[System]
Age: 26

Archon of: Water

Appearance:

Talay-a has features of both an Atlantian and a human. She has the eyes of the Atlantian, as well as the ability to breath under water, the gills under her ears, and the webbed feet and hands. However she's not as tall as the normal Atlantian, standing at about 5'7 with the darker skin and hair of a human, in addition to the curves that most Atlantian's don't possess.

Bio: Talay-a was born in the city of Atlantis, yes that Atlantis. A long time ago, Atlantis was connected to Earth via one of the rifts that used to be open all over the universe. Humans and Atlantians interacted freely but like always, Human's got too big for their potential and the Atlantians begged their patron Goddess, Andromeda the Archon of Water, to close the rift between their dimensions. She did so with great reluctance, but it ended with their connection severed forever. However there were still a great many humans left on the planet. Originally they were made into slaves for the highborn Atlantian nobles, though as time went on, and there was more and more cross breeding, they slowly gained status. While tensions are still high, humans hold positions in numerous council's and the royal family itself promoted the status of the humans. Especially after Talay-a was born.

Talay-a herself was born a bastard between the current Heir to the throne and her mother, the human representative of the High Council. No one knew what to do with her, especially after her father did the stupid thing, and claimed her. While that made her a Princess, she couldn't claim the throne because of her heritage as well as her bastard status, but she couldn't be ignored because she was a Princess. So she was trained as a spy for her older, half brother once she was old enough. Because no one suspects a 12 year old of absolutely anything, and even as she got older, she portrayed herself in such a light that she would have never been suspected for anything like espionage. She is known to most as nothing more than the pretty faced human Princess who would be marrying one of the nobles soon.

Personality: To the noble court of Atlantis, Talay-a isn't anything special. She's not blatantly stupid but she's not anything special. To her family she's quick witted, and quick to anger. She very much liked to be in the right, and made her opinion well known if she was passionate about the subject.

Special Gear: Other than her staff, which the Archon crystal fits into, Talay-a also posses twin blades that have been handed down through her family on her father's side for years.

[User]
ICE - Docia - In her newly found bedroom

She was tucked away at this point, sleeping in a fur blanket on a bed made of ice. The light that flowed into the room was distilled and fogged from the ice the room was made of. The room was below freezing, as a reflection of her inner self. She made sure to avoid all others on the way to the room, as an extra effort. A few moments of bliss and soon she was back on her feet. Her bare feet gripped to the ice floor below her and she walked along its surface with grace. Her sundress flowed behind her lightly.

After leaving her corridor, she found herself back in the midst of some of the others. Without saying another word she curtsied to anyone who spotted her and moved to the meeting room quietly. She found a seat off on one of the sides of the long metal table and waited politely.

She felt Taurus the Silent move inside of her, for he too was under a lot of stress.

[Assistant]
Archeon of Darkness-
In his bedroom
-
The click of a lighter, and then bubbling is heard throughout the dark space. Exhale.
"Damn, Eredos, this temple has everything." Gideon chuckled, and wiped the drool off his jaw. Smoke could be seen flowing out of his bedroom into the hallway. "Only the sober appreciate sobriety." Eredos hissed, and Gideon replied promply, "Do you always have to sound so menacing?". There wasn't a reply. A few moments past, and Gideon began drifting off into thought. "Your dream that night was quite intriguing, do you remember?". "Of course I do. And it's tempting." Gideon replied aloud, reimagining figures dancing around him and a new beginning.

Gideon stepped outside his bedroom in newly dawned clothing, wearing a hoodie sleeved rolled and black joggers alongside his iconic respirator.
W/ Sleeves rolled up

Gideon exhaled when he left the room, and smoke left the vents on the respirator. The thin fog smelled faintly of Marijuanna. If ones perception was high enough, they might realize he's simply constantly dosing himself with the drug rather than protecting himself from the elements of the air. It was there he saw Talay, and she began to wander. Gideon trailed behind her, cleaver mounted on his back. He wasn't stalking, he was just curious about her findings. If she spotted him, he'd conversate.

[User]
Subject 17, Archon of SoundLocation:
Notes:A pale, eyeless, mouthless man. Wears tinted goggles, a bandana, jeans, headphones, rugged clothes, backpacks full of parts.
 Everyone walked off in various directions. 17 had no idea how to find his room. He sat and thought for a time, content with the quietness of the lobby that they all rifted into. He heard several pairs of footsteps coming from all around, followed by gasps of excitement when everyone found their respective rooms.
 He just barely heard the crackling warmth of a fire. It wasn't necessarily chilly in the main room, but the warmth of a fire was always a pleasant sensation. He got up and followed the sounds. After a long time of wandering, he still hadn't found the fire. Perhaps it went out, or maybe the door it was hidden behind closed, preventing the sounds from penetrating their barrier. So he sat and listened again, seeing no point in making his way back through the corridors. There was no draft of air. There were no scents other than his own. Only maddening silence.

 He put on his headphones.

 Still silence.

 He took them off.

 He took his backpack off and shuffled through his messenger bag. It had been a while since he last injected. Five hypos were left. That would get him through five days if he stretched it. He injected one before placing it back in his bag. He took off his goggles and bandana, leaned heavily against the wall, and fell asleep somewhere between the Library he was chasing and the main halls.

[Assistant]
Aella

Appearance: Aella stands at five foot three inches tall, and weighs about 110 pounds. Her body is covered in lean muscle, but she has a bit of a small fat on her stomach. Her silver locks reach down to her lower back, and she has bangs that just dust her high cheek bones. Her somewhat pale skin and pointed ears tell of her elvish blood. With piercing blue-grey eyes, some wonder if she could even see into souls, but she can't, even if she wanted to. Her hands are small and delicate looking, but with calluses on her palms and her nails chewed off short.

paizo.com/image/content/PathfinderRPG/.. - 1
s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/64/2.. -2
Wings:

Actual armor:

Finding herself lost in the book, Aella actually had troubles reading it, a first for her. It was in the most primitive form of her people's language. The only reason she could even communicate with everyone that had shown up at the temple was that she understood the human language of English. Not extremely well, but at least it was a start. The bookish girl started to get the hang of the language pattern, focusing on the teachings of the elders. They had at least taught her how to read this text, since most of the temple's signs and such were in this language, but it was still more advanced then she ever progressed.

"Aella," the silver haired girl heard in her head, "There are better things you could be doing with your time." Aella sighed and answered, "Like what? I'm supposed to be finding answers, right? Isn't this the place for them?" She continued to read, trying to block out Sagittarius's wispy voice. "You need to talk to them...They're our friends, Aella..."

"They're your friends," Aella interrupted, "Until they prove themselves as trustworthy, I will not be calling them anything other than strangers."

"Well, maybe you should put yourself out there. They won't be your friend until you become approachable," Sagittarius sassed back and the silver haired girl frowned. The large book slammed shut as she stood, her face mirroring the annoyance she felt. "You know what? Fine... I'll do what you say. But, I'm taking a few books with me so that I can read them when I get time," Aella growled, forcing herself to trudge to the shelves. She grabbed a few titles that seemed interesting, trying to read up on the universes the others were from. She grabbed one from Atlantis, Estellos, Earth (in an effort to understand the woman she just yelled at), and had two from her own, Volos. "That'll start," she smiled to herself, carrying the stack of books with her towards the way she came from.

She passed a few empty rooms, and even that weird mouthless guy passed out on the floor. Skirting along the opposite wall, she continued on her way. All of a sudden, she spotted Maddie and Ian talking. She ducked into a room to avoid them, not ready to apologize for her own actions earlier. Facing the closed door, she felt a weird sensation tingling up her spine and she turned, not knowing what to expect. A gasp left her lips as she looked at the relaxing room around her. She felt at home since it looked to be a fancier version of things that came from her home. She laid the books down on the table across from the bed.

"Is this mine," Aella finally asked and Sagittarius answered, "Yes." Smiling wide, she started to explore the space. She looked within the small door next to the door to the hallway and found a closet full of outfits. She looked at one carefully, and found that it would probably fit her like a glove. Placing it on the bed, she walked to the only other door in the room. When she opened it, a beautiful bath chamber revealed itself. Taking it all in, she ran her hands along the beautiful cabinets and sink, sighing with content. Splashing her face with water, she sighed and rubbed her temples.

"I guess I should go try to mend bridges," Aella said to herself with a sigh. She first, walked into the other room and changed into the outfit (2) she laid on her bed, since her armor was quite uncomfortable for lounging. She sighed before heading out into the hallway. Maddie and Ian were still talking, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. She did have to apologize and did have something to say to Ian as well.

Walking up, Aella smiled, directing her attention to Maddie first, "Sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. The stress of everything going on got to me. And Ian, I want to say that I will back you if it comes down to who becomes leader, you…seem to have a level head on your shoulders, given the situation." She sighed and bit her lip, before asking, "Are we going to try to get everyone together?"

Changed which outfit she was wearing, since I wanted to save the other one, and a few grammatical errors

also @BreakingMe

[User]
Brynn "Breaker" Irons
Archon of Fire
Brynn's hair is a similar color to that silver in the photo, though the jacket is a much deeper red and his left eye is amber, being Cale's left eye. Wears an eye patch over this eye, he doesn't like people to see it.
Brynn walked through his own doorway like his companions did for their own. In an instant the room flashed a blinding white. When it lifted, what remained was an almost exact replica of Brynn's old apartment.
You miss it that much? It was just a crappy apartment. Not even two bedrooms.
"It wasn't big, but it was home. It just feels empty now."
He sat on the floor by the window. Outside it was another world, another time. It looked peaceful, a downtown area not yet affected by the B.R.F.'s rampant growth.
"Even the view is the same."
Brynn tightened the patch over his eye.
Don't want people to see it? Its a nice color.
"Its not mine."
He continued down the hallway towards the man who said his name was Ian. @Mirrodin
"You're the only one around here that seems to have any idea what's going on. I hope you at least do a good job of leading around this chickenshit outfit. You're probably one of the few with any sense at all of what the hell to do next."

