[System]
Age: 22
Gender: Female, but dresses and travels as a male
Race: Mura
Adrianna has dark straight hair with green eyes. Her complexion is a bit pale, largely unmarred with freckles or scars. Adrianna is very lean, but toned, and stands at 5 feet 7 inches tall. She binds her chest beneath a loose undershirt, though her chest is rather flat anyway. As she has cut her hair and dresses like a man, she looks much younger than she actually is. She does not have facial hair, and her voice sounds like she might not have hit puberty yet. She has no tattoos. If one looked closely, they might see that her ears are pierced, though it has been years since she wore anything in them.
Clothing:
Face:

Magic:
Healing- Adrianna can manipulate her own energy and the energy of others to heal. While her healing does not remove all scarring, it has saved lives before. Healing a lot wears her out, and she has traditional non-magic healing capabilities as well, which she uses more frequently than her magic.

Light Orb-Adrianna can create and control an orb of light to illuminate a dark area. It does not put off heat, however. She has good control over its size, and has recently learned how to "throw" it at people to startle or confuse them. It disappears if she loses concentration or it gets too far away from her.

Gear: She carries herbs, salves, and some basic medical supplies that she has gathered together in a pouch that hangs on her waist. Adrianna carries a small dagger in her left boot, and a two section bo staff, split, one on each hip. She also carries a sling-shot, and is able to use a bow, though she doesn't currently have one.

She carries flint and firesteel, some dried meat for rations, and a container of water in a satchel over her shoulder. In there is also a small book and writing utensil, in which she has drawings and information about plants and their many uses for healing, eating, and poisoning.

History: Adrianna currently travels as a man, as she is "on the run" from the Church. She doesn't usually think anyone is looking for her, though occasional bouts of paranoia keep her in hiding. When she first left, she was nervous about being a young woman traveling alone, and so she put on a guise and became a "healer for hire." She mostly uses non-magic healing, though occasionally infuses a bit of magic to prevent infection or prevent mortal wounds. The group she has traveled with for the last two years does not know for certain she is a mage, or even that she is a she…though there have been suspicions when men were able to walk within a few days of grievous injuries. No one asked, and "Adrian" didn't tell. After all, every man in their company of bandits had a story, and few of them wanted to share their own. Still, she could not stay in their company any longer…"Adrian" should have started growing facial hair, his voice should have deepened, and overall it was too much of a risk. So off she went.

[User]
Cecil wasn't making much of an attempt to be aware of his surroundings, all these people were effectively strangers and it would be risky to get involved with them; besides, a few of them had fairly big animals and he wasn't wanting to get muddled up in that. He was fine by himself, he had been like that for as long as he could remember which understandably wasn't a very long time. He hadn't been active for all that long, it had felt like a lifetime to him. With everybody minding their own business or getting in to the affairs of others, Cecil felt something strange pretty suddenly.

Looking out over the water there was something that was alerting him, something that was making him feel uneasy. There was some sort of threat off in the distance, but he didn't recognise what it was: just because he had these internal programs that were all a part of him didn't mean he knew what they were. He had to learn what certain alerts meant, with this one was one being one he was not familiar with at all. Frowning, he looked around to see if anybody else had noticed yet, but sure enough there was an announcement coming from somewhere. It was a fair sized wave that was travelling this way and by the announcement's guess it was going to possibly tip the boat. That wasn't good, there was no way he was going to be able to keep on top of the water if the boat was going to tip.

What was he supposed to do? He hadn't needed to deal with something like this before. Almost contemplating jumping in he decided it was probably best to follow the instructions and head to his cabin to get one of these lifejacket things, however that was supposed to help him. Dashing off quickly he dodged a few of the panicked people, running off to where he had been instructed to stay if weary or whatever and made a dash to grab this lifejacket thing. Quickly entering the rather small but cozy room he found what they must had meant, looking back to the outside to see some wearing the thing. It must had been it, so quickly he grabbed it and ran out, analysing others to see how you wore it. They were all told to remain below deck, but some groups of people appeared to be quite eager to be near an emergency hatch. These must've been the women and children who decided to create a bit of a panic, giving him the idea to try and blend in with them so he wasn't alone.

[Assistant]
Ethan was never, EVER going to get on a boat again. The seasickness was dreadful but manageable - he'd survive being queasy long enough to reach port. But now they were going to potentially capsize? He knew how to swim just fine, he'd spent plenty of time in the rivers around Kinsgrove, but just how far out were they? Worrying about himself aside there were children aboard the Marigold too, one of which was with him now. And bawling her eyes out. The Captain's insistence for calm and order did little in the face of panic, and panicking the passengers were. Picking up the child he looked around desperately before spotting her parents by the stairwell, calling for her. Cutting his way through the crowd, Ethan handed the girl over and gave the parents a reassuring grin - for whatever good that might do. He couldn't stop a wave from hitting this boat, his magic was nowhere near that powerful.

