cry.

"That thing that took Sunny, it looks exactly like the Griffin that killed my family." Aro looked back to Laphicet, not bothering to wipe the tears running down her cheeks. "I have to fix this."

She turned back and continued to walk to where she figured the Griffin was. She walked with purpose, tears washing away the dirt on her face.

Tendo@Mokley

[Assistant]
"Admit it, you fell in by accident, and now we're lost."
"Nonsense. My mind's impeccable treasure sense led us, and the ruin's supposed to be around here somewhere. For all we know, these tunnels could be a part of it... Ouch!" Edric looked at the raven-like bird hovering on his shoulder accusingly, having been jabbed by a beak.
"Seems perfectly peckable to me." Balsaam admonished haughtily. Edric could barely make out his friend's pitch black feathers in the gloom of the cave, only the weight and sharp yellow eyes floating in the dark and told him he was there at all. "I don't see any forgotten treasure or ruins. This is just a damp, nasty cave that's making my feathers all dewy and we're only here because you can't see an inch in front of your nose in that silly hat." he grumbled. Edric clutched his wide-brimmed hat defensively, as if afraid it might get offended. He could feel the claws kneading his shoulder, letting him feel the weight of his partner's displeasure. Balsaam was always cranky underground. They both were, though Edric did his best to supress it, because who would respect a claustrophobic treasure hunter?
"Well we might as well take a look now." he said firmly. The bird could warble as much as he wanted. There was something to this cave, Edric could feel it. "Besides" he said, unable to resist a rebuttal. "where were you, my keen eyes in the sky? Off chatting up some forest songbird I bet, otherwise you could have warned me there was a bleeding crevice in all that foliage." He kept trudging through the darkness of the twisting tunnels, keeping one hand on the wet stony wall as he went, trusting in Balsaam's keen eyes to catch any threat to his footing despite what he'd just said, and ignoring the bird's squawks of indignation and insistence that he was a gentlebird who was above that sort of thing.

Their bickering was eventually cut short, as they noticed a soft glow ahead. It was an object. Impaled in the rough floor ahead of the them was an opulent sword, bathing the crude walls of the cave in a shimmering, mystical light. Edric approached enraptured. It was beautiful. Like every magic sword he'd ever imagined.
"Edric, this is..." Balsaam counselled hesitantly, but the man had already grasped it with both hands, and pulled. It came free of the ground with the sound of a clear bell, and Edric held it reverently. He could feel it thrumming with energy. He gave it a swing and it cleaved the air with the sound of a thunderclap, causing Balsaam to squawk and take off in alarm.
Yes, he thought, feeling a surge course through his arms as he held the weapon aloft. This is the power I need. With this I can finally- The weapon abruptly burst into flames, shocking him, and suddenly he heard the screams. The awful, familiar screams filling his head with their fear. The glowering, hot metal seared him, and in the bright, flickering blade he could see the shadows of other things burning. Houses. People. It was like he was there again. He could almost smell it. He cried out, hurling the sword away. The blaze flared once brightly, and then the cave plunged into darkness. Blinded, he fell to the ground, clutching himself as the screaming gradually subsided.

He lay there afterward for a moment, flinching when he felt something land beside him. It laid a comforting wing across his head, saying nothing. Eventually his eyes adjusted back to the gloom, and he made an effort to rise, not wanting to look weak in front of his partner. "We've come across some nasty traps in our time." he said shakily. "But that was..." He fell silent.
"I understand if you're a little shaken up after that" Balsaam crowed nervously. "But we've got to get moving now." Edric nodded, and the pair lapsed into uncomfortable silence as they started down the tunnel again "I could hear those screams." he eventually said hesitantly, "were they from..?"
"Yes"
He shook his head. "Then that was no trap. This place is unnatural. The longer we stay here, the more in danger we are."
"Then go fly ahead. Find us a way out."
The creature shook his head seriously. "I'd never find you again in the darkness." It was a valid point, but Edric thought his reluctance was probably founded on not wanting to leave him alone with more illusions. "I-" Balsaam stopped, tensing up. "Do you hear that?"
Edric did. It sounded like crying. A gentle sobbing being carried by the acoustics of the cavern. Moreover there was another light, softer and less eerie than the first, up ahead. He could make out some figures at its centre. "Another trap?" he whispered.
"Yes. Or other people stuck down here." he heard whispered in his ear. "Either way, we don't have much of a choice."
He was right, they couldn't get out the way they'd come in. He advanced cautiously, Balsaam huddled down on his shoulder, entering a much larger cavern. Disturbingly, Edric had seen no trace of the sword, as though it had never been there to begin with, though his scolded hands testified otherwise. What he could see was drawings, everywhere, covering the vast ceiling, though he kept his attention on the three figures in front of him as he neared them.