[Assistant]
Talay-a Gunosh
Archon of Water, Princess of Atlantis
Talay-a was wondering through the hallways, and it was a testement to just how much she'd let her guard to down when she realized someone had followed her. Within a second she had her blade out and held it to his throat, glaring at him.
"Why were you following me?" Talay-a asked him, looking him up and down. He looked human, albeit a bit dustier than the average but she should know at this point not to judge a book by it's cover.

Enough Talay-a, he's done nothing to reserve the wrath of your swords, and we need his trust. Erebus was bound to the Archon of Light to balance him out for as long as I can remember. He's...let's just say there was a reason he hasn't had his own vessel. Making his vessel trust you will go a long way.
Talay-a took a few seconds to identify her options and decided the best one would be indeed to sheath her sword and take a few steps back.
"My apologies." Talay-a didn't know how to explain herself further, as she waited a seond to see if she'd get any sort of responce, although she didn't expect one.


[System]
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Race: Human

Weapon: Unlike the majority of Hunters that dwell the broken world of Remnant, Gratia wields two, separate and completely distinct weapons due to her poverty, which has prevented her from obtaining more advanced weaponry. She wields a dull, grey mameluke sabre named Valens, furnished simply with the imprint of her emblem on its hilt. It is utilised alongside her other weapon, an automatic carbine named Valentinian, black and silver and also light enough to be used with one hand.

She also owns an SUV that she acquired from a mafia family after a mission.

Specialty: Capable of dealing with enemies both in close combat and mid-range, Gratia's role on Team VGNB (Vignoble) is to draw the attention of Grimm as she cuts swathes through their ranks in her berserk rage. As such, she is quite the durable warrior, and if time passes, she will only grow stronger as her semblance drains away at the energies of her enemies, making her perfect for her position as the 'tank' of the team.

Semblance: Bibere Vinum - Gratia's lust for battle and power is translated into a semblance that allows her to drain the aura of others in the area in order to strengthen her own physical abilities. In particular, her speed, strength, and endurance. The effects compound over time, and thus while they aren't too noticeable in the first few minutes of combat, the longer one fights her and the closer they are in proximity, the stronger Gratia gets.

Following her conversation with her mother on what it meant to be a Huntress and what she meant to those close to her, Gratia's semblance metamorphosed into a new form, gaining an additional ability based upon her existing powers. Her ability to detect and sometimes recognise other lifeforms in the area has become more powerful, allowing her to inject a tiny portion of her own aura into people upon contact, creating a connection between her and her victim that allows her to track and identify them no matter where they go, and will not be broken unless either of them are dead, or if Gratia wishes it to end. It also provides her basic information on the victim's status, such as their health, mood and general condition.

Personality: At first glance, Gratia appears to be quite a solemn figure, impassive and quiet in the majority of situations. Restraint seems to come easily to her, and there is an aura of professionalism that permeates her every action. It would be obvious, then, to assume that she is a rather serious person, one who devotes her very being to work and believes that everything else is a waste of time. In actuality, this is mostly inaccurate. When she speaks it is generally to insult others, particularly her aggravating teammate Napoli, and her speech is peppered with gratuitous swearing.

She is extremely sarcastic and is quick to point out when a situation does not strike her as favourable. She is also rather arrogant and has a haughty sense of pride that dictates her actions. If someone starts annoying her, her impassive aura is quick to drop and Gratia will instead begin with a spewing out insults. However, she is not entirely horrible, being actually fairly kind to those who she deems as respect worthy and more importantly, not annoying. While she is quiet still, she is more than willing to offer them a helping hand on assignments and other problems.

In addition, Gratia possesses a strong sense of loyalty to her loved ones. If you piss her off or take advantage of her friends she will make your life a living hell. Of course, do what you want to her annoying teammates, especially Napoli, she'll only save them at the last minute when they're about to die. And you're not allowed to kill them. She gets to when they screw up.

When in combat, her normally solemn personality completely disappears, replaced by a crazed bloodlust that seems to consume her entire being (and probably those poor Grimm that she'll murder). In this state, it can be quite surprising to listen to her cackle loudly like a hyena as she terrorises her enemies.

Color: Chartreuse Green (66CD00)

Emblem: Gratia's emblem has a certain religious flair to it, with a solid sabre sitting upon a champagne bottle, which is a chartreuse green to contrast the black and grey of the sabre and background.

Appearance:

Source | NarayanK's Interpretation

Standing at a height of one point seven five metres, Gratia is relatively tall for most girls her age, a trait that is magnified by her rock solid posture. With long, flowing brown-black hair, onyx eyes and a well-defined face (though usually seen bland or scowling), and an athletic build, she can be described as rather attractive (though her compatriot-in-arms would argue the opposite), but few dare comment on her appearance in case she takes offence.

Due to her status as a student from Haven, she dons the snazzy uniform of her "beloved" school when attending class, completely unmodified and always super tidy (it comes at a surprise that to many that she is willing to wear the skirt). When outside of class however, she can always be seen with her signature black turtleneck, brown jeans and her green winter coat, which she is highly possessive of (and possibly willing to murder for, though that's a rumour). As a music aficionado, she frequently wears headphones in order to enjoy her smooth jazz and drown out the incessant chatter of her fellows and her teammates in particular.
Name: Galla Mindaro
Age: 15
Gender: Female
Race: Human

Weapon: Steel Construction I-Beam (W18X40)

Specialty: Without needing the use of a semblance, Galla Mindaro possesses a ridiculously immense amount of physical strength, capable of carrying even the heaviest of construction materials with ease. As such, her lightest blows can easily hit as hard as a freight train, sending her targets flying with little effort on her part. Similar to her more infamous older sister, she is incredibly durable, her numerous years of acting as Gratia's training partner having developed her defenses dramatically.

Semblance: Nemo Curat - Galla's apathy and sense of detachment from the world has been translated into a semblance that allows her to essentially detach a part of her own self, preventing it from interacting with the outside world. She can only induce this state in one thing at a time, and if she wishes to stop another part of her self from being observed by reality, she has to first reattach the originally detached part. An example of her semblance in use would be detaching her scent, thereby preventing anybody from smelling her.

Personality: The younger Mindaro sibling possesses a quiet and stoic demeanour, staying impassive in the face of any situation to the extent that one could easily mistake her for a stone statue. Restraint marks her every action, with each lifeless movement utterly lacking in any form of energy or emotion. To Galla, the rest of the world simply isn't important at all, and it is through this lens of utter apathy that she engages with life.

So great is her sense of detachment that absolutely nothing is capable of fazing her. Everything is met with the same bland air, as if there was a distant chasm between her and the rest of the world. She cannot bring herself to care for it, finding little that can stimulate her dulled emotions into responding. At times, it appears as if Galla lacks a presence beyond simply 'existing', seeming more akin to a cardboard cutout than an actual human.

She doesn't see it as a problem in any way.

However, that is not to say that Galla Mindaro is simply an emotionless mannequin that is utterly incapable of being human. The truth is actually the opposite; the younger of the Mindaro sisters is surprisingly empathetic, capable of understanding the feelings, motivations and experiences of other people to a great extent. It does not change her utter lack of interest and care for them, but if the whim were to come to her, she could interact with others with little difficulty.

It is because of this that, despite her eerie detachment, Galla possesses a bond with her family. Although she rarely shows any sign of concern for them, the younger Mindaro acknowledges her parents in their entirety, and it is evident that she respects her older sister in some fashion. She is also not devoid of friends, being able to, even in her bland and uncaring manner, work amicably with a number of her classmates. Whether or not she is a good friend is debatable, especially when she does not exactly care too much for them.

She is also highly observant of her surroundings, whether they be social cues, appearances or the shape of the world. Information is immediately captured and stored in her photographic memory, although much of it fails to affect her in any manner. She holds few opinions on them, but there are times when she does judge, usually through an arbitrary rating system. When taking action, there are also moments where she may seem rather excessive, unaware of whether or not something may be too much.

Galla may or may not have a sense of humour. It's extremely hard to tell.

Color: Chartreuse Yellow (DFFF00)

Emblem: Galla's emblem has traces of religious iconography, with a pitch-black profile of a rooster, one of the holiest animals of the Mistralese Church, imprinted upon a champagne bottle of chartreuse yellow, its brightness a contrast to the colour of the bird.

Appearance:

Source

[User]
Skye's ears perked up beneath her hood. "So you are a Hunter, and you go to Beacon Academy? I had no idea just from looking at you. I thought Hunters always had their weapons with them, like your friend with the oversized handguns. You must be really good."

She lost her brief positive mood when Luke mentioned his sisters, and in its place came a cold emptiness. She was becoming far too familiar with that feeling lately. She supposed she should have put two and two together, the similarities were obvious in retrospect. Still she had been caught off guard by the revelation, possibly because she hadn't wanted to see it. After seeing so many happy families today she supposed her mind had started shutting it all out. Now, however, she was reminded of her own loss and how she still had yet to truly deal with what had happened. Even weeks later. But that's not Luke's problem. Right now I need to remember where I came from. The sooner I do that the sooner my rescuer can get back to his own. I'll deal with my personal problems later, in private.

Skye took a deep breath and tried to visualize the hospital grounds as Luke had asked. Pushing aside the blurred memories of flat streets choked with people and noise and enormous buildings she focused on where her journey had started. It wasn't as hard as she expected which was very surprising. She suspected Luke's patience with her had something to do with that.

