[System]
Age: 23

Race: Oni

Appearance: That one took a while...
Standing at about 6' tall, Masaru's build still only somehow manages to show a fraction of the power that he's able to put out. While not training his body or taking the occasional small drink, he usually dons a red haori over his upper body. He generally retains the shorts, though. He's not quite stocky, but not quite lean, either. What he IS, though, is well-built. When in 'demon mode', Masaru gains a pair of black horns, about an inch in height, that protrude from the top of his head, and his skin turns a shade of red that his race is most known for. During the colder months, steam may also become visible upon and during activation, though to no extreme extent.

Personality: While it would be apt to call Masaru a bit of a musclehead, that term doesn't quite do him justice. While he DOES love to train and fight, those terms do not define him as a whole. While he may be incredibly hotblooded at times and jump into action at the drop of a hat, he is also a generally jovial guy who can relax just as well as he can work. The influx of humans around the time he was born also led to him picking a few more tricks on the side. While he is honest and loyal and generally doesn't like being tricked (or tricking others, for that matter), he's not unwilling to outwit an opponent in the style of a famous Hamon user if it comes down to it. Honestly, though, at the end of the day he really just wants a good fight.
Given the nature of oni and his upbringing, Masaru also has a tendency to make random small talk if he's bored out of his mind. He also loves tests of strength, but he's not a complete idiot and won't go into something that is clearly out to get him. That isn't to say, though, that he isn't curious at times...

Abilities: As an oni, Masaru has strength that transcends that of most humans, and is able to do things that seem absurd to most (for example, punching boulders into rubble). He also has an increased regenerative capability, but depending on the wound(s) and his condition this may diminish over time. There's also that classic oni alcohol tolerance, but with a lack of alcohol that's not going to be relevant any time soon. As an oni, he also has what he calls 'demon mode' (though the name varies among the race as a whole); when active, Masaru seems to grow a pair of horns from his head and his skin seems to tinge itself a shade of red and become increasingly heated the longer it remains active. During this time, Masaru has increased strength and agility, at the cost of a 'cooldown period' during which his stamina and strength are reduced. He does retain his sanity during this time, though, at the very least.
Outside of that, Masaru is also well-versed in having to fight in hand-to-hand combat, often matching a few of the more experienced fighters blow-for-blow (though he also loses, more often than not). He has also dabbled slightly in the ways of blacksmithing, though he grew tired of it in about a half a year or so. At the very least, he knows the bare basics of the craft, but cannot forge anything particularly noteworthy.

Salvaged Item: A pair of steel knuckles, rounded off at the ends.

History: Masaru comes from a long line of oni, who have themselves had a pretty love/hate relationship with humans... And well, pretty much every race they come into contact with. Though born in the era of peace, the young oni never really found any 'peace' at home. An influx of people from all over the continent began to mingle about every which way, tinging Masaru's ideals with a sense of wonder and creativity. He was still raised in classic oni fashion, though; alcohol, brawls, and healthy competition made up a good chunk of his childhood, and even as a child he could match the strength of a fully grown human. This strength was honed further as the concept of 'training regimens' became spread throughout the town he was born in, and so he began to build his strength.
His efforts came to fruition one day when he entered the most prestigious annual fighting tournament of Shoushu at age 22. Seen as the 'dark horse' of the tournament, Masaru came in fifth place by the end of it all, which was notable considering how many of his opponents were more experienced than he. This prowess at his age was what caused him to be chosen to be among the representatives of his nation, a fact that he has since held with honor in his heart... Regardless of the circumstances he now finds himself in.

Nation of Origin: Shoushu, a land of both men and oni.

Nation Lore: As mentioned prior, humans and oni did not have... The best of relationships. Or the worst, actually. Shoushu, as a whole, is fairly mountainous, which leads to a strange bit of convenience for both sides; the humans, more often than not, lived on the arable land down below, while the oni staked their claim in the mountains above. Humans were often fearful of the strength of the oni, who always lived so close that it probably wouldn't take more than a day to make a trip up and down any specific mountain from its base. This, of course, led to war.
Fighting was... On and off. On some occasions, the humans would win and take some land, while on others, the oni would win and push the humans back. It was, in the strangest sense, a perpetual stalemate.
This was before any of the other nations came into play, though. Once humans began to travel throughout the land, they found others like themselves, and so they traded. They gained technology, arms, and most importantly: magic. From then on, the tides of war slowly shifted in favor of the humans, who were rapidly descending upon the oni and methodically taking them out. Unwilling to go down without a fight, though, the oni sent out envoys to seek help from other races; it wasn't long after until both sides of the nation were involved in the political turmoil that had consumed the continent.
When every other nation fell to peace, the residents of Shoushu had to uneasily lay down their arms. Animosity remained high, however, until the king of Tawken forcefully intervened (citing it to be 'within the nation's best interests') and assigned a group of advisors to each side to attempt to broker a peace deal from which everyone benefitted.
As things turned out, the oni were absolutely AMAZING at brewing alcohol, on par with that of the dwarves (the two races still compete every so often) and found friends in the ogres and orcs (who also turned out to love strength). Because of these quick-forming alliances, the humans of the nation had little choice but to accept one of the most valuable economic resources there. From then on, the relationship between the two races began to defrost (though once again with a bit of force thanks to the efforts of the king of Tawken) and we are left with what we have today.
As a nation, Shoushu is well known for their metalworking and alcohol production, which often puts them in competition with the dwarves, who take pride in their work just as much as the oni do in theirs. Every other race loves the competition, though, because it means higher quality products and cheaper prices. What sets them apart is the metal that they use, though; while dwarves have access to and can make outstanding works with mythril and oricalcum that can pierce the strongest defenses, the oni have access to what they call 'star steel' (which is not, in fact, found in meteorites as people so often claim it to be). Rather than the ultimate offensive metal, it would be more apt to call it the ultimate defensive metal; when the armor of the oni meets the weaponry of the dwarves, only the skill of the smiths and the strength of the wielders can determine the outcome. 'Star steel' has the ability to mitigate even the strongest of blows otherwise, though it is still prone to the regular faults of the designs of the armor itself.

Other: Actually couldn't care less about alcohol, but admits it is occasionally enjoyable. Prefers to eat a balanced diet if possible.

[User]
~Charlotte Lachance~

Charlotte simply pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to contain a headache. She was failing pretty miserably. Goddamn it Gabriel. Why the hell was he always such a pain to deal with? At least he sounded somewhat concerned for her safety, but that that was nullified by the fact she was pretty sure he was 'checking her out' as they might say. "I'm fine, really! Swallowing a gallon of sea water is great for someones health!" She grunted in reply as he...did whatever it was he was doing. "Go help them move stuff for camp, will you? Make yourself useful and quit undressing me with your eyes, creep."

With that, she sighed, shaking her head and turning to the Oni.

"Sorry about him. The deacon insisted he come with me." Not important though, she had been asked a question. "And yes, Charlotte LaChance. Alchemist from Astril. To answer your question - unfortunately, no. I was more interested in seeing if I could find any useful herbs or berries here. It'd be bad if someone tried to eat something poisonous. Found some berries and some nuts that seemed edible, though so that's a good thing." She sighed. "So we're going to have to look deeper if we're going to find a good place to camp. Or at least better than I did."

[Assistant]
~Yukine Aroi~

Yukine gave a toothy grin when Gabriel addressed her as a beast-folk. Some kitsune would have found that offensive, as it was often used as a derogatory term that lumped them in with other animals and made them seem like lawless beasts. Yukine, however, could tell that there was no condescension in the man's voice, so she decided to politely correct him instead of taking offense. "I'm a kitsune, actually," she said, her voice friendly, but serious. She hoped that he would realize that she didn't like being called a "beast" without spelling it out for him. "And most of the people back home didn't care that I decided to go, but Ayato-sama says it's important to keep up with the other races, so I volunteered."

Yukine then giggled as Gabriel began to check out Charlotte's body. In Ayabukuro, people were not subtle about expressing interest in one another, but she found the way he used fake concern to look at parts of her that clearly weren't injured to be quite funny. Charlotte apparently found it substantially less amusing. Then her ears perked up when Charlotte introduced herself as the alchemist. "Oh! You're the bottle lady!" She quickly reached into her robes and pulled out her memento from the serpent battle. "I found a snake head!" She thrust it forward, beaming as if she was presenting the alchemist with the philosopher's stone, and gave no further explanation. It seemed obvious to the kitsune that Charlotte would be able to make use of it in her "science stuff."

[User]
-Lilita-

As the peppy girl slowed her pace to keep the others ahead of her - she figured Masaru was leading them, or someone else back there at least - she started to pay more attention to the scraggy-kept man, who started checking the alchemist out. Lilita gave a nervous giggle, subtly hoping he wouldn't start looking around herself. While she didn't want to be rude, the alchemist's chest was rather...flat compared to her's, and Lilita didn't have the strength or the heart to ward him off if he did. So, she instead simply watched on as the Kitsune extended her hand outward to give a snake-head to the alchemist, trying to stay a small distance, but close enough to still be a part of their lives.

The box she was carrying still felt rather light, and her worries intensified with each step. I don't want to be known as the girl who brought nothing to camp... She thought to herself, clutching the box like it was her lifeline.

[Assistant]
Turk was lost.

Bugger.

It'd been a while since he'd seen any of the group, after he went looking for something in the woods. Why had he even gone in here, again? It was pointless. The people back on the beach could have built a new ship and sailed for home by now. He was just about to give up hope, to go native and become a scary lizard man in the woods, when he suddenly went through a bush and was back on the beach, only a few meters away from everyone else.

Turk was completely baffled, but he didn't want to tell anyone he was just wasting his time, and got lost, so he just slunk back into the group and began some busy work. He inwardly wondered how long it was until night fall.