They were certainly a bizarre looking trio. "Um, is this illusion targeted at you, Bal? I've definitely never met..." he squinted. "A knight, a wildling and a cat-person."
"What?.. No! Besides, they don't feel like the sword did. My intuition tells me they're real."
He had no idea what such a motely bunch would be doing down here, but they didn't look very dangerous. Edric closed the rest of the distance and stepped into the circle of light that emanated from the group, his hands held up so as to try and not cause alarm. "Er, Hello there fellow spelunkers. My friend and I are kind of lost." he said uncertainly, taking in the two teary-eyed faces and inscrutable gaze of the knight. Aw hell. I'm no good with kids. he thought. "I don't suppose you folks know where we could find an exit?" he asked, without much hope.

[User]
The old man spun around immediately at the echo of another voice at the edge of the lantern-light -- and he held up the flame to get a better, squinting look at the big-hatted man and his strange birdlike companion. Instinctively he stepped to the side, shielding the young and timid Laphi from anything this new potential threat could conjure.

"An exit!" he huffed, his long beard waggling. His wild dark eyes gleamed in the light. "The very worst error you could make in these caves is to search for what you want -- because when you find it, you'll never know if it's real." He peered into Edric's eyes, and saw there a telltale gleam. "So you already know."

He looked up, above Edric's head, at a glinting in the distant darkness. Sunny's voice echoed on the walls, but her words were impossible to make out -- if it was her speaking at all.

The air was beginning to thicken with the faint musky smell of woodsmoke and copper. Somewhere, chains clinked. A woman sobbed. A metal door slammed shut with the click of a lock. The griffin screeched.

"I hate you," a faint, child's voice whispered all around.

The darkness thickened, encroached upon the edges of the light, pressed closer and darker as if it intended to swallow them all whole.

"Blast your nightmares," the old man breathed, watching around him carefully. The fears and horrors of those gathered were slowly manifesting, reverberating in the rough stone walls, trembling in the haunting mosaics of civilizations swallowed by dreams.

The cavern, long deprived, was hungry.

"Come, keep moving. The only way out is --" The old man strode forward, resolute on his bony legs, but skidded to a halt as his light revealed the iron gleam of a cage wall. He lifted the lantern, explored to each side -- but in the darkness they had been quietly imprisoned, a cage that had materialized around them while they had discussed the nature of nightmares.

The old man growled. "Which of you is responsible for this?" he demanded, accusing.

The cage walls slowly, silently moved inward -- trapped them, forced them to move closer together, threatened to eventually crush them between the bars. The darkness loomed just behind it, to snuff out their light and to suffocate them in its black nothingness.

"Destroy it, damn you!" the old man hollered, stumbling backward into Edric to avoid the encroaching iron bars.


[System]
Username: Fetzen
Race/Species: Skayleigh

Gender: Male

Age: 77

Career/Class: Ranger, Craftsman.

Weapons:
* The main item in his possession that one could consider something purposefully designed to be a weapon is an armor-piercing crossbow that once has been acquired from a fallen Andred warrior, though not by himself. It is some sort of family heirloom - its heavy use in past times can be seen on it, but its very well-kept and fully functional. A matter of fact that acts for An-Hasst is that he can use it much more efficiently than its original owner, due to his strength, size and halfway elfish tradition.
* A quiver of two types of bolts for his crossbow: The smaller fraction of them (10 pieces) is reinforced and up to very high quality standards. They have a chance to be reusable if one has the opportunity to collect them. The larger fraction (20 pieces) has been made by himself and consists of strong wood with tips made out of stone. They aren't as strong and usually shatter upon impact, but, given the proper environmental resources, can be replaced by him in the field.
* A pair of short blades that actually are bayonets to be attached to the front of the crossbow. However, in an emergency, they can be used as improvised standalone weapons.

