[System]
Race: Human

Personality: A stammering, stuttering mess of a man, Caractacus has trouble in dealing with the living. He is nervous and self-doubting in the utmost when around anything but the dead. Still, he doesn't harbor ill-will toward the living, more of a deep-seated fear and unease. Being around him creates a sense of unease, as though there was something sinister about him.

Background: Caractacus was always sickly and unwell, even in his youth. An early indicator of his affinity for the dead. He grew up with no friends, and even family took pains to avoid his presence. This had a profound effect on Caractacus, and drove him away from society, where he would meet his mentor, an impossibly old man, who taught him his connection with the dead, and how to utilize it. When he had taught Caractacus enough to get by, the old man sent him off. Caractacus attempted to re-enter society, but now more than ever his presence caused fear and distrust, and he was quickly driven away. Caractacus fled to seclusion. He spent his time there thinking on what his powers meant, and what his purpose was. After three years on his own, he came to a conclusion, and set out to make his purpose reality.

Abilities: Summon undead: Caractacus can summon two lesser undead creatures, such as skeletons or zombies, and command them for a period of 24 hours before they disintegrate. Note that these undead are not like those of the Lich king, but merely empty vessels animated by death magic.
Bolster undead: For a short period of time, Caractacus can increase the strength, speed, and dexterity of any undead creature under his control or allied to him.
False life: Using death magic, Caractacus can extend the life of any living creature through pain and wounds. This spell allows anything he casts it on to continue living past what would normally kill someone, but only so far, and all wounds sustained will have to be healed before the spell ends or the subject of the spell will still die.
Magic missile: A tool in nearly every wizard's arsenal, Caractacus produces a trio of magical darts, which he flings at his opponents. While not particularly powerful, they do not consume a lot of energy, and are easy to cast.
Equipment: Staff: A simple tool in the spellcaster's arsenal, this staff lets Caractacus focus his magical energy, to better cast spells.
Journal: A large journal, in which Caractacus constantly takes notes, in a language that seems rather foreign.
Wizard robe: This one is a dark gray. More to identify him as a wizard than anything else.
Dagger: A last resort. A simple, steel weapon.

[User]
Stealing furtive glances to the bar, Caractacus regretted not having any coin. His stomach grumbled with hunger, and his throat was parched from the long march to the tavern. He certainly couldn't play card games for money like the clown. Unless someone needed a pair of skeletons in the middle of the bar, he was out of luck. With a sigh, Caractacus took a seat at an empty table, and rested his staff against it.

Caractacus swung his gaze over the room, skating over the jester and his crowd, and latching onto an armored figure storming down the stairs. Could this be the knight he was to meet? He stared at the warrior as she took a table close to the staircase, across the living half of the room from him. Caractacus grabbed his staff, and stood. He slowly crossed the room and stopped, standing across the table from her. He spoke with his usual elocution and confidence.. "Uh...hi."

He stood there, letting the greeting stand in the air.

[Assistant]
Sam heard the clinking and clicking of the Knight's armor as she trotted down the stairs. The Wizard had already taken notice and approached the woman, which meant that this was a particularly good moment to butt in. With a wave of his hand, the jester shooed away the other customers. "Sorry, all, but the show will have to continue some other time. I have business to attend to."

As one last 'trick', Sam lined up the cards remaining on the table, end to end, and swept the small box he kept them in across the wood. Each card neatly slid into the box without having to be picked up manually, and the customers politely clapped before returning to their drinks. That should give them something to talk about for a couple days other than the horrifying stench.

Sam wandered to the bar, where the Knight and the Wizard were waiting. The Lizard would likely be coming to join them shortly as well.

"I assume you're the knight in charge of the Lich job. "

@NowIGiveUp

[User]
"Oh come now, 10 more coins are in it for you if you take me all the way to the tavern!"

The old cart driver sneered as he simply raised his hand in defiance. "Already told ya girly, I aint goin no closer to that swampy cloud o' death. End of the road here"

The figure reclining in the back, clad in a loose garment and headscarf, rose up, stretching as she hopped off the back of the cart, digging out a bag of coins, passing from one hand to another in a fluid transaction before passing into the possession of the cart's pilot.
"Very well, guess I can't schlep you any further." turning her back to the driver as her eyes pierced into the darkness of the night. The tavern was likely a good 13-mile trek through the mountains away still, so there was no time to waste, lest she be left behind.

She was hoping to leave earlier, and make it by night, but negotiating the terms of her transport across Ruritania, the arrival had come a bit later than desired. Tired, hungry, and only arriving just at the final hairs of time, only catching a glimpse as a Knight and her subordinates made their way to a lower level, followed by two other figures. The girl made haste to follow them, knowing this must be the Knight Morro Aramato from the flier.

"Selom!" She said loudly to the knight, her heavy Koraim accent becoming noticable as she spoke, "You are Morro Aramato, lo?" she asked, her eyes darking back and forth from the knight, to the wizard and the acrobat around her.

[Assistant]
Caractacus took two steps back from the table. He had only assumed this armored individual was his contact, and made neutral contact. Suddenly he found himself joined by two others. The jester, and another newcomer, a Koraim. Today truly was a day of oddities. Despite his wish to study the horned human closer, he was worried he may have set the both of them on a complete stranger who had nothing to do with the contract. Caractacus did not want to stick around if he turned out to be wrong in his initial assumption, and he may have caused offense to the sitting elf.

Still, he couldn't give up after a moment of doubt. He'd have to make an inquiry. "I'm uh, s-sorry, you are M-Morro Aramat-to, correct? I d-don't have the, aheh, wrong person, right?" A wave of regret washed over him after Caractacus spoke. Know that he was aware of it, he could feel he was making a poor impression. He took another step back in apprehension.

[User]
Morro was counting the cracks in the table when she heard the nervous greeting. She glanced up with a raised eye brow, to observe the person addressing her. Suffice to say, she wasn't pleased with what she saw. As a true warrior at heart, she had a certain... dislike of magicians, and she didn't intend to waste much time with this one. Probably begging for money. "Yes, I'm Knight Morro Aramato, messenger of the Three Nations. My time is precious, what do you want?" She spat out the word and glared up at the wizard.

While she was waiting for her answer, something caught her eye. Something big, and purple. Her gaze was drawn, and she blinked several times before she believed what she was seeing; a man, dressed in a white and purple jesters outfit, was moving her way. She should have slept for longer - was she hallucinating? In a backwater little tavern such as this... He had to be here for a purpose, and there was only one reason to come here if you weren't a local. Her suspicions, and hopes, were roused. Perhaps they wouldn't have to send troops into the mountain after all... And they were confirmed, as he asked about the Lich job. She doubted they would last long, but if people like these were interested, then surely others would be to. Her heart lifted, at least as much as a heart of iron could.

She was ready to answer when her attention was called on by another stranger. As much as she was happy about this, she regretted that she hadn't had time to have breakfast or fully wake up before dealing with a group of strangers. And they truly were a strange bunch, it seemed. She turned to the Koraim and found her eyes lingering on the horns, before she retook control of herself. Though she was good, she wasn't good enough to talk to three separate people all at once. She addressed them as one. "I assume you're all here about the Lich job?" She didn't wait for a response before beckoning at a large table in the corner of the room, and taking a seat there.

Kij'hara noticed the knight coming downstairs, but didn't move from her seat. She watched with keen eyes as the clown and the wizard descended on her, and scanned the Koraim that joined them. Were all these people truly interested in protecting the Three countries? What were their true motives, and were they all good? The table where the knight was sat was just in earshot, despite the already drunken shouts, but when she moved to the corner table it was well away from where Kij was sitting. With annoyance - she had been hoping to simply sit and listen - she twisted her way through the maze of fallen bar stools, broken tables and still intact seating to take a place at the table. She didn't say anything to the knight, but the elf registered no shock. Knight Aramato was good at hiding her emotions, Kij could already see that, but as she stared into the woman's eyes she could detect an underlying hate. She ignored it, for what did she care that this woman had something against her, and turned to see what the others were doing.

[Assistant] Masrith walked through the swamp land heading for a place he saw on a poster called "The Mountain Tavern". He held out a sheet of paper and looked down at it. It was the paper the info was written on. He had no actual idea what language it was in. Just that his eye patch aloud him to read it in his language. The entire idea of the situation was an uncomfortable thought in his mind. He was in a 'world' he knew nothing about. His 'world' was the underdark. A place in the depths of the world. On top of that, he was an Illithid...or to be more specific..an Ulitharid. His race was seen as vile and despicable creatures that should be avoided. He had no friends or allies ever since he was split up from his group during the ambush. He knew they were alive. They were powerful individuals that were also intelligent. They had each other. Masrith had no one. Without even a trace idea of where home was except below the earth, he had no generalization of directions. He looked down at the paper again. "Morro Aramato". His voice was deep and menacing and was the only physical trait that rivaled his stature. Maybe his eyes. They were pitch white after all. That name was one of the only two directives he could conceive. Find the tavern and find her. A quest to stop the curse was something they had in common. The only thing really. It didn't take long to find the tavern. He had seen the location in someone's mind a few days back and it was firmly planted in his memory. The tavern didn't look good. Masrith hesitated to approach. It looked like a place blooming with trouble... maybe. He didn't know. The above world was strange to him. He also was a muscular nine foot tall purple octopus thing. If that didn't stand out then nothing else probably would. Despite his hesitant thoughts he approached the tavern. It was logically his best option. The only clear way to obtain any kind of solid ground on the surface. He entered the tavern to see some heads turn at him immediately. Seeing a muscular nine foot tall purple octopus monster was sure to turn some heads after all. He approached the counter the tavern keeper was standing at and put the paper on the counter. He pointed to it and said one name out loud. "Morro Aramato?" His voice was equally disturbing as his stature. He made it quite evident he was looking for whoever Morro was. He was hoping for any kind of physical gesture to the person's location as he did not understand human language. A mental link might also cause a form of hostility and trouble was the last thing he was looking for.