[User]
Masaru let out a sigh as he heard the report. Well, that was really a bit of a shame; at the very least, someplace that looked as it was stable enough and easy to clear out would've been fine. But... Nothing? Really?

"Ah... Damn, that's a bit of a shame, then. But hey, complaining about it's gonna get us nowhere; let's start moving now, then, I guess. As long as we remember our way back, there shouldn't be any issues, right? I mean, we got fish here, after all," he said, shrugging as he began to move further inland. Though... Right, this was still gonna end up a port or something if the chance came up. Making it close enough to the beach to make it easily accessible, while also making it deep enough inland to sustain crops and avoid any possible floods or whatever...

It was honestly more difficult than he'd thought it would have been. The job would've probably been simpler had the ship not been wrecked like it was now, but...

Well, it was still too early to complain. For now, the priority was going deeper in.
...
And maybe a source of fresh water. That'd be nice. Real nice.

---

The trees along the coast of the beach had long since left them, and now all Masaru could make out were deciduous trees left and right. At least, that's what they seemed to be; they certainly weren't the palm trees that had dotted the very outskirts of the border between the sand and the soil. But hey, if anything, the change was nice enough. Even if the trees were actually rather unfamiliar, at least they seemed to be slightly less prone to falling over. Even if he hadn't a clue on how to build a house... Wood was a good place to start, right?

"Ah... This place fine for now? My arms are starting to get a bit tired from carrying all this stuff around, y'know?" he asked whoever had decided to follow, placing the goods down near the trunk of a tree.


[System]
Home Universe/Name of Franchise:  Mass Effect.
Ship Class: Cruiser
Role: a cruiser, it's basically the frontline fighter of space combat.
Physical Description/Image:
Physical Size (roughly):707 Meters
Armament/Complement (roughly):
* Kinetic Barriers
* Ablative Armor
* 3 tubes of Disruptor torpedos.
* 2 tubes of Javelin Torpedos
* Standard FTL drive
* 6 GARDIAN class anti-fighter, anti missile turrets
* Heat dispersal units.
* 1 bow mounted Kinetic accelerator. This is used in the opening of combat, fulfilling a very much long distance role. After all Isaac Newton is the deadliest mother fucker in space.
* 60x Broadside Kinetic accelerator 15 for it's 2 decks, starboard, and portside.
* Standard Sensors
* Standard military grade thrusters

History of the Ship:The Glasgow is a York-class cruiser. One of the largest cruisers in the Systems Alliance Navy. 5 decks in total. 1 Officers deck, 2 gun decks, engineering deck, and a hangar/storage deck. The top most gun deck also serves as the command deck, and both gun decks have crew quarters. The Glasgow was handed to one Captain Travis Elliot shortly before the Battle of the Citadel, and attached to fifth fleet. The Cruiser had barely been out of dry dock, before it was thrust into combat. They received a call from a system alliance commander, turned spectre for aid in citadel space. The fearsome geth were being led by a spectre turned traitor named Saren. So the fifth fleet was sent through the relays into the battle of the citadel.

The crew were put through their trial of fire, helping engage geth ships, even landing a couple. But the order came in, the fifth fleet was to protect The Destiny Ascension, where the council of the Citadel were currently aboard. This cost them a third of fifth fleet, and Travis Elliot many friends. But in the end, The council was saved. Paving way for humanity to enter the council of citadel space. But this left a bitter taste in some of the members of fifth fleet, who saw the loss of life as nothing more than political maneuvering.

After the battle of The Citadel. The Glasgow, and the fifth fleet ended up getting a few peaceful moments when they were set to guard against Batarian slavers, and their raids on systems alliance planets. But it didn't take long for the Batarians to go oddly silent, and the raids to mysteriously cease. A couple months later they found their answer. A new threat, The Reapers. A species of sentient AI had come to wipe them out. All of the fleets humanity had to offer tried to slow them down, but ultimately once they reached the sol system they were forced onto the run. The Fifth Fleet was scattered to the wind in a hostile galaxy. Hit, and run attacks worked well against The Reapers, but they were too strong. They were losing.

The crew of The Glasgow were tired, they had been pushed to their limits, and they were lost. But then the order came. "Take back Earth." So they hopped aboard the closest relay, and joined onto The battle of Earth. Travis had never seen so many ships in his life. Every race in the galaxy was there to help retake Earth, but still The Reapers were heavily favored in this battle. They were just there to stall so The Crucible, a secret weapon designed to take on The Reapers could fire. It was here the crew of The Glasgow proved their worth, helping screen shuttles to enter the planet, and even deploying their own ground compliment. Holding off The Reapers, with the aid of a sister ship.

The battle for Earth was one of the most intense battles the crew had ever been in, and The Glasgow did sustain damages during it. With multiple hull breaches they couldn't hold out much longer, and they thought it was the end. Their one hope had gone radio silent, the ground crews were reporting heavy casualties, the fleets were reporting heavy damages, or casualties. Then it happened. The crucible fired, and a pulse swept through the battlefield The Reapers just stopped fighting, and the relay's went dark. Leaving The Battlefield eerily quiet for a few moments. Then the cheers came, and it echoed so loudly through the communications systems that the crew were sure they'd go deaf. But shortly after the celebration, the reality sunk in. Billions dead, multiple ships lost, millions of military personnel lost, and to top it all of The Relay's went dark. They were now isolated.

It's been two years since The Battle of Earth. The other species tried to do what they could to get back home mostly opting for using their FTL drives. While the Systems Alliance worked on rebuilding Earth, and eventually even got the Relay's running again. Three ships were chosen at random to enter the Relay to see if they worked as they used to, to go restore order and peace to the the human systems around them, and search for the council. The Glasgow is one of the three, sent because The Systems Alliance isn't sure if The Reapers are still waiting for them out there, and The Glasgow is more than happy to go.
Notable Crew:
* Captain Travis Elliot:  Travis Elliot is a former Alliance marine, turned naval officer because of a combat injury. He is an exemplary officer, who cares for the lives of his crew more than his own. He'd do anything to keep them safe, even if it meant sacrificing his pride, and joy The Glasgow. Also considered a competent officer in his own right. Keeping the crews spirits high after first contact with The Reapers.
* Major Adrian Laskey:  Out of Armor.
 Armored. Adrian Laskey has been aboard The Glasgow since it first left dry dock serving as the commanding officer of the Marine detachment aboard the vessel. A veteran of many battles, a marine officer, and most importantly an efficient leader, and loyal to boot. He serves as Captain Elliot's voice, and is also the XO of The Glasgow.
* 1st LT Sarah Wilkes: Sarah Wilkes is in charge of the small detachment of N7 Special Forces operators on board The Glasgow. Attached to it for it's foray through the newly opened relays. A veteran of several classified missions, and was part of the ground forces left on Earth during The Reaper invasion. Using her biotic abilities, and extensive skills in combat to run guerrilla attacks against reaper held targets.

Optional, but helpful:
Unique Technology:Mass accelerator tech, mass effect generators, kinetic barriers for both ships, and infantry, element zero tech.
Crew Size:  515 (400 sailors, 100 marines, 15 N7 Operatives) Also carrying a compliment of 4 Mantes gunships, 10 Kodiak Shuttles 2 Mako IFV's Nicknamed The Jumping Bean, and The Fleabite respectively.
Faction/Operator/Owner: Human Systems Alliance

[User]
Aboard the Daedalus

Both Jason and the members of the Scorch guard looked about confused. One moment, they were in the starfighter tower, preparing an ambush for the enemy clones, the next they were aboard the bridge of what appeared to be the Daedalus, though the exact means of how was lost on them. When the Colonel asked for the bridge to be cleared, Jason nodded to the Scorch Guard, who followed Sheppard while he turned to the Colonel. "I know I might not get the most satisfactory answer here, but...what just happened?"

---

Meanwhile, the Resurgence had already begun it's own evasive maneuvers as V-Wings and ARC-170s shift targets to engage the new arrivals. XO Kol'Zife was issuing orders as fast as he could, the point defense turrets strafing the strange craft that got too close. They had come in with hyperdrive signatures, but no one had really thought about it, ghost signatures happened on occasion. And that mistake had seen one of their new allies slaughter, the large biological ship eviscerated in a powerful beam of energy. A pair of missiles from a V-Wing clipped the stabilizer of one of the strange ships, but it lined up it's shot anyways and fired, the laser barely missing the Resurgence, though shields depleted by fifteen percent. Getting on the COMS, he practically yells into them. {All boarding units, fall back to the Resurgence! I repeat, fall back!} Jerus frowned as the message came through and looked to the others, who were all gathering around the turbo lift. After a moment's debate, he nods to himself and boards a turbolift.

"I'm going on to finish this mission. All 302nd units are to fall back and see if you can secure a few Y-Wing hyperdrives along the way, but the rest of you can decide for yourselves if you want to come. I won't force you. Sounds like we're under attack out there."

[Assistant]
Eri 'Moram - Aboard the Imperial Venator

---

Eri started to snarl, though directed at no one in particular. Much like Jerus, she too had received her warnings from the Immaculate Aegis. New hostile ships had arrived, and they were targeting the ship they were boarding. Even without that warning, the shaking they had all felt earlier made that obvious enough.

After just a moment of thought, Eri opened a channel back to the other team waiting in the hangar. "Board the phantoms and get them out of this ship. We are evacuating the ship. Cloak the phantoms and bring them around just outside this ship's bridge atop one of the two largest towers."

With her orders having been given, Eri stepped into the lift alongside Jerus, followed by the rest of her team. She grumbled under her breath for a moment as she looked down at him, paying particular attention to his armor. "Can that suit be sealed to a vacuum, Human?"