Physical Description:
An-Hasst's appearance can roughly be classified into two different arenas, one for each of the two very different heritages of him. His hair is moderately long, very dense, soft and of a golden color as it is quite typical for wood elves. He ties it together, forming a queue that runs down his back. His eyes are blue-gray and unremarkable, yet his almost pale-grayish skin seems to lack any stain of combat action of other, natural imperfections. Some people consider him very attractive because of that. His nose is large and pointy, his lips usually form a thin line across his face, more often than not a rather grim looking one. An-Hasst's ears are where one approaches the big other part of him as they are less pointed than they would have to be for a real elf. The word 'big' is to be taken literally here: He is easily towering above men and elves alike with a height of seven feet four inches (2.24m). His body is lean with major blood vessels deforming his skin where the run closely beneath it. What dramatically helps this effect is the fact that he has grown up with very thick, sturdy bones and a lot of muscular bulk across his entire body. Even with his half-elf origins, he still weighs about 340 pounds (155 kg), though estimates not considering this could be noticeably higher.
His clothing departs from the woad elves' ways as he wears simplistic, gray-white wool clothing that doesn't cost much and with two parts that are held together only by a thin rope instead around his waist instead of a real girdle. It is not that uncommon to see him with bare feet, given that the road he's walking on isn't too dirty and in good condition. In other cases, he wraps his feet in leather.

Armor: An-Hasst refuses wearing metal-based armor. However, being a woodcutter with a great knowledge about forests, he was able to come up with an alternate solution. He has stitched small-sized scales carved out of ironwood onto a large leather coat with an underlying lining of cloth to serve both as a protection against cold weather and against blunt weapons. The thing runs down almost to his feet and is long-sleeved. If one looks more closely, one can discover that some of the wooden scales feature additional decorations and that these are arranged in a pattern across the back part that forms a large sigil - a symbol of his family. The construction isn't as effective as a real steel armor and it isn't much lighter either, but it doesn't obstruct his movement as much and repairs can be done more easily without requiring a forge.

Other equipment:
* Money: 18 Silver, 5 Copper.
* Mobile woodworking tools like a strong knife and a rather tiny axe.
* Foodstuff for three to four days (probably more for smaller people).

Mental Description/Personality: An-Hasst can probably be described best by saying that he is torn apart between the two realms he comes from: On one hand he demonstrates calmness for most of the time. On the other hand, when his mood really gets bad, the barrier around his elfish being breaks down and he transits into a much more rugged and violent attitude. This can happen rather suddenly and it requires knowing him for some time in order to see the indicators shadowing forth this transition. He more often than not apologizes afterwards, but havoc can already have been wreaked by then. It would not be the first time for him to get into trouble because of this and since he is easily recognizeable, one wouldn't be the first one to be more cautious about him. He is open-minded and tolerant by his wood-elfish nature, but the experience of constant, more or less subtle harassment and prejudices have made him at least wary and calculating as the people standing opposite of him.

He speaks Northern common and the native Skayleigh language. The latter fact allows him to understand significant bits of both the Wood Elves' language and the Giants' tongue, though speaking it himself is more difficult and more or less broken.

Goals: His family has the tradition of sending their children out onto a long voyage that, ideally, should take them across as large parts of the world as possible without diving too much into danger. It should serve as a way to broaden their knowledge, foster their ability to stand on their own and also learn something about possible enemies. There is no real time limit on it, the childs are free to come back whenever they think their journey is complete. It is clear that not coming back at all will cause unnecessary worries, and so far none in the familiy's line of ancestors is known to have pulled that off. However, An-Hasst is already known for taking the thing about 'too much danger' not too seriously... It happens that he is not only in Riverhope, but also willing on joining the party.

Background/History:
Today's Skayleigh are not born by a real giant mating a wood elf, or at least they normally aren't. They constitute their own nation with every member of it being half elf, half giant, and thereby being able to pass on the two different heritages fifty-fifty to their children even without a giant involved. The Ahal family is considered to be one of the more remarkable ones - not for being wealthy, but they were and are still earning their prestige with an outstanding tradition of woodcutting, making furnitures, bows and other things alike they are quite renowned for.