"Alright, very pretty lobby, giant glass window I walked into, sliding door... Immediately outside was a wide sidewalk and a street, a loop coming off the main road. Everything was unnaturally flat. That's been throwing me off pretty badly all over this city, that and all the straight lines. Natural terrain just isn't symmetrical, you know? Ah, right, of course you know. Honestly, I recall a distinct lack of memorable landmarks, but I do remember airships landing on the roof. We didn't have many airships where I came from. Just the one, and it was old. The hospital itself had fancy architecture like I've never seen before, it looked like it was made almost entirely of glass... It had to be six stories at most. This isn't really helpful, is it?"

[Assistant]
Sangue took a moment to take in what Lauren said. She mentally noted that she should categorize her leader's flexible weapons as "dildo-guns."

Ben's "dildos-guns" were strong enough to hurt Manticores. They fired powerfully, and it most definitely seemed like it would hurt if it hit a person.

She decided to at least remember what to call them if she wanted to spar with him later.

She continued watching Lauren and her father interact in what was probably the most vivid display of conversation she had seen between a family in silence.

@Kaithas@Plank Sinatra

[User]
Gratia Mindaro - Behind the Café

"Pay her back by staying safe."

Gratia Mindaro gently removed her hand from the pale, shaking grasp of her friend. There was more that needed to be said, to be properly addressed rather than left to fucking rot at the wayside, but there was nothing further that could be done right now. As much as it pained her, she couldn't keep pushing now. One goal had been already been accomplished. She could still handle the rest at a later date.

"You're not okay," she continued, her onyx eyes seeming to stare quietly at Nuit. "But you will recover."

She would make sure of it.

"Go take care of whatever bullshit you have now. But we will be going over your options."


[System]
Morgan has auburn hair, green eyes, and fair skin.

Tag: The Lost Knight

About: Straight out of the early Renaissance period, Morgan is a knight of 24. Once proud, brave, and honorable, he won fame and glory on the field of combat and the tournament field alike. Out of his armour, so to speak, he is intelligent, quick-witted, and generally friendly. He once shared the bravado of many young knights, but a scar across the back of his right shoulder stands as a testament to a lesson well learned.

In this new world, Morgan has lost sight of the man he once was. At first, he was desperate to return to his place in the world, to his wealth and fame. Over time, however, he has discovered that this strange and dangerous world is in many ways not so different from his own. Now, he fights for survival rather than glory.

[User]
Morgan turned again with a start when the other man the beind had circled addressed him. At least, the assumed there was a man under the mask and cloak. A foreign and strange-looking weapon hung at his side by a strap, and a motley asortment of gear was supported by the pack on his back. With his hood down, Morgan could see that the stranger had long red hair, not differing too much from his own auburn mane. If he imagined the mask as a knight's helm, he could see the two of them being not so different from one another.

"Hail and well met," Morgan greeted the other man, recognizing at the very least a fellow warrior. "I am Ser Morgan Selwyn, of... Well, I am not so sure that matters any more. Since we all evidently arrived together, I can only assume we share a lack of knowledge of this land." Looking around while he spoke, Morgan studied the decaying situation around the seafarer for a moment before turning his gaze to the horizon and the village he could barely see. "I was hoping that... whatever that was would be able to tell me about this place, but it seems we have been left to our own devices. I intend to visit yon settlement and see what I can learn."

[Assistant]
Top of the hill. Clifford had been pushed all the way back up, and when he'd made it there, he discovered what had been making all those roaring sounds.

A chimera.

Of all things.

Clifford's good eye widened as he turned his head, still moving, watching the chimera stamped the ground, glaring at a young woman further down the knotted hill @bcc, and an armored one who was looking to stand up to it @Densoro. The lion growled, and the snake hissed. It was ready to pounce at any moment. He and it were close, but its attention was still averted towards the women.

Clifford, half panicking, made a move. He lunged away and grabbed a loose, sizable branch from off the ground, kicked up by the chimera. He quickly regained his stance and started swinging the branch at the fiery being still following him, who wasn't so much threatened by the measly thing as it was annoyed. It waved a few of its four hands, smacking the branch away with surprising force, and igniting it in the process.

The moment the branch was aflame, Clifford turned and ran a bit towards the chimera. Steps away he arced his shoulder and, best as he could, tossed the branch at the lion's head. And he immediately took off running back down the hill in the direction he'd started, as the chimera whipped its two heads around to focus on the being of fire, roaring again.

Clifford prayed the two would focus on each other while he, and the women ahead of him, made a run for it.

The original group was still by the place they'd all woken up. Clifford wasted no time bounding towards, and then straight past them, in the direction of literally anything else that was as far away from all this madness as possible.

Christ, he needed a breather.

[User]
@ariplotter@Bishop

The girl, or woman, or whatever she was classified as, pushed Caleb's rifle down, while the bandit, or whatever she was, said that she wasn't a bandit. Then another person asked about what we knew about here and what was the last thing we remembered doing. "Fine, I won't shoot her then." he said to the person I though had been threatened "If you're not a bandit then then what are you?" he asked the formerly though bandit, then turned to the new man. "Bishop, I'm pretty sure everyone but that fire thing that just disappeared knows absolutely nothing about what this place is, and last thing I remember was falling to sleep on my bed. So there you have it, try and find out what this place is." Caleb said, then lowered his rifle fully, suddenly feeling pain from bullet that had grazed him... last night? "Ugh, stupid raiders." he muttered, lowering himself to the ground for a breather.

[Assistant]
Valencia Tempest
The Quick-witted Pirate with a Gentle Heart

*****

Valencia relaxed, but only slightly. Now that the clearest and most urgent dangers were easing down, she felt as though she could begin to get a feel for the lay of the land and the interesting group of characters around her. Reluctantly, she shoved her cutlass back into its strap upon her hip.

"I am a sailor," she told the man who had been so sure she was a bandit. "A traveler, if you will. Not a bandit, and not a brigand. I go where the ocean takes me; though I must admit I never expected my travels to bring me to a place like this. I'm called Valencia Tempest," she told them, also answering the questions of the other man who had introduced himself. "And I was adrift in a storm at sea before I awoke here." Valencia watched as the gunman lowered himself to the ground for a moment, and she noticed that he seemed to be in pain. Since he was no longer a threat, she waited for the young woman to introduce herself, and glanced instead at Bishop.

"You're injured," she pointed out, nodding to the medium-sized cut upon his elbow. "Did some foul creature attack you? I don't doubt that there may be more unnatural beings in this dream-like world." Her gaze drifted over to where the flaming spirit had left a scorched mark of its presence. The knight and the other man, covered in many layers and yet unhooded, stood there, conversing. The knight had warm brown hair and a well-structured face. His visage reminded her of Nils…

Valencia felt her heart skip a beat. No. Of all the times to think of that rascal, this may well be the worst. Nils had been the only man to ever hold her interest for more than a moment—not that she would ever have admitted that to him—and had been incredibly adept at sparking both her temper and her heartbeat. He'd been too rash and nearly got Valencia killed, and they'd parted on bad terms, but he somehow always crossed her mind at the most inconvenient moments. Still… from afar, the armored man could almost have been his brother.

Reluctantly, she tore her gaze away from the knight, wondering who he might be, and resumed her usual pithy demeanor, waiting for Bishop's reply while also remaining alert to the possibility of another dangerous situation drawing near. She had no way of knowing what could be lurking in the shadows, and hoped her cutlass, her skills in combat, and her swift feet would be enough to save her skin if another, more hostile supernatural creature engaged them.

@LizLegend @jordy0403 @FateWeaver

[User]
-" Must've happened when that creature burned the place I was standing at. Just a small cut, give it a day or 2 and it will vanish, nothing to worry about"-Bishop replied @ariplotter although instead of pain he felt another sensation, like a small void in his elbow part, although nothing major like not being able to lift his arm or something, his elbow was a little shaky,
-"Right, our first priority is to discover anything we can about this place, there is the chance that we might be here for a while if we're not teleported yet again. So finding some drinkable water would be nice for starters."-he said @jordy0403 @ariplotter @LizLegend while holding his hand above his forehead for a better view, noticing a river ,to the opposite direction of where that flamie figure appeared, followed by a forest and barely making the outline of a small town nestled at the foot of the jagged mountains. Thinking of a town filled with fire elementals wasn't making the idea of going there for food and information any more attracting, although there was the chance that there might be people like us. Maybe drinking from the river? Was the water even gonna be drinkable? Still not that thirsty to be the first to try. And why was that flaming goro atronach even standing there in the first place? Did he bring us here? Was he standing guard over a specific area that we shouldn't come across? Or is its goal to keep us here until someone/something arrives?
On further deduction, reaching the river before that flaming elemental reaches us must at least slow it down or hopefully stop it completely from chasing us.
-"I can make a small town further down past the river and forest. My bets are that if we make it past the river we should at least slow the flaming elemental a bit or hopefully stop it completely from chasing us. Since it doesn't want to communicate or anything we can't just wait here doing nothing."-while he was speaking @jordy0403 @ariplotter @LizLegend he saw the scarred-face guy running past him toward the direction where the elemental was first seen. As he originally started running because he saw the elemental, the fiery being must have followed him again and he changed directions to avoid him, again. Our best chance to make a run for it would be when the elemental goes after him again.
-"We should take a chance when the flaming being goes after the running guy again. He can't be in 2 places at once and while he is distracted chasing after him we can make a run for it past the river towards the town where we have the most chances of finding any information about our current predicament. However if the elemental catches up to us we must all split up, that way at least the majority can escape and we all know our meeting location, outside the entrance to the town."-Bishop said to @jordy0403 @ariplotter @LizLegend while also notifying the knight @fateWeaver and the other masked guy @BillSomething.
-"We can also join with the 2 girls @Densoro @bcc that went into the woods and share the plan with them".