[User]
Caractacus recoiled at the knight's rebuke. He took another step back, his free hand held out in surrender. "I'm h-here about the j-job. To fight th-the undead, yes?" After rifling through his robe a moment, Caractacus produced the notice he had found. "B-but if you do not wish my c-company, I underst-stand, and ap-p-pologize for wasting your time."

"I assume you're all here about the Lich job?" Morro addressed everyone at the table. She gestured towards a larger table, which Caractacus followed her to, stumbling over the strewn detritus of the tavern all the way. Choosing not to take a seat just yet, Caractacus stood near the table, hopefully not too close. Or too far. He didn't want to seem even more rude. He noted he was joined by the Slith from outside the bar. He hoped he didn't still seem like a coward. Maybe it'd be better if he sat down at the table?

Just as he sat down, Caractacus saw it. The Illithid. Nine feet tall, with a squid face, and eyes whiter than bone. Caractacus's eyes bulged, his stomach dropped through his feet, and his knuckles whitened with the force he gripped his staff. He stared as the Illithid approached the bar, and it practically shouted at the bartender, "Morro Aramato?" That did not bode well. He had heard tales from his master of the cruelty and destructive nature of the Illithid. If one was here, it could not be for a good reason. Maybe it worked for the lich!

Caractacus made a snap decision. He stood, and stepped away from the table. Bringing his staff to bear, Caractacus slammed it down onto the ground. Death magic swirled into the ground, and sought the nearest dead bodies. He was lucky he was under a half destroyed building. Two zombies punched and clawed their way through the floorboards and out of the ground. Caractacus pointed at the Illithid and shouted a command. "Illithid! Kill!"


[System]
Age (Magical Girl):
 15

Age (Before Magical Girl):
 22

Gender:
 Girl

Gender (Before Magical Girl):
 Girl

Appearance:
 Unlike many Magical Girls, her transformed body is no different physically than her normal body. She personally cannot understand how a simple clothes change into a school uniform is able to mask her identity so effectively.
 With light brown hair and eyes of a slightly darker shade, Violet stands at 5 foot 4 inches. (1.6 meters) Despite her slightly visible musculature from her above-average fitness, she is somewhat underweight at 105 pounds. (47.6 Kilograms)

[User]
"Don't you realize how dangerous that is! You could get hurt and I wouldn't know! You dummy!"

Alexander really wanted to say something to counter that, but for some reason he was having a hard time coming up with the words to say 'Dammit Lily, what the hell are you doing to me? I feel like crap.' So all he ended up doing was sighing, not even reacting, or even noticing when Lily drove into an alleyway that was almost too tight

"Don't ever do that again, Alex. Anyway, I saw the news, and there's monsters! Get ready!"

Alexander sighed again "Yeah, it's always something in this town."

---

They arrived at their destination not long after that, a museum strangely enough 'Really, a museum? Why would anyone bother attacking a museum? Don't tell me the people who work here actually managed to get something magical?' When they got off the bike, Alexander followed Lily up to the roof, and that's when they heard some horrible sound

"Let's try and get them by surprise this time,"

Alexander nodded "Fine with me." So he followed Lily as she crept very sneaky like. Part of Alexander wanted to roll his eyes, but another part was filled with a warm giddiness just looking at her 'Dammit Lily, what the hell are you doing to me?' Not long later they say it; some undead wack job with goons (some of which were fucking undead dinosaurs) flinging around magic spells 'Huh...maybe he was the magic thing the people here found. That'd be pretty ironic; the dead exhibit starting to kill people. Well regardless, he's not looking at us, so that makes this easy.' Alexander created a spiky ball shaped barrier and threw it at the head dead guy in charge. It was a nice throw, but one of his goons took the blow. Fortunately, Lily's follow up attack managed to get though, although it didn't take him out "so much for ending this right away." With stealth no longer an option, Alexander jumped down to the floor as the dead guy was monologing about...something, Alexander wasn't really paying attention.

That's when bones started floating out of the museum and the portals formed "Oh boy." And out of them came more mooks "Just...great. Yes, this is exactly what I need." He said with all the sarcasm he could muster. A sudden burst of inspiration hit him, and he grew a tail out of his left palm. He then made a spiky ball barrier on it's tip "Oh yeah...this will work." A smile grew on his face as he used his magic to boost his physical strength and started wailing on the mooks with his new weapon. Some of the magical girls already her started monologing about something back at him, and then one of them took a pretty nasty hit

"Kai!"

Alexander groaned "And once again, I'm relegated to medic duty." Alexander quickly leaped up to the roof where she was, but a dome shaped barrier around them, and began healing 'Why does it always have to be me?'

[Assistant]
@Ariamis
But that's forbidden love!

Valkyrie wasn't the sort who judged others based on their preferences. After all, it was not something that truly mattered. It was still rather jarring to hear to her, but it was not like she allowed Ronin to comprehend her current emotions aside from an ever-glowing shade of red appearing upon her face and the continued stuttering of her speech. She longed for love, but she never really had a clear definition of what that meant to her. Perhaps, in a way, Yury was correct. She was rather jealous of this "little girl".

Valkyrie would never admit it even to herself though.

"W-Well we have no time to lose then!"

Valkyrie carried the girl as quickly as she felt the other could handle. After all, the turbulence would cause issue to someone not used to moving as quickly as Valkyrie was used to.

If anything Valkyrie was just happy to have someone to talk to for the time being. It has been a while since she had much interaction with others. After all, she was rather standoffish in terms of outward expression, often leading others to believe that she was a lot more serious than she leads others to believe. And if what Ronin was saying was true, then at the very least she had someone she should be able to rely on when it comes to combat. While she was sure of her ability, protecting another was a completely different ballpark.

After all, she was not able to protect ____

Approaching the gate, Valkyrie was stopped by the voice of the two guards, ever vigilant.

"Valkyrie; I wish to travel to Penrose in search of someone, whom of which I have reason to suspect is in danger. This girl with me is under my protection as a traveling companion with the same goal," Valkyrie says, being curt and to the point with the guards(wo)men more so than even her previous tones and mannerisms, and her flushed face was replaced with its normal pale. Of course, while Valkyrie herself might not have ever served in the military, her father was a commander and she and the other kids in the steppe would often play soldiers together.

It was not common for a woman to want to play such aggressive games, but due to her previously tomboyish personality and slender figure, no one questioned her about it. Her father might not have enjoyed having a daughter who would skip her music lessons to play with the town boys, but he never did more than give her a scolding. He was never the same after her mother had died, but she could tell that he cared for her in his heart.

It was not the first time she had used the gate, and would likely not be the last. She understood that these girls were just doing their job, but they were often more of a nuisance than she would care to admit. However, without them, it was likely this place would not have such a level of standard, keeping unwanted "others" away. What tends to be annoying might be overlooked as an important and integral cog in a greater machine, and Valkyrie knew that. Hopefully it would go smoothly; after all, guards might have the same goal but might go about it in completely different ways. However, she felt if she simply told the girls the truth, there would not be too much of an issue with her actions.

Valkyrie simply waited in response, her weapon sheathed as to not appear like a threat. After all, peaceful posturing would do a lot more good in this situation than any aggression might. While Valkyrie was confident in her "quick draw" technique, it would be near suicidal to force the gates open in such a manner.

"I would wish to be granted access."

It was rare for Valkyrie to arrive at these gates. To begin with, her position tended towards passivity more than action. In her heart, she was a coward. Someone who would prefer to run than to engage in combat, only fighting if backed into a corner. She was not the sort to actively search for monsters to fight, but rather her kills were the result of her actions.

But even if she considered herself a coward

Even if in her heart, she hardly wished to fight.

There was one thing that caused her to press forward, despite these conflicting thoughts swirling around in her head. Beyond her cowardness, there existed a burning feeling in her chest that pressed against all others, like an inferno that consumed her down to the very last being.

Once Valkyrie decided in her heart to act, that deed has already been done!

[User]
... Fuck. Two of the phones of Shion's copies suddenly disappeared on her messenger, a bad sign even at the best of times. "*" had even been mid-message when she went dark. The most likely thing was that someone had killed them. She forwarded all the information she and her clones had gathered so far as well as the news of her copies being lost to Christine, feeling that doing so would be part of her job. She arrived at the location of "Endsinger" about the same time as three other girls who appeared out of nowhere. Shion quickly stopped moving several roofs away, behind where the three were starting from. She watched as the third turned into what could only be described as a mechanical angel.