Their numbers have declined over the past centuries, several of its members were killed in the ongoing struggle against Andred. An-Hasst currently is the second-youngest member of the bloodline, his parents being Karal (father) and Fafae (mother). He has been sent on his long journey about four years ago, and, as tradition dictates, his first destination were the far northern mountain ridges where the Skayleigh's real giant ancestors live. It wasn't exactly delightful, but making such an experience likely is the real idea behind it. Since going to Andred has not been an option for a long time, he then headed east towards the Praelior peninsula, leaving the Kaelic region. Then he went for the Priemieval Forest where the wood elves live, the other nation where half of their original ancestors stem from.

One could think that someone who has travelled this far and even without major incident has to be very worldly and very experienced. An-Hasst isn't. The reason ? He would never tell his parents, but he is rather annoyed by this tradition of having to visit one more or less interesting, Skayleigh-antipathy infested part of the world after the other. That's why he is treating the entire thing more like a checklist with items on it one has to run through as efficiently as possible without looking too much to left or right. He speeded, only spending extended periods of time at locations he was really interested in like the giant's highlands of the far outskirts of the Dreadlands when he was a guest of the wood elves. He was clever enough not to venture any further into it than that though.

Riverhope essentially is his oversized, sophisticated base camp for visiting what few civilized places there are accessible for men like him. He first had to replenish his supplies not only of food and water, but especially on gold, silver and copper. For this purpose, he picked up a job as a kind of doorman for a local tavern. It could be this job that theoretically could have got him the invitation since it made many people see him and his remarkable appearance. However he isn't in the job anymore as he has certainly overdone it with a particularly refractory drunk guy that got, well, let's say quite a beating.

[User]
At the rear of the group, Alice saw the spectacle last. A massive creature draped in swamp debris which towered at the height of two men swung it's mighty arms fruitlessly at it's hissing foe, it's swamp vines whipping ineffectually through the air and sending horrible swamp water everywhere. The opponent in question was a Lizardman who spat curses and challenges in the direction of the monster, something about dinner. Each movement from the two of them trunched up great tides of mud, soaking them and causing blood from the two figures to drip freely along their damp hides and into the green murk. They both probably smelt as bad as they looked, and from the tired stand-off they had they'd obviously been at this a while with no clear winner.

"Aha!" Geradin, like any dwarf, was always quick with his hammer and started his comical high knee'd charge into the melee. "Our first foe!" The rest of the group was wisely hanging back, not knowing Lizardman ritual or (however strange the word seemed here) etiquette. The Dwarf cleric just didn't have the patience or sense as he splashed his way alone letting out his own Dwarven curses. Alice couldn't help but smile

"Well, we needed to make friends with them anyway!" Though she wasn't sure any of this was the best way to do that. Alice started pulling energies into a missile spell, aware that although the Lizardman may be averse to the arcane and help from any source, she wouldn't leave Geradin out to dry. And she definitely wasn't going to fight it in close combat. "I don't know what you people are going to do, but I'll try and help." she said to the rest of the party. With that she let loose, and a great purple bolt streaked towards the creature, promptly getting lost in it's portable foliage. She readied another one, and looked for a better opening.

@BCTheEntity @Fetzen @The ZAX

[Assistant]
Geradin let out a roar and pointed his hammer forward, invoking his God's favor to enchant his weapon with a bit of holy fire. A small light from the heavens poured down, invoking a small flame around his hammer's head. Both the monster and the Lizardman turned to regard the companions.

Beren backed up a few steps, unstrapping his Axe and Staff from his hip and back, holding the Axe in his right hand and his staff in his left. The tanned Warrior Monk suddenly charged, and sprang off the end of the soft earth to fly over the swamp water. He flung his Axe, the Badlr head swinging end over end before it hit the shoulder of the bog monster. The creature gave a rough cry of annoyance and pain. Just as it did, Beren hit the water. The swamp murk rose nearly to his waist, and he still had his staff to use. He waded forward to engaged. Geradin was just behind him, doing his best to traverse the swamp that was up to his burly chest.

Just as Beren had thrown his Axe and the action erupted, Calanon felt as if the consensus was aiding the Lizardman. He let fly his arrow, the missile slicing through the air to strike the beast on the cheek. It sank into the creature as if its flesh was halfway solid and halfway soft earth. It still felt pain from the way it screeched however, and it promptly turned to the companions, only to be hit by Alice's barrage and a bolt to the upper collar bone (or where one should be) by Ann-Hasst.