[Assistant]
Hearing of the knight's intention to visit the village prompted Cronus to pick up his binoculars to see if there where any activity but before he did he told Sir Morgan of his own name "The name is Cronus Hades and you're assumption is correct Sir Morgan" Cronus answered simply and followed Sir Morgan's gaze to locate the aforementioned village, it didn't take long until for his own gaze to spot the village.

Cronus took a hold of the binoculars and through them, he could see little to no activity in the little village though that didn't remain long as he could see lights being turned on in a number of houses "I can see light"

"It seems that the village is inhabited Sir Morgan its likely they could have answers" @FateWeaver

[User]
Clifford was starting to feel somewhat secure now. Looking behind him, no one was in pursuit. Not those people, or that fiery visage, or the chimera. Coast looked clear, so amid the hilly plain he was running through, he stopped and leaned forward.

Panicked, half-gurgling breaths traveled in and out his face wound. Heart was pounding, arm still stung a bit from the bruise, but it was dying down well enough. Cliff stood back upright and scanned the area around him. The mountains in the distance, the forest just a short walk away, everything. It was all unfamiliar, alien to him. Back on Earth he'd been around nothing but white desert sands and clear blue skies for the longest time. He was sleeping in a tent the same as his fellow men, and then he was just...

Here.

Where was here? It wasn't in the same continent, that was for sure. Not even on the same planet with chimeras and fiery elementals wandering around.

Was he too abrupt in running from that crowd? He had an inkling they were in the same position as him, so they wouldn't know anything, but-

"I spy! With my little eye!"

Shouting. In the distance.

Clifford turned his head. Over the nearest hill, five men rode on horseback, galloping straight towards where he stood. They were wrapped in leathers and beast hides, well armed with iron and oak alike. They began whooping like jackals as they neared.

"Get him!"

Clifford turned and began running once more. But the fatigue was already getting to him. He was no match for the speed of the horses. The riders began twirling knotted ropes in the air, riding past him and lashing them at his feet. He fell forward, into the grass, and desperately attempted to regain himself.

One of the assailants practically leapt off his horse and jumped around Clifford. "Yeah! YEAH!" He called out, brandishing a wooden club and striking Clifford's leg with it. Another swift blow to the head, and he was out cold, lying on the grass. The other assailants joined in.

"Get the rope! We're taking this one to camp!"

"Look at the gob on this one... like a rotten fuckin' apple."

"He don't gotta be pretty, he just gotta be useful."

"That he does! Now get the GODDAMN ROPE."

[Assistant] Seeing the scarred-face guy running out of sight and still no sign of the elemental chasing him. The thing was gone! Or hopefully preoccupied with something. Bishop issued all the others @jordy0403 @ariplotter @LizLegend @FateWeaver @BillSomething to get a move on because this seemed like the best moment to do so. This was their cue to leave. Now the group would either follow after the scarred-face guy, assured that the road ahead was safe, meaning the elemental wouldn't follow them, or they would hurry for the village past the river. Waiting in place was always an option. Either way, Bishop didn't waste any time leaving, with or without the others.

[User]
While Cronus took a moment to peer through a device that looked like nothing so much as a double-spyglass, albeit shorter than any spyglass Morgan had ever seen, the knight returned his sword to its scabbard. For the moment, the only commotion had been one of the figures returning, only to continue on in the other direction. As he approached, Morgan could see that the man's visage was twisted and scarred. The man did not stop, and as he ran through the group Morgan caught the turn of the seafarer's head back to those around her. One man among them seemed to be attempting to take charge of the situation, but that seemed to be of little concern to the pair standing several yards away.

"It seems that the village is inhabited Sir Morgan its likely they could have answers." The words brought Morgan's attention back around to the village, and he smiled.

"At least we are not alone here. Shall we go see what answers they may have in store together then? I'd not look forward to traveling alone in this place. If that being of flame was any indication, there are threats here I have never imagined."


[System]
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Country of Origin: Raelus
Appearance:

Edon comes from a long line of warriors. While the Wolf house was never a major player, its members are known for being big, skilled and aggressive. Edon stands at 6'2" and weighs around 210lbs. He is fit and quick, trained from a child to defend the honor of his house and his nation.

Personality:
Edon is typically proud for a Raelusian. He is also pragmatic, reserved and, in a fight, ruthless. While he is not too good for some fun and recreation with the fighting men, he prefers to handle his affairs quickly and efficiently. Idle, aimless chatter tends to annoy him and he will not stand for dereliction of duty. He holds himself to his own high standards of personal fitness, hygiene and decency. It is no secret at all that he is ambitious and believes himself fit for a much higher station than a mere soldier. He is quick to anger over perceived personal insults and detests the 'unwashed masses'.

As is the case with many from his homeland, Edon sees those of other lands as inferior. Added to that his status as nobility (even if minor) and you have a person can easily dismiss anybody beneath his own status. Although he is reserved, he tends to have a massive chip on his shoulder when put into a position where he is subordinate to anybody he sees as beneath him.

He is not too proud to notice his own flaws, however. Losing his legion was a major blow to his ego. While normally the idea of serving under somebody like Varian would be rejected outright, Edon recognized that the man has been more successful than he. He intends fully to learn as much as he can from the Highman.

History:
Edon was born to a minor noble house. Being a fighter at heart and knowing his nations reservedness about sending their own into war, he used his inheritance to start his own mercenary legion. He was never a soldier in service to his own nation (instead going straight into the field as a mercenary) but he was raised from childhood to lead men and to kill men. His family, although minor, were militant ultranationalists and maintained a small but elite house guard.

They were a relatively small but well trained outfit of mounted infantry (they rode on horseback to an area then dismounted to engage in fighting). In order to blood his men and build a name for themselves, he took high risk missions that saw them used as heavy shock infantry, highly mobile quick relief force and counter-cavalry actions. His goal was to, eventually, take up missions where his men would be personal guard to high value individuals.

While his men performed well, he found himself part of a failed assault with no backup to save them. After fierce fighting, the officer opposite to him allowed Edon and his surviving men to surrender with honors. His group disbanded after that due to their losses and Edon chose to seek employment as a mere soldier in a rival mercenary group to try and work his way back up to a leadership position. It was at this low point in his life that he was picked up by Varian's outfit.

Weapon Preference: Trained primarily with the Bastard Sword but uses a Halberd as his main fighting weapon. As a last resort and for utility work, a Rondel dagger.
Side: Mercenary

[User]
Varian Sigmund - Dalenham, Ethora

Varian scoffed in response to Osmund's jest. The man had said practically the same sentence every single time he did something even remotely tiring. The Highman scanned over his mercenary companion for a brief moment - he was decent enough of a fighter, and didn't annoy Varian as previous companions of his had in the past, which made him tolerable. Varian knew there was more to this man, but he also didn't care enough to find out what that was. In all likelihood, Osmund would either move on or end up dead within the month. That's generally how these mercenary bands played out for Varian.

There was a time when he traveled with a female sellsword where that didn't play out as he predicted. He had found her in southern Miraheim, nearly frozen to death and more drunk than a woman of that size ought to be. The woman, Cassandra, ended up being quite a skilled swordswoman herself, and the two traveled for a few months together, before they separated. Varian wondered for a few moments what ever became of the young woman.

He snapped out of his thoughts as Osmond spoke aloud about the orcs. Varian took another large swig of his ale and shrugged his shoulders. "If they weren't monstrous, we wouldn't have gotten paid as well as we did. Speaking of which..." Varian began reaching in his bag by his chair, removing the sack of coins given to him by Edward. He distributed Osmund's share to him, just as he heard Edon's voice above him.

Varian glanced at the man and cocked an eyebrow and snorted. "Just Varian. Saying 'Commander' won't get you any extra silver," He motioned for Edon to take chair beside him. "The payment. Ten silver for each of us. Job well done. And a good job staying alive." He said to them, before leaning back and grabbing hold of his ale and downing the contents. He let out a satisfying sigh and leaned back as he watched the others look over their payment.

[Assistant]
Edon Wolf
Broken Keg Tavern
Dalenham, Ethora

"I am not asking for handouts," Edon snapped after hearing Varian's jest. He narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw, taking a moment to calm down and collect his thoughts. It seemed like he had something more to say, however, instead he took a breath and let it out in a soft huff. He seemed to be considering his next action carefully.

"Thank you," he said, his voice formal. Edon was not a man to mumble his words nor was he without manners.

Having visibly come to a decision, he stepped around to one of the seats at the table and stiffly took a seat. Unless stopped, he would reach for one of the pouches of silver and slip it into a pocket without counting its contents.

[User]
Varian Sigmund - Dalenham, Ethora

Varian eyed Edon curiously as the man grabbed for the coins without checking for anything. He wondered briefly what his reasons for doing so were. Did he trust Varian and believe he was honest enough to split it wisely? Did he not want to seem to eager to do so in front of others and risk unwanted attention? Did he simply forget due to stupidity? It could have been any number of reasons. The man did not strike Varian as someone interested in the money. At least, not to the extent of being greedy. Soon enough Varian dropped the thought out of his mind. He shook his head, and took a few gulps of his Orbrigg Ale before slamming the goblet on the table, satisfyingly letting the aftertaste develop in his mouth.

As Varian prepared to speak, he was interrupted by a throat clearing from a short, stout man in front of him. The plump man wore a large, hooded black cloak, and although Varian was no connoisseur on clothing, he could tell it was crafted of luxurious material, perhaps silk. The man kept very well hidden that which he wore underneath, but Varian could have sworn he saw some sort of jewelry on his garb. No matter how well the man probably tried to hide it, he was evidently quite wealthy.