"Any ideas who these scrubs are? Based on appearances I'd have to guess Beacon." Shion asked her Puchuu.

"They don't seem like normal Beacon, but I don't know who else uses teleports to get where they want to be."

Shion sighed as a motorbike-riding magical girl came to the scene as well. She just didn't have any luck, did she? "Well, looks like there's enough man-power here to handle this without me. Waste of my bloody time coming out here."


[System]
Race: Muran

Age: 20

Appearance:

Art done by Midorynn!

Magic: * Speed Magic - Ethan accelerates himself using air magic, running and striking much quicker than a normal fighter.
* Air Burst Magic - Releasing concentrated bursts of air magic, Ethan can knock away opponents, deflect attacks or launch himself to high places - the latter of which he rarely uses, poor landing strategies.

Gear:
* A bo staff, made of treated snakewood with small steel rings around the ends, both reinforcing and packing an extra punch with strikes.
* A small, wrist-mounted launcher which contains woven steel coils. Used to swing himself in conjunction with his magic for excellent maneuverability. More often than not ends up flying into something.

Brief history: From the tiny forest town of Kinsgrove, Ethan is a novice Magi and hapless explorer. He grew up enamored by guards, the concept of upholding the justice and maintaining the peace. Even at a young age he hurried along the brave men and women of Kinsgrove, and more often than not snuck along during patrols to see them in action. He would frequently be seen in town, wooden sword in hand, helping guards with their day-to-day activities. When he grew up he was determined to join them and help keep Kinsgrove and the surrounding lands peaceful and quiet for all of its residents.

Ethan would have his chance at playing peacekeeper, though not in the way he had hoped. In a regular training session with the town's resident Magi, an old man by the name of Cedric, members of the Church visited the town. Practicing magic was explicitly forbidden without license, this was known but kept quiet. For who was going to turn in a child and a beloved, long time citizen of their village? Though their first offense the Church made an extreme declaration: both Cedric and Ethan would be taken away and sentenced within one of the cities. In the blink of an eye Ethan's world changed and he found himself in a wholly new environment, the one person he knew carted off to a cell somewhere.

His fate would be a bit different. Instead of being locked up as a prisoner he would be changed into a Hunter for the Church. With very little formal training both in magic and swordplay he had a lot of work to do. When it became apparent they could not instruct him in any reasonable amount of time he was passed, declared a Hunter and relegated to simple jobs. Help to settle local disputes, clean up the city, and on a very rare occasion, actually accompany other Hunters to find a Magi. He preferred the menial tasks: dragging people into custody was never enjoyable and he never quite felt like he was dishing out justice. But he hadn't a choice, he was a Hunter now, and he'd do as the Church told him.

[User]
This was awful, completely not to plan. Cecil didn't mean any of it, he just wanted to defend himself but instead ended up looking like the bad guy. He never understood why people hated the fact that he was a Machina every single time, but that was how he learned to try and keep it low and not to have people knowing he was one. He was 'unnatural' compared to them, he wasn't supposed to exist in their world and he understood that; however, the main issue was he wanted to be a part of their world. He didn't want to be outcast to the realm of 'evil' because he was 'unnatural', he just wanted to understand them and to live in their world. He probably should had been more observant when he was coming out of the water, but that was pretty difficult when he couldn't see beyond the water's surface. For now though his goal was to get away from the beach as fast as possible, so he was going to keep on running.

He needed to get to the next settlement and according to his map it wasn't too far away. He recognised a few of the landmarks from the map and just had to make sure he was going to get there in good time. That boat was a terrible idea, it didn't even make it to the shore so what was the point in that? Such an inconvenient wave, that was, but it certainly wasn't natural so there was some suspicions to it. He didn't think someone purposely attacked it, plus how could they when you think about it. He was out in the middle of nowhere and something big smacked the ship completely off course. It was a pain, but maybe he was going to get lucky once he got to the settlement and cleaned himself up a bit. There was no way he would run in to anybody from the ship now, he was too fast for them to catch up to him.

Looking back to make sure nobody was following him, he saw no one. That was relieving, it seemed he had managed to avoid the wrath of those people. Looking back forward as he continued to run he thought he was in the clear, but sure enough there was some other obstacle in his way that he couldn't stop for. Before he could stop his feet from moving he had crashed in to a person no less, falling on top of them as he crashed to the ground. Where did he come from? Was he really travelling that fast? Letting out a groan he rolled off him, rubbing his head slowly before very quickly standing up. "Ah! S-Sorry! I thought…nobody would be out this far…" he spoke, feeling genuinely confused as to why there was somebody out in the middle of nowhere, "I was just…going to the town…"

[Assistant]
Oh Saints, oh Saints. They'd seen her, and now they'd come and grab her like they had her parents and that would be it. She'd never find her family, not when they figured out she was Magi and turned her over to the Hunters. Wyth would defend her, but there was another big cat like him and--

Was she okay?!

What kind of silly question....

Oh. The man thought Wyth was hurting her, maybe? Sometimes Murans were scared of him, because he was big and strong. But he'd never hurt her, not ever. Amuné slowly sat up. The man had put a bit of meat out -- probably for Wyth, but it would be the first real cooked food she'd had in far, far too long. And lucky her, someone crashed into the man and distracted him and everyone else.

Well. Almost everyone else. One of the men was still watching her, hand still on his weapon, and he addressed her too. She scooted away, not wanting to get close enough for him to hurt her. He talked nice, but that didn't mean anything. Only...he was a healer?

Like Mommy.

Tears stung the girl's eyes, and she quickly blinked them back. Healers didn't hurt people. And he offered her food, too, more than just the strip of meat. Maybe it would be okay to trust him, at least for a little. Long enough to get her cuts seen to and to eat a decent meal. She got to her feet and came over, still wary and tense but perhaps not quite so reluctant.

He was talkative. Healers did that a lot, so their patients wouldn't worry. Only it wasn't healercraft that scared her, it was people. She wasn't sure she liked the sound of this game. But he was helping, so she sort of owed him. It took a long time to find her voice and give her name. The only talking she'd done since running away was very quietly to Wyth, and once or twice when she prayed aloud instead of in her head. It felt strange, like trying to put on a new shoe, or maybe one that was too small.

Then it was her turn. But she couldn't think of anything worth asking. Names seemed inconsequential, when all she wanted to do was get something to eat and get away. Asking if she could trust them was just stupid. If he said no that was fine, but it was people that said yet that were the problem. She almost asked who'd taught him his craft, but just the thought was enough to make tears come again. Amuné sniffled, hoping it'd look like she was crying because she'd gotten hurt and some of the treatment stung, and not because she was upset.

Presentation of food was a big mark in the healer's favor, and Amuné managed just barely not to grab the rations from him. "Thank you," she whispered, sitting down next to Wyth to eat -- not the rations, which would last longer and so were stuffed in a pocket, but the strip of meat Wyth had picked up and very carefully not eaten himself. He presented it to her as a barn cat might present a dead bird to a favored person -- or a father cat to a kitten. She buried her face in his coarse fur for a moment, her free hand curling through to the smoother undercoat. Just for a moment to steady herself, then she remembered the people and quickly put her back to Wyth so that they couldn't sneak up on her. Not that she was paying them much mind. She was ravenous, and tore into her meal more like a wild animal than a polite little girl. It was gone far too quickly, but the weight of the travel rations in her pocket was a reassuring one, and she felt much less like her stomach was in danger of sticking to her spine. That made her much more inclined to be charitable, even though she was still afraid.

He was trying to help. He's a healer, like Mommy. ...I should be nicer. Even if I am going to steal flint from him and the others. But maybe I can make sure it isn't his.

Amuné got to her feet and made her way over to the man who'd helped her. She reached out a hand to tug at his sleeve, but noticed that it was dirty and now greasy too, and quickly wiped it on her shirt for lack of anywhere better. By then he'd seen her, and the weight of his grey eyes very nearly made her reconsider. "I-I..." Why hadn't she decided on what she wanted to say before going over?! "Who taught you?" The words tumbled out in a breathless rush with a strange hitch in the middle, but once she'd said them she couldn't take them back. She took a step back towards Wyth, face scrunching in some unhappy emotion. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

[User]
Ethan had felt a similar pain before; haphazardly flying from a rope swing with friends and trying to show off, only to flop into the water with an audible smack. The wind had been knocked out of him and he'd been seeing stars for several minutes afterwards. This was akin to that pain, only slightly worse. Wheezing when air finally filled his lungs again he sat up slowly, patting down himself to ensure nothing was broken or out of place.

Blue eyes settled on the strange boy and he smiled. "No harm no foul!" Ethan laughed, cutting himself short as a pain shot across his chest. Nothing was broken but there would definitely be bruises later. "What a coincidence, we're heading to town too!" The boy's appearance was unusual and it had felt like he'd run into a solid wall, not another person. Given the events of the day however he couldn't quite find it in himself to care right now; sinking ships, rogue waves, tigers roaming around and now this. It was just a strange day all around.