Eri intended to stay in this ship no longer than absolutely necessary.

[User]
Travis Elliot - The Glasgow

The new ships arrived out of nowhere, and attacked the Daedalus. The Glasgow had to be quick to react, if they lost The Daedalus they lost their ticket out of the system. They'd be sitting ducks without them, and dying in an unknown universe didn't exactly seem pleasant to him, and probably not to his crew either. "Calculate shots, and use the GARDIAN lasers. Move in closer to our friendly." He ordered, his crew members jumping to follow his orders, to the captain of The Glasgow things just got very interesting.

---

Sarah Wilkes - Aboard enemy vessel - Situation FUBAR

The group had managed to push onto the bridge, but then the ship shook. Radio messages from The Glasgow began to relay into their feed that new contacts had entered the system. With things going to hell in a hand basket, Sarah just sighed relaying orders through her helmet feed to any personnel still on board. "Anyone able to make it back to the shuttle, get back there now all, those who can't report to the bridge we're hitching a ride. Objectives are to be considered fulfilled until proven otherwise. Stay alive, Wilkes out." She turned to her gathered allies. "Mind if we hitch a ride, don't know if our shuttles can get here fast enough to get us off the bridge." She asked the assembled races.


[System]
Traveling Thief

Level 4

---

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

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

| VIT -- 18 | 55% | BLADES -- D
(-5 Accuracy/-1 Might)

| MGT -- 3 | 35% | POLEARMS -- E
(-15 Accuracy/-0 Might)

| SKI -- 5 | 50% | AXES/BLUNT -- E
(-20 Accuracy/-0 Might)

| SPD -- 17 | 70% | BOWS/RANGED -- E
(-20 Accuracy/-2 Might)

| SRT -- 3 | 30% | THEURGY -- D
(-10 Accuracy/-1 Might)

| MND -- 1 | 20% | MYSTICISM -- N/A
| LUK -- 5 | 40% |
| DEF -- 2 | 25% |
Secondary Statistics

ACC -- ??
AVO -- ??
WGT -- ??
RES -- ??
CRT -- ??
MVT -- 6+2

---

Traits:

Locksmith: Can open non-magically sealed doors and chests without the required item.
Celerity: Movement +2.

---

EQUIPMENT
* Bronze Long Knife

	+ MIGHT | 2
	+ ACCURACY | 90
	+ WEIGHT | 1
	+ CONDITION | 20/20
	+ RANGE | 1
	+ SPECIAL | Cannot be used while mounted, Halved affect against armor equal to or greater than its grade.
	+ COST | 60

* Bronze Throwing Knife

	+ MIGHT | 2
	+ ACCURACY | 75
	+ WEIGHT | 1
	+ CONDITION | 10/10
	+ RANGE | 1-2
	+ SPECIAL | Doubles as a ranged attack
	+ COST | 45

* Bronze Leather & Hide

	+ DEFENSE | 2
	+ CONDITION | 25
	+ WEIGHT | 3
	+ SPECIAL | N/A
	+ COST | 125

Possessions:
* One spare copper long knife
* Two spare copper throwing knives

Personality
Selfish and single-minded for the most part. He wants to see as much of the world and take as much as he can. Despite that, he gets along well with others. He will share what he finds willingly if he finds entertainment in doing so, but if something grabs his attention he will drop what he has and chase after it.

Backstory
Makeen's parents were part of a traveling merchant guild. He would travel with them seeing many amazing things. At the age of 14 he witnessed his parent's murder at the hands of their guild mates. He overheard that they planed on stealing the rare items his parents had acquired and to sell him to slavers. In despair and fear Makeen hid and ran away in the dead off night. With no where to go, he traveled between cities, stealing and sneaking his way around. In time he joined a band of sell swords who's goals lined up with his.

[User]
Ashür flicks the dark crimson off his blade and moves away hence, with a hawk-eye toward the gate, his allies had broken in and put down the bulk of the rebel forces, 'No doubt that idiot Siris is going to charge ahead. . .' He mired, gazing on to the majestic Salador's master. The bandit moves forth beside them, gripping hold of the hem of the camel's saddle.

"Quartermaster, I need not fall behind, those young fools are lost without me." He calls over the lull in battle.

ASHUR moves to 28-15

[Assistant]
Siris: "Nice one Makeen!"

Siris says while giving his ally a thumbs up as the nearby injured soldier falls.

Siris: "Now then, where should I go."

As the empty headed warrior considered his next move, he noticed a nearby archer in a tower with a severely bleeding Lyun keeping him from exiting. With a smile Siris jogs to Lyun and puts his hand on his shoulder.

Siris: "Don't worry friend, you've done enough! Allow me to take care of him."

Moving past his ally, Siris races up the spiraling wooden stars until he reaches the top. Upon seeing him, the archer lets loose several arrows which are either deflected by the shield or miss from the fear of imminent death.

The instant Siris reaches the top step, he raises his blade at the foe. A diagonal strike from the bowman's left shoulder to his right hip causes his enemy to fall to the floor bleeding. Looking around now that he had the height advantage, Siris spots what seemed to be the most central and guarded part of the city. His curiosity getting the better of him, he runs down the stairs. While going down, something unforseen happened, Siris had a thought.

Siris: "Hmmmmm, am I sure that attack killed him?"

Soon as he reaches the bottom however, he sees his young ally Etor coming towards him.

Siris: "Ah, Etor! The solution to my problem, be a pal and make sure the archer up top is dead will you! Counting on ya!!"

And without waiting for a response he turns to continue on his way-

Siris moves 5 tiles to 20-22 He attacks and deals 13 damage to Kassite Hunter 5. Siris levels up!

[User]
Iddin sprints to Etor before the spearman advances, quickly motioning through repair of the spearman without slowing the advance.

Iddin: Zuzu's will is made manifest again! Let him grant his mighty mercy. His grace is merciful in its burn. Your flesh will be restored to the Lord's gallery. Restoration eternal by Zuzu's will!

Iddin moves 6 tiles to 18-27 and casts Heal on Etor.
Etor gains 4 VIT (15/15).
Iddin gains 11 EXP and 1 Theurgy, losing 1 Heal durability.

[Assistant]
The words of zuzu are strangely comforting, more so each time he is healed. With renewed vigor the young lad prepares to keep his promise to the enemy and destroy all who oppose the hellions. All who oppose zuzu must be turned to dust and that dust into sand and that sand to be heated by the sun and turned into glorious glass!

The frazzled spearman shakes those intrusive thoughts from his mind to focus on the task at hand.

Etor moves into the city. Siris boisterously addressing Etor to handle a potential enemy without noticing the ennui emanating off of the youngling.

Etor: " You got it!"

The spearman was thankful that Siris gave him the opportunity to pretend to be okay. As he ascended the wooden stairs he steadied himself. Plagued with doubt he thought to himself: "The mysticism can't be wrong and it's rare, that much I knows for sure." Even if Siris' aim was true Etor would take this opportunity to never let himself fall into the abyss again. He sees the enemy archer drenched in their own blood, and invokes the mysticism within himself.

Etor: "... Crush. "

A black piddle formulates, drops with erratic movement, then slides off the archer. Etor's eyes widen as the bowman draws a breathe.

Etor moves 6 tiles to 20-24 uses flux but misses.

[User]
Zarif

Salador galloped, then trotted to a halt as Zarif completed his strafing run, seeing the dolt of a brigand he'd feathered taken in the throat by Ashür's strange curved blade. The rider rolled his eyes, a little disappointed his two arrows hadn't been enough. But, well, maybe that wasn't it. He clicked his tongue in thought

Finally seeing that infuriatingly slow fighter put in his place should have been more satisfying, but Zarif felt... Well, he felt on edge. Like he had been so, so close to something, but had just missed out. Am I really do thirsty for blood? No, it's not that, I think. The foreigner pondered as he half-watched his allies storm the gates, the rude Siris leading the charge. Distantly, he heard a familiar voice to his side.

Zarif: Ah, Vice Captain. Yes, let us not allowing them to thief all of the glory. Come!

He extended his hand down to the swordsman, and hefted him up on the camel's back, and with a soft kick to the side, they galloped over the sands, and through the gateway

Zarif rescues Ashür, and moves 9 tiles Northeast to 17-22

[Assistant]
More Hellions join the fray, and the tides seem to be turning in favor of the scattered mercenaries, even if just barely. As always, Siris darts in and out with quippy remarks and impatience. The Kassite still hasn't the vaguest idea what goes on inside the kid's mind, so he continues to ignore the callouts.

Etor moves in next, taking Lyun's place in blocking the huntsman inside the tower. He seems rattled, more so than during previous endeavors. Of all the advice Lyun could give in that moment, it's likely that none would make a difference until the boy could ponder in silence. Instead he puts a hand on Etor's shoulder while leaving, just enough to let the boy infer whatever positive message could keep him going.

He moves left, his footfalls heavy as Salador rides along. A simple nod between the three mercenaries is enough, Lyun helps Ashür off without Zarif and his steed needing to stop.

Lyun moves 6 tiles to 17-21. He takes Ashür and drops him on 17-20.

———————
VIT: 6/22
———————

[User]
Makeen: "Looks like this bastard is hanging in there. Let me help!"

Makeen rushes in between his allies and with a swift slash of his Bronze Long Knife takes down the enemy hunter.

Makeen moves 4 tiles to 19-23. Makeen attacks #5 killing him. Makeen gains 21xp.


[System]
Age: 18

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Weapon: The Ampere, a unique polearm with a wide, flat blade rather than a spearhead along with a gray steel pole. It has both range and lethality, keeping most melee fighters at a range safe for Abel but devastating to them with a tempered steel point, as well as channeling Abel's natural aura far better than he can do by himself (Inside the the Ampere's pole is a thick mesh of silver and copper wire). The Ampere has a single alternate mode that splits the wide blade into four parts and reverses their direction, creating a vaguely mace shape. In this mode, the Ampere can release bolts of lightening that travel impressive distances instantly.