"Excuse me, but I do believe I overheard that you are in fact mercenaries, is that correct?"

Varian looked back at the others, and then turned to the man in the cloak. He put one arm over the back of his chair as he continued to gaze at him. "I suppose we are." Varian finally replied, much to the apparent joy of the cloaked man.

"Splendid!" He exclaimed, perhaps too loudly for which he intended, causing him to look around the tavern to make sure nobody else heard. After composing himself, he spoke again. "I am in desperate need of assistance, and I have no one else to turn to. My daughter has been taken by brigands. They took her north and are holed up north in a fort just outside of Curilan. I have sent others to try and release her, but none have returned. I implore you, please rescue my daughter!"

In Varian's eyes, the man seemed sincere. It was against his better judgment to usually go directly for the client instead of through contractors, but he seemed like he was distressed and in desperate need of assistance. But Varian knew the others might be tired from just accomplishing one mission, and might have liked to stay in the city for a few nights before going on another job. He disliked the notion of turning down a potential client, but the lives and well-being of his group would always take precedent over the client.

"Sorry, but we've only just returned from a job of our own, and we're tired. I'm sure you can find ano-" Varian was suddenly interrupted by the man in the cloak.

"How much did you earn on your last job?"

Varian looked at him curiously, bringing his mug up to his mouth and taking a gulp of the ale, and replied. "30 silver." The man was quick to respond.

"I will pay you 30 silver to each of you, and an additional 200 to be split amongst the survivors upon completion." He said, unflinchingly. Varian nearly spit out his drink from his mouth as he heard the offer. He place the mug down on the table and eyed the man suspiciously.

"Who are you exactly?" Varian questioned him. The man in the cloak looked around for a moment before replying. "I am... a reputable merchant wishing only to have my daughter returned to me."

"Most 'reputable merchants' don't mind sharing their name," Varian shot back.

"You'll forgive me if I don't share my name, but I came with the job offer under the intention of secrecy," The cloaked merchant explained. "Had I not wanted that, I would have chosen a more... direct way of getting my daughter back to me. This offer shall only come once. Either accept it, or do not."

Varian sighed and leaned back a bit further in his chair. He looked over the faces of the others.

[Assistant]
Drostan Welm / "Osmund Griff" - Dalenham, Ethora

---

Drostan didn't acknowledge Edon beyond a grunt. He didn't have a terribly strong opinion of the man, but there was something about him. Drostan could almost smell the high society on him, as far as his mannerisms went. If he wasn't blue-blooded, as Drostan had the feeling he was, then he was sure that Edon wished he was. His stiffness and formality when talking to Varian and his lack of a greeting for Drostan didn't much help his distaste. But at the moment, it was just that, distaste. He couldn't bring himself to hate him, certainly not yet. At least the man had proved himself a capable warrior. He'd never turn up his nose at the prospect of a skilled halberdier on his flank.

He raised an eyebrow as Edon took the money without counting it. Odd, but he understood. When he first started taking jobs on his own, a few years ago in Falke, he had never wanted to count his money in front of his clients. It felt rude, but after the second time, he'd been cheated he'd made it a habit. As such he made sure to count this, too. But he did it sort of lazily, just opening the bag and doing a quick count with his eyes, shifting the coins around to be sure it looked right. If he was dealing with a contractor, he'd have dumped it out on the table and made a show of counting each coin, but Varian had shown himself a decent sort so far and, besides, company commanders, in general, were good about this sort of thing. Most realized it wasn't wise to cheat the people who traveled, slept, and ate with you, all while armed.

He frowned as the short man found them and started speaking to Varian. Jobs for anonymous clients were always on the shadier side. He had his doubts that the brigands were actually brigands and that the man's daughter was actually his daughter, but there was no way to know for sure unless they did the mission. The way he figured, either they were hired and they did the job themselves, or they turned it down and the man found some even nastier bunch of bastards to do it.

"Could always do with a bit more silver." Drostan said, without much expression. He took a drink of his ale, but kept his eyes on the man. He was rich, plainly. If the robe and the garb concealed beneath didn't give that away, the payment he was offering did. He didn't trust the man, didn't trust the job, didn't trust the money. "Your daughter, sir. What's her name?" He locked eyes with the man, trying to read him. "It's just, the way I figure, might be hard to find her if we don't even know her name."

[User]
Broken Keg Tavern
Dalenham, Ethora

Indeed, Edon had mostly ignored Drostan. It was an unconscious thing rather than an active slight on the man. He had been, and largely still was, focused on his own thoughts.

He hadn't eaten since before the raid on the orcs. Some food sounded good, however, the idea of consuming anything from this place turned his stomach. The camp seemed more cleanly by comparison. He neglected to order anything to drink either. Edon wasn't about to risk his bowels on the local water and wasn't willing to dull his senses with something alcoholic.

For a few minutes, the nobleman's eyes were unfocused as he was lost in thought. When somebody came too close to their table, his blue eyes snapped up at them. As the cloaked figure engaged Varian, Edon's eyes turned to the mercenary leader with critical interest.

Salesman, he thought as he listened to the apparent merchant. The man was a salesman and his pitch was one Edon had heard in nearly every market he had visited. He would have sent him on his way but Varian and Drostan seemed to consider it.

Unhurried, Edon rose from his seat and stood to his full height. From there, he glared down at the portly man and said, "Some details would be nice." His tone had the practiced impatience of a man whose time was worth far more than the life of some merchant. It wasn't the most subtle trick but he knew this man's type; he needed to be reminded of his place.


[System]
Class: Illusionist

Race: Human

Appearance (Picture or Description or Both): In reality, Leval is 5'3" at 132 pounds. He keeps his brown hair cropped short to his head except for a small tuft in the front of his hair, which he takes a lot of pride in. His face is lightly freckled on his tan skin and his eyes are hazel. He has a slight overbite and a rather large nose. However, when Leval has his illusion up he most often appears as a rather idealized, intimidating version of himself.

Power Ranking: C

Electives:
-Magical History
-Potion Making

Character's Characteristics: Leval is a born liar and rather cowardly at times, though he pretends otherwise. However, when the cards are on the table Leval will stand up for those who treat him with respect. He is more curious about the world around him and loves learning about magic and history.

Main Power(s) based on Class: Appearance Illusions. Leval's illusion magic is based in changing his appearance and the way other people perceive him. This power can change from appearing as someone else to illusory shapeshifting where it appears as though he is giant in form or wielding any type of weapon he can imagine. However, he has not mastered controlling the sense of touch so these illusions are easily seen through if someone tries to physically touch one. Knowing that Leval tries to make himself look as intimidating as possible to scare off his opponents.

Backstory (If Any): Leval was born in a small village where he was frequently targeted for his small size. When his magic manifested, his parents took him to a larger village where he could learn to control his power. They were always supportive and Leval takes care to write them as often as he can. Leval devoured all the books he could about magic and history and went off to Rosewood to satisfy his rampant curiousity

Any Other Info, if any: Leval has a pair of gloves with a small lightning opal attached to the top that produce light in a beam in front of him acting as a powerful flashlight. They were a gift from his parents.

[User]
Rowan Delacroix

"Here let me get that." Rowan glanced up at Leval with a confused expression on her face. "What is he-?" The human motioned towards her hand that was exposed from beneath her cloak. She clutched the wrist with her other hand and prepared to turn down the proposal. "It's alright, I..." The vampire's timid voice trailed off as he reached out to her. Rowan cast her eyes away from Leval, nodding and easily giving in to his offer. When his hand clasped around her wrist gently, she felt quite a difference in the temperature of their skin. Warmth spread from the spot he touched, and Rowan watched his movements closely. Her other hand gripped her robe tightly when she felt herself become a little embarrassed. Her eyes shifted uncomfortably around the room as her face warmed up in response. "I don't recall ever feeling this warm so often. Perhaps the atmosphere of the school is altering my ambiance."

Rowan concluded that the school was causing her to heat up accordingly, so she put herself at ease. She eyed Leval's hands as he discarded the used napkin on the table, then he went on to introduce himself. "Oh sorry!" Rowan was startled by Leval's sudden outburst, but she cleared her throat and pulled her hands close to her chest. She nodded her head at him in thanks and waved shyly at the human girl in place of a "good-bye." The vampire rubbed the back of her hand where the streak of red once was while she made her way over to the oak doors behind Leval. When he held the door open for her, she halted in the door way and parted her lips to speak, but she shook her head and proceeded to exit the infirmary. The two of them walked side by side in silence, and they strolled towards the classroom at a relaxed pace.

The training hall was still empty when they had finally arrived. "These battles are quite time-consuming. Will the students have enough energy to participate in the team battles?" Rowan pondered as she made her way back over to the shaded area of the classroom. She sat down and hugged her knees to her chest, resting her chin on her arms.

[Assistant]
Zensei Zaza

"I'm sure if you formally yield we'll be able to walk out of here right now. What say you?" Zephyr asked this as Zensei tugged on the now enforced vines. "I'll never give up for as long as ever!" Zensei yelled and proceeded to spit at the demon. As Zensei did this, Zephyr grew two large Venus flytraps that seemed ready to strike at any moment. Zensei froze in fear, imagining getting slowly digested by such an ugly creature, or possibly ripped apart by the two. He was too scared to remember the shield that would prevent his death, and began to cry. "Okay you win! Now let me down!" Following his plea for freedom, the plants in the room began to disappear and the walls suddenly vanished. Zensei who was now on the floor and salty, gave Zephyr some words to hold onto. "Next time, I wont give in so easily." He slowly arose and turned around, laughing devilishly as he exited through the hallway.

