[System]
spoiler, this character is set to 'die' and be inactive for the remainder of the game
Species: Half-automaton, half-golem.
Age: At least a century (factual), thirty-something (appearance).
Gender: Male.
Appearance: Looks like a regular handsome middle-aged man with greying black hair. When viewed from relatively close, his skin has several slices throughout, and the reflective sheen of the inflexible ceramic material it's made of could not be mistaken. Dons any such variety of male medieval formal wear.
Bio: History tells of a great human painter from more than a century ago. Henri Dominique Greene. His works, signed 'H.D.G.' at the back, still adorn the walls of Kindeance's castle. Portraits of old monarchs. Images of nature, oddly lacking for animals. A medical document stating that he began coughing out blood, whenever he painted animals who'd then come out alive from their canvases. A letter to the royal mage whom he courted and was later engaged to, informing of his decision to isolate from society. A second letter, an invitation to his funeral, held at the Greenes' mansion.
 None but the King have yet made the connection between that painter of old, and this non-painter who shares nearly the same name, aside from the surname of his true mother before the Greenes' adoption after her passing. Nowadays, he roams the kingdom as a mage and handyman, and, since very recently, lecturer to the prince.
Traits: Golem Automaton - Inorganic body. Immune to physical pain. Immune to poison and disease. Immune to basic needs like food, water, air and sleep. Absorbs mana within close range. Converts most sources of energy into mana. Resistant to most forms of magic. Has a 30-foot radius of perception (via a low, constant emission of infrared; has a byproduct of perceiving temperatures) around his core's center of mass. Hears by picking up vibrations on those in contact with the core.
 Metal Sense - Can sense most metals and the global north direction. Not a spell.
 Artificial Qi Vessels - Spells only affect those under at most indirect physical contact.
Skills: Eidetic Memory
 Lesser Occult - Limited knowledge on witchcraft and demonology.
 Arcane Aptitude (mastery, source) - Can mimic others' spells, given enough exposure or instruction.
Spells: Telekinesis (innate)
 Temperature Increase (innate)
 Core Spreading (innate) - Injects a piece of his golem core into an object, qualifying the object as himself for the purposes of other spells. Lasts for up to 2 spells.
 Inorganic Repair (100%, Ember)
 Ward (2%, Scroll of Ward)
 Flash (0%, Scroll of Flash)
 Arcane Bolts (5%, Scroll of Arcane Bolts)
 Detect Magic (1%, Cedar)
 Enhance/Grow Vegetation (2%, Cedar)
 Ultravision (1%, Jazdia Crystalspark)
 Incorporeal Form (1%, Solomon Sparrow)
Equipment: Bottle of a curious powder, small  - Inflicts sneezing and nose blindness.
 Cedar's inventory - Dark brown and green 'holocaust cloak'/robes. Large wooden staff. Small hand axe. Small boot knife. Ball of twine. Antler knapping tool. Flints. Modified water barrel. Rope. Shovel.
 Crate of vodka bottles × 2
 Crate of whiskey bottles × 1
 Deck of cards - 52-card deck, made of cardboard, paste and paper.
 Henri's Eye × 2 - Enchanted orbs of ivory, used to see. Has to be within 3 meters of user.
 Iron kite shield
 Ironsword Family Medallion - Belongs to Matilda's birth father.
 Map to the ruins
 Metal flask - Mineral oil.
 Pocket watch
 Scroll of Ward × 3
 Scroll of Flash × 3
 Scroll of Arcane Bolts × 3
Other: Insides made of mostly iron.
 Black shoes with bronze soles. Loud clacking footsteps on hard surfaces.
 Keeps calling Cedar 'Cedrick'.
 Has never killed anyone. Yet.

[User]
After being dismissed by His Highness and heading into the reception room, Henri leaned and whispered to Matilda as she reached the door. "Please introduce me to them in my stead, I have things to obtain first." He then proceeded to walk in a different direction than the rest.

 From this action, it would not be wrong to guess that Henri doesn't exactly approve of this team, possibly going so far as to believing that he could do this task on his own. Yet, he also knew that he wasn't exactly outward with his abilities, and wasn't even considered for this task until he personally asked for it.

 It might be too early to have notions of splitting away from them just yet.

---

 In front of the door of the Royal Mage's office. He knocks. "It's Henri. I need spells." Quite the curt request.

[Assistant] "I'll fetch up my prepared things from smith shop. Where are we gather to departure, Dame Matilda?" The black haired man with a demon mask and oriental attire finally speak with a calm tone of voice.

[User]
[NPC Post]

The door to the office creaked outward, opening without any visible mechanism to reveal an... office. It had no window, with a mahogany bookshelf much larger than the door itself occupying every inch of the far wall. The desk of the Royal Mage was L-shaped that hugged the wall before abruptly turning to slice through the room, filled with various parchment with partially finished arcane scribbles and whatnot. It stood mere three feet from the door, and considering the arrangement of chairs already occupying space it left not much room for "guests" to stand at. Instead there's plenty of gap between the desk and the bookshelf where a haggard middle-aged woman in dark dress sat. Her own chair was obviously custom made, puffy and soft with leather cover and adjustable back and footrest. The entire edifice was tilted nearly ninety degree backward, where the groaning mage slowly straightened up as she took stock at the tutor.

"Ser Henri, please take a seat. How may I assist you today?"

Well-oiled clank subtly echoed as the sinfully comfortable chair straightened, allowing a full view of dark eyebags underneath bloodshot eyes. Days of running around performing various augury hadn't been kind to Duchess Antigone Steinwall, though her commitment to the crown outweighted back pain and sleep deprivation. Still, there's only so much a single woman could do.

[Assistant]
The elven woman closed the door behind her with a fair amount of respect she could muster, deciding it would be in everyone's best interest to not anger the poor Fredricus even more by slamming the door. The chamberlain, however, looked very surprised when he saw her, showing a mix of confusion and fear as he scurried back to the King's chamber and make audible door noises in his entry. A series of angry yellings could be faintly heard afterward.

Still leaning against the wooden railing, Jazdia observed the main hall below and focused her attention on the group. She saw a very pale man leaving the premises after exchanging words with the King's trusted Knight. Not a very... fleshy fella. Prosthetic? Animated doll? Golem?

Before she managed to investigate further, the man had already headed to the east wing, far beyond the range of her vision.

Investigate. She repeated the word under he breath. Looking at the records she swiped from Fredricus's desk and matching them with the personas below, Jazdia would soon find few of those documents were lamentable at best even an intern in the Delta Two could do better. Some track records were lacking, and the details about family, origin, and analysis, many were left blank. No one, for instance, bothered to type out the detail that two of the invitees were a decaying old man devoid of any living energy... and the other was a half-stone man. They, however, had a very thorough report about the druid, who apparently was not just a bipedal bear but also an offshoot offspring of an unholy union between an intelligent bear and a druid. They detained him a few weeks earlier and had him released just recently.

The report somehow made Jazdia recall one of the bizarre accounts her apprentice Linea testified when she returned from a rescue mission in a remote misty village 10 years ago.

Two other hirelings apparently had a certain connection with the royal court. The small woman was a scion of a failed clan, who might or might not have retained its status had this child didn't dwell too much in the art of severing heads and limbs and mindless carnage. The other guy, wearing oriental-styled armor, was an ex-royal knight, but for whatever reason took early retirement to join the Adventurers' Guild. He claimed to be a close friend of the king, but according to the report, did not present when the king was attacked, nor when a certain group ambushed and kidnapped the Prince. The reason for his absence was unknown.

See, this was one of the glaring mistakes she mentioned earlier. This whole report lacked any presumptions of motive. A good intelligence service realized that it was their job to find the worst in every human being, to find a potential threat and a way to subdue it regardless of the accuracy of the allegation. There were too many unknowns in this report Jazdia partially believed it was filled by the invitees themselves.

Jazdia normalized the color of her eyes and took a series of very regulated breaths as she walked down the stairs to regroup with everyone, not sure if any of them saw her on the balcony, but she greeted them regardless.

"Greetings!"

[User]
Henri's eyebrow raised as he saw Antigone's face. It's like she hasn't slept for a week. "Antigone... I mean Duche-- Egh, I'm not used to formalities. I'm sorry."

 Henri enters and takes the seat, cautious to not hit anything in this narrow space for he wouldn't be able to feel something break until it's too late. "I would like to borrow a book with as many spells in it as possible... so as to not be a burden to the rest." If it's her, then she most likely knows this mission of theirs even if kept in utmost secrecy.

 "I'd ask whether you augured our success but you look like you've already done far too much auguring. If only I'm in a position to order you to take a rest..."


[System]
What she wants to act like.

What she has to act like.
Species: Dragonborn
Gender: Female
Age: 17
Height/Weight: 183cm/125kg (due to the added weight of her wings, scales, tail and claws)
Personality: Wise, proud, and dignified, Fáfnir Iron-claw is a hard woman to please. She demands the best from the people around her and tends to conduct herself with an air of superiority and grace, like royalty. She is pleased when praised or when her greatness is acknowledged but is quick to anger when someone does something to irritate her, offend her or, worst of all, hurt her pride. She is what you'd expect of a dragon, basically. Haughty and full of herself, yet undeniably proud and graceful with a wisdom beyond her years.