Specialty: Abel fits best into the role of guardian, fittingly enough. His size, range, and defensive characteristics make him good at intercepting danger coming for his teammates, and he can certainly throw his strength around at close range, armed or not. Using his lightening bolts, he is able to paralyze if not flash-fry a single opponent at long range.

Semblance: Surge - This ability allows him to project electricity that can manipulate the Ampere at short range without touching it and summon it back to his hand when disarmed, as well as channel electricity to shock anything the weapon touches. By using Surge to rotate his staff quickly at very close range, he can create a sort of shield. When he focuses his power sufficiently through the Ampere in staff mode, he is able to fire a bolt of lightening that takes several minutes to recharge.

Personality: Abel is proud and gruff, very serious and totally without humor. For someone who appreciates the creativity and technique of both weapons and battle so thoroughly, he ironically is without creativity. Instead, he tend to go about his business by the book, a principled young man of habit and routine with little to no capability to think outside the box. While he is dependable, he is not flexible, and can respond to bullying, injustice, or even plain teasing with sudden anger. While not antisocial, he sticks with only a few friends at any given time, concentrating on strong bonds rather than many bonds. He loathes popular culture and those who overtly subscribe to it. The Grimm mask he carries makes him upset and angry, more at himself than anything else, but as it reminds him of his brother he cannot let it go. Deep down, Abel is a severe defeatist.

Color: Azure

Emblem: An azure lightening bolt, naturally.

Appearance:
When reading, he is forced to put on glasses.

[User]
At last! Abel's solemn heart practically soared to see his humble bundle of twigs and branches finally go up in flames. After taking ten minutes or so to fully conclude that his semblance was utterly useless when it came to starting fires, the guardian had managed another way. Upon wishing internally for flint and steel to get the blaze started, his mind fixated on that word steel. With enough steel on him in the form of armor to forge an entire weapon, Abel was quick to put the idea to use. By rubbing the metal knuckle-caps in his gloves roughly against his greaves, the guardian finally succeeded in getting a spark, and the rest, as they say, was history.

Now having a merry little campfire going, Abel set off to look for more wood, leaving the Ampere behind so that he could ferry more fuel in a single trip. Abel guessed that, with his classmates' fires also in the process of converting dead plant matter to ash, more fuel would be a fairly scant resource. A quick foray into the surrounding trees confirmed his fears: all the easy pickings were gone. Of course, there was now only one action to take, and without a moment's hesitation Abel advanced deeper into the forest.

Thirty seconds of sustained walking later, the guardian happened upon a felled tree, much of it lying in splinters on the leaf loam. Luckily for him, a formerly-nice tree reduced to kindling was exactly what Abel needed. He had already gathered a heap of wood when the hairs on the back of his neck bristled like the hackles of a dog. An uneasy feeling settled over him, and on instinct Abel bolted upright and looked around. He caught sight of a pair of red eyes perched in the fork of a nearby tree, and at that moment decided that disarming himself in favor of hastening the work load had been one of his dumbest plans in weeks. Abel took off running, and the Grimm, knowing that it had been spotted, pounced down from its roost and shot after the hunter-in-training as if it had been fired from a cannon.

Mere moments later Abel burst into the clearing. "I've got wood!" He announced, tossing said branches onto the grass. Flinging out a hand, he summoned the Ampere back to him, just as the sound of crashing could be heard in the vegetation. "And something else!"

Into the tranquil clearing burst a young Ankou, half running and half flying. It spewed a burst of fire in Abel's direction, out of the way of which he jumped. It screeched, realizing it had been led into an ambush but unwilling to allow the humans' greater numbers to intimidate it. With little else in the way of ceremony, it launched the entirety of its bulk at the two nearest students--Gren and Daniel.

[Assistant]
Oswald Connoly- Survival

As most of the students went off on their own, Oswald nodded towards Ineko, hoping the suited boy would follow him. "I'll get the wood, you watch our surroundings. I don't like to be caught off guard by Grimm." With his temporary partner hopefully covering him, Oswald made his way around the river, taking care to observe the life in the water. He noticed a few fish, as well as a few patches of moss, and some aquatic plants, filing away the information in his mind.

When he had gotten sufficiently into the forest, Oswald set about collecting fuel for their campfire. Making sure to gather enough small sticks and twigs to start the fire, he found a spot near the other students to start piling his collection. He cleared a radius around his pile to make sure the fire didn't spread, and made a circle using some nearby rocks before making a quick second trip to gather larger logs of wood as major fuel sources once the fire had started.

When he had gathered a sufficient amount of wood to keep a fire going for at least a small time, Oswald got to the dirty work. Looking at his hands, he sighed and chuckled. He could always wash them off later. Digging a small pit into the ground with his bare hands, Oswald tossed the tinder in first. He followed his tinder with the smaller branches, forming a pyramid with the wood before stepping back and drawing his sword. Carefully grabbing a red dust crystal from his pocket, he loaded it into the hilt of his weapon, pointing the sword at his pile of wood. Pressing a small button hidden on the side of his handguard with his thumb, Oswald smirked as a beam of energy instantly set the wood ablaze.

After returning the dust crystal to his pouch and sheathing his sword, Oswald took a moment to relax and look around when Abel burst into the clearing, a Grimm following shortly thereafter. Oswald's eyes widened a bit as he realized that he was looking at an Ankou. What in the hell kind of place where they that such a monster would just casually come across a group of students making campfires? Well...this certainly isn't boring.

The firey breath was enough to terrify most civilians, and he'd known plenty of trainees who shuddered at the mere description of the creatures. Oswald was among those people, he was ashamed to admit. Taking a deep breath as he moved into a combat stance and drew his sword, Oswald cursed when he realized he'd already put his dust away. Gren and Daniel were already under attack, and he was in no position to get between the Ankou and his fellow students with his broken wrist. Instead, he hoped to distract it, instantly transporting himself to its side and taking a wide slash at its flank, which was deflected by the Grimm's scaled arm. Leaping a few feet backwards, Oswald tried to grab his enemy's attention, his eyes narrowing and a guttural growl coming from deep in his chest.

[User]
Gren Orchid

Gren had managed to gather some more tinder for himself after finding some logs to dry. He had formed it into a quaint teepee and had a nice fire going. He was thinking that he should try to find some mushrooms to roast, or maybe even forest creatures. Surely the God Eater was a bit too... Much to do something like that. He may need to resort to trapping. Looking around Gren wondered where Abel had went. He figured he could work with his teammate to hunt or gather food. He wasn't here however, and Gren figured he had simply went to gather more wood himself. Fine by him, there were plenty of others to work with.

His eyes fell on a girl named Sangue Naga. He wasn't sure what about her caught his attention. Perhaps it was because her hair glowed with the same radiance of her flame. Either way Gren went over to her. "Excuse me, do you have a moment? My name is Gren Orchid. I was thinking that, now that we have a fire going, we should see about collecting some supplies. I'm fairly decent at identifying wild plants and fungi. However I feel that my weapons are also inappropriate to hunt. I was thinking you and I should work together to hunt and gather food. What do you think?"

Gren didn't get his answer however. Soon Abel came back with a guest: a young Ankou. Gren cursed under his breath: He didn't have his weapon. But he couldn't let this thing cause too much trouble. He had no doubts that everyone here could easily slay this grimm, but they worked so hard making their fire! Gren decided it was time he showed the fire within him. And that wouldn't have been hard since the creature charged at him. ""Hmm! Looks like the prey has come to me!"

Bracing himself Gren was steadfast as the massive beast plowed into him. His feet dragged against the dirt but he did not falter. Nay, instead he had grab hold of the beast, wrapping his arms around it's maw so that it could not breath fire all over the forest. It's own smaller arms clawed at Gren's arm, but could hardly put a scratch on him. And as it reared it's front arms to thrash Gren, he grabbed hold of it's head to assist in throwing the beast over his shoulder, on it's back, and onto the ground before Sangue. He continued to keep the grimm pinned, to allow other hunters to finish it off.

[Assistant]
Sangue Naga - Survival

The red-haired woman who stood still in front of her fire soon woke up from her aloof trance as she turned to a man who went up to her. Interestingly enough, the man claimed that his weapons were inappropriate for hunting. A bit ironic, considering how her weapons were specifically designed to hunt different kinds of things, but she decided not to think too much of it for the sake of being respectful to the man known as Gren Orchid.

"...Sangue," she spoke softly. Before she was even able to accept his offer, however, someone interrupted her.

Actually, something interrupted her.

An... Ankou popped out. Sangue's open eye squinted at the sight of Grimm within the class. Though it was to be expected that Grimm would eventually show up, she preferred not to have one appear right before her. Thankfully, not only was the Grimm alone, but every other hunter seemed capable of apprehending it. Gren, for example, immediately entered a wrestling match with the creature.

Sangue did not want to leave him wrestling with the creature, however, so she unsheathed her blade.

With the katana in hand, the woman violently threw her Apophis Claw at the Ankou, letting the claw forcefully smash itself against the Grimm's belly. With light scars caused by the claw, Sangue twisted herself around before slashing at the wounds she inflicted, cutting open the Grimm before raising her blade. Using the strength she could muster up for one arm, the woman drove the katana down on the Ankou's head, twisting it twice to ensure that it would no longer cause much of a problem for the man who wrestled it.

Though she let the blade barely miss Gren, everything she did was intentional. She knew that she would not miss, so she felt quite confident that she would not make an amateur mistake of accidentally stabbing random strangers. The woman took her katana out of the Ankou, wondering if the job was done.