Taking a moment to get back to his feet, Ethan peeled a leaf from his cheek and dusted himself down. This wasn't going remotely as he had planned. Setting up camp when they were barely away from the shore already made his head spin, now they had two new arrivals - three if you counted the big cat; having even one tiger in the immediate area spelled danger for the people at the beach. What was he supposed to do? They needed to go to town and get help, and they likely needed a Hunter to vouch for their request of aid. Someone should go back and make sure the survivors were safe too and, if need be, protect it from wildlife. Yet in their group of now five people none were Hunters save himself, and he couldn't send a civilian off on a dangerous task.

"We really need to get moving." Saying that time was of the essence was an understatement. If they didn't get to town and back in time there was a likelihood that more survivors could die; knowing a tiger was nearby made matters worse. Ethan glanced at the girl in rags and smiled sympathetically, approaching her and lowering himself to her eye level. It wasn't that he didn't feel sympathetic - he wanted nothing more than to help her, but there was so much more to do right now.

"Uh... We're going into town soon, if you want to join us you can. We can see about getting you cleaned up if you'd like!" The girl - Amuné as he'd learned, needed much more than a simple wash. But little steps first, then they could figure out where her parents were. "And you're welcome to join us too! I uh... I don't know if we can help you at all, but it's safer to travel as a group, especially with all kinds of animals wandering around at night." He added, smiling awkwardly at the boy who had nearly flattened him. "No hard feelings, huh?"

Adelon's roads were generally safe during the day thanks in large part to regular patrols. All but the most remote settlements had soldiers nearby to ensure the security of travelers; small towns had their own guards that protected the immediate vicinity. At night though people withdrew into their homes, and with it animals became active once more. Ethan's blood chilled thinking of the survivors back at shore, wondering if it had been wise to gather all the able-bodied people for this job.


[System]
Age: 19

Gender: Female

Appearance: Onyx has black hair and green cat eyes. The skin of her entire body is covered in short, soft cheetah-patterned fur, except her wings and face. She is missing her left ear and has a scar on her left cheek from a fight she was in a while back. Her wings are like the wings of a brown hawk, and her wingspan is twice her arm span. She usually wears a shawl so that her wings are hidden unless she is flying.

Equipment: 3 or 4 small knives (and other tools), a pair of restored Twin Pistols, and a basic med-pack.

Physical Abilities: Flight, 6th sence(hunting/tracking), Speed & Agility, Stealth.

Background: Onyx's species, the Elissics, live in the mountains and old cities found there. They could be categorized as a frightening predator and enemy to all creatures, as they have barely any ability to distinguish one race of creature from another from the air, and there's barely any escape once they swoop down on their prey. They are not a particularly smart race, they can't understand old human language and can just barely manage to put back together the few relics they find from humans. They can only make crude weaponry, and are fairly simple with the other things they make as well. Their society is broken up into many nomadic tribes across the region, each having their own unique color of wings, and they have no unified head of power, so they will often fight with each other when the different tribes meet.

Onyx herself is a bit different from the others in her tribe… she likes to be alone, rather than hunting in a group, and will keep trying towards her goal until she figures out how to get there. Instead of trying to fly over the tallest mountain and tiring herself out, possibly even getting sick, she'll look for the shortest path around. She's better with strategy and quick moves than drawn-out fights and trying to compensate for a group. Because of this, she is sort of left out of everything, and she doesn't care because she doesn't want to have to feel like she can't say what's on her mind. She is often given solo missions that really don't make much difference around the tribe, and whenever she's not on a mission will fly in random patterns around the mountains, usually ending up at a large lake (or small sea) where she likes to fish using an old net she had found nearby the first time she had gone there. Onyx, just like the rest of the Elissics, doesn't worry much about the state of the world or how it got that way. They all live completely in the moment.

[User]
As Onyx stood at the top of the ridge, she calmed herself down by watching the few clouds in the sky float by on the wind. When Tarentek made it to the top of the ridge, she was going to say that she didn't care anymore, but he spoke before she could. Afraid of heights? But... Onyx looked at him for a moment, trying to think what he meant, and what she should say next. He compared it to my fear of water... Oh!

"I-I had no idea, I thought you had meant..." Onyx forced herself to look him in the eye. "I'm sorry. I misunderstood you." She bowed to him slightly, not getting up until he spoke again.

[Assistant]
"It's quite alright." Tarentek answered. Her embarrassment was a bit amusing, but it did make sure not to laugh. "Seeing a vast expanse of nothing, or...well, everything beneath me is more frightening than you could imagine. My people aren't made to fly like yours are. Though, if I am going to be heading out with an escort sometime in the next week, I might be forced to overcome it. I doubt they will be wanting to walk when they could fly me there in a fraction of the time."

Tarentek gave a chuckle. "Maybe we should help each other out? You take me out into the sky to help me get over my fear of heights, and I take you out to the sea to help you get over your fear of water."

[User] Onyx blanched at the mention of him trying to help her over her fear of water. She actually took a few steps away from him before she could stop herself, and she struggled for a while to make her response. "I- That-that..." She took a deep breath and said her thoughts as she let it out. "That is not possible for me. Not only would I probably be pushed to the point of fear that I might actually kill you, I might die too."

[Assistant]
"See, that is why you need to try and see if you can get over it. If you ever fall into the water, you will end up panicking. If no one is there to help you, then you'll drown. I wouldn't want you to get hurt over something preventable...or, well, I wouldn't want you to get hurt over anything, but especially not something preventable." Tarentek said, shrugging his shoulders as he stepped forward alongside her and waited for her to lead the way.

"Besides, I would be letting you torture me in the sky for most of the day, so it's not like it would be a one-sided event. That sea where you found me would actually be perfect for getting used to it. With how salty it is, I imagine you would be hard pressed to actually sink. Salt helps you float. You would be in no more danger swimming with me as I would be flying with you. I trust you in the sky, and I trust you could really help me with my problem. Do you trust me in the water?" He asked, his voice carrying a friendly tone.

[User]
He sounded friendly as he spoke, and even as Onyx heard the reasoning in his words, she was detached, lost in a fragment of a memory. I don't trust anyone, even myself, in the water. I don't know if that will ever change. As Onyx thought, she slowly realized that Tarentek was waiting for her to lead the way. Before she moved though, she spoke the only truth she knew at the moment, being careful of her wording. "I feel that I should be able to trust you. I saved you once, why would you allow me to come to danger?" As she spoke the words, she found that she was trying to convince herself even more than she had been trying to convince Tarentek.

Forcing the last traces of the memory and fear from her mind, Onyx started walking towards the building where she would receive her tasks for that day.

[Assistant]
The topic was obviously something that made Onyx nervous, but Tarentek maintained his calm composure as he walked alongside her. "Onyx, this isn't something I would force you to do, but I think it is something you would be glad you did in the long run. Not only would it have the practical effect of removing the danger of being near water, but it would let you conquer one of your own weaknesses. Imagine if you never had to fear the water again; that you could go fishing without the worry in the back of your mind of what could happen if you slipped at the wrong moment."

As the pair walked up to the building where Onyx would receive her tasks, Tarentek stopped a moment and lightly placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's your choice, Onyx, and whatever you choose, know that I only want to help."

[User] Onyx shook off Tarentek's hand. She wanted nothing more than to get away from this topic forever, although that didn't seem very likely. "I think it's simply a bridge I will have to cross when I get there. Do you want to come in with me, or wait there again?" She asked a little more quickly than she should have. Onyx softly cursed herself for her cowardice under her breath, and then an idea came to her, a stupid, reckless idea that she regretted the second she said it. "I promise, I will try at least once."

[Assistant]
Tarentek gave a genuine smile as he nodded to Onyx. "Thank you, and I promise I will keep you safe." He had given swimming lessons before, mostly to recruits who had never swam before, so he was certain she would come to no harm. Some of those recruits had been afraid of water as well, though not for the same reason as Onyx. In any case, since she had at least agreed to try, there was a chance she could recover.

Taking a few steps forward, Tarentek turned his head and looked back to Onyx. "And sure, I'll go in with you. What kind of tasks do you usually get, anyway? Is it always deliveries, or do you think we will be doing anything else? He asked.

[User]
Onyx nervously returned Tarentek's smile before answering him. "Well, there's no way to find out unless we go in." She walked into the building then, motioning for Tarentek to follow. It was a large building, at least from the outside. Inside, there were piles of packages, building materials, and barrels of sand in the main hallway, while the rooms that branched off of it were only slightly better.

"Each room is where people from the different groups would go to receive their duties. As I am yet to come of age, but I am no longer a child, I go to this room." Onyx said as she stopped next to the door to a room halfway down the hallway. Not hesitating a moment, she opened the door and neatly shoved Tarentek in ahead of her, greeting the Elissic in the room as she did so.

"Hello, Harp'la! I brought someone with me today, he'll be tagging along with me." Onyx spoke loudly, purposefully spooking the Elissic so as to keep her from reacting to the surprise of seeing Tarentek. Her trick worked. As Harp'la turned to return Onyx's greeting, her eyes simply registered her added surprise by widening, rather than her doing something that would have made one of the other Elissics worry about her, like screaming.