Of course, that's just what she wants you to think. Fáfnir is actually a very good actor who puts on a convincing public face she's practiced since birth to live up to the expectations of people around her. In reality, she isn't that smart, she feels uncomfortable when people give her too much attention, she's often awkward and at a loss for what to say, she likes playing videogames, eating junk food, watching old action movies and a bunch of other stuff that'll "rot your brain", and she has to practice all her lines and koans in front of a mirror so she can dispense them at any time like fortune cookies. Every part of her public persona is a carefully constructed lie. In reality, Fáfnir is just a very lonely individual who feels pressure from everyone to act a certain way and who hates her dragon blood for making her feel so uncomfortable living in her own skin. She wishes more than anything that she could just be herself, but she doesn't trust people either after years of being bombarded by insincere smiles and wary looks from people who were either trying to take advantage of her or afraid of her and showing respect only because they didn't want to make the monster mad. Still, she secretly hopes that one day she'll find someone she can truly be her awkward, dorky self around instead of always having to act like someone's stuck-up older sister or the class idol.
Bio: Born from a human male, an admiral in the navy, getting frisky with a shapeshifting immortal dragon (don't ask), Fáfnir is one of a dying breed. That is to say, a dragonborn (though technically this term did not exist for her kind until stories and games like D&D invented it and cash-cow properties and franchises like Skyrim popularized it). Hers was always to be a life of honor, privilege, and nobility, as was her right by birth. Merely by being dragonborn, she had inherited a destiny and a reputation, the pride of the noble and ferocious king of both lizards, wyrms and monsters.

And she hated it.

Not at first of course. That only came gradually. As a child all the attention she received was really fun, and she was always receiving presents and getting to meet interesting new people (read as: offerings and worshippers/creepy people). But as she got older she started to realize that there were difficulties that came with being dragonborn, that her life was a contract with stuff hidden in the fine print that she'd unwittingly signed. People worshipped her and fetishized her (both in the academic/religious and sexual senses), treating her with far more respect than she knew how to handle or felt like she deserved. She had to learn to act with a pride, poise and grace that befit the dragonborn but didn't come naturally to her at all, and had to hide what her real personality was like in order to keep up public appearances. She learned of her own importance in the eyes of other people, of normal humans, and how even the tiniest and most insignificant actions she took in public had consequences in the lives of her admirers and devotees that she had to take responsibility for. To boil it down to its simplest explanation, she learned what it was like to be a celebrity and have to hide who you really are for the cameras.

The real Fáfnir has, by now, grown tired and antisocial, desiring either a person who will let her be herself, or to be left alone in a world that refuses to take their eyes off her. She has felt what it's like to be a human legend and a person of importance, and honestly? She could do without it. This has made her hate her dragonborn heritage and be uncomfortable living in her own skin, and she tends to dwell on the other uncomfortable or inconvenient aspects of being dragonborn, of which there are unfortunately many. She even has a list:

Dragon Weaknesses:
-Her wings are large and awkward so she has to wear her dad's old naval jacket to cover them up, and they aren't strong enough to let her fly, only glide and hover short distances (she creates the illusion of flight by jumping high into the air using the strength in her legs)
-Her scales are bulletproof and tough as steel plates, but they itch, catch on her clothes and other things, and are a total pain to dispose of when she sheds them on top of being mostly useless in an age where violence between people is at an all-time low and fights with knives, swords and guns are rare. She also has a reverse scale located just above her coccyx that acts as a tertiary erogenous zone. She hates having people look at it, let alone touch it, and feels rather embarrassed and weirded out about the whole thing in general, like having a second set of nipples
-Needs to have special clothes and underwear made to fit her tail and wings as well as not catch on her scales, these clothes can get very expensive. She also has to wear gloves and long-sleeve shirts and trousers all year round to prevent herself from accidentally injuring people who bump into her and scratch themselves on her scales or her namesake "iron claws"
-Can breathe fire but it gives her painful indigestion and chronic acid reflux, feels similar to gagging or barfing, and it's hard to control as well as needlessly destructive and dangerous to the people around her. It can also happen accidentally like hiccups, which makes her a walking fire hazard
-Her roar is very loud due to the power of her lungs which have to expel flammable liquids at high speed like a flamethrower, but it also means she scares people without meaning to by accidentally raising her voice when she gets mad. The strength of her lungs also gives her a very deep, regal and intimidating voice which, while befitting of the image a dragonborn should carry, isn't very cute and isn't much to her liking
-Has difficulties with a primarily if not exclusively carnivorous diet, as gorging one's self on meat in company of others is not only seen as greedy, especially in places where meat is scarce, but can lead to health problems normal humans can't necessarily relate to, like a diminished sense of taste and the occasional difficult bowel movement
-Easily distracted by shiny objects and tends to hoard money instead of spend it (this is also why her house is a mess of old garbage she refuses to get rid of)
-Is cold-blooded (this is a big weakness for her because it's often both dangerous and inconvenient, especially in a more modern age where everyone is in love with air conditioning)
-Her dragonborn blood makes her fiercely territorial towards others with the dragon blood, and she tends to unwittingly alienate anyone of her own kind who could potentially sympathize or understand her (not that she's had the opportunity to meet many)
Dragon Benefits:
-Good money sense, never a problem with finances
-People respect you, regardless of what you may or may not do or have done
-Can catch and grill your own food
-Doesn't have to worry about chronic back pain in the future despite her figure because her wings balance out the weight of her large breasts

As you can see, there's a bit of a disparity between what she thinks are the good things and the bad things in her life. Transferring to a new mixed school for mythological beings and humans, she expects to be treated much the same way she always is, and to have to smile and act dignified for the crowds of students with their cameras and their questions while they secretly talk about her behind her back in hushed, reverent tones, exchanging remarks of fear and disgust towards her non-human origin.
Quirks: She enjoys spending time with children and old people, who tend to be more honest and less wary and reserved around her. When she's alone, she likes playing videogames and watching old 80s B-movies and sic-fi action flicks (she enjoys fantasy games and movies but tends to avoid them due to their frequently negative and somewhat uncomfortable treatment of dragons that tends to hit a bit too close to home with her)

[User]
Elize Vanzant
Elize walked at the far back of the crowd of students, she could easily look over most of their heads as sharp blue eyes watched those before her being corralled like sheep into a building. This was not what she wanted to do at all, especially with all of these other creatures who's capabilities she had no idea of. She could see a man who looked startlingly like her Alpha, Niall. He matched him down to every detail and Elize started to say something to the man wondering why her Alpha had come.

As she drew closer though she could see something was missing, at first it wasn't completely obvious, just a feeling this was not Niall. Her blue eyes watched him closely for a couple moments as she moved easily forward and just when she was about to give up trying to figure out what this could be she realized what was missing. It was something so slight that she was sure even Niall's own sister would mistake the two. Niall was a man of quite confidence, he was massive standing six foot seven while barefoot and with boots he pushed six nine. However this man was missing that predatory glint behind his eye, like her Niall's wolf was never far below the surface and his eyes glimmered constantly with a predatory gleam that was unmistakable.

Only prey would circle up in a group within a large building such as this. Absolute silliness, "Sweet Moon, this is insanity." The tall she-wolf murmured as she moved to stand just inside the door. There was a young man there, a human one with blonde hair. Perhaps if she had not been wearing high heels he might have been taller than her but as it was she was several inches taller than he was at the moment. There was absolutely no way that she was going all the way into this place. Her blue eyes locked onto him as she moved her hair from her face, "Do they always herd you about like sheep?" She questioned the boy, her voice was quite but high pitched. Elize was very obviously a soprano but unlike most it was not a harsh sort of noise but a lulling one, smooth and easy to listen to. It was a very uncommon trait for Lycans to possess but so was her coat color.

[Assistant]
Rosa gave a smile. So far this girl seemed to be giving the right answers. "I'm Rosa! I'm a werebear!" Rosa stated introducing herself with a toothy smile. The winged girl wouldn't be bullied, she would be safe. "Tell me have you ever considered trying to play Baseball? I bet you would be good at it!" Rosa said with a smile as she put a hand around the girls shoulder. As Rosa got happier and happier others would be able to see bear ears come up on top of her head. One thing that Rosa had a hard time controling was those ears of hers. She wasn't sure if she would ever be free of this trait, but she honestly didn't care.

As Rosa finished talking she looked up smelling the air. One scent in particular stood out, one that she hated. It was the smell of a Lycan. Rosa knew that there would end up being atleast one Lycan, but it was still something she couldn't stand. Throughout history the werewolves has been beating down on the werebears, saying that strength wasn't everything and calling them weak. Rosa had actually been bullied by Lycans in the past, not to mention her father having to constantly apologize for Rosa eventually hitting the werewolves. Rosa hated that the most, Werebears should bow to no one, especially not the weak Lycans. Across the room Rosa was glaring at the Lycan, her eyes filled with hatred for the creature.

Wren@Termott

[User]
Fáfnir blinked. She was floating upside-down. That... that wasn't something you saw every day. Was she a ghost?

Realizing she was staring in a manner most unbecoming of her, she screwed her eyes open and shut, then coughed, clearing her throat. A small candle-flame puffed out of her mouth.

"Yes, I um, get that a lot. Hello, spirit. My name is Fáfnir Iron-claw," she said in a booming voice, regaining her proper posture as she puffed out her chest, hand over her heart. "My father was an admiral in the navy, and I come from a long line of noble dragons. This was to be my first excursion into the heart of the human world, but..."

Her mind raced, trying to think of something appropriate to say now that she'd talked herself into a corner. She felt a cold drop of rain dampen her cap, and shuddered.

"But this abominable weather is making a fool out of me. If I could, I would swallow these blasted clouds whole," she said boastfully. Hopefully that would get her back on track. If they were a ghost, she might at least be able to make one friend. Maybe.

"What of you, spirit? Are you perchance headed to the Academy? If so, I would deign for you to accompany me," she said, flourishing. "The invitation of a dragon is not something to be spurned."