"Everyone, get to your quarters! Brace for the wave, do not come out unless explicitly told to!" Over the shouting and screaming, Kent's voice somehow rang above all of it. Already a head above most people he had an air of authority about him - one Ethan sorely lacked. Spotting his companion, the elder Magi gestured down to the decks below, pausing to wave another group down into the hull of the ship. "Make sure that everyone gets to their rooms safely! And go find the Captain, ask him if you can help in any way."

Ethan didn't know what people were going to ask of him, or what he could even help with. But orders were orders. "Uh... S-Sure! But what are you going to do...?"

"Stop the wave, of course. Otherwise people are going to die." How he would stop a wave was beyond him, but only three Magi - four, if their target was on board, were present. No normal person could hope to avert a disaster, not without magic. Demanding Ethan to get to work he watched the boy run down the stairs, sighing to himself. To the stern of the ship he went, narrowing his eyes and shielding them from the sun as he looked for the wave. Just off in the horizon to the east he could make it out, a rise in the water, unnatural in every sense of the word. The how and why of the wave didn't matter, he only needed to focus on saving the Marigold.

Uncertain of what to do with himself, Ethan approached the first crew hand he found, asking for directions. Seeing the insignia on the boy's shoulder he was instructed to help ensure passengers were ready for impact. Darting from room to room, the few he could find occupied, he gave a quick glance to see if people had their jackets on. With his magic it took him no time at all to pass through the halls, and just as well - the wave was closing in. Crew members were running to and fro, sealing hatches and locking bulkheads, ones not necessary for escape. Once the passengers were accounted for Ethan darted up the stairs, somehow finding his way to the command deck. Barging into the room he found the captain and crew staring out the windows, fixated on something just outside. The wave?

Kent's face was sheen, not from surf but from sweat, pure exertion. Hands extended towards the stern he had cast a spell, a large barrier surrounding the entirety of the Marigold. It was the extent of his power and he hadn't a clue if it might hold up, but he needed to try something. Gritting his teeth and placing his left leg back he braced, pumping as much magic into the barrier as it could. The wave rose up to meet him, climbing at least a meter over the railings and coming crashing down into the barrier with a thunderous roar. Shouting and pushing back as his barrier flexed he fell to one knee, his muscles straining and chest constricting, feeling like he might nearly lose consciousness. Just as it seemed that the barrier would fail the wave disappeared, leaving the Marigold rocking back and forth but, miraculously, upright. Looking up as a light spray soaked him, Kent smiled and sank to his knees and hands, breathing labored. He'd done it, somehow. Behind him he could hear the cheers of the crew above, but he hadn't the strength to even lift his head and acknowledge them, much less celebrate himself.

"C-CAPTAIN! PROBLEM!"

Ethan's eyes widened seeing it himself, and all cheers promptly died out as a deathly silence filled the room. A second wave several meters higher than the first had appeared, having appeared perhaps behind the first. Avoiding it was out of the question, and one look at Kent struggling to get his footing confirmed what they were all thinking. The Captain gave a shout to brace just as the wave rose above the Marigold, and with a deafening roar, several hundred tons of water bore down on the ship. Windows in the cabin were shattered and the room filled, the ship being thrown about like a toy under the force of the wave. People below were thrown about, and everything inverted as the ship was thrown onto its side, then ultimately upside down. Her hull now sat above water, and everyone on board - Ethan included, was beneath the waves.

The sound of faint chatter was the first sign he wasn't dead. His body felt heavy, clothing soaked and chilled to the bone, but he was alive. Ethan's eyes slowly opened themselves and he was mystified to find he was on the shoreline. Groaning, he lifted his head and slowly pushed himself up, looking around at the scene before him. Several small boats sat on the shoreline, and a few more still coming in from the water. A few familiar faces he recognized, the Ydra woman and her cat, the captain, some of the faces he briefly saw before the wave hit. Relief was quickly overshadowed by dismay as he looked down the beach further, noticing several people laid out and lined up, not a single one moving and several other people over them, crying or desperately trying to resuscitate them. Among them was Kent, skin pale and blue, with several crew members unsuccessfully trying to administer CPR. Not everyone had made it out then...

[User]
Her lungs were filled, and she turned her head to the side and coughed out heaps of the salty ocean water. She didn't remember the ship sinking. She was prepared, she thought, and then…

"There there. Take it easy, sugar." A soft and kind voice spoke, and Adrianna immediately looked over towards the source of the sound. The woman was likely a few years younger than Adrianna, though it was possible they were the same age. She was likely attractive, if she hadn't looked like a drowned rat, with makeup streaks along her cheeks from thick liner.