"Herald of Heillias! Onyx, what- why? Why is a..." Harp'la stumbled on her words for a moment before she was able to speak clearly again. "Why do you have an outsider with you?" She stepped towards Onyx, but was looking right at Tarentek. "What do you mean he'll be 'tagging along' with you? Is this the outsider that was in your father's report two nights ago?"

[Assistant]
Tarentek did not expect to be suddenly shoved into the room, but he managed to avoid making any loud noises before Onyx managed to speak up. He largely ignored the general surprise of the woman once she saw him. By this point, he was used to seeing that kind of reaction, so he simply reacted calmly and politely.

"Indeed I am. I am still recovering from my injuries, and I find that the exercise of walking around can be beneficial. As well, I would like to help out in whatever capacity I can while I am here. I do not like to accept a kindness without offering one in return. My name is Tarentek, a pleasure to meet you." Tarentek explained, keeping a proper, cordial tone.

[User]
Onyx sighed. Not everyone could be as kind as a merchant, and Harp'la was a fine example. "Yes Harp'la, this is weird for you. No need to get overly excited, yet." Onyx walked up to Harp'la and whispered in her ear for a moment, and showed her the new white mark on her palm. Harp'la's eyes widened, at first with confusion and then with surprise. Before Onyx could stop her Harp'la had her in an embrace, not like the symbol of a promise Onyx had done with Tarentek, but more as one between friends.

"Congratulations Onyx! Or should I call you Bri'nx now?" Harp'la spoke, laughter in her eyes. Onyx slowly shook her head and was about to speak when Harp'la asked a more serious question. "Who else have you told dear?"

Onyx stepped out of the embrace, and smiled at Harp'la. "You are the third Elissic to know. The first was a spirit of Olias, who told me, and I was the second to know." Onyx laughed a little. "I intend to tell my father some time today, possibly during my errands if they bring me close enough to him." A slight pause, and Onyx continued. "Which, I still need to receive my errands. That is mostly why I am here, Harp'la."

As Onyx had thought, the good news of her hearing that Onyx had found her path had completely changed Harp'la's demeanor. She no longer looked at Tarentek with anger or mistrust, only happiness. Now, because her first meeting with him is acquainted with a happy memory, she shouldn't ever be so towards him ever again. Harp'la snapped out of her stunned daze and rushed to a pile of packages in the back corner of the room. She took a few that were about the same size and handed them to Tarentek, going back to get a similar group and handing those to Onyx.

"Well, you got here at just the right time. Those are rations to be given to the scouting groups getting ready to leave at the top of the east mountain. Each Scout and Sentry gets one package, if there are any left just bring them back here, and if there are not enough tell the extras to wait for their own orders." Harp'la explained with laughter in her eyes.

Onyx answered her with a smile and a slight bow. "Understood Harp'la. Goodbye for now." Harp'la said good bye as well, and then Onyx left, motioning for Tarentek to follow her out of the building.

[Assistant]
Tarentek held the packages he was given close under his arm. He did not know what they contained, though he doubted they could be too important if Harp'la was willing to entrust them to an outsider, even while in the presence of Onyx. Even so, he would make sure to take care of them just the same. After Onyx started speaking to Harp'la, Tarentek stood by silently while they conversed. After yesterday, he had to remind himself that not all of the Elissics were as friendly as the merchants, or young adults. Most likely, he would be spending a lot of time silently listening as others spoke.

Tarentek mimicked Onyx's farewells as they left, then followed her out the building. Since he hadn't the faintest idea of where to go, he simply made conversation as he followed Onyx. "She seemed...well, she didn't yell at me, so she couldn't have disliked me too much." He said with a laugh. "So, I gather you told her about your experience last night? Will you be getting a new name or something, or will I always be able to call you Onyx?"

[User] Onyx smiled before answering. "Yea, I told her. I figured that if I introduced you to her along with some good news, she wouldn't react too badly." Onyx had to think for a moment about his next question. "Well, I'm not sure if you should be calling me Onyx now. Yes, once I come of age anyone who is younger than me or of a lower status than me, who isn't a friend or family, will call me by Bri'nx. Anyone who is of a higher status or is an elder, along with my friends and family, would still call me Onyx." Onyx paused a moment and looked at the horizon to the west, away from the sun. "As an Outsider I suppose no one really minds whether or not you follow this rule. Depending on how old you are you could call me either name, I'd answer to both."


[System]
I always leaned toward this image as a close reflection of how he looks in mortal form, though his hair is black rather than white.
Alias: Kar
Age: Upper 20's
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Class: Cleric/Dread Necromancer...(a conglomeration of various associated classes)

Appearance: Kartha appears as a young human male when taking on a more mortal form. This is, of course, more of a facade showing his much younger self during the early years before he became a deity. In this form, he has long flowing black hair as straight as a board with greyish skin. He is most often seen in studded leather armor with the studs being a mixture of adamantine and mithril. He carries a long sword at his side and often has a rather musketeer style half-cape or a leather long coat. His clothing is always a mixture of dark leathers, fitting his theme as a deity of the undead.

Personality:
Kartha is clever, intelligent, and masterful in both word and tactic. He is not often egocentric but will put others in their place when pushed. As a mortal, this can sometimes come through when his interests or goals are either contradicted or interrupted. He envisions himself as one with a glorious plan to spread the beauty and eternal serenity of death to all that lives. Quite befitting a dark creature of divinity.

Motivation:
Kartha has always possessed an interest in the philosophies of others and finds them challenging. He keeps himself entertained by seeking ways to manipulate those philosophies into a corrupted perspective. Nothing gives him more pleasure than to see a creature pure of heart find the truth of the grave.

History:
Kartha was born to...someone, not of the land within which he grew up. The truth of his origins was never discovered. He was an orphan in a small village serving as a farming source of a local Lord. Through this Lord, the village served the great Warlord Oriaki Shokugan. Oriaki was known well for his ruthless nature and tyrannical form of rule. As a young boy, Kartha often found himself exposed to the cruelties of the Shokugan warriors; samurai of the clan who served their warlord for riches and position.

On one fateful night, Kartha's village was raided and burned. The other orphans he called friends were murdered before his eyes. He fled and managed to secure safety within a local religious order. Here he would find safety as Oriaki was very superstitious and dared not harm any religious establishment. Kartha found himself filled with rage but managed to use the teachings of the elders to temper this rage with patience. In time, Kartha grew into a man of great power and wisdom.

Nearing adulthood, the elders of the sect began to fear Kartha and his abilities. They feared his intellect and ability to manipulate others. In their own fear, a great plot was set in motion to have Kartha eliminated. However, Kartha was already ahead of such concepts. He planned and proceeded with a ritual through which he summoned death itself. Upon Death's arrival, Kartha began to bargain. The result of this exchange ensured Kartha's immortality, under one condition.

Kartha was granted an Orb. Black and filled with the powers of death. If Kartha should be slain, his soul would meld into the orb and after a weeks time, he would be reincarnated. However, if the orb should ever be destroyed while Kartha lay within its confines, Death would claim his soul for eternity. Using the powers of this orb, Kartha survived the elder's attempt to kill him and began a campaign which, after a few years, resulted in the complete domination of his homeland.

The great Warlord Oriaki himself fell by Kartha's hands and became an undead servant, as did many of his warriors. Eventually, after many more years, Kartha's power grew to the point of divinity. He used his divine might to re-craft his world into a new domain where all that was dead became normal and all that was living became a pestilence. Some positions of good managed to remain within his domain; a chain of islands bearing a brood of ancient gold dragons persisted and warred against him to return the world to its former state. However, they have never earned more than a stalemate against his eternal armies.

Equipment:
- Adamantine and Mithril studded leather armor
- Masterwork Longsword
- A satchel of standard gear and supplies
- A pouch riddled with platinum, gold, and silver coins

Weakness:
Good-Aligned Spells: Holy spells of a good-aligned deity can cause him discomfort. A passing cleric or paladin is merely an annoyance as flies at dinner.
Good-Aligned Religious Establishments: Should the power of a deity's attention be directed toward him, this will cause quite a different reaction than a passing priest or paladin. In cases where they deity bears more rank than he, he will easily be driven back.
Unwavering Beliefs: Kartha truly believes that anyone can be convinced to see the truth of death, no matter their philosophies or perspectives. Failure to secure their...transition to this truth may cause him great aggravation.

Relationships:
Unknown

[User]
He could still hear the gentle voice of his mentor telling him it was time to go about his way. A promise that knowledge came with travel, and experience would become his teacher. Nephrus had argued that staying among the druid tribe was where he would learn what he needed. Still, the Firbolg had pressed the matter and with the realization that perhaps this may be the chance to find the person who had uprooted him Nephrus agreed. With his minimal things packed, the young druid departed the forest that had become his home, and he ventured on. Now, there was no telling where this path would lead, and by then the boy who had set the Mage's college ablaze and killed his own mother was long dead. No one sought him. No one even seemed to care. It was fine by him.

Eventually, his travels had brought him to the seaside port where he had boarded the ship with the exchange of a small handful of coin. It was hard to find someone you knew nothing about, but there were stories that lingered in quiet places. Those were the stories he hunted. It was those stories that had coaxed Oathbreaker onto the deck of the ship, a choice he would likely regret. A creature of land, it was unlikely that the Tiefling would be accustomed to the shift and sway of the sea any time soon.