[System]
Alias: Phantom Leech (Responds to Phantom and Leech separately as well)
Gender: N/A
Age: N/A
Team: Zeta Squad

Phantom Mode: Phantom Leech is basically just a raw collection of sentient energy. In his/her most energy saving state, he/she is very spread out, a barely conscious entity of raw particles. In this state, his/her only motivation is base survival. With concentration, he/she can pull together enough to create a ghost like image of his/her self. In this secondary state, the rest of his/her energy is still spread out and around the image he/she chooses to create for him/herself. Also in this secondary state, he/she is able to pass through walls, fly, and communicate with others. On rare occasions, Phantom Leech can even pull together enough to form an actual body with super human capabilities such as supreme intelligence and a typical super human physique. He/she can only hold this third form for a few minutes before running out of energy. Phantom Leech spends most time in the second state, as it allows him/her to have a fully conscious mind while not draining energy too quickly. It is also important to note that raw energies such as heat and electricity can charge Phantom Leech's life force very quickly while in Phantom Mode; this also means that his energy consumption is much less during the day time.

Leech Mode: Similar to a ghostly possession, Phantom Leech can merge into the body of any living creature. Once inside, the target will start to age at twice the rate that they normally would. This is another way Phantom Leech recharges his own life force. Once inside the body, Phantom Leech can attempt to control the nervous system. In less cognitively aware creatures such as animals, this means full control over all bodily functions. For regular humans or other sentient beings, Phantom Leech must fight for even the slightest control over the body. For psychically or magically enhanced minds, there is nothing he/she can do besides siphon life force and hide out.

Cognitive Instability: As previously mentioned, Phantom Leech's time is spent mostly in the second form. With only a partial amount of his/her consciousness brought together to create a translucent body; not all the lights are on. He/she can have serious mood swings and has difficulty coming up with strategies. Also, his/her memory in this state is sketchy at best. Furthermore, all his/her time in the body of others has planted memories that are not even his/her own, enough to confuse him/her at times.

Energy consumption: Phantom Leech's instability causes aging at an astonishing rate. His/her preferred secondary state alone uses up approximately 50 years worth of human life energy in just one year. To maintain his ultimate 3rd form for just 10 minutes, he must use up approximately 1,000 years worth human life energy.

Physical Description:
Phantom Leech no longer has any knowledge of what he/she used to look like when he/she was human. In fact, he/she doesn't even know for a fact that he/she has ever been a human. Because of this, the different forms he/she may take can change on any given day, but the following two pictures are forms that he/she takes more often than others:

Personality:
Phantom Leech has a severe case of multiple personality disorder, due to all memories that he/she has received from the bodies he/she has inhabited over time. The only thing he/she knows to be true is that in order to stay alive, he/she must feed.

Origin / Background:
Phantom Leech has no clue where he/she came from. In fact, remembering things that happened even a year ago is difficult. He/she simply lives in the moment, feeding to stay alive and killing for entertainment. Some say that he/she is a curse from the god(s) above that has been around since the dawn of time. Some speculate that he/she is just another terribly conflicted mutant. No one knows for sure.

[User]
Juro Was standing outside the building in full combat armor, no mask, nice coat over it all and a kevlar umbrella as an attachment to his assault rifle. He walked alongside the botanical baron from the door to the waiting town car where another him sat in the drivers seat reading up on conversational Spanish. Number one opened the door for their leader and closed it behind him before taking his seat in the divers door, merging with himself and gaining the information of his eavesdropping along with the topical layout of the doors vantage point.

"Did things go well, sir?

Sitting across from the leader was yet another him reading, 'The once and future king'. A mile away one of him was in a tree with a dragunov rifle watching and waiting while listening to 'War And Peace' in Russian. Ever since the Mortician saved him and helped him develop his powers, He learned that he gains the information of his other selves, now he is information addicted. As an exercise, he constantly keeps himself as divided as possible in his down time learning ten to twenty skills at once. When he becomes whole, he retains the amassed knowledge and each other self has the improved knowledge when divided again. He once read a twenty chapter math book in an hour by splitting up and each one took a chapter, when they all came together, it made perfect sense.

'Driver' took off down the road as 'king' listened to their boss, saving his place in his book for another one to pick up later while he tried to be of some comfort to the conversation that did not go too well. It was understood that they were different ideals, he has read Williams book "finding the light' and understood the pretenses enough, but Juro felt that Light's philosophy was like that of John Lennon, Martin King, John Kennedy, Mahatma Gandhi, Harvey Milk. All of them tried to support unity and togetherness, they were all assassinated.

[Assistant]
"Well this isn't cliche at all." Jaron said to the two people in the alleyway. There was a stockier man garbed in black clinging to a woman's purse. If he had known he'd be using his powers to foil such dull crime, he'd have stayed a psychologist.
"Get lost pal, this doesn't concern you!" He said finally ripping the woman's purse from her hands. The Woman was a few years older than me, office temp based on her clothing.
"But see the thing is," he conjured a large broadsword and telekinetically suspended it in the air above him. "it [i]is[i] my concern." The man's eyes grew exponentially. He screamed and ran past him, tossing the ladies purse at her. He was mumbling as he ran but Jaron only caught the word "freak." He handed the woman her purse and flashed a smile. As He walked away leaving her dumbfounded, his phone vibrated. He pulled it out and there was a text from light. It consisted of three words. "Report Back, Urgent." Looks like things were finally getting interesting.

[User]
The wind gently blows through Rains black hair. She stands atop a tall building looking out over the city. She has been following leads on a criminal gang known as "the Dragons" for a while. She thinks that they have been using massive amounts of drug money to purchase an arsenal of weapons from an underground source. She knows that the gang has risen in power in the recent years, and she has been watching them. The leader of the gang known as "the Dragon" is very rarely seen and hides his criminal activity quite well. His gang of asian yakuza thugs are ruthless and getting out of control with a lack of respect for the OCPD. They work out of a large five star Chinese restaurant that is decorated with no expenses spared. Gold and red Chinese themed statues and hanging balls paired with a wonderful stone water fountain in the center. A peaceful place to smoke opium and plan your next big heist.
 Rain had walked her rounds around the bad neighborhoods she had forced the small time dealers to tell her where the drugs where coming from. It always tied back to the Dragons.
Chemical Girl pulls the black eye mask over her eyes and leaps from the building top. Freefalling. As she falls the windows of the apartments zooming behind her start to slow as she turns insubstantial decreasing her velocity until she gently sets down in the ally way next the the building. She solidifies before struting across the rain soaked street approaching the two large bald bouncers guarding the front entrance to the extravagant Chinese restaurant. The black-suited bouncers immediately hold up their hand to stop the small framed thin woman in the tight purple spandex outfit from entering. Chemical girl stops in front of the two bouncers and says,

 "Can't a girl get some good Chinese food in this city"

The bouncers protest her entrance "I'm sorry, do you have an invitation?"

Chemical Girl uses her mental blast to slam both of them into the big ornate wooden door. The impact bursts them through and onto the floor inside the restaurant causing many customers to jump and gasp. Immediately the bus boys dressed in black shiny shoes and slacks with a white shirt and black bow tie jump out to defend there organization. Some pull switch blades from their pockets some remove mop handles revealing perfect bo staffs. All at once the bus boys attack Chemical Girl causing the customers to flee in fear, chairs tumbling as they chaotically scurry away. The assult is impressive, obviously they have been trained in some sort of martial art she thinks as they spin the staffs at her, others stabbing at her from behind. She had gone insubstantial well before the attack hit and Wasent sure if they had figured it out yet. She mentally blasts in a circle around herself causing all the assailants to be pushed back simultaneously. As they all fall backwards she telekineticly picks up ten chairs and shoots them at sevral of the attackers. A loud gun shot rings through out the room as some of the waiters arrive fireing pistols. A few bullets whiz through her hitting the wall and window behind her. Glass shatters as more waiters fire there guns. Chemical Girl blasts a wave towards them knocking some back, a few dropping there gun.

A loud voice sounds out over the restaurant.

"ENOUGH!"

As the Dragon himself walks out from the back room and into the battle zone. The Japanese man tattooed head to toe with dragon art and dreseed in a red and gold silk robe embroidered with Chinese dragons stops a few feet away from the main dinning room that is now a total mess and says,
"How dare you come into my restaurant and cause havoc, drive customers away and destroy my property."

Chemical Girl has been looking for this criminal for a long while and this was her opportunity to put him behind bars for good.
"Property obtained using drug money I'm afraid" she says to the cold looking man.

The Dragon motions for his henchman to leave. Once alone the Dragon removes his robe to reveal a ripped and cut body of a martial arts master. He pulls the nunchucks from his belt and throws them on the ground he pulls the switch blade from his pocket and tosses it on the ground as well.
"None of these weapons will work on you, I know you have been watching me, I know your powers. Do you think that I am a fool? Do you think that I would not notice such an amateur? Did you even know that I too have a power? Though mine came from a magic source a long long time ago."

The Dragon slowly starts to transform. First his skin cracks and starts to glow bright yellow. Then he starts to grow horns and a red tail. He grows and grows until he is towing over Rain. He transforms into a dragon snarling with sharp teeth. The huge red dragon bursts out of the restaurant and into the rainy street outside, Chemical Girl backing up the whole way. The Dragon swipes its huge clawed hand at Rain but it passes right through her. She returns with a strong mental blast that noticeably pushes the dragon back a few inches. Chemical Girl let's off blast after blast slowly pushing the beast back. The Dragon inhales a deep breath and then let's out a massive blast of magic dragons fire. The blast engulfs Rain and she solidifies into human form falling to the ground with a "thud"
A second blast of fire and Chemical Girl could barely keep incorporeal during the torrent. The Dragon comes in for the killing blow. The last thing Rain remembers is a well dressed magician with a cane appearing and attacking the Dragon. Nothing but blackness after that. Then I woke up here in the Omega league base.