"He'ssssss mine!" The Lizardman cried, moving swiftly through the water toward the Bog creature. It roared and swung its huge ape-ish limb toward Beren. The Warrior Monk barely ducked in time.
Fated Fallen@BCTheEntity@Fetzen

[User]
An-Hasst heard Geradin's roar. Well... Could one ask for a stronger, less ambiguous indication that the fight against this beast was bein agreed to than this ? Probably not. The huge Skayleigh aimed with one eye and pulled the trigger. The sound of the crossbow's mechanism was much louder than that of the bolt travelling right into what, according to analogy, had to be the beast's clavicle.

The half-elf briefly considered two very different options. The first one: reload. The second one: Grab the two bayonets and assist Beren as the warrior monk had decided to go melee. Judging the effectiveness of the first bolt was only one part of the equation. The other was if his comrade would be better off if he joined him in the swamp. However, after having looked at the two blades for the first time since their journey had begun, he decided that they were too short to be really effective against this beast. Additionally one couldn't be sure how solid the ground below the opaque water was. An-Hasst was well aware of the fact that he put a not-so-lithe man's weight down on each of his feet.

The next bolt was nudged into the guiding depression along the crossbow's middle. It was one of higher quality, hopefully with considerably more penetration power. The Skayleigh aimed for the creature's breast. With it fighting both the lizardman and Beren, its head was a target he considered too difficult to hit from the distance.

An-Hasst didn't see the 'defensive' role Sett started to play, otherwise he, by now, would maybe have turned into En-Rage(d).


[System]
Age: 29
Gender: Female

Appearance: Kiyo is a youthful woman who is best described as being "almost beautiful"--if only she weren't so plain. Her features are steep and angular, as is typical of the Reijin family, and her skin is relatively pale – Kiyo looks as if she has been sheltered indoors for most of her life and looks physically weak, and while this is not incorrect she is more resilient than she looks. Kiyo has long, silver-grey hair that reaches down to her sternum in angel curls. Kiyo has a bit of a resting bitch face.

Hometown: Lifan

Personality: Kiyo is a seeker of power of all kinds, and does not adhere to a set of morals in the same sense as most people. While she believes that she is fundamentally good, she will not hesitate to perform unquestionably evil acts to further her own agenda. Kiyo likes to help people, but not at the expense of her own advancement – she comes first and foremost, but is a stalwart ally until such a point where remaining allies becomes detrimental to her own goals.

Thanks to her experiences in the war, Kiyo is particularly fascinated with the ending of life and what comes next, leading her to be fond of Ghost-type Natrelmon. She finds exorcism and the art of Gishiki equally interesting, however, and is not so much fascinated with obtaining eternal life as she is curious about the nature of death, about those who transcend it, and those who restore things to the natural order.

Relic Description: Kiyo manifests her relic as a book of portraiture. The Natrelmon she has captured are depicted in greyscale portraits, with the black being almost oily.

Starting Natrelmon:

Lotulia (M) [Level 15];
Zeruo (F) [Level 10];

Gifts: Telepathy; Advanced Knowledge

Starting Spell Schools: Frostweaving; Windspeaking; Shadebinding [Advanced Knowledge]

History:  Kiyo is the youngest child of the Reijin family, a noble house of the East centered in Lifan. Kiyo's growing up was relatively normal, and she was trained in the arts of war as most children of the prominent houses were in the time in which she was raised. The Reijin family were traditionalists of a most esoteric sort, keeping alive ancient customs that many found eccentric and anachronistic in the modern era. Kiyo grew up learning how to cultivate herbs and performing tea ceremonies alongside learning martial arts and the art of Frostweaving--something her family had historically practiced thanks to their worship of Seiryu, the Lord of the North. In the war, Kiyo eschewed the use of her family's magic in favour of Windspeaking, which afforded her the ability to weave in and out of combat to better use her Shadebinding magic. Though she still paid deference to Seiryu, and conducted her rituals in his name, she eschewed his magic knowing that it would not be as useful to her as that of Windspeaking.

During the war Kiyo became fascinated with the nature of death, wondering precisely what came afterwards in the wake of the lives she helped take and the lives she helped save. She underwent her rites as custom dictated, hoping to gain more experiences with the nature of death and to grow in power.