With the ship listing restlessly, and a storm raging beyond his view, Nephrus sat cross legged on a small crate. While he attempted to focus on not retching up the small amount of food he had managed to get down, the weather only seemed to grow worse. The spear pointed tail flicked and twitched in his discomfort, a show that he was uncomfortable if ever there were one. Yet, the red skinned 'demon' managed to appear serene. Calm and controlled despite the turning of his stomach. In the bowels of the ship, there was no escape from the stench that assaulted his sensitive nose. Piss and the acidic stench of vomit do not aid in his own stomachs turning. Yet, the Tiefling continues to try and remain calm. Were the chances of an attack high? What would come for them here? Perhaps there was a chance he could survive the waters, but he had not yet mastered the more advanced Wild Shape. Nephrus was a bloody stick bobbing in the sea and he groaned meekly at the thought.

Somewhere over head, his keen pointed ears caught the sound of screams and the lang grip of his sickle bumped against a wall to keep him from sliding from his perch when the whole ship canted to one side. Others tumbled into the floor out of cots. Something had changed. Nephrus could feel it in the depth of his chest and fingers curled a little tighter around his weapon. Mismatched, liquid metal eyes turned towards the decking over head and he tracks the sound of rushing water before it spills into the room. Nephrus gathers his coat to him to make sure it did not get wet with unmentionable fluids and sea water. Heavy boots alert the druid and slowly, he rises to his feet, an attempt to prepare. For what? The Tiefling did not know, but to remain a sitting duck was a dangerous ploy. When light flashes beyond the opening, he's afforded a look at the owner of said boots.

An imposing figure cut in the blinding light though he does not engulf the opening into the room with his size. The armor is well made and the light glints off silver and blue studs. With strange eyes and silver pupils, the man seems almost ethereal. A ghost at best. But in the low light, he can see better than most, and the Druid knows better than to assume. It is the red head's quick gaze that makes him draw his graceful weapon across himself, holding it with both hands.
"Speak Carefully," He warned, accented voice fairly soft, "we know not who we speak with..." With that pointed tail switching anxiously, he continued to observe their newest guest.

[Assistant]
Card wasn't particularly used to the waves of the sea. Hell, this was his first time not on dry land. What seemed like a good idea, namely moving away from the last town he had set up his cons, was beginning to turn into a living nightmare. He was able to manage the more gentle waves before the storm, but the insane churning of the sea had forced Card's head into a bucket. He hadn't been this sick since he had tried what turned out to be rancid salmon some ten years prior.

Card lifted his head back to get some air, doing his best to try not to breath in the putrid fumes as his eyes watered. Card's gaze temporarily wandered over his strange company. He could almost hear his old mentor's advice in his ear, and found himself muttering it under his breath.
"Never try a con if there's no exit."
 Though, at this point, perhaps a dive into the raging seas and letting the waves take him to his watery grave.

The slamming open of the door caught the wizard by surprise. Standing in that doorframe was something he was certain wasn't real. He didn't recognize the man as part of the crew, and his armor appeared rather ornate for someone to travel among this crowd. And then, with a flash of lightning, the face changed... certainly a trick of the light. Or an illusion of some sort. It wasn't natural, it couldn't be.

Of course, it couldn't be a complete illusion. His fellow passengers seemed disturbed by the figure. Card's eyes darted between the boy and the tiefling again, before he too spoke in a weak and shaky voice. "He's right... always tales of strange spirits... on these sea-" He wasn't even able to finish his stunted speech before he had to thrust his head back in the bucket, heaving out little more than his own stomach acid.

[User]
The thunderous crashing of the waves against the ship hurl it with a wrenching tilt to one side almost as if to bring the great vessel to topple. Yet, as it tilts, another massive wave surges from the other direction and slams into the hull hurling it back into balance. Surges of water rush down the stairs once more coupled with the persistent torrential rain managing to pierce through the opening from the deck of the ship into the bowls of its lower levels. The water rushes between the boots of this man, this figurine in the dark, whose white flesh stands out as the very light of the thunder itself. His dark eyes glance around the room with his left leather gloved hand nestled in an idle position upon the hilt of his sword.

In the moments of observation by those within the room, he turns his head back toward the stair with the rising of screams and hollers. Men of the crew previously slumbering below per orders from their Captain are seen rushing past behind him and up the slick, water drenched stairs heading up to help with the challenges of the storm. The hull itself wretches as if coming apart against the crashing waters. The thick wood groans as if in pain; as if desiring an end to its own miserable torment. The man turns his head back upon hearing the words of those within the room. His lips remain stern and solid; narrowed with no emotional state to express.

"You may wish to obtain your valuables and quickly. More resides within the depths of this storm than mere wind and rain." He comments as if somehow aware of an unknowable threat to the vessel. Suddenly, another boom reaches through the air, but no flash is coupled with this resounding echo. A great crack is heard from above as if a tree has been harshly shattered. More screams and yells rise into the air as the crew calls out in fear and panic. 'Pirates off the aft! Man the guns!' A figure of authority cries out before a sudden explosion of wood rips through the hull of the very room in which the group is residing.

The figure of a man, previously seen as stern and formidable in the doorway, is thrown to the side from the explosion as the air is ridden with splinters and shrapnel from the blast. The assault had streaked straight through the hull of the ship through the room and beyond leaving a gaping hole in both walls. The torrential rain spears through the opening immediately after penetration by the assaulting cannon ball. The man in his fine armor and intimidating garb rests against the far wall, half delved in water with blood upon one side of his face. Despite this, he clambers quickly from his position in a tilting manner, grasping at a chain dangling from the ceiling with the remnants of a lamp now dimmed to darkness by the swift air of the attack and the water of the rain.

"Quickly!" He shouts toward the others in whatever state they may now reside after the attack. "We must get topside!"


[System]
Age: 25

Gender: Female

Equipment/Possessions:

One ceremonial sword, sharpened at a local blacksmith to be usable in combat, intricately designed with the crest of the Crawford family.

One necklace made of silver, holding a brilliant green gem at its center, kept around her neck at all times.

One lute, perfectly tuned and made of a beautifully varnished cedar.

Personality: Axley has had to make a very rough adjustment to her new life as a woman without means. She often finds it difficult to fit in with the people around her when she forgets that she is one of them now, as opposed to a member of the bourgeois who is used to looking down upon the peasants of the lower class. She doesn't take shit from others and tends to have an attitude with people who don't hold her respect. She has a fine eye for detail and a particularly fine ear for music from her upbringing, giving her great talent with both her voice and an instrument.

Though she is intuitive, Axley is not overly versed in the world around her, having grown up sheltered from it for quite some time. She is quick to anger, but not quick to violence, only carrying her blade for intimidation, and only protection as an absolute last resort. She shies away from conflict when she can, though does not step down to the catcalls of the men around her. She has a sarcastic, sassy streak that shows itself whenever she grows irritated with others, but once someone has proven themselves as trustworthy to her, she is a loyal friend that would always keep an eye out for them.

Axley loves fashion in spite of her limited income, and can often be seen in the merchant district, browsing the various silks and fabrics for sale in the wishes that one day she might be able to reclaim her fortune. She'll often try to set up her post near there so that she can look on the job; though she wishes to pinch some for herself, she lacks the skill set to be a thief and knows it. She keeps her nose clean of trouble, though the possibility of breaking the rules and seeking adventure has always allured her, even though she has not had the daring or the strength to take those chances.

Backstory/History: Axley was born to people of means, a wealthy merchant family in the affluent district of Ulfhednar. With a silver spoon in her mouth from birth, Axley grew up never knowing the trials of the lower class. She looked down upon them as her father had, calling them the 'pigs' of the Blessed Isle. She saw herself as entitled, a level above those without money, and quickly developed a superiority complex over those who were without. Having been tutored privately to read and write from a young age, Axley's own interests turned towards music once she had grown of age, and began taking lessons from private instructors to tune her ear to the world of sound around her. After all, were she to land a fetching husband in due time, she would need to showcase some sort of talent to win his affections. That's what her mother told her.

Until the age of twenty-three, Axley lived in comfort with her family, oblivious to the darkness dwelling just outside their pleasant abode. Her father, Eiric Crawford, hadn't acquired all his wealth quite so legitimately-it turned out he owed quite a few favors to the local crime syndicate, and they had grown tired and frustrated with his truancy on his 'donations' to their cause as of late. Eventually, it had all boiled over to a head. While the Crawford family slept one night, Axley awoke from her bed to find the scent of smoke clogging her nostrils. She opened the door to her room to see if something was wrong, only to find the lower floor ablaze, hungry flames consuming everything in reach. Her parents' master bedroom was already blocked off by the blaze, and she found herself desperately low on time to escape; the fire was already making its way up the stairs. Gathering what few possessions she could from the wall, including a family sword and her beloved lute, she tied her blanket to the window and clambered down, making the leap to the ground and running for her life as the fire went on to burn unabated until there was no more.