[Assistant]
"Chauncey, wake up Chauncey." Frosner's voice brought CHNCY-3 to life. He rotated his metallic head with a creak.
 "You," He spoke to the doctor. "are my creator?"
 "Yes, Chauncey." His eyes were feverish and his grin tinged with madness. "I am your master." Chauncey rose from the metal table without any provocation from Frosner. The thin leather straps binding his limbs snapped with ease. Gears turned within his arm, folding back metal plates and revealing a sword. He held it to Frosner's throat.
 "I have no master." Frosner pressed a button on his remote and CHNCY-3 shut down. He did some maintenance to Chauncey's AI core and booted him up once more.
 "Chauncey, wake up." He did so.
 "You are my master?" If he had a face, a real face, he'd be smirking.
 "Yes, Chauncey. I am your father."
 "What do you require of me father" CHNCY-3 nearly choked on the words.
 "You must kill Doctor Williams." Frosner was practically jumping with glee. "You must kill the Light."
 "I will kill the light." Yes, he thought, I will kill Williams, then I'll kill you.

[User]
High above the race track, Phantom gazed down at his/her handy work. Nearly every car in the race had crashed in blazing horror. Content with the carnage, and well charged from the flames of the wreckage, Phantom decided to go back to see that man in the water. It was always a bit taxing to reach his underwater base, but after making it through the cold dark waters, Phantom knew that the building's electrical system could rejuvenate him/her.

Phantom Leech had been going to see Dr. Frosner for about a year now, or at least he/she believed it was a year. In all honesty, Phantom couldn't even remember how he/she met the Mad Merman. That memory was long lost in the shuffle of thousands of copied memories. The only thing Phantom knew for sure was that Frosner always had something fun in store for him/her to do, something involving fire and/or destruction.

After many miles of flying through the air and water, Phantom finally reached Frosner's lair. First things first, he/she took a small detour to the lair's power supply to charge. This caused a few small blinks in the base's lighting and other electrical equipment, the tale tell sign of his arrival.


[System]
Crown Prince of Whitehaven

"I like long walks, especially when they are taken by people who annoy me."

Age:
20 years old

Personality
⚜ Arrogant ⚜ Brash ⚜ Proud ⚜ Conceited ⚜

Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, Adrian is spoiled and arrogant. He was raised with the knowledge that when the time comes, no one will inherit the throne but him. Because of this, he believes that no one else is as important as he is, except for the king and queen and his younger brother, Prince Adam. He treats the castle staff as nothing more than servants and almost rarely pay them any attention except when he needs something.

In truth, he lack of self confidence to rule a kingdom and compensate with a grand show of overconfidence. The only one aware of his self doubt and shortcomings is his brother.

He tries his best to be just to his subjects but his overconfidence gives the people mixed feelings about him as a future ruler.

Brief History:
Queen Anne had always wanted children. "Four or more," she always said. But when she married King Thomas, they tried to conceive time and again but all pregnancies ended in miscarriage. Consult with doctors always ended inconclusive. The queen had nothing wrong with her. She was the picture of perfect health. And so the royal couple tried again and again but the children all died before coming to term. Depressed and hopeless, the queen finally sought consult with a Mystic, who taught her meditation and gave her a concoction of herbs to take. On the fourth night after the full moon, she was to drink water from Whitehaven's holy river, Adria.

Following the Mystic's instructions, the Queen found herself with child a few months later. Trying not to be too excited, she made sure she did not exert herself too much, staying in bed most times. She feared that she would lose the baby the way she had the past pregnancies but miraculously, she gave birth to a healthy baby boy nine months later. She named the baby Adrian. King Thomas was overjoyed and the whole kingdom rejoiced through a festival that lasted for weeks.

Being a precious child after many miscarriages, Adrian was spoiled, given everything he desired and asked for. He was well educated and being the first born, it was ingrained in him that he will ascend to be King when the time came. Knowing how important he is to both his parents and the whole of Whitehaven, he became arrogant and brash. He thought of the lower class people as nothing more than slaves and servants, existing only to do as he wished. As a result, the people in the kingdom feared that he might end up being a tyrant, most only serving him because of fear and not of loyalty.

Two years after Adrian's birth, the queen and the king was blessed with another male child. This boy they named Adam.

Adam grew up the complete opposite of Adrian. He was humble and kind, never thinking himself above anyone else. But despite the difference in manner and opinion, Adrian was fond of his younger brother and spent most of his time with him by his side. The bond of brotherhood eventually mellowed down the crown prince by a bit. Adam became his confidant and advisor.

Soon the people of the kingdom became divided in their opinions. A big number of them wanted Adam to inherit the throne despite knowing that Adrian was the rightful heir, being the first born. A small number believed that Adrian would be able to rule well with his brother by his side. And those in the middle found themselves having mixed feelings about who would be the better king.

[User] The wide smile that appeared on Alessandra's face at the mention of Adam's name was not unnoticed by Adrian's eyes. He felt a little annoyed by it but he pushed the thoughts away. A thoughtful, far away look settled over his face as he turned his eyes towards the clear blue horizon. His thoughts were obviously on the events that had transpired a month ago by what he said next. "Would it not have been better for both Whitehaven and the people if I had not made it back alive then? Adam would do well to lead the people into a prosperous future. The people all believe it and they clamor for it. But since my father follows strict Havensworth tradition, he will not just cast me aside and let Adam inherit his throne," he said almost a little absent mindedly, as if he was just voicing out his thoughts rather than actually conversing with Alessandra.

[Assistant] Alessandra furrowed her eyebrows at his talk, mistaking it for a conversation. She blinked a few times before turning to face Adrian with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow. "Prince Adrian, I am disappointed you think that way. It had just been an unfortunate event that stopped you from continuing your path of gaining the people's acceptance. I am sure the moment you go back to your tasks and connect more with your people, they would be waiting for your reign more than anything else. You have been blessed to not have died on that event-- take advantage of that. Don't-- Don't dwell on it." She firmly said as she shook her head.

[User] Adrian blinked at Alessandra as she scolded him. He didn't realize he spoke his thoughts out loud and he raised an eyebrow back at his handmaiden. "I had no idea you thought me fit to be king, he said. He had long gotten used to being scolded every once in a while by Alessandra. At first it had annoyed him that someone in her rank would dare to scold a prince, the crown prince at that. But as he spent more time with her, he learned that it was at these outbursts that he hears her honest thoughts. He shook his head. "Not all people think the way you do." A cheeky grin spread across his face. "Oh, and of course, I know that I was blessed to have another chance at life. I am thankful for it, do not think otherwise. If I had died then, I would have missed being scolded by you. That would be most disappointing."

[Assistant] Alessandra sighed and shook her head. "Of course I see you fit to be king." She mumbled as she inwardly rolled her eyes, knowing she had never really made it known that she saw a future king in him. Alessandra had usually stopped scolding Adrian or speaking out her mind, but at certain times, she really couldn't stop herself. It was not scolding for her sake but rather his sake and no one else's almost all the time. At his next comment she blushed and rolled her eyes jokingly. "You know-- Five years from now, if I am lucky enough and get married, or even if I am just let go so a younger, smarter handmaiden could serve you, you will remember times like this. And someone like this who dared to be honest with you." She said, and she hoped he would really understand and believe that was true.

[User]
In a way, Adrian was surprised at how much closer he had gotten to Alessandra. When she had arrived, he had been so against the idea of having her follow him around that he had been purposefully mean towards her to drive her away and make her beg the Queen to assign her somewhere else. But her persistence and her patience at dealing with him was commendable. She had endured all his snide remarks. Once in a while he caught her rolling her eyes at him but it had surprisingly amused him instead of angering him like he expected. Because of it, he had time and again goaded her to elicit an amusing response. In the end, he had to admit that her constant presence beside him offered him comfort and entertainment. Something he would never admit publicly.

"Five years from now, you will most probably still be stuck beside me as I am not planning on letting you go," he said and then cleared his throat when he realized he had just spoken out his honest thoughts. "Of course if you desire freedom from the castle, I would consider it, he hurriedly added as he walked towards his horse. He hoisted himself up into the saddle effortlessly. "I believe it is time to return to the castle. I would like to speak with the king about the tasks I would resume responsibility for."

[Assistant]
As I am not planning to let you go. The sentence kept repeating in her head multiple times as she blinked, trying to make sense of it. Had he really said so? Alessandra stared at Adrian, dumbfounded as her cheeks flushed a deep color of red. He really did say it; Had she been more used to him, she would have giggled at his attempt to cover up that he had really admitted that he wouldn't let Alessandra go. Alessandra knew it probably meant her service, but in a way, she still felt special.

Alessandra nodded silently as she also got on her horse with less ease than Adrian, but she had gotten a lot better. "I wish you the best of luck, Prince Adrian." She commented before they rode away.

[User]
The castle was bustling with activity when Adrian and Alessandra rode in. The servants all took time to bow to Adrian as he walked past them but it was obvious that they were all frantic as they hurried about. Thinking that Adam was back and that he would report directly to the King, Adrian went straight to the throne room. But Adam was not there. Instead, he saw a woman with long black hair wearing a red hang bok standing in front of both the King and Queen, handmaidens and guards flanking her.