"..."

Sangue remained still, now wondering if they could just cook the Grimm like a chicken or something. Weird thoughts were, perhaps, one of Sangue's hidden specialties.

[User]
No amount of developing forehead armor could protect the young Ankou from the blade stabbed through its jaw. Though mortally wounded, the creature still struggled, its frantic slashes and spurts of flame growing weaker until the creature was still. It lay with its various limbs in disarray, as if it had been in the middle of an intense fight and suddenly dropped dead. The tension in the clearing dispelled, sliding out of the various students after being so suddenly stoked by the monstrous Riesen's unexpected appearance. Abel poked one of its hind legs with his Ampere, wondering if he ought to apologize for leading the creature here, or remain silent. He had just about made up his mind when the voice of professor Vorosky, not yet devoid of urgency, broke the silence.

"What are you doing?" He asked. From any other teacher, such a statement might have seemed demanding and highly critical, but Vorosky seemed oddly content. Before a single soul could respond to his rhetorical question, he continued as if he were giving a classroom lesson. "Can you not see the beast is not melting? Cut its throat, before--!"

As if on cue, the subdued Ankou let loose a skull-rattling screech. Evidently it had stopped fighting to save up enough energy to do so. Immediately afterward, the Grimm began to dissolve into smoke around Sangue's katana, but the damage was done. Abel groaned ominously, but he let the professor cheerfully explain what was in store. "The cries of the Ankou call other reptile Grimm to their aid. In moments we will be surrounded by Itzamna, and after come the Salamanders. It will be a good lesson in survival!"

A few moments raced by, with several students scrambling to make preparations for the incoming assault. While not very threatening, Itzamna were often deadly in large packs, and in this unidentified forest only Vorosky had an estimate of how many there would be. Fishing poles, crackling campfires, and marshmellows were either forgotten or quickly put to use as the steady tramp-tramp-tramp of many feet brushing through underbrush grew louder. All the while, the professor was happy to toss around some advice. "Don't let one clamp down on a limb! It will start pulling, and just like that, others will clamp down on other limbs and do the same. Make clean strikes with weapons! If your weapon sticks in one and it jumps away, you will be facing its brothers and sisters unarmed. Stay with the others! Even if you are not teammates, the person at your side might save your life."

The woods turned eerily quiet. Abel stood behind his campfire, Ampere in staff mode ready to electrocute the firs.t raptor he saw. Other students had assumed similarly defensive positions. There came a sound like the call of a sore-throated bird, and at once around twenty Itzamna appeared. The first wave rushed each student in twos and threes, but it was obvious by the now-constant noises among the trees that there were more waiting in reserve.


[System]
Appearance:
Quote: "Shorty Squad reporting!"

Gender:
Is a female or takes the form of one.

Age:
???

Series:
Steven Universe

Species:
Gem

Role/Occupation:
She likes to believe that she's the defender of the town from all the dangers that may come, seeing that it suits her as she was made for battle. Sans asked her to be the deputy, and while she wasn't exactly sure at first, she eventually decided for it. After all, he didn't seem that strong.
Skills:
Summon Whip: Like all gems, Amethyst has a weapon that she can summon from her gem, which is located on her chest. She is proficient in using them, whether it's to grab something or simply lash out.

Poof!: Gems are, in a sense, the physical manifestation of the gem that is located on them, which said gem can be considered the brain. Their bodies are, in simple terms, a hologram with mass, and when taking damage that would normally be considered fatal to said hologram, they instead lose their form and retreat into their gem to regenerate. However, this solely leaves behind a defenseless, vulnerable gem, which if broken or shattered will permanently kill said gem. For Amethyst, said regeneration can take from either a minute to several hours.

Shapeshifting: Due to their bodies being a projection with mass, they can shift it around into different forms such as animals, tools, or just a different person. However, they always stay the same color and a gem is always located in the general area of where it would be. It is also very hard to stay shapeshifted for long periods of time, and is generally only meant for a small duration.

Fusion: While something she can't do with humans, gems do have the ability to fuse with other gems through a fusion dance, which synchronizes them and would create a larger, more powerful being. An example is this short clip of Amethyst's dancing… just look at that butt, she isn't nearly as crazy or wild here.
Home:
Amethyst has taken a liking to one of the small, beaten down houses that reside within the village. While some may find it a bit lackluster, she felt it suited her the most, and immediately she began to gather whatever she could just to clutter the place like she had her old room, effectively creating several junk piles where who knows what you may find in it.

Personality:
Amethyst is very carefree and fun loving to a fault, along with being impulsive and rash. She can often be bad-mannered and untidy, but she is definitely protective and almost always had good intentions. She is somewhat of a hoarder, but she isn't really bothered by that.
Originally intended for fighting, Amethyst does love a good brawl, even if she isn't involved. She'll egg people on and cheer very loudly if conflict occurs.

However, she is very observant of other people's feelings, and it is very easy to tell when Amethyst gets upset. For instance, she can easily understand why one may do something foolish or selfish or how a relationship may be fixed, but will begin to get sarcastic and angered if she is insulted about her insecurities or pushed.

In fact, she herself hates herself due to where she was made, the fact she wasn't made right due to being in the ground too long, and how she is weaker than the other gems. She hides this behind a boisterous persona.

Backstory:
Amethyst was created in the Gem Kindergarten, a place that would suck the nutrients of Earth and effectively using said energy into creating new gems, in this case, Quartz soldiers. However, due to Homeworld having to flee due to a rebellion caused by the Crystal Gems, not much is known about why Amethyst stayed in the ground longer than expected. All we know is that she is, in a sense, "overcooked", thus being small and weaker than a regular quartz soldier, who is tall and strong. She spent a long time there, lost and confused, and worst of all, isolated, having named two rocks based off of what she would do with them; sit and climb. Eventually, Rose Quartz, leader of the rebellion, stumbled upon her, and for many years afterward she stayed with her, and eventually her son, learning more about herself, and forming some pretty great bonds. However, on a simple mission that she went alone on, she managed to stumble across something that she, at first, thought was a corrupted gem, but upon closer inspection, she soon found herself in the village. Confused, angered, but relatively calm, she knows the gems will save her eventually… right?

Life in the Town:
(Your characters have lived in this village for a whole year now. Explain what they've been up to in this time! Have some fun with it.)
At first, Amethyst tried everything to get out. She ran every which way, explored every inch that she could, but always found herself back in the same area where she started. Eventually, when she realized there wasn't a way out, she seemingly got lazy with it, lounging around all day as she saw no further point in trying to escape. To her now, this was just an amusing experience that she would eventually find herself out of.

However, whenever something that could threaten the others comes, she is one of the first on the scene. While her methods may seem a bit brash, she is very easy to get along with. She hasn't mentioned much about her past, and she often pulls pranks on the other villagers through her shapeshifting just to amuse herself as she see's the situation as boring. Often Sans would scold her for her behavior, but she simply takes it with a grain of salt, having been used to such scoldings from one of her previous friends.

Though, she always wanted to check out the tower that they had seen, and was waiting for the day she could do so. She had an eternity to wait.

Prized Possession:
She has a photo of all the Crystal Gems, something that, despite the mess of her house, is always easily found and taken care of. It gives her hope that she'll make it back to them again, and that they too are looking for her.

[User]
Mr L - Off of the roofs and onto the streets
Mr L made his way across a couple roofs before wall-jumping his way down to ground-level. Sure he had a better vantage point up there but all it takes is one idiot looking up at the wrong time to call attention to him. Tch. Whatever about this place that has the Flip magic on the fritz needs a good kick in the rear. With his luck it's probably that really conspicuous tower but sometimes an ominous tower is just a creepy Boo-infested joint or just a distraction from the real problem.

His thoughts drift back to Castle Bleck. Who knows what the grinning freak told everyone? And so, he fled, like a chicken that has lost his head. My my my, so much for the greatest thief. ... Nah. Odds are Dimented told everyone that Mr L arrived too early at the Sammer Realm and his employee membership got Voided or the Mushroom Dimension idiots managed to croak him. But what's worst is that it has been months and this place is still standing. No signs of impending doom or even a hint of the Void in the sky. As long as the Dark Prognosticus is in his possession Count Bleck would be set on his path. Miss Nastasia, although she might offer suggestions and alternate paths, would follow their leader's... well, lead. Barring temporal shenanigans with this place being ultra slow compared to the rest of the multiverse it is possible that the Count might have (probably not) called it quits.

The thought rattles him. Worse is the idea that Fatass, King Incompetent, and Damsel-Always-In-Distress managed to kick the Count's floating keister. Beating O'Chunks is no big deal. The guy's a loonie. Mimi's a fashionable little nut that flips out and becomes something utterly demonic when she doesn't get her way. Dimentio's a loser. He's... admittedly not sure why he lost to them and then Dimented. Maybe he didn't calibrate Bro-Bot right? Maybe sabotage? (He wouldn't put it past the clown to set him up to fail.) And he was distracted... Yeah. Dimentio saw an opening and took it. The 'why' is gonna keep bugging Mr L for a while yet.

He needs to take his mind off of that. Bro-Bot. Yeah, that's something much more important than purple and yellow nutjobs. He's missing a lot of parts and a lot of useful tools to continue working on him. Most people in town aren't exactly masters of engineering or robotics (or even brobotics). There's that one actual robot but... uh... Mr L is a bit concerned about those giant fists.

"Tch. Useless." the thief mutters to himself, rubbing his temples a little as a familiar annoyance can be seen from the edge of his sight. Great. He had to jinx himself thinking about useless or irritating people. When they first met face-to-face she kept calling him by some stupid name. Luigi. Luigi Mario. Sure his name is L but it ain't Luigi. Eluh, not Looo. How hard is it to keep straight? "Hey there Little Miss Egghead. Or should it be Chestnuts-For-Brains?" It's a bit petty that he keeps shifting around different insults for her but no one ever said he was a nice guy.