She didn't have the heart to look back on her destroyed home. The news had spread quickly enough; the charred corpses of her parents had been found, but Axley had been nowhere to be located. Whatever might have survived the blaze was most likely looted by the dawn. She was left with nothing; her fortune evaporated before her eyes, the few things she had managed to save from the tragic fire all she had to her name beyond a little jade.

She knew not what caused the fire, but couldn't bear to face the common folk of Ulfhednar, especially given the reputation she knew her family had with the lower class. Instead, she decided to start life anew. Using what money she had left, she purchased a ticket on a ship traveling south across the river, eventually finding her way to the Imperial Ruins. Nobody recognized her there; she managed to find herself a cheap building on rent on the outskirts of the city, and quickly weaved her way into life there as a traveling bard, wandering the streets and bars singing her hauntingly alluring tunes, now twinged with sadness as hints of her former life leaked out in her voice and lyrics while she played for what coin the folk she used to mock would spare her.

[User]
丂刀のW 丂ｱﾑ尺尺のW

It was going to be an interesting day...

Cilla would not trust this man, in fact most people wouldn't. He could already feel like the breeze had shifted. The wheels of destiny were turning and the world itself would turn on the ex priest. He abandoned his order. The dragons had no obligation to look after this meek little traitor, so of course he was just as vulnerable to bad news as anyone.

Still... Sparrow would not treat this man any differently. He had seen evil. This man was not evil. "Please. Come in. I'll prepare us some tea." He smiled at Cilla happily. He wanted to make sure his friend was no too perturbed. He always showed that face, closed eyes, soft almost fatherly grin through white teeth.

'All will be well.'

A truly maddening sentiment.

He got out of the man's to invite him inside. "I appreciate the friend, though I must correct you on the title. I'm not with the order. They kicked me out when my hair grew too long." He joked. "It looked so nice, I didn't have the heart to cut it down."

He then heard the songbird voice of the woman he had mistakenly stood up. She seemed to come to his aid and defense, much to the glee in his heart. His smile faltered as a hand went to his head, a slight lingering on his brow. "Oh dear. I apologize Axley, no I didn't forget but I was very much delayed." He bowed to her, hands in front, a fist into an open palm fingers pointing upwards. "Please, forgive me. We will leave as soon as I hear what this gentleman has to say."

And the man did not take his invitation instead, offering him the bad news. This was enough to make Snow's smile fade completely. A pause uttered through as adrenaline seized Snow's heart, making his chest tighten. Barrister Fergus was a messenger though. It wasn't his decision or his desire... atleast from what was stated. "Oh... Oh dear." The ex-monk tiled his eyes down for a moment as he attempted to come up with some kind of solution. "A day..." He repeated. It was impossible... he couldn't prepare anything within a day... it was near noon already. "I- I sincerely wish I had received this news earlier." He closed his eyes, muttering a small prayer to himself before he centered, trying to atleast come up with a way, any way he could rectify this.

The ex monk stood with arms at his side. "Very well." He said agreeing to the writ. He looked up though, his eyes stoic, but pleading.
 "Master Mac Teague. I have two pregnant girls, four injured men, three infirm, and nine children. I do not wish you to bring the Dark Helms to my door step, but I will need to find somewhere for these people to stay. If you could give me more time, three days is all I ask. Three, and we will leave without any trouble." He bowed his head to him. "Please, Good Sir. I can even bargain myself if need be as payment. I beg of you to ask your masters for just some time." He was a man who forgone pride if it meant ease for others.

[Assistant]
Cilla looks at the former monk and says, "I know of a place that is about a ten minute walk from here." She pauses for a moment then continues, "It is not safe there, even the stray dogs stay out of the area." From Cilla, this is about as bad of a recommendation as she can give a place. She looks at the barrister, "Do you think you can get a wagon and some guards to help us clear the building?"

She goes on to describe what was a warehouse with doors that could be latched. Bad things had happened there to some of the street girls and some of them were left beaten and broken. She closes her eyes as she talks about the horrible things that happen in that area, ignored by the guard at night.she closed her hand as if she was holding a knife. She pauses again the anger showing in her body. She was not a knife fighter, she like her dogs was more use to tooth and claw.

[User]
Sometimes, Axley couldn't believe the cordiality and patience of the man called Snow Sparrow. Lawyers generally tended to never be good news in the Imperial Ruins, and the bard had a bad feeling about this encounter. Inviting the man in for tea was likely not the best course of action, but Axley was really in no position to fight. Violence against someone in the legal business would go over extremely poorly...not that she was much of a fighter anyways. She knew enough to swing a blade and defend herself, but her ceremonial sword was mostly for intimidation...she wasn't entirely sure how the thing hadn't broken in the few scraps she'd had since she struck out on her own.

More importantly, Axley knew the moment the news was delivered that her plans for the day were ruined. Not that she was mad at Sparrow...no, she had a much more pointed target of her outrage. "You have got to be kidding me. You're joking, right?" To forcefully evict a a pillar of the community, and a church no less, was bad enough, but to give him a day...? Did the people ordering this goon around have any sense of labor and time? There was no world in which even a group of Solars could vacate the premises safely over the course of a day, even if one did not sleep and used the night as well. She knew she couldn't fight the writ itself; perhaps if she still had the status of her bloodline to back her up, she might, but with her family dead, her money liquidated, and her lineage all but forgotten, there was precious little she could do here but be indignant.

"So this is how the rich treat the less privileged, got it." Was this how her father was as well? She'd kept mostly out of business affairs, focusing instead on being a proper daughter of a Crawford. If that was the case...maybe it was no wonder he had made enemies. Still. That was then, and this was now. Axley stood with a hand on her hip, the burning glare in her eyes more than enough to melt straight through any with a faint heart. "Well, you can tell whatever idiot decided to make this writ that a day isn't sufficient time to evacuate an entire block of underprivileged folk out. Hell, three days wouldn't be enough." Axley was choosing her words carefully despite her anger. The last thing she needed was for her words to be seen as a threat and legal action be tossed her way. She took a breath before she continued to speak.

"So here's how this works. Either you give us more time to find a safe place for all these people and a proper place for Sparrow to continue his work...or you can turn around and prosecute the fool who ordered this for murder when they have to slaughter us for merely being mortal. Sure that'll look fantastic for them." It was a bad enough situation for Axley, Sparrow, and everyone here. Surely anyone with a sense of decency would understand that people couldn't up and move an entire homeless shelter in a day.


[System]
Age: 15

Gender: Male

Class: Dark Cleric

Appearance: Rian's height (5'2/1.58m) and weight (110lb./49kg) don't do much to help his feminine looks, given he's rather petite in stature. Still, though Rian's features are soft, his mannerisms tell a similar yet different story; there is plenty of steel holding up the pretty exterior.

History: Suffice to say, but Rian's life prior to attending AcadeMMO was fairly mundane. They were fortunate enough to live in an area free of most ExBeast attacks and thus knew peace and simplicity in their lives. He was an only child, and began to exhibit signs of potential rather early on. Given that the school did not accept applicants until they were 14, it was up to his two parents to figure out how to deal with their gifted child.

Thankfully his powers were fairly tame, and a bit of research revealed he would likely be classified as a Cleric. To that, a collective sigh of relief was breathed for the Li household. While fascinated by his powers, Rian didn't really want to burn their house down or hurt anyone, being the rather well-behaved child he was. He also loved his parents, and took what they had told him rather seriously given they were treating him not just as a child, but as someone who'd one day hold a great deal of responsibility.

And eventually he was taken in by AcadeMMO on his 14th birthday. Things sort of went downhill from here though he endured it without complaint. Given his appearance and Class, it was sort of inevitable that bullies would naturally home onto Rian. Rather than give them any satisfaction though, he simply poured himself into his studies and training; intent on proving himself with actual results rather than empty words and actions.

And so he did. While he didn't gain too much popularity with the other students during Special Assignments, he was practically loved by the more conventional military forces. With his abilities debilitating ExBeasts, their previously useless weaponry were back in use and capable of felling the monsters. Of course there were some that disliked the fact that they needed a Magi to do something, but many more simply liked being able to contribute to the battle once more.

Thus the first year at AcadeMMO has passed, and Rian currently sits at a probationary D-Rank. He needs a few more Special Assignments to actually achieve the ranking, and he looks forward to them.

Statistics:
Level - 1
* HP - 2 (20)
* MP - 12 (110)
* Attack - 0
* Magic - 30
* Speed - 22
* Accuracy - 15
* Defense - 0
* Evasion - 20
* Resistance - 0

Spells/Skills
Frailty [2] - 65m (Level X Magic), 6.5 min (Level X 0.1 Magic), Two Targets (Level) Non-Elemental
Visually a dark aura envelops the target(s), though it does not obscure the victim(s) from sight or any other means of detection. Decreases targeted stats by a total of 33 [0.5 X (Level X Magic)], divided by # of targets. Resistance, after reductions, is half effective against total stat decrease.
"Weakness revealed, vulnerabilities exposed, Frailty."
Rise Up [1]- 30m (Level X Magic), 6.5 min (Level X 0.2 Magic), One Target, Non-Elemental
Bathes a single target with green light. Recovers 16 HP (Level X 0.5 Magic) and grants a 11 (Level X 0.3 Magic) point buff to a targeted stat. Alternatively, the spell can heal for 25 HP (Level X 0.75 Magic) with no buff applied.
"Stand strong, fight on, Rise Up!"