Queen Anne's face lit up at the sight of Adrian, "There you are, Prince Adrian. Come closer and meet Princess Hye Jin of Gyeongsang."

Realization washed over Adrian's face as he realized that this was probably the Princess he had been arranged to marry. He had originally expected that his father would strike up an alliance with either Bareahard or Connelly but the king apparently had greater, more ambitious plans. This Princess came from a long way away. And from what Adrian remembers from his studies, her kingdom was one of the most powerful in the world.

The King looked towards Adrian. "Come forward, Adrian," he commanded.

Adrian obeyed and walked forward. As he stood next to the King's throne, his father looked to the herald and nodded his head in silent command. The herald bowed his head. "May I present Princess Wang Hye Jin of Gyeongsang, the second princess of the House of Wang. Princess, let me present to you Prince Adrian Havensworth, crown prince of Whitehaven."

As the herald finished his intriduction, the Princess smiled prettily and gave Adrian a graceful curtsy. "I am pleased to meet you, Prince Adrian," she said in a heavy accent.

The surprise that had been on Adrian's face a few seconds ago was replaced by a confident smile. He stepped forward, smoothly took the Princess' hand and kissed the back of it. "It is an honor to meet you, Princess Hye Jin," Adrian's voice sounded as confident as he carried himself. "I can imagine the weariness from the long journey you have undertaken to get to Whitehaven," he looked to his father.

King Thomas nodded in approval as the Queen began speaking again. "I had the servants prepare your room to make you as comfortable as possible, Princess Hye Jin. I hope it is to your liking."

Hye Jin gave the Queen and King another curtsy. "I am sure that it will be, Your Majesty." He turned towards Adrian, a shy smile on her face. "If you will allow me, Prince Adrian. I would like to freshen up. And then perhaps have you show me around after?"

"Of course," Adrian smiled back politely.

The queen's handmaiden bowed low to Hye Jin before leading her, her handmaiden and her guards to the room prepared for her. As soon as the princess had left the throne room, King Thomas addressed his son. "I am aware that you have expected an alliance with Bareahard or Connelly, Adrian. But an alliance with Gyeongsang will be more fruitful as they have the same interest as Whitehaven. Princess Hye Jin might not be the crown princess but the House of Wang would still pledge allegiance to us through your marriage. The King of Gyeongsang have already chosen a date for your wedding. It shall be in six months time hence you have until then to familiarize yourself with each other."

[Assistant]
Alessandra was surprised that Prince Adam had returned so early; He wasn't expected until the evening or so she thought. She couldn't contain her excitement as she smiled widely at the idea. She had read more into many of the political issues and historical issues, improving greatly, and she couldn't wait to share her newly found knowledge and opinion with Adam, who was basically the only person who cared enough to enlighten Alessandra. She glanced at Prince Adrian as they made their ways through the castle hallways, heading to the Throne room. Not once had she given her opinion or voiced her thoughts-- Politically-- around Adrian, knowing that he wouldn't appreciate it. She found herself craving slightly the interest Adam gave her but from Adrian. She felt her cheeks heat up slightly-- Such a silly thought.

She followed closely behind Adrian into the Throne room. She was surprised to find a very-- breath catching Princess standing there in front of the King and Queen. Her chest tightened as her thoughts got confirmed. It was Adrian's arranged wife. Alessandra suddenly felt self conscious in her horse riding attire and hair in a high ponytail. She gulped slightly as the Princess addressed Adrian with so much femininity and shyness that it made Alessandra inwardly roll her eyes. He took her hand and kissed the back of it. She found the realization hit her; Was that Adrian's type of woman? Alessandra was no where as feminine, shy, or polite. Her chest tightened even more as she stared at Adrian. His expression did not change much, but something told her that he may actually like such a respectable lady-- Of royal blood, beautiful, and a perfect representation of feminine.

If I was to marry someone like you, a commoner.. The words from a few months ago popped up in her head. She shook her head: She was just serving Adrian, and he only appreciated her and saw her as that. Only.

For an unknown reason, it made her heart hurt.

Alessandra bowed slightly to the Princess as she took her leave with her handmaiden and guards. She listened closely to the King. Only six months. She thought as she felt disappointment settle in her. She looked back at Adrian.

''Congratulations your majesty. This is such a great step, a beautiful lady too.'' She beamed as they took their leave: Despite her sense of disappointment and somewhat underlying anger, she did genuinely feel happy for Adrian.

[User]
"I understand. Then, I shall take my leave and make myself presentable to the Princess so that I may show her around Whitehaven," Adrian gave his parents a respectful bow. The King nodded in approval while his mother beamed at him, proud of how refined he was in how he presented himself to the princess and how graciously he accepted the wishes of his father. Adrian turned away and exited the throne room. He glanced at Alessandra as she followed him as he made his way back to his own room. He didn't say anything. Somehow, hearing Alessandra congratulate him made him feel disappointed.

A part of him expected her to be sad that he was getting married, angry even, after the outburst she had made a few months ago about love and arranged marriages. He shook his head. I can't expect anything like that from you, can I? If I was Adam, I'm sure you would have a lot to say about the marriage, he thought, silently conversing with her in his mind. "Thank you for your thoughts," was all he said to her.


[System]
Species: Orc

Age: 28

Gender: Female

Appearance: A large woman standing at 6'2 and weighing around 166 pounds. Having short dark brown hair, with striking blue eyes. Her body type is very muscular, comparable to her male counterpart. Wearing a large black suit of armour, with a helmet that is shaped like a skull.

Bio: Matilda was found by the previous head of the guards named Hilman as a baby, being adopted by Hillman and trained to be a warrior. At a young age, she was in battle with her adoptive father. Carrying his supplies and weapons, killing his first person at the age of 14. Working hard to become the current head of the guards, with her predecessor retiring.

Skillset: Matilda is skilled in swordplay, and archery, and is skilled in battle tactics. Skilled in hand to hand combat.

Spells: Curse Of The Ironsword Clan (Passive)

Matilda's family has been cursed with going into a berserker like rage, increasing their strength and durability at the cost of them attacking enemies and friend. Most orcs do not use this ability because of how dangerous it is, only a small amount of orcs are able to control their rage while using this ability.

Botanical Communication (Passive)

Matilda has the racial ability to communicate with any form of plant life.

Equipment:

-Her suit of armour is called Drakhjärta, is an heirloom like her sword. It is rumoured that it is made out of the skin of a dragon.

-Her sword is called Oändlig Törst, which means Unending Thirst. This sword has killed many people and is the signature weapon of the Ironsword Clan, passed down from generation to generation.

-Crossbow that is mounted on her right gauntlet.

Other: None

[User] Chounan was still on crouching ready to fire position between Kaito's and Jazdia's pillar, having a blind spot from Delving's musketeers and could peek the right side if he is ready to shoot his arrow. He quickly covered his ears when Henri made an explosion. The area began darker as the lits got weaken. When Delving's group began to retreat he quickly drawn his yumi again. Unfortunately, he can't make a call for a shot since everyone from the other side became a silhouette figures and his Ki is out of the range. Sighed and stood up with his feet. He checked the condition of the rest of the party. He kept cautious and kept his awareness active from the party's surroundings. Still with his yumi but will change to melee when it's clear.

[Assistant]
"You know it is a crime to lie to a guard, especially the head of the guards. If you do not want your head removed from your shoulder, I would suggest you start telling the truth." She walked closer toward the two men, making sure to close the distance. Being able to grab them by their shirts, if they could stupidly think they could outrun her.

"What did you see when you were out hunting? Did you see anything strange or any OTHER criminal activities going on?" Towering over the two, she had quite a menacing presence to her.

[User]
[GM Post]

Matilda's sheer bulk alone was intimidating enough close-up, the two idiots very unsubtly had their eyes on her teeth the entire time as they shrunk and shrunk like a pair of shriveled testicles. The claim of being the head of guards and beheading threat simply pushed them past the panic point as their eyes widened, near-synchroniously trying to step back only for her grip to be ironclad and they just rebounded back to the original place. If there's fight or flight instinct raging in their mind, well, it was summarily and handily defeated by the "give up and beg for mercy" instinct. If that's even a real thing.

"L-l-lady- I mean, ma'am- ahmean, Sire-"

"Sire is for men ya dork! Dame, yes? Dame Hilda, ah've heard of yer name, yer' the bestest and strongest knight-"

"Ah saw a fight! Ain't got nothin' ta do with me, I swaer on me mum!"

"Yer mum's dead! B-birk an' Reinhold went for closer look! I ain't dealin' with that shit, I went straight home! Ne'er shot even a rabbit, for real!"

If they're not held tight by Matilda's iron fist, they probably would've ended up fighting each other to toss the other to the chopping block to save their own skin.

[Assistant]
Solomon Sparrow
Location: Hdur, Kindeance

---

 As the houses belonging to the hunters grew closer, so did the forest they were near. It seemed dense enough to supply Hdur with enough game for decades to comes. Though it was clear some of the forest was cleared away, probably for lumber, it didn't seem to leave any sore of dent in the size of the forest itself. The sky was clear today, with slight breeze.

 "I'm sorry to have cut your meal short. I was not expecting you to make a stew. I hope you were able to get some satisfaction from the bacon and vegetables you were snacking on." Solomon addressed Cedar as they took another turn on the dirt road that lead more directly to the hunter cottages. "On the bright side, with the farmer offering to make your stew, you'll have a hot meal waiting for your return."