[User]
Zephyr

Zephyr smirked as the pixie yielded in fear, watching him collapse onto the floor. He rose after a short while, and with a threat that Zephyr might have found more threatening if he hadn't just frightened him into submission, Zensei left the room. Zephyr looked down at his outfit, which was still a pristine white and grinned. Nice, first battle won. He sauntered out of the room win his hands in his pockets and headed back to the main hall, curious as to who he would get to fight next. Back in the hall were Leval and the new vampire, among some other students.

He walked to a bench and sat down, waiting for the rest of the students. Hopefully his performance would be good enough for him to move up a rank. He was fairly certain it was his casual attitude that had put him where he was in the first place, and decided to give this place a little more seriousness. Likely his next opponents would be far more challenging.

[Assistant]
Nodah Listig

Desdemona reached out, and caught the blade. It spliced across her palm, and Nodah heard the snake hiss in lent pain, winding its way up its mistress to tend to the injury. And in that moment, Nodah realised he could very well die.

They were not very far apart. When the snake lashed its tail, it unleashed jagged slashes of electricity. Nodah watched as they headed for him, with single-minded purpose. His thoughts raced in his head, as swift as the bolts of lightning crackling over the ground. It is near time for the duel to end. The snake - the Devil incarnate - was coiled almost lovingly around Desdemona's arm. Docile as a pet. Desdemona wishes to win in the worst way. Pettiness is known to thrive where bitterness breeds. Travelling lightning scorched the once-pristine floor, marks of devastation blooming in its wake.

Nodah did not desire death.

But he had thought too long, spent the precious scant seconds he'd had. The lightning reached him, and Nodah's heart dropped as he felt heat wrap itself too familiarly around him, burning close and burrowing to get under his skin. Light encased him; it was all he could see. Through the smothering blanket of blinding light, and incomparable heat, Nodah realised this ordeal should not have lasted more than milliseconds. Lightning strikes were not long-lasting - but was this within the realm of the ordinary? His shirt burst, and Nodah winced, wondering if into flames. Flashover effect, he thought numbly, as heat began to concentrate near his collarbone. Curious, Nodah thought in that detached way one often adopts when thinking in the present, of reality, was only insanity. The phenomenon that could very well spare him had been made more likely with his protective barrier, but why did the back of his neck still burn?

Metal, Nodah thought, slow panic driving a hammer into his heart, accelerating as the heat and pain began to grow. I'm wearing the student identification. A clipped anguished cry tore itself from his lips as his palms spread open beside him, an instinctive movement. A heartbeat after, Nodah felt himself smack against the ceiling as the pulse that had been delivered without thought, but with a primal need to survive, flung him upwards with giant's strength as easily as a limp rag doll. His forehead and knee ached from slamming into the roof, but he no longer felt the crawling sensation of electricity plying at the protective barrier, seeking to slither through some hairline crack or across a metal bridge and roast his flesh. With a shred of renewed relief, Nodah squinted into the fluorescent bulbs that suddenly seemed so dim, the ceiling rushing further and further away from him.

His tailbone struck the floor, before the back of his head. Lifeless and winded, he lay against the cold unforgiving floor in a shirt and trousers that had become ragged strips of singed blackened cloth draped on his person. His heart was aflame, but with a blind scrabble at his chest, his fingers found his scalding pendant, toasted and heated by the lightning's charge. He wrenched the heated necklace, and felt the clasp behind his neck give at his weakened tug. Its burning golden links slipped between his loose fingers to the floor. He could almost vow wisps of steam were rising from it into the cool air. Any energy but a myth, Nodah closed his eyes and let his head drop back to the floor.

[User]
The hall was still empty when they arrived back at the large room. The holograms were still on the screens above, moving every once in a while, but remained silent. 'Are they going to teach us actual combative techniques soon or is this just some type of pretest for the first day?' Rowan moved over the shaded part of the classroom and sat down, huddling her body close together. Leval sat down next to her, giving her some space, sitting with his legs crossed and hands on his knees. Some of the other students were coming out now, Leval saw a large demon that he had seen at his table from breakfast. He looked quite pleased with himself, so Leval assumed his battle had gone well. He made sure to take special note of his arm, in case the added detail would be useful later.

Leval closed his eyes and reached again for his magic. He opened his eyes and saw the Weave before him. Countless strings covered the room, crisscrossing across the room, the students, and things unseen all in one grand shifting pattern that was constantly in flux. Every person in the room so far had a complicated, multicolored pattern of string surrounding them. Some had loose patterns that sagged somewhat in the outlying reaches and yet others had patterns of such tight thread, you could hardly tell there was a pattern at all. In this much confusion, it was close to impossible for Leval to make out any detail about one specific person without directly in front of them. Turning inward, he saw the faintly glimmering, blue strands of his magic. He frowned, a faint glimmer meant he was beginning to run low on magical energy. Still, it would have to be enough.

Leval raised his hands out before him, palms facing upward. Through all of fingers, except his index fingers, strands of shifting color stood out against his skin. He shifted his hands towards himself, so no onlookers could see the minor alteration. He closed his eyes and concentrated. The Weave he had in mind would lack the power of touch, but if he spent enough time and effort on it, would be indistinguishable from reality. He wouldn't be able to maintain it for very long given his reserves of magical power left, but it would buy valuable time. He visualized the weave and with a slight twitch of his fingers began to guide the threads of his power into a sight, a sound, a scent, a taste, and a trick.

When he completed his task, he leaned back against the wall and took a breath, hopefully they would be allowed to get lunch and recover some of their energy before any of the other courses that happened today. He looked over at Rowan, 'What made her comes here I wonder?' He would hopefully learn soon, but he did not ask. Rowan seemed quite shy to Leval, and he didn't want to overwhelm her with questions on the first day at Rosewood. She was rather unlike the other vampires he had known. Back home, the young Vampires had flaunted their powers easily in the poorer areas Leval had lived. There were faded scars on his upper arms from before his own power had manifested itself and he could hide himself from their fangs. They had carried themselves with pride, in the full knowledge that they were predators. Rowan was so radically different, that even though, she had drunk his blood, 'which I gave willingly'  he reminded himself, he had a hard time putting her under the term 'Vampire.' She had been brave, respectful, shy, and most of all, kind. She had sent for the medics and stayed with him until he was well.

Leval then realized that he had been looking at Rowan for quite some time now, and shifted his gaze away looking all around the room for something else to focus on. 'Strange... my focus isn't usually this poor. I wonder if I am still recovering from my healing?' Leval concluded that his healing had caused his attention to flounder, so he put himself at ease.

"This is certainly taking a while huh?"


[System]
---

Age: 28
Universe: Crusader: No Remorse/Regret
Occupation: W.E.C Silencer
Personality: Reserved, quick witted, fearless and practical - these are the summary words used to describe your typical Silencer, an enigmatic super soldier in the employ of the World Economic Consortium. Emotions have little role in such an occupation, and extreme military discipline rules the day.
Weapons:* RP-32 Pacifist Assault Rifle
* BA-41 Peacemaker
* Spider Bombs

Skills* Master of modern and near-future ranged weaponry. (Including laser-based weapons).
* Advanced combat and tactics training.
* Familiar with computer systems (Medium hacking potential.)
* Trained in the use of heavy explosives.

Powers:* Psych Conditioned (Repressed emotions/Robotic thought process)
* Super Soldier (Some genetic enhancements, allowing quicker than average reaction speed)
* Armour made of rigid-polanium plastic-armor plates. (Can take a good pounding from small arms fire)

Other* Memory erased. Has no recollections of background or personal connections beyond his activation as a W.E.C Silencer.
* Trained from a very young age to be a Silencer.
* Efficient killing machine; the best of the best in his respective Universe.
* Game Trailer (The 90's say hi!)

[User] All Miles could really remember was wind. A strong wind in his office. 'Strange' he had told himself. He aso remembered a swirly portal-like matter before him. 'All a strange Dream' is what he thought in the darkness. His bed felt cold and hard, and a cold wind came over him. He opened his eyes and let out a quiet shout. He was in a small room, with lots of others around him. His head was resting against some cobblestones, and his suit was dirty, covered in mud. He slowly got up and crept towards the door. He rattled it slowly at first, but then harder, loudly, it's hinges groaned. He stopped and sat down. "What the hell?" He muttered.

[Assistant]
Fire and death, everywhere one looked. Rebel fighters slumped against walls, blood trails glistening. Spent shell casings crunched underfoot. In the distance, a W.E.C dropship unleashed its fury against something solid - men screamed briefly and then all was quiet.

"Please," the man pleaded, tears and snot streaming down his face. "I have a family! I wasn't with the resistance! I was their prisoner!"

The Silencer tilted his head slightly to one side, and then raised his Pacifist Assault rifle and pointed it at the man's face.

"No, no wait!"

And then there was a bright flash, the Silencer felt himself pulled forwards into something, and at the same time his vision was taken by blackness.

---

The room was cold and poorly lit. The Silencer looked left and right, sensing that he was not alone.

"In the name of the World Economic Consortium, identify yourselves," he said in a neutral, almost robotic tone.

No doubt the resistance had played some kind of trick on him, and if this was the case, he was going to tear their spines out.

[User]
"Johnny, we're almost at checkpoint! We're just about -"
Suddenly a blaring light blinds Gyro and he covers his eyes. His vision all blurred, dark and he felt quite nauseous. Gyro's vision becomes normal after a brief period of time, he clutches at his eyes to make sure everything is fine.
"Ah! What the.. Johnny, are you there! Careful this could be another enemy's stand!" Gyro snaps back into reality and is dumbfounded, he stands straight and his expression is puzzled. He senses a bunch other people with him; his eyes still getting used to this artificial light. He changes his stance and reaches for his steel balls. "What the.. My balls!" He exclaims, he looks around the room quite dazed. "D-did an enemy do this? Am I still in America? Respond if you can hear me, Hot Pants, Johnny?!"