[User]
"It's time for a showdown.", Joe smirked. Looking around he discerned two types of enemies. A sort of bush/plant type where one had needles and where one didn't and this smaller, quicker looking plant type. "I see three types. Including the summon we're with six, it's best if we split up in groups of three. Each one of us attacking a different type of enemy. Summon boy and his ex-beast would count as one team, leaving four of us.", he suggested. "It's best if I don't fight needles since I don't use a weapon and I'll get cut with every hit.", he got himself in position. All of them were kind of deceptive, sometimes he would lose track of them just to appear back in their vision when they moved slightly.

Looking at the first bush close to him that moved slightly he would just simply jump in the air and perform a downwards aerial attack. Attempting to hurt it with combos of powerful strikes before it even was able to get into a human form. Giving him the advantage of the first few strikes without the bush being able to do much about it.

[Assistant] As the forest around them sprung to life Hazel raised her sword. She heard Joe's plan, but she didn't pay it any heed "Who cares, these guys are pipsqueaks, let's just cut them up!" She charged straight for the creature covered in needles, sword raised. As she met it she began to slash quickly, hoping to whack the plant to pieces.

[User]
Soka saw as the surroundings began to move. Well, I guess we found out what was moving in the bushes earlier. Soka and a creature exchanged glances.

Soka: Hi....

Vine Blight: ...

The Vine Blight sent a vine like a whip toward Soka.

"Whoa!" Soka exclaimed, jumping to the right to avoid the vertical attack. The attack grazed his left shoulder. After getting his footing again, he stared in surprise at the nature-based creature.

"You don't seem too bad," Soka said aloud. "At least you're not a dinosaur."

Soka stayed in a ready position, waiting for any sign of another attack so that he could evade it again.

....

Soka thought the Vine Blight was about to make a move again, when suddenly a burning pain splashed against his back. Turning, he saw three more of the monsters baring down on him. Two Vine Blights and a Needle Blight.

His back burning in pain, Soka clenched a fist. The metal that was stored in his sword case oozed in liquid form toward Soka's hand.

"You really shouldn't have done that."

[Assistant]
"Nice to meet you, Haruka-chan."

She was greeted with a friendly nod of the head after she had finished. Ryouta looked at the board contemplatively foR a moment, he seemed deep in thought then after a awhile he turned back to the group.

"Give me a minute to get my equipment."

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It was a brisk walk from the assignments area to the armory, placed conveniently for students who were in a hurry to participate in missions. When Ryouta returned he was in a new outfit, one that was ready for combat. He wore a bullet proof vest of dull-grey and matching trousers softly glowing neon blue stripes that interlocked at the sides, imbedded with mana circuits - these were made for the spell using population of the academy. He also wore a visor that displayed holographic Imagery in front of his right eye, alongside a matching glove on his right hand, pressumably his sword wielding hand. His sword still sat by his hip as usual, it's elegance a stark contrast to the rest of his appearance.

Making his way to the Launch pad where Haruka was waiting, he tapped the screen of his watch, it seems he has found more and more uses foR it these days. A file titled "Rooster's Crow .mp3" appeared and he began downloading it immediately.

Now all they had to do was wait foR everyone to gather and he (or someone) would input the coordinates into the console.

[User]
Joe vs Twig BlightAs the Striker came down on the transforming Exbeast, its shrubby body had half warped into a humanoid form. His first attack came down hard, slamming it to the earth with a crackle; its body, though changed by magic, still held the natural properties of wood. Like a stick cracked across one's knee, Joe's attack had broken pieces of its body. However, the creature's skinny form and small size made it much faster and more agile than its attacker, and with a howl like wind whistling through trees it clawed at the ground to scramble away from his combo. When its legs had fully formed it jumped to its feet, and now at full speed darted back at Joe. Its claws raked across his chest, though with his own reactions it was only a glancing blow that failed to draw blood. The Exbeast kept up the attack, once more trying to claw him with sharpened woody fingers...

Hazel vs Needle BlightAgainst Hazel's sheer speed and power the Needle Blight was caught off guard, and though it raised its thorny forearms to try and block, her sword came down with a sharp crack. The creature squealed as its arms dropped to the forest floor like so much firewood; whereas Joe's attack was blunt in nature, Hazel's was a cutting force, and thus more effective against these plant like creatures.

[Discovery: Blights suffer extra damage from cutting attacks!]

Falling backwards, the Needle Blight scrambled backwards while shrieking at its comrades, no doubt searching for help. In addition, it raised the stumps of its arms and fired a hail of softly glowing needles at Hazel, the projectiles moving equally as fast as she had before...

[Needle Blight used Needle Spray!]

Soka vs 2 Vine Blights and Needle BlightOne of the Vine Blights simply lashed out like twin whips with its arms, attempting to strike Soka's arms and legs. The other, gurgling some odd sound that might have passed for a language, sent its lower body's tendrils into the ground. A few moments later, new vines pulsing with a green magic, erupted from the earth beneath Soka's feet and began to wrap around his legs. Try as he might, he couldn't pull free!

[Vine Blight used Entangle! Soka's Speed drops by 10!]

The Needle Blight raised both hands with a laugh that sounded like a dead tree limb cracking under a strong wind. Its arms were just beginning to glow when Hayato darted in from the side, mimicking Hazel with both arms brought far back, as if he were swinging a baseball bat instead of a sword. Just as the Needle Blight noticed him, he planted one foot and torqued his hips for all the power he could muster. At the same time his sword flashed black and blue.

"Flash Blade!"

The Needle Blight tried to step back, but in an arc of light one leg was severed entirely from its body, the limb flying end over end before collapsing to the ground, spurting some kind of sap.

"They cut easy! If you have any magic or Skills that do that, go for it!" Hayato shouted, moving in on the downed enemy...

[Assistant]
"Really? They cut easy? Oh god damn it.". Joe complained comically. It was logical though, it wasn't his specialty and it was of the others. His opponent was fast so the way to win this one was to force it to trade blows with him. He awaited the next attack and stretched out his arms. Taking his next hit while grabbing his arm as he impacted. Forcing him to hopefully not be able to retract. If succeeded, he would use both hands so that the grip was stronger and it would be the twigs one hand versus two of his. After that was set up, he'd literally lay harsh low kicks attempting to sickly snap his legs and go for the kill if his opponent wasn't done already.

Perhaps later he could improvise with his environment and use one of those shot needles to put them between each of his fingers as a fist. Changing his attack to sharp without sacrificing skill of not knowing how to work with it.

[User] Hazel smirked with satisfaction. Of course her sword skills would show up the Striker. She started to move in for her next attack, but was caught off guard as the creature used it's now stumped arms as a weapon. The needles came with considerable speed. I can't let those hit me, I have no idea what they do! She dived to the right, rolling as she hit the ground. She raised her sword again, holding it at waist level as she charged the creature again. This time I won't let you live long enough to counter attack! When she reached it she swung her sword around, aiming for its 'neck'. This time she aimed to take its 'head' off.

[Assistant]
Soka began running, strafing to avoid the attacks of one of the Vine Blights. As he ran, his metal was forming into a thin blade, razor sharp at its edges.

After avoiding the vine attacks, Soka controlled his floating metal blade. "Metal!"

The metal blade, powered by magic and not strength, cut through the air at the vines that had just struck at the metal adept. Soka's aim was off however and the blade didn't connect.

"It's a lot harder with moving targets," he mumbled.

Soon though, he could feel a spell being cast and roots were wrapped around his legs. "Oi, let me go!" he said, trying to call his metal back to him. The Needle Blight had turned its attention to him and Soka was still stuck.

Not good, not good.

Thankfully his new ally came and intercepted the Needle attacker before it could hit him.

"Yo, thanks Hayato," he called out, while beginning to cut at the vines that had trapped him.

[User]
Watching as the two walked away Rian finally let out a sigh though he tried to keep any emotion from mixing in with the act. Glancing at Winnifred, who had yet to head off, he nodded in the direction Haruka had gone and said, "Guess I'll see you at the room." With that he followed in the same direction as Ryouta, having dropped off his belongings at the armoury the day before.

He joined the others in the teleporter room a few minutes later, having not taken long to pick out and don his chosen gear. Gone was the flowing robe of soft fabric, and in its place was something that would have looked far more at home on an infantryman rather than a Cleric. There were some differences though such as the attire's coloration remaining beige, and the vest being for purely defensive purposes; no pouches or the like for storage. Armored plating was also woven onto the fabric in certain areas and while it did make the entire set heavier, it provided a good measure of defence and didn't hinder movement in the slightest. His footwear had also been swapped out for a pair of heavy boots that seemed to have seen a good amount of use given all the scuffs and markings on the material. In his right hand he held a plain and standard looking staff, this one ending with a two-pronged head.

Nodding to the two he took up a position, leaning against the wall as he planted the butt of the staff against the floor, to wait for Winnifred's arrival.