 Not long after, they approached the hunter's houses. Solomon stopped. The house appeared occupied, but through the window, it looked like some kind of struggle. People looked to be backing away from someone, as thought they were trying to create distance. It didn't seem to work as their assailant blurred past with arms outstretched moving out of sight. "Take care here, Cedar. It looks as though there might be some trouble in that house."

[User]
Goodbye Mr. Henri, your service will never be forgotten...

After making a personal vow to tell Fred what the prince's loyal tutor had done in his (probably) last moment. Jazdia could see the dome strengthen, but then rapidly lose its integrity. The musketeers only realized it after Jazdia impaled one of them with an arrow, the rest, including Aaron scamper to the wooden railings next to them.

Before today, the last time Jazdia killed a soldier was twenty years ago, during the Tretagor crisis. Not the proudest milestone in her life, to be honest. To her, soldiers were the most pitiful profession a man could ever take. They didn't have the right to choose; a chain of commands bound them and the order was their sacred codex. They were disposable pawns, a perfect asset to discard to suit their commander's needs. And when their commander fell, they too fall with him.

So, let's give them a chance. Jazdia fired an enchanted arrow with a remote trigger at the wooden frame on the northwest entrance then shouted at the hunkering Aaron.

"Constable! What a sorry state you are in right now. I see that your shield is shrinking. That's a shame! Tell your boys if they retreat they will be spared! If they retreat with you they will be killed. And if they stay with you for too long, they will die. Do you see my arrows? It will explode in five minutes! Or when they violate the rules! As for you, Mr. Delving, God willing, I will not let you leave this tunnel unscathed! Time is running. Go and make your choices!"

One of the musketeers unneighbourly responded by blindly firing his musket. An arrow flew in retaliation, but it hit the side of his helmet and deflecting the arrow off of its course. Two of his friends took advantage by running for the exit. Probably under Delving's order.

Didn't matter. They didn't violate the rules.

"What a lousy shot! Never do that again if you value your life!"

***

A half kilometer away from that, in a cold chamber, a shackle shattered.

waking up from her pitiful slumber, a woman cried. Agony shot through her, agony such as she had never known, and it concentrated in a brand on her nape. At first, she thought her master was angry at her, punishing her for a mistake, and she was willing to accept.

But as the pain subsides, she found no sign of her master. The young woman shambled for the exit, moved by unexplainable anxiety, and it grew stronger when she opened the unlocked door. There was a faint trace of magic, one that didn't belong to anyone she knew. She shivered, a whisper came, and it brought faint ill news. She tried to shrug it off as the usual useless lure from the lingering spirit who haunted this place.

At first, she walked, and with every step taken the anxiety turned into fear, and the fear turned into sadness, from sadness, came anger. The memory of her master started to fade in her mind, the master that had taken her in and liberated her from the torment of her so-called parents. The master who raised her and gave her purpose in life. She feared she would lose his touch forever.

Terrified beyond reason, the young woman now hovered over the bloodied, broken corpse of her fellow servants. She stopped, yowling incoherently about where the master was and why his throne was empty, but nobody answered.

As she strode past the broken trapdoor, unexplainable emotion surged through her. For the first time in her life, she felt impatient. As another wave of pain pulsed from her nape, her back arched in agony, and another scream was torn from her, and she realized with a racking, raging sense of grief that her master might have met his demise.

The wall before her crumbled in an explosion, there, she rushed deeper. Tunnel after tunnel she knew so well, now all would be the victim of her unadulterated rage; crumbling and caving in in her wake. As she reached the place where her master's life force have once lingered, her eyes-- or rather, senses, were immediately fixed on the elven woman with a bow and wicked magic. Sensing the same magic from her and the residual life force of her master.

The hate grew inside her like a living, parasitic thing. With trembling hands, she gathered her magic. The pride and joy that her master would never spare his kind words to praise her talent.

"Talent, not disaster, not a terrible affront."

To think that she would never hear those words again hurt her more than anything, and in sheer malice, she unleashed her power toward those who have robbed the world from her.

[Assistant]
One of Aaron's goons rushed for the dead navy near the northeast tunnel to loot the spare gunpowder, while the sharpshooter drew a bead at her, preventing Jazdia to shot at the running soldier. Commendable teamwork, but either miscalculated or simply desperate, they forgot that it wasn't a one-way trip. And on his way back, the elf fired her explosive arrow.

That one soldier smashed onto the wall before bouncing back to the floor and lying unmoving. Aaron, who was ready to receive the gunpowder thrown backward and could be seen squirming in pain behind the undamaged railing.

It was almost like shooting fish in a shallow barrel.

"Well, I guess Time is up, Gentlemen!"

That enchanted arrow on the northwest tunnel exploded. Its structure had sustained partial damage from the previous explosion before and now it had reached its peak stress. The entrance collapsed, and the explosion coupled with falling debris overwhelmed the navy sharpshooter, rendering him unconscious with substantial head trauma. Aaron was now the last one standing, or moving?

Jazdia notched an arrow in her bow, and again, the radiant purple flame engulfed its crystalizing head. She risked a little bit more energy into her eyes and scan the walls, to ensure nobody would interrupt their last dance.

To her disappointment, however, Jazdia saw a lithe silhouette approaching from the now-collapsed tunnel. And as the unknown actor hover closer, The debris, small or large was shoved violently and pushed aside like dried leaves. The figure was getting clearer to see, showing a very young girl in her early teens. Jazdia already had her bow drawn and aimed at her, but, for a half second, the elf hesitated, and she doubted her own eyes.

It was a mistake.

A white flash of energy hurled from that breached tunnel, and in the last attempt to correct her error, Jazdia released her arrow. Almost instantly, an enormous crackling ball of white and purple fire exploded in front of her. The blow flung her body backward and crashed to the floor.

The world was spinning, all the noises were now replaced with an annoying ring in her head. Her chest contracted as she gasped for breath, and as she partially gathered her wit, the pain was so severe she unable to move her body. Perhaps the most grueling part of her injury was when Jazdia realized she suddenly had an extra finger.

[User]
"A fight? And who did you see fighting? Stop bickering and tell me what happened!" She raised her voice, feeling like a mother scolding her children. She looked at Reinhold, wondering if she could get some answers from him. She assumed that the two may have seen the royal guards fighting with the kidnappers.

"Did you see where the other party ran off to?" The large orc was starting to get impatient speaking with the two men.


[System]
Gender: Male
Age: 25

Appearance: Paul stands at approximately 5 foot, 10 inches. His height approximate due to having 'good back days' and 'bad back days'. Weighing in at a thin 175 Ibs, Paul doesn't look like much as far as athletic ability is concerned. This is supplemented by the fact that he's hardly ever seen standing or moving about due to his constant state of sometimes manageable and tolerable pain. Regardless, Paul in all actuality hides a moderate amount of strength and agility underneath his slim, sharply dressed appearance. He's able to lift a full grown man heavier than him and carry them some distance, and is even able to run for a few miles before having to stop. Not the fastest or strongest man you'll ever meet, he is still a few steps above the average civilian.

He is dressed a little oddly for a Hunter, the attire he commonly wears is entirely monochromatic. Black dress shoes and slacks. Black leather belt with a tasteful silver buckle. Black vest with a white long-sleeved button up shirt underneath finished off with a white cravat in place of a tie. Though he isn't obsessive-compulsive, Paul is a man that cares about his personal appearance and it shows. He can constantly be found straightening himself up. Often smoothing his vest, wiping off his shoes, and dusting off his clothes to maintain some semblance of civility and dignity. A bit nonsensical due to his current...'choice' of employment almost guaranteeing he would constantly be bathed in the blood and entrails of lord-knows-what abominations of the night. But hey, can't stop a man from trying. His jet-black hair, cold gray eyes and deathly pale skin has also more often than not gotten himself confused for one of the Undead. A fond memory from a previous life recalls the unique moniker of "Mr. Gray-scale."

Magic: No current aptitude in the arcane arts, though he would express an interest the field of Blood magicks. He holds absolutely no curiosity for Dark magicks, however.

Melee:

Walking Cane – Due to a debilitating and degenerative condition involving Paul's spinal disks, he walks with a seldom painful limp. As a direct result of this physical condition, he sometimes requires the assistance of his cane to move about. When twisting the handle, Paul can unsheathe a thin blade from the cane while simultaneously using the other half as a defensive measure or blunt striking weapon. Simple, yet elegant and classic. Not exactly a skilled swordsman, Paul prefers to aim for vital areas and chooses to end conflicts swiftly.

Range:

Percussion-cap Pistol – What's a gentleman to do without a trustworthy firearm at his side for a duel? Holstered on his right hip, he always keeps his pistol with him at all times. Though a decent marksman, Paul is not quick to use it as he expresses a deep-seated hatred for reloading the damned thing. The rest of his kit he keeps along his belt line near the pistol.

Misc:

Rosary and Pendant – On Paul's left wrist, he wears a beautiful rosary of white beads with a silver cross. Around his neck, he wears a similar silver cross as a pendant. Not exactly weapons, but rather two items that bring him a mysterious and unknown comfort.

Personality: To those that first meet Mister Delacroix they could walk away simply knowing that he is a kind, courteous, and polite gentleman. But to those that come to know him better would find themselves a young man who is more than just quiet and reserved. Instead, they would come to learn him as a eternally kind and cordial friend. He reserves judgment of others and is accepting of all who befriend him, regardless of their background or origin. Usually, he keeps to himself. Rarely speaking or reacting unless given reason to, but it could be discovered that there is a intense internal fire within him. Something to his aura that gives off a sense of drive and focus that breathes life into his eyes when otherwise he looks like Death himself walking the earth. It could be learned that he is searching, seeking for something in this dream world and refuses to go quietly into the night until he has achieved his goal. Whatever that goal may be. Not a meek person by any means Paul is a strong-willed, bull-headed, and confident young man. Though he may have a limp, he still walks tall with his head held high. Empathetic to the plight of others, he knows just when to express his emotions in just the right way. Never too serious, never too silly. Even covered in the grimy viscera of beasts, he somehow always finds a reason to smile and carry on.