[Assistant]
Miles slighty jumped at the voice "In the name of the World Economic Consortium, identify yourselves." Was what it said. His head turned to look at the source of the voice. And red metal suit stood before him. "Huh?" He muttered, his voice stumbling. He straightened up, and instinctively glared at The Silencer. "Edgeworth, Miles Edgeworth. Prosector." Replied the cold Englishman. He heard another voice, talking to some 'Johnny' almost delirious-like. He snapped "Does this look like America to you, son? Anyways, who's Johnny?" He asked. His face showed no emotion. He had learned to always glare, for extra intimidation.

@Frengo

[User] Gyro rubs his eyes as he hears the voice speak to him. "Johnny's my partner, we were gonna win the Steel Ball Run! Haven't you heard about the race? I was close to the top of the leaderboard, I was gonna win the fifty million dollars!" He opens his eyes and sees a man glaring at him intimidatingly. "Anyway, who are you? Why are you asking stupid questions, what do you want from me? I don't have any Corpse parts. Did the president send you?" Gyro looks around and sees a person in a figure wearing some kind of big red armour. "You! Are you friend or foe? You look like you're in charge here Mr red suit!" Gyro turns slightly towards Miles. "Say, err.. We're trapped in here aren't we? That means I won't win the race, I'm gonna have to find who put us in here and give him a face full of my fist!"

[Assistant] Edgeworth fractionally puffed out his chest. "Miles Edgeworth, prosecutor at law. And I want nothing from you. Does it look like I'm holding us here? Am I waving a gun in your face yelling 'put 'em up! Hands in the air!' Please, I'm a lawyer not a heathen. What I want is to get out, I have a murder trial today and I'm not walking in under prepared! " His shook his head, his grey fringe waving about. "Yes, I believe we are trapped. So no race winning. And no punching, unless you want to get us all dead. Do you want yourself dead? No, you want that money, don't you?" A small smile crept up the side of his face. @anonzep

[User]
"I really need my steel balls, I could probably bust us out of this place in no time." Gyro turns his head, facing the Silencer and then Miles.
"Say, I guess we're all prisoners in this jail place.. My name's Gyro, Gyro Zeppeli. Hm, Miles you got anything on you? Just anything, a pen a rock perhaps? I could utilise the Spin to launch it at the door."

[Assistant]
The Silencer was trained for many things. Highly sensitive insertions, hostage rescue, terrorist elimination, surgical strikes, zero-G combat - anything and everything that was concerned with bringing a fight to an enemy. What he saw before him though, was bewildering, forcing him to remain momentarily silent as he analysed his two 'Cell Mates'.

"A prosecutor?" He asked, "then the resistance has captured me. You must have put many of their comrades to the chair for them to have been so bold as to abduct a W.E.C prosecutor. Interesting."

Turning to what he understood to be a sportsman, the Silencer merely glared. "What use does the resistance have with one such as you? This makes little sense."

[User]
"Resistance? I have no idea what you're on about." Gyro gave the Silencer an awkward glance, unsure where to anchor his eyes. "Is it the resistance that has captured us? I have no clue on what's going on but we must work together!" Gyro turned to the Silencer and pat him on his back. "This makes little sense to me too Mr Metal man, we can definitely use some of your strength, looks like you have plenty." Gyro said in a sly tone. He looked around and noticed that there are lots more prisoners than he had noticed. He adjusted his hat and stroked his beard, he sighed and turned to Miles, still having his arm around the Silencer.
"Say, how about we use our proficiencies to our benefit and turn this joint upside down, Nyo-ho-ho!" Gyro laughs and glances at his other cell mates.

[Assistant]
Lyron smiled as he saw the port. He was finally going to travel back and live with his sister once more. He then made his way towards the port and the ship that was heading towards Valm. All was peaceful and everyone was inside their homes celebrating the death of Grima. Despite Grima not being summoned there, per se, they all felt the chaos he summoned and thus had a celebration for his defeat.

But then there was a commanding voice and a portal opened. He was pulled in by this strange wind and everything went blank.

The next thing the Manakete knew was he was in what seems to be a cell. He looked around. Everything was dimly lit but he could perfectly hear other voices. He stood up and started to feel for his Divinestone. His eyes widened as he felt nothing on his pocket. His sealed power was gone. "Who took my stone!?" He angrily exclaimed but it wasn't aimed towards those inside. It was as if he was talking to some other force. Give it back!" It was the most important thing in the world for him, next to his sister. The lost of his stone made it easy for him to forget that he was in an unfamiliar terrain when he was just in his own continent just mere seconds ago.

[User]
Heavy looked at the massacre he was causing. "Who send all of these babies to fight?", he said and chuckled. He looked back. "You are great doct-" As soon as the D came out, the Medic's head came off, and Heavy became aware that Blu Demoman had respawned. "Nooo". Heavy scouted for the Demoman, even though scouting is not heavy's job. He turned around, and looked at the black cyclops. "Raaaaaaaargh" he yelled, but as he did, a swirling portal appeared, and Heavy was sucked in, leaving his team behind. Only blackness.

Heavy woke up on cold, stone floor. He looked at his clothes. "Heavy is.. dirty". He looked around and spotted various people in weird clothes. He was about to lay fire on them, but he realized he didn't have Sasha. "WHERE IS SASHA?" he yelled.

[Assistant]
Ren held her dagger in her small hand, her green eyes glaring at the sleeping man in front of her. She slowly crept towards him, reading herself to make the kill. She raised her blade and aimed for his chest, but before it plunged into his flesh, a portal appeared behind her. Ren pivoted towards the source, now standing, wide-eyed at the thing before her. The force began to pull her in, but nothing else. In her panic, she grabbed a lamp, then was pulled inside.
In the unknown room she found herself in, Ren tucked away her dagger and held onto the lamp. Other's were in here with her, which wasn't a good sign. She slowly moved herself to what she thought was a corner, but blindly bumped into a rather large man who looked ready to tear her head off.
She hugged the lamp, unsure of what to do in this situation, since attempting to kill him didn't seem like the best thing to do at the moment.

[User]
"Enough," the Silencer uttered, as the bizarre situation continued to escape his cognitive grasp. "Let's get out of here."

Looking over at what could only be described as a giant ape (the Heavy), the Silencer nodded at him. "You there, assist me in getting this door open."

Leaning his weight against the door, the Silencer started to push; metal creaked, and the hinges started to rattle under the pressure. He exerted more and more of his strength against it, pausing briefly to take in some more air, before having another go.

"This obstacle is robust, but it is not invincible," he remarked between grunts.

[Assistant] "I don't believe breaking that door open would be a very good idea," Ren tilted her head to the side, "Sir?" she continued to hug the lamp as she moved away from both the door and the giant. At this point, she was just waiting for something to explode. That's when she noticed, her weapons were gone. Now the lamp in her hands was the only the reminder of home. Ren did not like this place, and she was unsure of how she felt about the others here. Her eyes had already adjusted to the darkness, and she found five others in the room. That was five too many.

[User]
The Silencer stopped pushing for a moment, and turned his head slowly towards a red headed woman in strange attire. She held a lamp, and although passed for would have been beautiful, the only thing the Silencer saw was treachery.

"And how would you know, civilian? Are you familiar with this facility?" He asked, his left hand involuntarily moving towards his empty pistol holster. "Answer me quickly, that's an order."

[Assistant] Civilian?! Ren straightened herself and tucked the lamp under one arm. She looked the Silencer in what she figured was his eyes and glared. "From my experience with prisons, it's never a good idea to attempt to break out on your first day. This prison, looks to be more advanced than the ones I work with, so it would have more advanced ways to prevent a prisoner's escape," her glare seemed to drill a hole in his helmet, clearly showing her opinion towards this suit of armor ordering her around.

[User]
"Your concerns are noted, civilian," the Silencer responded, "but sometimes the last thing a captor expects, is for their captives to launch a fully fledged assault within hours of their incarceration. If we can eliminate this obstacle, then we just have to exterminate whoever awaits us on the other side."

He stood back to face the whole group, and placed his hands on his hips. "Look, for some reason the Resistance has gathered us all here. I don't know why, I don't know how, but I can tell you that they don't often let their prisoners live long." He patted his chest with a clenched fist. "My armor is made from the latest is cutting edge W.E.C ballistic materials. Once the door is open, you can all stay behind me. Do as I say, and you'll all make it out of here."

And into a W.E.C interrogation chamber.

The Silencer then motioned to the red head, "bring that light source over here, so that I can inspect this door. Every obstacle has a weak point, it's all a matter of finding it."


[System]
Character Name: Saito Souji
Race: Human
Age: 24
Personality: Itouchi is a somewhat reserved individual, as one might expect from a young Japanese man, however he has a particular sense of judgement. He is prone to making his own conclusions about other people, and while he may not act on those conclusions without further observation, he can break that rule should the person in question be of distaste to him. In particular, those who treat others horribly, who act in service of only themselves, or if they act childishly and waste people's time. Normally he would simply avoid them, but there are times when he may confront them if he believes that not doing so would seriously harm the group.

Despite his rather strong sense of judgement, he's a friendly person, though perhaps due to being reserved, acts somewhat formally most of the time. There are times when around close friends he may act much less so, making more jokes and acting somewhat more carefree. Perhaps something one might notice is a particularly fondness for the Shinsengumi, and though it is not as obvious as it used to be, the leftovers of that more pronounced phase of his remain in his name.