Professions: Mage; Herbalist

Herbalism - Rank IV - 2,600 EXP

Mage - Rank V

Gift(s): Innate Shadebinding; Telepathy

Noteworthy Skills: Many connections, notable magical prowess, competent at hand-to-hand combat, extremely knowledgeable in a great deal of esoteric subjects, especially those relating to ghosts/death and ritual magic.

Magic:

Windspeaking - Rank V - 109080

Rank I - Windborn Weapon
Rank II - With the Wind
Rank III - Soaring Gusts
Rank IV - Slashdance
Rank V - Vacuum Aura

Shadebinding - Rank IV - 54915

Rank I - ???
Rank II - ???
Rank III - ???
Rank IV - ???

Frostweaving - Rank I - 17473

Rank I - Frozen Sphere
Rank II - Frostburn

Necromancy - Rank I - 800

Rank I - ???

ITEMS:

17,000N

- 3 Rank F Relics

- Shared Herbs with Selim:

1 Lady's Mantle
9 Mistweaver
14 Wintergreen
6 Wardian Foxglove
15 Noxshrooms
10 Peak Root
5 Moonlit Pearl
1 Armic Plating (Psychic/Steel)
2 Gen Darts (Fighting/Dark)
2 Lotulia Blossom (Grass/Water)
3 Weddelbek Straw (Grass/Fighting)
5 Toranese Thistle
1 Blue Mist Flower

Shared Elixirs with Selim:

- 10 Elixir of Capture
- 2 Elixir of Draconic Spirit

Natrelmon:

Grandra (M) - Medium - 16731- 25
Zeruo (F) - Medium - 1000 - 10
Mythrael (M) - Slow - 37738 - 31
Tibearius (F) - Slow - 911 - 9
Kyumin (M) - Medium - 343 - 7

[User]
If Selim had the time for more conscious thought, it probably would have been filled with expletives for Windspeakers. Everyone in Atren knew about how annoying Windspeakers and physical barriers were as a general combination. The moment Kiyo's Wall was visible, Selim knew how his next few seconds would turn out. It was a classic, effective Windspeaker strategy that a Counterspell could have had the potential to preform what in essence was a combo break, but Selim was steady in his resolve.

The moment he felt the wind push him, it was confirmed. What was a bit unexpected was Kiyo's decision to essentially give chase for a follow on. However, Selim's initial plan with Soelbe was still executable. Kiyo was a quick caster, but Abjuration did have a series of advantages and disadvantages, one advantage being that spells that required motions with the hand could be chained easily with spells that did not. Selim countered the Windborn Weapon, essentially as his side impacted painfully against Kiyo's Wall with his own Wall, before whispering the short invocations for two spells: Blinding Radiance and Effulgent Burst. While blinded, the marked territory for Effulgent Burst would be slightly behind Kiyo, while Selim surged forward at her, his right arm poised to strike her, in a low recovery stance almost like a tackle, putting her directly between him and his spell.

If Kiyo's plan was to rely on the sensory perception of her Mythari, that would prove inadequate. Soelbe, who was still on a course to approach from behind Kiyo unleashed Indolu's Pride, which would narrow the visual range of the Mythari until it chose to go into the sphere, or outside the range of the Globe. The Globe of Ielle would trail along behind Soelbe at a much slower pace from the ghost's charge - if you could say ghosts could actually charge a physical being.

[Assistant]
Xander

"Ouch, hitting me right where it hurts I see." Xander laughed off her comment, running a hand through his silver-white locks as he let out a sigh. "Look, I'm trying to keep him in line but ever since he evolved, he can't seem to stop himself from picking fights with everyone and everything! Like, I've read that Mythari tend to be more bold and outgoing than Mythin, but I swear that Sei takes it to a whole new level."

At Mallory's mention of school, the Xanite waved her off with a 'bah' before taking a seat to enjoy the meal she'd brought him. He took a moment to give thanks to Both Seiryuu and Suzaku with a quick prayer before digging in with gusto, stopping every so often to cool his mouth.

"Ya know us-gahhothothot- us Xanite's don't have much need for that stuff. With as many Tamers and such that pass through the town looking for Natrelmon, as well as the local elders, I got all the learning I needed. Bet I can cast a spell just as good as anyone in your classes, if not better." Xander punctuated his statement by pointing a veggie at her with a rather cocky grin on his face. After he finished cleaning the bowl of every last drop of food, Xander stretched out on the ground next to Mallory, eyes closed as he let the warm food digest. When Mallory turned his question back on him, however, the boy became rather tense for a moment, but let it go with a breath as he picked himself up. "Ah, nothing much. . . except for getting 3 new partners today. Oh, Gosh, I'm such a dunce. lemme introduce you properly to my new partners."