She patted Adrianna's back as Adrianna coughed up more water, but as her senses returned to her, Adrianna tensed and tried to get out of the woman's reach. Adrianna rolled onto her stomach, though her limbs felt like jelly, and began to scoot away. "Aw honey, calm down. Stay here. It's going to be okay. You have a few cuts on you. Let me look at them." She reached out once more for Adrianna, but the magi panicked.

"Don't fucking touch me!" She shouted. "Get away from me!!" Her voice sounded high compared to her usual calm, collected way of speaking. Fortunately, it could easily be attributed to the cracking that occurred in young men going through puberty. She twisted her arm from the woman's grasp, ending up on her back once more, and she scooted away a few feet.

The woman's kind disposition melted away and she glared at Adrianna. "You don't have to be such a jackass. A simple 'Thanks for saving my life' would do just fine." She glowered.

Adrianna had another coughing fit, and when she looked up again, her rescuer was preoccupied with someone else. Good. The last thing she needed was someone touching her and…trying to tend to her. Ugh.

As she got better control of her limbs, Adrianna moved off a little way from the others. She shed the jacket that had likely saved her life while she floated unconscious through the water, and possible led to her being dragged onto the shore and resuscitated. The woman was right. She did deserve a little gratitude, and she was right to be upset. But it was better for Adrianna to keep her distance for now, rather than get to close to someone. Last she remembered, there were hunters on that ship.

Her clothing was soaked, and unlike most of the other men, she wasn't ready to peel off all of her layers and let things dry. She did take off her pack, grateful she had attached it beneath the life jacket, and took off her boots before assessing the cuts the woman had mentioned earlier. They weren't bad, just a few on her arms, though a cut on the life jacket itself suggested she would have had a rather nasty piece of glass embedded in her chest if not for the bright orange vest.

Adrianna was glad she had wrapped her kit well, because most of the herbs and gauze still seemed to be dry. In the back of her mind, she knew the right thing to do was to take care of the others now—to help revive those who could come back, and then tend to their injuries. She knew it was the right thing to do, but she had to make sure she had her own faculties first.

One of the cuts on her arm needed to be stitched, but the other two simply shared a bandage wrapped around that region of her forearm. Fortunately, the stitching needed to occur on the non-dominant hand's arm, and she spent the next few minutes taking care of that. She could have healed herself… but someone had already noticed her cuts, and having them disappear would be pretty damn suspicious.
Once her immediate needs were tended to, Adrianna did her best to get her mind off of her still dripping clothing. She looked around instead, briefly taking in the people, and then looking beyond them down the shoreline, desperately hoping she would see a pier, or another helpful landmark of civilization.


[System]
Species: Kitsune
Age: 256 years old
Gender: Male

Appearance:
Kaito is of rather average adult height and build. Not particularly tall and has a rather slander build. He has messy brown orange hair and a rather boyish face with a disarming smile. Nothing that is particularly remarkable about him except well those fox ears on his head and that fluffy tail. He wears a dark red tunic, a gray pair of trousers, some sturdy boots and a black hooded cloak to finish things off. The quality of the fabric and dye of his clothing indicate that Kaito has significant financial standing.

Bio:
There are a lot of folklore tales about the origins of Kitsune. Some say they are foxes that have gained magical properties after turning hundred years old, others tell that they are native to a strange magical realm known as the fey wild and have used their magical abilities to travel to the current plane of existence. None of those stories are true and in good kitsune tradition Kaito tells them all.

Kaito was born 256 years ago in the mystical forest of Kaojiro. A place far away from the three kingdoms. When he reached adulthood at the age of hundred and fifty, the young kitsune decided to travel the world. After visiting various places Kaito found himself in the kingdom of Escudo. Intrigued by its wealth, Kitsune decided that such a lavendish lifestyle would suit him well. However, Kaito is not the kind of man that would work fair and hard to gain a fortune.

No, the kitsune decided that it would be much more efficient and fun to utilize his very particular skill set to extract as much wealth from all the merchants and nobles as he could in very underhand means. For many years he conned and cheated merchants and nobles alike out of their hard earned gold coins. This became such a problem that the government decided to intervene.

When the king's men finally caught Kaito 5 years ago a spectacle of a process was orchestrated. Merchants screamed "off with his head", nobles demanded blood. However Kaito valued his head and thus executed a different plan. The night before his decapitation he used his illusion magic to impersonate a fellow prisoner who had served out his sentence and was promptly released by the clueless guards.

For the next five years the kitsune managed to evade every bounty hunter, mercenary and soldier that tried to track him down. But that all changed when an elf working for the king started to ask questions in the more shadier parts of Rascade.