[Assistant]
Jibanyan – En Route to Hanawa

Pacing down the empty streets, Jibanyan occasionally glanced at the empty houses along the road. Back home, a place like this would be teeming with Youkai, living their merry life however they choose, but the deserted village had its own charm here; that was, when it wasn't under assault from the strange creatures. At the very least, it wasn't teeming with Oni, so that was a good way of looking at his current situation. There were also no trucks as well, so he didn't have to worry about getting hit, something that happened in an alarming frequency in his home world.

A short distance later, Jibanyan caught the sight of red hair. To his best knowledge, only two people in the village had red hair and one of them was a tad too trigger-happy most of the time. However, it was easy to tell apart one from the other from how they wore their hair. Plus, this redhead had a sword by his side and a taiko drum on his back. "Fuma-san!" Jibanyan quickened his jog to a run to meet him.

Having gotten to know Fuma over the year, Jibanyan found his demeanor to be rather similar to that of his legendary ancestor, though he was less manic about cutting things down. The armor he often wore, on the other hand, gave him the creeps, especially when its face came out. Not even the Oni was that scary when he's on a prowl. Still, Fuma was a good person and it was thanks to him that the village often had steady supply of provision to go around.

Once he finally saw him, Jibanyan smiled and stopped to greet him. "Good morning, Fuma-san!" The cat Youkai then rummaged through his haramaki and pulled out a tiny pouch filled with an assortments of seeds. He normally kept his favorite chocolate bar inside his haramaki through some unexplained magic, but since he had no chocolate bar, he used it to keep small items close by instead. "I found these seeds while going near the edge of the forest, nyan. I don't know what kind of seeds they are, but maybe they're useful, nyan!"

Jinx – On The Streets of Home

While taking a stroll down the road of Home, a lame name for a village in her opinion, Jinx, now wearing a simple set of black tank top, short jeans and red sneakers, looked up and happened to notice Amethyst lounging on the roof of her home, though she called it a scrapyard more than anything else. She often worked together with the purple deputy due to their shared role of keeping peace in the village, though Jinx could admittedly go a bit 'further' than Amethyst. Kuro and Shiro seemed to have taken a liking to her though. Apparently, she reminded them of her fellow Star Guardian Lulu, only less prone to have her mind wander off into the unknown.

"Hey, Amethyst! Rise and shine!" Jinx had a hunch that she was actually wide awake, but it wouldn't hurt to be sure. Taking their own initiatives, Kuro and Shiro flew up and hovered above the purple lady's face, chattering cheerfully as they tried to ascertain for their red-headed partner whether or not she was actually awake. However, Kuro was promptly distracted by Amethyst's purple gem, located on her chest and just visible above her shirt, and tried to touch it, which Jinx noticed straight away. "Ah, ah, ah! Kuro, paws off the shiny!" she called out with a reprimanding tone and a side-to-side wag of her finger. Amethyst had told her about how important that purple gem was for her and, though they had their disagreement sometimes, Jinx could at least respect that sense of importance.

With a sad chatter, Kuro flew away from the gem and back towards Amethyst, Shiro having taken the time to gently play with her lavender hair instead. Jinx's long red pigtails were fun to play with, but Amethyst's hair was thicker and looked more lustrous to the white familiar's eyes.

[User]
Amethyst - Lounging About

Surprisingly to Amethyst, it was a relatively peaceful start after Pridemoor's rounds, and she could appreciate that to an extent. Sure, a part of her said it was boring, but another also said it meant she could continue to lay lazily on her roof some more. Or at least, that was what she was hoping for, but she knew it was too good to be true. After all, in mere moments her ears were assaulted with a loud "HEY AMETHYST, RISE AND SHINE." Though, knowing who it was, she couldn't help but just lay there some more as if she didn't hear. It was definitely Jinx, someone that she had helped out from time to time in defending the town, and so she knew that she would probably check up on her.

Her intuition was correct, as the things... the name of them sounds familiar to her... But she couldn't really think of it at the moment, paying much more attention to where she felt them, or lack thereof. She could hear some sort of noise right above her, to where she opened one eye and promptly winked at the familiar before closing it again. The other, however, she wasn't really sure where it was until she heard Jinx talk about not touching the shiny, making Amethyst immediately get up. The one by her gem started to go back, while the other promptly got into her hair. She didn't mind that, simply shrugging that off and instead focusing on Jinx.

"Oh hey Jinx! She asked, jumping down from the roof and having a near perfect landing, the left side of her face being covered as her hair flowed back down into it's natural position. She had a smile across her face, looking rather content."You know me, just enjoying the day. So what are you up to?"


[System]
Rank: Battle-Brother

Specialisation (If any): N/A

Psychic Aptitude: Olympio is a very powerful psyker even by the standards of the Grey Knights, the leadership of the Chapter considering him for the Librarius or even the Prognosticars should his career prove fruitful; however, his powers are rather unfortunately for a Grey Knight in the fields not immediately tangible in the battlefield; very powerful telepathy, divination, and even the power of logokinetics are natural to young Olympio. Thus he will in battle more often than not simply lend his power to his Brothers rather than using it himself.

Appearance: Brother Olympio is a fairly tanned man, his skin the shade of aged wood, with matching dark hair and brown-green eyes. He is generally bald, with his skin from head to toe covered in tattoos and decorative brands or scarrings from his past though these fade rapidly with time.

[User]
Crashing into the next group of gunners it was only a few spins before they were a pile of dismembered bits. With that the remaining resistance in this part of the open street was rather thin, the few fighters remaining having mere flimsy iron weapons and an occasional stub weapon that wouldn't even penetrate a Space Marine's black carapace, let alone their power armour. However, though the enemy here was sparse Olympio knew he was alone and isolated here, and to try fight on solo was an exercise in baseless arrogance; easily a trait let swell by the prince of pleasure's magics.

Closing the distance to once more return to the comfortable embrace of his Brother's psychic aura was easy, only a few leaps crossing a great many metres until they were in his sight. As he moved in the message of Bieito came through the vox. Truth be told he was somewhat underwhelmed by the usage of vox instead of telepathic communication. The majority of Grey Knights had at least enough of the aptitude to communicate at the very least with their own squad using their Justicar as a means to help relay the information if needed.

"Noted." he replied using his mind. The presence of daemons was certainly ominous. It seemed to redeem his foretellings, but that was nothing to be happy about given what it implied. "I am coming to reinforce." he continued, stomping over. Though grouped up they would be far more vulnerable to heavy weapons of all sorts, it seemed for now the greater part of the eternal enemy's rabble was culled and their firepower would now be all but negligible. Daemons would now be the main quarry if the report of Bieito was correct and in such a case a tight formation of blades would be optimal rather than the loose slaughter they had previously enacted.

Flourishing his sword, he for now kept between the Justicar and Bieito ready to support - or if needed fall back to - either of his comrades should the enemy try to strike them down one by one.

Checking his heads-up-display to correct his path, he started his march towards the destination of the squad. He had no interest in killing that which later the PDF could clean up when there was a foe more urgent to deal with, thus seeing no purpose in increasing his current kill-tally. For Brother Olympio there was only the objective, and he hoped that his Brothers would join him with haste.

[Assistant]
Sirius' efficient and timely arrival proved the necessary turning point to shift the tides in their joint favor against the dark god's servants. Gaunt, pale faces once jubilant in their small victory fell in despair, their cries of anguish and human suffering falling on deaf, uncaring ears as the two battle brothers parted them like wheat before the scythe. Bolter rounds and holy flame washing them away like the foul taint they were. Alone, a single space marine remained a terrifying force. Together, they were a living nightmare. They devastated those remained, putting to flight the few that survived. Standing utterly victorious amongst the smoldering ruins nary a single living cultist in sight Basilious took the moment to recuperate and reload. His expended tank lying forgotten in the ashes at his feet as he fastened fresh fuel to his arm mounted incinerator. Perhaps he had been too generous in his usage, already having expended two full canisters and locking his third into place. The town around him had been rather swiftly transformed from its humble origins into a hellscape, fragile homes collapsing into smoldering ruin. Hungry fire leapt from house to house in an uncontrollable maddening dance of destruction. Overhead dark chemically blue smoke clogged the sky, climbing ever higher in as a grim beacon to the Astarte's wrath. A mark that could no doubt be seen for miles around.

 Flames licked at his armored boots as he parted from the inferno, stepping into a less volatile portion of the town, where his respirator need not work so hard cleansing the pungent smog from the air. The fire would not doubt spread to these currently untouched buildings, but that would be in the next three minute or so. His gaze traveled across the abandoned portions. Either the residents were dead, concealed, or in total rout. Either way there were no threats currently. The fire would see to the hidden ones soon enough. Off to his left Sirius attended his own business, the two marines maintained standard combat dispersion, close enough to aid one another, but far enough apart that no lucky explosive would end them both. Their separate purges, though disparate in their methods were similarly effective. Basilious took a moment to attract Sirius' attention, not to give warning but only to convey his thoughts. He did not require words to express his appreciation for the assistance his brother provided. Instead he gave Sirius a singular nod before turning and continuing in his hunt.