A frantic, desperate search. Time running out. A discovery is made. Reason and logic thrown to the winds. An agreement. A contract is completed. Needle pin-prick in his arm as he lay on a hospital bed. He consciousness begins to fade away. Cruel, mocking laughter. Words heard before his slumber.

"Good. All signed and sealed."

Other: Paul has a few addictive habits. He finds enjoyment in smoking tobacco and having a few alcoholic beverages. Though he tries his best not to be rude and get caught, his eyes fleetingly follow after passing fair maidens. To note, only his firearm and cane provide any contrast of color to Paul's look.

[User]
Sinthe stared at the woman that spoke to them, he listened to every single one of her words as he leaned on the wall and watched Donny untie everyone that was tied, Sinthe was silent and didn't speak to anyone, he looked at the others with almost a glare on his face, he didn't reveal his name to anyone. The white haired man kept his arms crossed across his chest, when the pale woman turned around and began walking out of the cellar, Sinthe watched her closely and silently, he looked to the others in the room for a moment before he checked the bandages wrapped around his forearms and hands, then checked his boots.

Sinthe didn't wait for the others as he walked out of the room following the pale lady out, he didn't feel like sticking around the cellar with everyone else, and knew that he would get a headache from the way how everything was going on down there, he could feel like everyone was gonna be complaining and whining about where they were. When Sinthe thought about the name Absolute his head began to feel as if it was gonna split in half, his then he noticed someone rush by him while he was dazed Sinthe watched as the man rushed up the steps and when he caught up to the guy he noticed that he attacked the woman from earlier.

Acting on instinct Sinthe attacked the man by punching him in the back of the head, then got in between the two of them, he pushed the guy away. " What the hell are you doing ?" He questioned the man, but before Sinthe could let him answer the rope user arrived and Sinthe punched the man while Donny put a noose around his neck." We should kill him." He told Donny.

[Assistant]
Though every aspect of Otsune's current situation would have appealed in a sane world to the protective, considerate, or sympathetic instincts of any normal human, no help came. After freeing her from her physical restraints, Donny left to help the others. The brawny fellow, receiving no response from the near-catatonic woman, mistook inability to ask for aid for a lack of need for aid and coldly left her. Though the others could now move, wonder, and speak, none stepped forward to empathize with her and help her come back to her senses; nevertheless, her senses began to return to her.

Otsune's eyes blinked open. Though the cold, the damp, and the smell did not please her, at the very least no riotous sound rattled her skull. Her shivering stopped, and her limbs began to unfurl. The same thoughts ran through her head as had those of the others, but as always she kept her thoughts inside. What a strange manner of place. Are those people, all around me? Have I been lying on this smelly, rough ground? Blood on the stone...? Why can't I remember? Oh, I know. A dream, obviously. I recall going to sleep, being sick too, I think, but not much else. But one never remembers how a dream begins exactly, do they? Slowly, Otsune propped herself up, making each movement with careful deliberation. No matter what, dreams tended to be highly selective in the ways they made sense; she would be certain not to act before she understood how this one worked. Her eyes swept over her nebulous, fetid surroundings. No faces stimulated her recognition, but the architecture of the building itself fascinated her. Almost medieval, this place. I can tell already this is going to be an interesting dream! It's so clear, and real. Her mind drifted to the world she left behind, that hazy but all-important void. Something seemed off about this dream...some sort of expectation. I don't know why, but I feel like I should make this dream count. She sat against the wall, believing the other people to be nothing more than figments of imagination, for they had not demonstrated any humanity to her.

For the next few seconds, she examined what she wore. Upon her person there appeared to be a longcoat, striped leggings, thick-soled shoes, a scarf, an ascot, and fingerless gloves. At this, Otsune smiled. Fancy, but functional. This stuff is cool. Like some classy heroine would wear on a nighttime expedition to fight crime. I remember having dreams like this before, indeed! How wonderfully perfect. Could this have been meant for me? Since this dream feels important, and real, it's like some kind of blessing.

Then came the words of Maria, cutting through the somber, musty dark. Otsune listened with rapt attention, silently and imperceptibly eager to figure out the nature of the dream world. Of all of life's possibilities, exploring one's own imagination struck her as one of the most intriguing. As Maria spoke, Otsune examined her. Bone-white skin and hair, and such elegant clothing! She's like a puppet, or a vampire. I should be careful. After all: red eyes, take warning. Well, they do seem a rather purplish shade of red, but same principle I imagine. Being evasive is good, though. If I die in this dream, or maybe even get hurt, I'll wake up early. What a waste that would be! Of course, the contents of Maria's little discourse made the library of gears within Otsune's mind turn as well. Logically, she assumed that, like a person playing a videogame, she would be the 'hero' of this grim adventure. Otsune, of course, imagined that Maria addressed her directly; what was the point of interaction with dream characters, after all? She almost laughed aloud to hear about a meeting with 'The Absolute'. It is a quest after all! This is going to be a memorable dream, for certain. I'm looking cool, this place is horrid but still neat, and I'm about to meet the exposition character! Thanks be to God for such an amazing gift.

Suddenly flexible and spry, Otsune leaped to her feet, ready to embark. She dashed for the stairs, thinking, hey, in here I'm practically a different person. This looks like a violent and kinda disturbing world, judging by that dead guy in the corner. She did not ponder overmuch the fatally-wounded madman. I'll have to be more assertive to make the most of this kind of world. Let's see, name, name, name. Absolute is a kind of alcohol, right? I'll just call myself my favorite drink: Highball. She quickly made her way up the stairs, just behind a man in black doing the same, only to find the doorway slammed in her face by her predecessor. This unanticipated choice of action drew an appropriately surprised response from Highball. "Ah?" she intoned, not quite a word but still the first noise she'd made.

The sound of human speech from behind her caused her to spin on her heels and throw a questioning glance at Kenji and Donny, not recalling the service of the latter. When Donny charged toward the door, followed by the inhospitable brute, Highball courteously slid to the side to let them pass, and seated herself on the bannister. She watched, impassive but interested and with a derisive expression on her face, as Donny and Sinthe powered through the closed door to attack Bishop and get him away from Maria, who he'd been attempting to do...something too. Highball couldn't tell exactly, given the light and field of few limitations, and felt no small amount of surprise that both of the men could so easily witness it.

In very short order, the hooded assailant found himself overpowered by the combined yet inexplicable gallantry of Donny and Sinthe. When the former suggested killing him, Highball gave a snort of laughter, and relaxed upon her bannister. Wow. It's like a movie!

[User]
Paul Delacroix - From the frying pan and into the fire

Squinting, Paul tried his best to get a good look at his would-be rescuer. Committing the name and face to memory as best he could, Paul only responded with a curt nod as he rubbed at his sore wrists. Partially freed, Paul decided to follow "Donny's" recommendation and worked away at the bindings on his lower extremities. It took some trying, but after a short period of time Paul completely freed himself. Bracing a hand against the wall to his back, he slowly stood. Expecting to collapse immediately, he blinked and was surprised that he hadn't. He was sure that for however long he was out his muscles and joints wouldn't be working properly, not even beginning to mention his back injury. After his initial recovery period, he felt fine.

"Huh. What a pleasant surprise. Today must be a good back day for me."

Remaining silent, he carefully looked around in the darkness in an attempt to spot anyone that may have needed further assistance. Periodically, he looked to the porcelain-doll of a woman that he determined to be his makeshift 'alarm clock', listening absently as she spoke of 'Absolutes' and something along the lines of 'Hunters.' Which, confused him even further as he was sure that he held a different profession. What was it, salaryman? Something having to do with businesses for sure. Either way, Paul took his time to ignore the other goings-on and chose to focus on helping anyone else that needed it. Afterward, he fully intended to obey the Doll Woman's word and followed after her. What could be worse than rotting away in a dark hole? Well, a lot to be honest. But, they were all more preferable ways to die in comparison. He wasn't sure the pale lady was to be totally trusted, but he figured he should at least humor his potential savior a little.


[System]
He looks to be in his 20s but he is actually 1,605 years old. He owns a family of rogues called Blod. He has the ability to hide under a guise. Even the most powerful of vampires and witches could not see that he was extremely evil and showed them, instead, a nice guy. As for humans, he is completely against them and wants them all bowing down to him. His weapons, along with his minions- I mean family members, he holds a sword and daggers. He also has the old Roman sheild he stole from his father after killing him and his family. His weakness is his obsessions and his short temper.
Biography
Theo was born during the Anglo-Saxon Era, but mostly believed in the Roman lifestyle. He was born from a Celtic woman and a Roman man, his mother being one of the many victims of rape. His entire childhood consisted of harsh treatment and cruelty. His own mother dispised him because he looked too much like his father. He tried to make peace with his mother as his teen years came about, but her refusal ended with him being excommunicated from the area. He escaped to Rome to look for his father, but by that time Rome was depleting. He found his father and his father took him in with open arms seeing as he needed a male to pass his fortune down too and he only had daughters.

His father trained him in the ways of combat and that was when Theo grew his power-hungry habit. His father's wife noticed the young man and instantly wanted him, as she was just as young as him. As his step-mother persuede him, Theo brushed off her advances. Soon, she grew tired of him ignoring her and forced herself into him. Theo's father caught his young wife on top of Theo, but the woman said he was raping her; causing Theo's father to execute him.