History: Itouchi like many young men graduating university, would find themselves applying for a company and then working there as a salaryman. He was rather fortunate to find a good company, having had a rather normal upbringing. It was this somewhat normal lifestyle combined with the more lonely lifestyle of a salaryman that perhaps pushed him towards Emerald Odyssey, seeking something a little more exciting between work days.

He started playing roughly three or four years ago, and for the first few of those he became an accomplished raider, perhaps the very best for one of the expansions, but stopped after realizing the stress it was beginning to put him under. Though he is thankful for those years as it has shaped him into a more than competent player, both overall skill with the game, and when it comes to playing with other people which was a central component. From then on he normally just played the game with friends, only delving into difficult content on a casual basis.

Class(es):
* Samurai - [Katana] - A melee DPS class that utilizes a Katana. A swift and agile class boasting high critical rate and critical damage that aims to move through droves of enemies with very few strokes of the blade. As a drawback, their damage if they do not land a precise strike would be more than underwhelming, and defensive capabilities are nearly none, preferring to avoid blocking with their weapon. They have access to perhaps the fastest set of weapon skills called Battoujutsu, where the samurai may resheathe their weapon, gathering up their focus and spiritual energy before unleashing it in an impressive display of blinding speed.
* Kagemusha - [Nodachi] - Meaning "shadow warrior", a tank class that utilizes a Nodachi. In particular they make use of shadowy decoys to gain the attention of the enemy and even confuse them, as well as creating veils of shadow over their allies in order to hide them or guard them from attack. Every shadow generated costs a portion of the Kagemusha's health pool, however should these decoys slay enemies or deal sufficient damage, they can return to the Kagemusha to restore their health.
* Ashigaru - [Matchlock Firearms] - A ranged DPS class that utilizes matchlock firearms. Though it has a low firing rate compared to many if not all ranged classes, it boasts high damage per shot, and the highest critical damage of ranged classes. Despite being a ranged DPS class, it is frequently seen fighting in close quarters, only retreating to fire off their fatal shots. The Ashigaru also use matchlock handguns in these situations, with skills based around evasion and breaking armor. This class is also known to be a popular secondary, as the handguns can be used alongside any weapon that can be wielded with one hand.

Non-Combat

* Blacksmith - Though he doesn't delve a lot into crafting, he found himself making use of blacksmith frequently to maintain his weapons. He can craft new ones too, but for some reason the best weapons he can craft are all for his classes. Blacksmith as a profession is quite popular as people need or want new shiny gear all the time, and while he is not a reputed crafter, the katana that he can craft are of top quality... And nothing else.

Other:
* His character name Saito Souji is a combination of Hajime Saito and Okita Souji.
* Kagemusha refers to a political term coined during the Sengoku period meaning "shadow warrior", and means to refer to body doubles, thus the protective nature of the class.
* The coat he wears is obtained from PvP, and was a limited run at the time. Very few players have it.
* He has a small player home in the eastern region.

[User]
Myrtle Bramblewood
Sen Rynta — Wellspring Park

Oh no, it doesn't work!

Myrtle could only watch with exasperation as one by one, the adventurers she had made her passionate speech to left.

Aah, my charisma check failed! I knew I shouldn't have done that!

In the end, only a small portion of them remained. And she wasn't sure whether they were there because they agreed with her words or they were simply curious to see the conclusion to the incident.

And then the Titan woman spoke, insulting her heartfelt plea to the masses. How dare she!

"H-hey, I was just trying to help! I'm not like you who hit a man just because he stared!" Oh, she was not going to let her have the high ground!

The Titan woman then walked away, seemingly done with the conversation.

"Yeah, that's right! Keep running!" Myrtle smirked, folding her arms in a victory pose. She won the argument! Why else would she leave?

Now, only two men remained — the PC the woman argued with and the NPC who was still out cold on the ground.

"Hmm, you got a point." Myrtle tilted her head. "Well, let's test it!" She clasped her hands together and smiled. "We have a live NPC here after all!"

She walked over to the unconscious man and crouched, before shaking his body back and forth. "Hey, Mister! Wake up! You're not dead, are you? Oh, please tell me you're not! Or else I've been touching a corpse and that's just… eww!"

"Miss, is something the matter?"

She looked up and saw that Azure had opted to approach her. It seemed she wasn't content in just staying back and letting her mistress be involved in whatever situation was happening right now.

Oh, what an adorable, loyal maid! There's no way she cannot be sapient! She acts like a real maid perfectly!

Myrtle stood up and rested her hand on her shoulder.

"Look! Here's my maid, Azure! Azure, tell him that you're perfectly sapient, just like me and him!"

The maid cocked her head to the side. "Excuse me, Miss? Whatever do you mean?"

"Sapient! It means you're a thinking, knowing being! Look, just introduce yourself to him!" Myrtle pointed at the standing man. "Tell him your backstory while you're at it! Your past before you work for me!"

The maid turned to look in his direction. She sighed. She had no idea what her mistress was thinking. Still, if it was her order, then it would only be proper for her to do it.

"Greetings." She gave a curtsy. "My name is Azure. Azure McMillon. I was born as a daughter of a prostitute, before being sold off to a servant agency where I took my lessons in this occupation. When I was of age, and ready to work as a maid, I was purchased by my mistress here."

Myrtle's smile vanished.

Wait, what did she just say?

That backstory… that wasn't in the game at all! And it was so dark too! She was born as a prostitute's daughter and then sold off as a child slave by her own mother! And then I—

I… I…

Oh God…

I had bought a slave!

[Assistant]
Kokoma
Aluvera - City Streets

---

Kokoma would heft the spear over her shoulder, the banner tied to it waving gently as she would watch the harpies meet their demise. The blast of magical energy was quite impressive. So the little elf was a mage, huh? Kokoma would then walk up to the harpy, smiling in a fairly...overly friendly manner as she'd twirl the spear, and whack the harpy on the butt with the hilt of the spear.

"Go on, get outta here! Attack this place again and well...ehehe, I suppose having another harpy as my pet would be fun~" She might have under other circumstances, made an attempt to befriend or 'tame' the harpy, as it were, but for now she just wanted to figure out what was going on other than well...being attacked by monsters and what not. So after delivering that ultimatum to the harpy, the Shenke would turn back towards Sefira.

"Wah...heey, you're actually pretty awesome, huuuh~?" Kokoma would walk over to Sefira. "Dunno why you were so nervous." That just left what else to do now, though. She supposed she should go after the harpies, huh? Didn't want them to get away...well, luckily she could easily chase after them, couldn't she? "What'cha gonna do now?" Kokoma would ask as she'd watch the harpies flee. Lets see...normally in game 'calling' her mounts was done with just a skill, and the animation of a whistle...so maybe if...

Whatever Sefira would respond with, Kokoma would put her hand to her lips, a sharp, high pitched whistle echoing through the area...a few seconds would pass, before one could hear the sound of...hoofbeats? Well, not really hooves, but it was close. From down the street, Sefira could perhaps see something a bit odd. More monsters? A large, horse like creature covered in tough, hard leathery skin and a rocky hide. Kokoma didn't seem too concerned as it'd run up, nearly knocking over Sefira as it'd run up to Kokoma and start nuzzling her.

"Wah-H-hey down boy! Ahaha, so you are here!" The monster would huff affirmatively. "Tatl and Teel doing alright?" Another huff of confirmation. "Great! Anyways," She'd hop onto the monsters back with a surprisingly swift motion. She would then, look down to Sefira with a grin and hold out a hand. "I can give ya a ride, but the fee is gonna be your name~"

[User]
This girl seriously didn't take a single thing seriously, did she?

Still... her spell had really worked. Only one of the harpies had gotten away. Sefira couldn't help but be proud of the fact she'd actually executed one of her spells.

Only now it was real.

Maybe that was a silver lining? She was physically a completely different person, but she was also capable of doing magic.

Seeing one of the other player's beasts suddenly charge up and nearly in real life was a bit of a shock, too, and the petite elf found herself reflexively clutching her staff in both hands, tensing for a few moments as she leaped back with a yelp.

"H-hey!"

Realizing how irrational it was to be scared of the beast given it belonged to Kokoma, Sefira took a deep breath and forced herself to relax a little. At least, as much as she could knowing there were so many monsters around. Where had they all come from, anyway? Back when Emeral Odyssey was just a game, something like this never would have happened out of the blue.

"W-we should probably try and fend off the monsters, we can't just sit and do nothing..." commented Sefira as she stepped forward. The other player wanted her name in exchange for a ride?

"Hmph, fine," she began, looking away, "Takeyama Mats-"

Realizing she almost said her full, real, masculine name, the blonde girl froze for a moment.

There was no way letting this girl know that was a good idea.

Hoping that Kokoma didn't hear her properly, Sefira cleared her throat.

"Sylvanbelle. Sefira Sylvanbelle."

@PKMNB0Y

[Assistant]
Saito Souji
Aluvera - Alleyway

---

The battle seemed to go apace, he found himself chasing down a few monsters in the course the chaos, though for the most part it seemed those who could not defend themselves were out of harm's way, and the battle had approached a point where it was time to clean up, though curiously he found himself in an alleyway.

There were people here, hiding. Though it did not seem at all unusual, at first, but then he recognized one of the game's story NPCs here going about healing those who had run here. It was strange to see them acting on their own like this when he was used to them standing around waiting for interaction, especially when they approached the newcomers. He listened to her talk and...

"Before the battle...?", that was a curious detail, one he muttered to himself. Did this mean she would depart as soon as this was over? There were a myriad of questions he wanted to ask, such as why they were here, who the attacker was, what was going on, why this was no longer a game... The last one though may best be investigated instead. He doubted that these characters would know.

"Alright, then I suppose I should ask about this attack. Who was that, and why have they attacked?", he asked.