 A robotically transmitted voice interrupted Basilious' actions however, and the steel-clad warrior paused his progress. Their words of warnings and orders were followed by Olympio, demonstrating his talent in telepathic communication. Basilious' lips twitched upward, unable to keep the competitive grin off his face. "Received Bieito, Justicar. Sirius and I shall change course and rendezvous with you at the gate. And we shall be on guard for the daemonic." The young knight felt a tinge of what could only be good natured jealousy, though his conditioning prevented him from recognizing the truth of the feeling. Bieito would be the first of them to slay the hated foe. It was possible Basilious considered, that his fire had purged a few daemons, eradicating them under its holy power where eyes could not witness their demise, but he doubted it. Such fortune was not his to count upon, and could one really tally the death of daemons if one did not witness their slaying firsthand? A question for later he decided swiveling forty degrees to the right, moving through the remaining town post haste. A guarded, but rapid advance that met no adversary yet…

[User]
The enemies of the Grey Knights had posed little threat thus far. In tandem with Brother Basilious' purging flame, Sirius' blades and weapon had torn them asunder, sending their souls to weep at their dark masters' feet. All that remained in their wake was ash and ruin.

It came as little surprise when Brother Bieito announced the inevitable: their arrival was anticipated, and with it came daemons of Chaos. But why else would they, scions of the Emperor's divinity, be called but to fend off the maleficient spectres of the dark gods of the Warp? Basilious answered for him, and so he merely offered 'Received, Justicar' to the command to head toward the gate. Their movement, then, was swift: no quarter could be brooked, not for such a time-sensitive matter.

Which was why, when two more small bands of foes entered their line of sight and aimed their weapons, Sirius offered no bladesmanship to the one he set his sights upon. Unwilling to lose focus on the current goal for too long, he instead raised his hand, and launched a salvo of psy bolts even as he continued to move forward, the gesture as smooth as it was deadly. In seconds, the humans were no more than meat, the threat of their possession done.

No matter. Onward to the gate.

[Assistant]
@BCTheEntity@Andreyich

The objective toward which the Grey Knights now propelled themselves was none other than the entrance into the subterranean labyrinth of tunnels, dug over thousands of years in anticipation of this very moment, that all lead to the sacred chamber of the Cult of Anash'Ra – a vile and demented subordinate of the Prince of Pleasure, said to have enticed and corrupted more religious figures, aristocrats and foolish Aeldari than any other of her servants save the Masque – a chamber in which the summoning ritual was close to reaching a zenith.

Covering the entryway (which itself was no more than an opening in the basement) was a solid bunker-like structure of rockcrete, barbed wire wrapped about it, and various slits beginning to brighten as heavy weapons fire sought out the servants of the God-Emperor; within was a garrison of purple-clad cultists, of a higher quality than the peasant rabble fought thus far, armed with Imperial constructed las-guns and armoured in carapace, expertly trained humans... but still humans nonetheless.

Sand was swept into the air around the rapidly moving formation, bullets whipping about them as they moved, armour of unadorned ceramite causing gleams and glints in the hot noon sun of Anairu, Justicar Kallikles forming his squad into a living arrowhead of gene-enhanced fury with himself as the tip of the projectile.

"I am the hammer..." began the Justicar, reciting the sacred words of the six-hundred-and-sixty-sixth Chapter of Astartes – widely unknown outside of the most clandestine of organisations, unheralded as heroes and lorded as such by none, their own dead forgotten by all save their own brethren - "I am the right hand of the Emperor," his voice lifted as those of his brother joined him, Kallikles lifting his left arm and sending blessed bolter rounds into the unholy mass of human and half-formed neverborn that opposed them over the sand, "the instrument of His will..." those of mere flesh were blown apart with ease, their remains ground underfoot by the Knights or by their comrades, those of more unnatural flesh screeched as their bodies burned, "... the gauntlet about His fist …" a fanged face without a nose reared up before the Justicar, only to be cut in twain in an instant, "the tip of His spear, the edge of His sword!"

A mass of devoted followers and summoned minor daemons crowded round the Grey Knights as they came, unable to stop the arrow now that it has been loosed, perhaps slowing them somewhat – buying more time for their master to be risen, no doubt – but not fully able to halt their momentum.

"Basilious," voxed the Justicar as his legs continued to grind forward, "you will find an exit for us once inside, put your incinerator to good use, while Bieito will hold the entrance tunnel. Brothers Olympio and Salazar will come with me, together we shall cease the summoning itself."

Picking out multiple targets within his helmets HUD, the Justicar shared them with his squad, targeting reticles closing over the weak points of the enemy fortification.

"We must break through and descend into the tunnels, from there we can force our way to their 'temple', and bring this to an end."

---

In the Temple-cavern of Anash'Ra...

Magister Mordegan Arakane could sense that time was running out, his body shivering and shuddering as he spoke the ten-thousand material names of his Lord, sweat making his hook-beaked mask slick with perspiration and his lips moist with his own lather, eyes of shifting colours half closed as he attempted to blot out all distractions and concentrate on the matter at hand... but how could he?!

The Corpse-Emperor had sent his servants, and now a millennia of work was going to be wasted because of it... because of them... he would not, could not die here. He must survive to bring his master back into real space, something he could not accomplish if he were stripped of life.

Yes... yes... he knew now what he had to do.

He waited until he could hear the approaching enemy, until he could hear the roar of their bolters and the radiance of their armour, until he could visibly see them from the other side of the cavern acting as his stronghold, then he leapt from the far side of the granite plateau!

Before his body could his the floor it burst into spectral flame, his form disappearing even as the two Beastmen stood dumbfounded and turned to the Magisters assistant – this man was equally flabbergasted as they, attempting to take up his masters ritual chanting even as the Grey Knights bore down on them.

[User]
As Olympio walked through the scene, he did so with some consternation. His mind looped back to his flourishes, the skill with which he fought in battle. It was necessary for him to be a master of the sword and his storm-bolter of course, for he could not leverage his mind to the same destructive potency that many of his Brothers could. But this was the realm of She-Who-Thirsts as the damnable xenos called the God of Chaos. Here, it as excess that reigned, and he knew that it was a mistake of many an initiate to assume this only applied to more base things from lust to gluttony. Many a man fell into the lures of Slaanesh with promises of being the greatest of swordmasters, and though he was confident in his unyielding purity Olympio was nevertheless concerned that by his very actions he had been strengthening the beast.

So deep was he in his musings that he lagged the incantation of the Justicar by a few milliseconds when he echoed it.

As daemonettes and mortal abominations alike descended upon the Space Marines, Olympio made sure to take the conclusions he came to in his musings into account. No longer were there the skillful, artistic sweeps, slices, and parries.e Now he made use of all the brutality that the strength of his power armour and genetic enhancements allowed him. He turned his sword over, grabbing it by the blade in the grip of a murder-stroke, the gilded crossguard of the weapon now the ends of a piercing bludgeon that was soon coated in gore. As ever more enemies pressed in, he felt his weapon ever more a burden given there was less and less space to truly swing it. He transitioned to using his fists, feet and even his very head as blunt weapons, the appendages flailing with the speed and force to crush just as a hammer or hatchet would. But even that was enough. Though individually he was stronger than many dozens of these abominations, the fact was that there were so many he could hardly move. Although likewise it meant that they too had little room to maneuver, it was still more than he and eventually they would get a lucky dagger or claw into the soft spot of a joint in his armour.

It is said Space Marines know no fear. While true in the abstract, the self-preservation instincts of the Grey Knight nevertheless kicked in and overpowered his previous vows to conserve his psychic fortitude for greater foes. With a roar, witch-lightning coarse through the entire surface of the warrior. It arced between the aberrations covering him, turning the mortals into crisps and the daemons into puffs of smoke. Not ceasing his battle-cry, he used his shoulder still crackling with psychic electricity as a ram with which he tried to charge through the mass of evil and clear a path for his comrades.


[System]
A practical lady of the night who has decided it's time to move on.

Ask anyone in the lower quarter of Enn—Lily (although no one really believes that's her name) is a florist. A successful florist. A curiously successful florist, actually, for someone who lives in one of the poorest district in the city, where few people have to coin or the urge to buy the delicate blossoms she peddles. Occasionally, she'll take her wares to the upper districts and actually come home with an empty basket—but that's not really how she makes her livelihood, and everyone knows it.

Almost six years ago, times were tough on the docks of Enn—there was little work, all of it backbreaking, and much too difficult for Lily's widow father or her three younger sisters to keep up for long. For months, as the family got closer and closer to starving, Lily tried to find work for herself, and took any and all jobs to keep the family afloat. Every once in a while, though, she'd dream of leaving the city and finding adventure and riches—but she'd never abandon her family like that.

One day, some rich merchant's boy offered her an entire silver piece for a drunken kiss, and she had her 'eureka' moment.

Things quickly escalated, and these days she's making enough to support herself, her father, and her sisters—all three of whom now have lives of their own, in Enn and in other cities, all of which Lily paid for. The youngest is studying at the Royal University, the next oldest works for a seamstress in the next city over, and the second oldest lives on one of the outlying farms as a stablehand. Their room and board, their food, their tuition, father's medicine—all of it, bought on Lily's dime, and she doesn't mind one jot. As far as she's concerned, once she crossed the line, she might as well do the best she can. 'Shameless' is an understatement—she's actually very proud of how far her family's come.

These days, though, things are not as good as they were a year ago, even if her sisters are largely supporting themselves now. Her father's wasting sickness has only gotten worse, and even with more and more coin going towards his care, his condition declined. Rapidly. With all her experience, she could see what was coming plain as day, but refused to believe it.

She saw the notice calling for Traveller's companions on a Saturday. Her father died on Tuesday. Today is Thursday, and she'll be at the east gates with all she owns at the crack of dawn. There's nothing left for her to do in this city now—time to find those adventures she's been dreaming of.