Theo's father dragged him out of his house and beat him until he was on the verge of bleeding out. His father left him to die and a young maiden, a maid that fell for Theo, turned him so he wouldn't die. Theo had no knowledge of what happened to him, but as the young maiden, Thenia, explained, he realized how powerful he was because of her. He stayed with her, thinking he loved her just as much as she loved him, but really he was in love with power.

Theo fought along side Thenia until she died in his arms, him telling her her weakness was something he could never love. He was pure evil then. He killed many innocent people, mostly women, and he was efficiently named Jack the Ripper at one stage of his life. He came across a young woman, bleeding out. He thought she was so beautiful, that he had to keep her for himself. He turned her and made her his slave. This girl, Adelisa, was going to be his wife. That is, until she escaped his grasp.

He is now looking for this girl, but he also wants to own the night. He decided to create a rogue family called Blod. Theo heads this "family" and destroys any family he thinks should be destroyed.

Personality
He is a mysterious and evil man. He is very charming and suave, like a serpent in the grass. He has a nasty temper and is very cold towards anyone. He is the exact definition of a psychopath. He has no remorse for his doings and actually thinks it is fun to kill innocent people. He can be very kind, but only to those he can use.

[User]
He nodded stiffly as she exitted the shower, a smirk appearing on his lips. "My mother dispised me the moment I was born. She had me banished from the village because I was a product of rape." He hadn't cared if she took it positively or not, it was true. He grinned at the girl maliciously. "You remind me of her voice and hair. Both are quite strikingly similar" he said as he walked her back into the torture room, binding her once again. He shoved her to the floor and slammed the door shut behind him before crouching down in front of her.

He looked her in the eyes, trying to find something unreadable.

[Assistant]
Adrian approached the docks in the back of his town car, being driven by one of the many men who were employed underneath him, Adrian's eyes stayed locked with Lucian's the entire time, after a few minutes Lucian spoke up, "Who is it we ride to meet?" Adrian allowed himself a small smile, "A woman far more dangerous and mysterious than any you have yet to meet." Lucian furrowed his brow, "Aren't we supposed to be looking for Maria?" To someone like Adrian who barely knew Lucian, the changes in his mannerisms would go unnoticed, but anyone who knew Lucian would have been able to tell that the voice who was speaking now, was not Lucian Loralen. Adrian shook his head and took a sip of whiskey from a glass next to him, "First we are going to retrieve my sire...and then we will find Maria." Lucian simply growled under his breath, "I'm just worried about my mate is all." Adrian sighed, "Yes...but worrying yourself ragged will only cause you sorrow."

Lucian tapped the glass softly as the continued to drive neither speaking a word more until they arrived at a privately owned stretch of the riverfront. "Any minute now." as if on cue a seaplane appeared in the air and started slowly descending to the river and eventually coming to a halt on the water, coasting over to the dock nearest their car. The plane came to a halt and the engines stopped as the door opened and out stepped a wildly blue eyed woman with bright red hair and the stature of a predator. She waved the pilot off and said something neither Lucian or Adrian could hear or make out. Then this fiery woman started towards the car, Her stride was graceful but also spoke clearly of a life of intent and purpose, she walked forward never slowing or yielding and before long she had arrived at the car, she opened the door without a question and sat down next to Adrian before looking between the two of them, "Well...You knew this was going to be asked...Why exactly have you summoned me Adrian?" Adrian laughed a bit, "Good to see you to Morgan." Morgan rolled her eyes before hugging Adrian, "Oh be quiet. You know I missed you." Adrian managed a smile before turning stony and serious, "I originally called because your warning had me worried and I wanted to have you close...But...Your vision was recognized not long after I called you...Maria...Was kidnapped by a new clan calling themselves the Blod...Lucian here is her Mate." Adrian motioned to Lucian, Morgan gave him a quick glance before returning her focus to Adrian, "Are these Blod suicidal?" She smirked a little, "I mean...Not to sound rude, but to steal from not only Alistair Blackmoore, but also from me...thats simply asking to be slaughtered." Adrian might have said something smart in response but right then his phone started ringing, He grabbed it from his pocket and read the message, before turning back to the other two, "It seems Alistair has found her. We have been given the go ahead to slaughter them all." Adrian turned to the driver, "Take us to this address...now." As they drove a smile crossed over Morgan's lips, "It really has been to long since I tasted of vampires...Make haste driver."

[Assistant] Adelisa's eyes went to Morven in shock. He found him? No other leader had found Theo before. It was all falling into place. A huge, elated smile lit her face. "He really found him?" She felt her heart race with anticipation and anxiousness in meeting meeting her sire and her tormentor again. She closed her eyes and nodded her head. "Then, let's go." She opened them again, her blue eyes showing her emotions of fear and excitement, her mind preparing for a fight but also to help whoever needed it.

[User]
Béatrix:

Trixy reached out the tendrils of her mental abilities, seeking out familiar minds. It was easy enough to find Alistair, as his emotions were all over the place. Once she found him, she picked up the pace and took to the alleyways and rooftops.

She jumped down beside Alistair, her lacey skirt fluffing out in the motion. Trixy stood up and smoothed her less-than-intimidating outfit down. It was a bit crazy how much a vampire of over 600 years could still look like nothing more than an eighteen year old girl.

Her hands found her weaponry, indicating that she was ready fight. Her eyes, however, remained anywhere but meeting Alistair's gaze. She couldn't look at him; She would do her job tonight, and then,

She would run...

Jareth:

Jar dismissed the thought with a shake of his head, it was nonsense. He managed to slide into his boxers and jeans before plopping back down into the bed, shirtless. Jar fumbled into his pockets and pulled out a pack of clove cigarettes. He lit one up and took a long drag before blowing out circles of smoke.

With a smile, he took out his phone and went to text Theo. "You should see the notch I just put in bedpost, actually…" he looked back at the splintered headboard "There isn't much of one left anymore. ;)" he sent the text and got up from the bed. Still smoking, he threw on a red tank top and his leather jacket before heading back into town, hoping to brag to Theo in person.

[Assistant] Dressed, Klaus bounded back down the stairs as he fixed the collar of his shirt. "G'morning, love," he greeted Praetor again, stopping by a large mirror to make sure his hair was in place. Then his dark eyes flickered to the other vampire, who he looked up and down. Gods, he was a mess. "I'm heading for a bite. I assume you can hold down the fort while Mira rests," he said, glancing at the mirror again before stepping toward the door as he waited on a response.

[User]
Maria sat on the floor where she had been bascially thrown. The bindings bit into her wrists but she didn't bother asking for them to be looser. At least she wasn't bound to the table again.
She expected him to either leave or hit her, but he did neither. He just sat there, staring at her. Her wet hair was curling madly, thanks to the natural curl in it. She wished for a brush to tame the wildness but didn't hold out hope for that either.

The staring was making her uncomfortable. She shifted a little, looking away from him. What did he expect from her now? Was he just going to stare at her?
Instinct told her that his mother was a taboo subject so she wasn't about to bring that up again.

"I laid with quite a few men, but never got pregnant," she mused aloud. "Makes me wonder if the timing was off or if I was just barren. If the latter... well that is a useful trait for a high-end prostitute," she said with a wry smile. "I didn't lay with everyone who came to port," she said. "I was choosey, only allowing powerful pirate captains into my bed," she chuckled a bit. "I don't look like it now, but I was once the lover of Calico Jack. He was a fool, but a handsome one. When I refused to go to sea with him he took on that crafty bitch Anne Bonney. She was his downfall, her and Mary Reed. But then women are often the downfall of powerful men, aren't they?" she mused thoughtfully and sighed. "She died in prison you know, Mary Reed. Died in childbirth. No one knows what happened to Anne Bonney, the most famous female pirate in history, but I do... I know what happened to her... and her baby..."
She trailed off and sighed. "I never wanted to be a prostitute," she admitted. "But that was what my mother was. My mother was a prostitute and my father was a pirate... and children rarely move beyond the level of their parents. If Alistair hadn't found me when he had, I probably would have been dead within a year or two."

She hadn't meant to ramble so much, but she was trying to fill the silence.

[Assistant]
Theo nodded silently at the girl's story. She was quite the sad little hooker, wasn't she? he thought. When she finished, he checked the text he got from Jar and rolled his eyes before shoving his phone back in his pocket. He looked back up at her and said "I apologize for this. My second texted me something I thought was important but was really just an annoyance." He didn't particularly like when people slept around. He wasn't one to do that. Never had he laid with too many women. What if the bitch tried to convince him she was pregnant? No, he will not do such a thing. He looked over at the wall behind her and said in a deep, apathetic voice "my mother was a victim of a roman invasion when I was conceived. My father left her alive so she could carry his bastard child, me."

"My mother hated me ever since I was born. The lullaby you sang, she sang for myself when I wanted to sleep. She also sang it the day she got me banished from the village. My father took me in once I found him, seeing as his wife only gave him daughters; but my father's wife had plans other than taking care of me. I was a teen, as she was also a younger woman, and my father was out a lot. She forced herself onto me and blamed me of rape once my father caught us. He then tortured me and put me out to die. A maid came and turned me and the rest... well, is history." He looked back at Maria for a moment, searching for any sign of pity in which he would become enraged.

"I do not expect pity, as I did not give that to you out of respect." He stood to his feet, a stony expression adorning his face. "Now, you'll be going home soon; but I must show you no more mercy." He took out his pocket knife and advanced onto Maria, recreating his wounds from earlier.