Leaping up to his feet, Xander made his way over to the Grianos he had ridden in on, who was currently laying down with a grumpy glare directed at nowhere; though she quickly found a target for her gaze as her trainer came barreling over. "This big gal right here is Gigi. She's a bit of a grump right now, but I'm sure we'll be good friends before long. And those two over there are Buck and Lili" Xander pointed to his Bovent and Loutila, who were currently hanging out by a large fountain, relaxing and drinking water. "Buck seems to be pretty chill, though Lili's a bit more anxious. They seem to enjoy each other's company a fair bit though, so that's good. I literally just caught them all today, and with no fighting required! Though Gigi gave me a bit of a thrashing in trying to get her, the others were more chill, so all in all, I'd say that's a good omen for my first day of Rites."

"So," Xander asked after stretching out a bit, hissing in slight discomfort due to the bruises that still peppered his body. "Are you going to challenge the Arena Master yet? I thought about doing it right away, but decided to give it sometime, get a better team set-up and maybe even do some light training before I put my skills to the test, ya know? Hey, maybe we can even do a mock battle sometime soon!! I'm sure Sei is more than ready to show Gwisin that he isn't going to let something like type advantage scare him."

[User]
Kiyo was pleased for the briefest instant physically possible as she watched her plan unfold to completion, but beyond that she did not have the capacity to do very much at all. Selim's momentum had all been converted to force when he hit the wall--and Kiyo had seen him wince in pain--but he had proven his combatative nature when he immediately turned himself towards casting spells and executing a strategy he'd been building since the beginning of the battle. Had she the time, Kiyo would have thought of this as an admirable trait in a bodyguard--and certainly something better than what some of the Lifanites settled for in order to simply look good rather than be adequately protected. Kiyo's own momentum, as well as taxing spellcraft, left her with little in the way of options as to what she could do now. Selim's counterspell and utterance of two other spells--clearly Abjuration spells, given their verbal components--left Kiyo with little choice but to use another of her precious With the Wind spells, dashing herself diagonally to the northeast as soon as she could. The blind did still manage to hit her, its searing light barely clipping her field of vision but thanks to its magical potency still being quite enough to utterly blind her. The sudden loss of vision, no matter how many times it happened, was disorienting enough to make even the most battle-hardened stumble and stumble Kiyo did.

She fell pretty spectacularly, mentally taxed from the spellcasting, and through sheer force of habit managed to tuck herself into a roll forward so that her stumble didn't end in injury. As she finished the movement, going maybe six feet, the blind had ended, and much of her momentum had gone into the roll. It was little effort to turn herself around so that she was facing Selim once again, and as his movement would have carried him forward she would have a second to gulp down a breath and steady her focus. She had escaped the worst of his gambit, but it was clear to her that he had a physical advantage purely based on his ability to weather her own stratagem with minimal disruption to his own. Soelbe's gambit with Indolu's Pride was effective, of course, at robbing the Mythari of its sight as he was not within the light of Indolu, and with Kiyo's stumble she simply did not have the capacity to give it orders. The Mythari continued on its course upwards, now at least 12 feet in the air, and prepared to aid Kiyo when she recovered.

Kiyo knew that her time was limited to close out the battle. With Selim's natural advantage in close-quarters combat and her own limited reserve of spells, Kiyo would have to end the fight extremely quickly if she wanted to have a chance. With that in mind, she begun a cautious walk towards Selim once more, knowing that her window was closing, and prepared for him to react in kind. She could further evaluate which of the forming manoeuvres in her mind would be most appropriate based on how he reacted to their next engagement. Of course, Kiyo had not forgotten about Soelbe, but simply elected to attempt to execute her strategy before it could have a real impact on the battle. As she moved towards Selim she drew Mythari into the fray also, having it charge quickly towards him. Mythari would have to contend with Soelbe, but if Kiyo's plan worked then that would not matter. A risky gamble, for sure, but one that Kiyo was willing to take to prove her own strength and test Selim.