[User] The felidrake was right there, a cute little thing, it actually looked a bit like a cat I could see, now that I was closer. Reaching slowly into the cage, I brought out the meat. "Hey, you want some food? Come on, you must want some." I say, trying to coax it forward. It stepped forward a bit, snagged the meat,then scampered back. Looking for some kind of ulterior motive, it seemed. Taking a second piece, then a third, and a fourth, I slowly coaxed it into the cage, putting a fifth in for good measure. Then a loud popping noise went off, and the felidrake attempted to teleport, before appearing in the same spot, looking considerably more tired. I looked around, and saw Meryn fall on top of her bag and cage. Some of the cages bars had stuck into her body. She got up and fed a felidrake a bit, but I decided to go over anyway. "Meryn, right? You okay after that? And, sorry about earlier." I said, once I was close enough for her to hear me.

[Assistant]
TEAM RUTABAGA

Observing the trapped felidrake intently, Fiammetta judged that the task at hand seemed easy enough.

"Hmmph! That's it? Hardly a task worthy of a noble. Just you watch, I shall return with the largest felidrake of any of you!"

Despite what she said though, she adjusted her gauntlets and grabbed a few pieces of meat with which to bait one of the fiendishly adorable critters. And it didn't take her long to spot one as she wandered through the woods. A runt, clearly still a kitten and the smallest of the litter judging by its size and the way its empty stomach rumbled. Fearful but curious, it stuck its head out of a bush and chirped at Fiammetta. The malnourished animal eyed the meat she carried hungrily.

"Hmmm..." Fiammetta said, on the fence about offering it a piece of meat. "No, too small. It would be a disgrace for me to return to the group brandishing something so tiny. I am sorry little one, but the house of Anzivino has no time for weaklings."

A tree behind her rustled, and she caught sight of a much larger animal, almost the size of a dog. Her eyes lit up. Excellent! Truly this was a felidrake worthy of the Anzivino family name!

She approached it holding her cage in one hand and a piece of meat in another. Catching sight of her, the larger animal growled, its hair standing on edge as it prepared to pounce.

"Here~," she cooed. "Come here. Yes..."

The large felidrake hissed, but relented in the face of tasty treats. Cautiously, it sniffed the meat with interest. Fiammetta grinned.

"It's your lucky day, felidrake! You get to be captured by a noblewoman of the house Anzivino!"

She lunged for the cat, grabbing it roughly with her steel gauntlets before trying to force it into the cage. Immediately the felidrake started to bite, claw and hiss, scratching her cheek before teleporting out of her arms and kicking wet dirt in her eyes as it scrambled away with an entire cut of her meat.

"Owww!" she said as she rubbed some of the dirt from her eyes. "You... you miserable little ingrate! I offer you a chance to be a part of house Anzivino and this is how you repay me? I'll make sure you are punished for your hubris, cat. Come here, you!"

What ensued was a comically literal game of cat and mouse with Fiammetta chasing the felidrake all across the desolate patch of forest she'd chosen to search in, cussing and spitting and generally "roughing it" in a way she never thought she personally would have to stoop to.

The battle raged on until the felidrake had claimed all but the tiniest scraps of bait, leaving Fiammetta sweaty, dirty, alone, and completely defeated.

"That... stupid little cat! Mangy stray! That no-good, worthless, low-to-the-ground unappreciative son of a mother born from the bleakest- rrrrggghhhhhhh!"

She groaned in frustration, collapsing to the ground and about ready to cry. It was okay, no one would see her out here. And honestly...

"What kind of noble can't catch a single cat?!" she said, berating herself. "I can't return to the others like this... not after those things I said..."

Behind her, the tiny felidrake poked its curious little head out of a bush...

[User]
TEAM RUTABAGA

Telio held the open cage with both hands; a felidrake returned his intense gaze with an aloof look of sheer apathy. A leaf fell from a tree, fluttering to the ground as the two rivals stared each other down. Down, down the leaf fell. Telio ignored the drop of sweat dripping from his brow. Closer and closer to the earth it fell. Telio's fingers danced over the bars of the cage, but it wasn't time to strike... until... NOW! Telio pounced just as the leaf hit the ground, but the felidrake poofed away before the iron could close around him.

Telio felt something on his head again. A furry, fanged face drifted down into his field of vision and let out the laziest "meow" he had ever heard. "Is my head really that comfortable?" he asked, and the felidrake responded by digging its claws into him, fluffing his hair, and curling up into a ball. Telio let out a sigh. By the time he caught one, he would have no time to draw! Then, he got a devious, brilliant idea. He saw the way they played with one another and vied for dominance atop those little statues. Perhaps he could kill two birds, or felidrakes, with one stone.

He immediately pulled out his art supplies, ignoring the felidrake that was purring on his head. He had stared at the thing long enough to get a good mental image. He knew the size it ought to be, the color, the texture, and those brilliant feline eyes. He put extra effort into those eyes. For all the time that he spent on that drawing, he was certain that he wouldn't be the first to catch one of the creatures -- he wasn't even sure if this would let him catch one -- but at least he would have something to show for it. When he was finished, a perfect felidrake was staring right back at him.

A sly grin on his face, Telio slipped the picture into the back of the cage and did his best felidrake impression to wake the critter on his head. It opened one eye, and then the other, and then it was standing upright on Telio's head when it saw the picture. It hissed at first, but when it's rival showed no response it popped to the ground, tentatively pawing at the cage. It had never seen a felidrake so still before, nor one with such an unwavering gaze. With a gentle boot, Telio nudged the felidrake into the cage, closed the door, and reclaimed his picture through the bars of the cage. The felidrake frantically tried to teleport out of the cage, but Telio just lifted it up, looked it dead in the eyes, and said, "My head is not a bed."

[Assistant]
Kelsier Solidor

 Kelsier studied the scetch, still half thinking about the magic rune earlier. He had some idea, from the stories his father has told, that there were forces and creatures out there that defied normal logic. He was brought to the present by Spook's explinaion of what they were up against. Teleporting, Canivrous Feline Dragons. Wonderful. The others immediately set to the difficult task, with various results, some hilarious and others painful. Kelsier just stood there, thinking about the task before he set to do it. These things are small, nimble and have sharp claws and teeth. Grabbing them bare-handed, even with bait, is going to be a painful experience for both you and the feilidrake...could try to chase them, and wear them down, but that would be equally exhausting. If only I had a net. No, wait they would just teleport out of it. His plotting was interrupted by Spook's dramatic revilation of the feilidrake's weakness. They can't teleport through metal... Then, a candlelight went on. Acting on his flash of genius, he hurredly got out of his coat. His coat was a heavy, armored jacket with many deep pockets that he usualy kept filled with stuff, some of it odd, like a carved wood doll, some of it cool, like a stone that he had found cracked open to reveal it's crystal geodes and some of it utilitarian, like some pencils and paper or flint and steel. With the stuff in the pockets to weigh it down, and the armor pieces, to pervent their teleportaion, Kelsier realized it could make a decent makeshift weighed net to catch a feilidrake or three.

 Coat waded up and in hand, Kelsier stalked the Feliedrakes with the patience of a predator. He obsered their movements, which were remarkably similar to the cats they resembed, and waited for the perfect opportunity. Kelsier got in a position he could sping from and then didn't move a muscle. Anyone who saw him, could only tell him from a statue by the rise and fall of his breath. He could have gone for one at a time, but the noblegirl's challenge had sparked his competative spirit. It took awhile, but there was a moment when three nearby feilidrakes converged to frolic and tumble. In an instant, he tossed his coat, which spead out and landed on top of the three critters. But one, either faster or luckier than the others, saw the projecile and swerved to avoid it. It ended up near the edge of the cloth and struggled to get away. Unfortunately, its claws got tangled in the weave. Kelsier quickly snatched that one, and it proceded to try and mangle his hand. However, Kelsier's gauntlet thwarted its efforts. Kelsier carefully gathered his coat into a sort of bag, not letting the occasionaly teleporting feilidrakes escape. Kelsier was slightly troubled. Now that I get a closer look, these things are rather cute. He though. It seems a shame to lock them in cages. What could Spook want with so many of them? I hope it is nothing insidious. With the three struggling felidrakes in his coat, he followed his route back to where they had made camp.

 He emerged into the clearing. "Can someone lend me a hand here?"  He said, loudly, showing the bag of squrming felidrakes and the one held gently but firmly in his right hand.

[User]
TEAM CARROT
"Peaceful, yes," Lily replied automatically, eyes once again closed as someone crested the stairs to the temple. "Quiet..." Her words were, as if on cue, punctuated by the pop of a disappearing felidrake. "...not quite."

She finally deigned to look up, glancing over the other redhead with a critical eye. Painfully tall for a girl, really, and she carried herself like a bird ready to take flight at the slightest sign of trouble, but she had a sweet face—and as far as Lily thought, redheads were clearly superior in every way.

As she finished her quick assessment, she idly scratched the felidrake's head with a finger. She'd learned—quickly—that were she to pause in petting the little beast for even a moment, there would be some very sharp claws digging into her legs. The cat dragon seemed to think it had found the one statue in the entire forest that was warm, soft, and came with petting limbs. Marvelously lazy creatures. She knew she always liked cats.

The other girl crouched down, and Lily raised an eyebrow, glancing down to make sure the drake wasn't startled into fleeing.

"It seems to like you, doesn't it?"

"Oh, I certainly hope so," she grumbled, nonetheless continuing to gently stroke the soft fur, carefully avoiding the spines on its back. "This little monster gobbled up half of my pork jerky, burped, and went straight to sleep. If it doesn't like me, it's playing games with me, and I don't appreciate that."

As reluctant as she was to disturb the little thing, Lily glanced over to where she'd set down her cage. "Seems a shame to cage them," she muttered, then turned back to Scarlett. "Wouldn't happen to have any iron bracelets on you? It'd tickle me pink to have one of these things on a leash."

Kalton