Skills:
Shapeshifting: Kaito can shapeshift between his fox and humanoid form.
Sleight of hand: Kaito's hands are extremely fast, accurate and he's a master of deception. He's an expert pickpocket and trickster.
Very sneaky: Kaito's ability to move around silently is unparalleled. He has a habit of suddenly appearing into people's personal space.
Lockpicking
Acting/deception
Multi linguistic: Speaks and reads the various languages of the lands of Escudo, Anggolinsto and Meche.

Spells:

Impersonation: Kaito can use his illusion magic to take on the physical appearance of people he has seen. His magic also changes the sound of his voice to match that of the person he's impersonating. However he still needs to act out the way they move and behave.
Illusion magic: Kaito can create Illusionary objects, creatures and terrain. These illusions include visuals, sound, sense of touch, smell and sense of temperature but cannot cause any harm.
Charm: Kaito can use his magic to charm people. Any person that gets charmed by him regards Kaito as a friend and is very likely to help the kitsune in any way that is reasonable.

Equipment:
Wakizashi short sword
Tanto dagger
Set of lockpicks
Shell game set
Set of Dice
Set of playing cards
Spare clothes
Camping equipment

[User]
The bearman stopped dead in his tracks as the glowing tessaract emerged from the vine encased barrier, then bloomed into a slowly spreading vapor that clung in the air.

More unbidden, but potentially useful memories drifted through his head then back out again. He and his dad had been trying to contain and reclaim the 'fungally overgrown' section of their home forest. His dad had warned him about the dangers of inhaling mists and particles, but had offered him one of his shirts, which he had plunked in the nearby stream.

"Don' breath 'at shi' in boy" he had said, while extending the wetted shirt. "Wrap dis 'round ya head, an' breaths through 'at."

The memory left as quickly as it came. The ominous cloud of mist continued to slowly rise into the room, causing the leaves on the vines to wilt almost on contact. He DEFINITELY did not want to breathe that in.

The pulled down curtain adorned the floor under his feet, which he quickly snatched up before scanning the room for something to wet it with. The elf woman's antics with the table had toppled all of the remaining drink decanters onto the floor rendering them useless for the task at hand. He needed something to wet it with, and soon-- As he hurriedly scanned the room, the realization that he had not gone to the little bear's room since Hdur came home to roost. He did not like the idea at all, but it was all he had to work with.

Drawing and huffing an irritated breath, he hiked up the front of his robes, shoved the brilliant red curtain into place with one hand, leaned against the wall with the other, then relieved himself of the fluid fraction of the stew he had ate the previous day, until the curtain was sopping wet, and the pungent odor of "male bear" hit his nose-- which wrinkled at the prospect of what had to come next.

He gave the wad of cloth a momentary queeze to distribute the 'moisture' evenly, paused half a moment, then draped the odorous rag over himself as if it were a table cloth, and he a table. The only thing he could see was red fabric, and the scent of "his own brand" dominated his offended nose.

He growled, then turned toward the barred entrance door, and began to body slam it.

[Assistant]
Acid? Godspit. Yvonne had seen what a magically conjured glob of those could do to flesh, she wasn't about to linger around and find out how painful exactly it was to quite literally melt off your own bones. There were two exits. One's at the other side, beyond the damnable mage's barrier and out of reach. The other was the entrance that was locked earlier. Would it be easier to break the windows? No, those were all stone and way too narrow.

The entrance, then.

"Someone hold back Ragnar, go!"

Disengaging, the mercenary's eyes locked on the heavy axe forgotten in the corner. To think that it's useful now, huh? She picked it up, grimacing at the sheer weight of the weapon and the insanity of someone who crafted the whole damned thing out of metal, but that's a boon now. The door was at least two inches thick, regular axe just wouldn't make it.

With an angry yell, Yvonne tapped into her inner strength as she swung the axe with as much force as she could. Over and over. Then Cedar came barelling with his bulk, the two taking turn axing and slamming to the stupidly sturdy door.

Will they make it? Yvonne didn't quite felt like turning back to look.

[User]
The enemy's heavy frontliner was down. Good thing because Jazdia didn't have to involve herself in another fight. Not possible considering she hadn't been able to break her own stalemate. The violet hue on her eyes had been returned when the Druid's conjured vegetation covered the wizard's shield, and he saw him preparing another spell.

And Veronica's shouting.

"Acid fog incoming! We need to get out of here!"

Even from this distance, the spreading vapor had started to contaminate the air with a sickly mustard-ish stench. Her eyes darted immediately toward the door. It was locked, but nothing explosive arrows couldn't handle.

She hated the idea of terrorizing the hapless henchmen had to be stopped now, but her priority was always clear. The elf leaped for Matilda and dragged her toward the exit.

"Come on! To the door! Double time!"

In her restless surveillance on the encroaching mist, the not-so-transparent-anymore-barrier, and the door, she saw the druid running around frantically and searching the pile of thrashed tableware. What he did next was unobservable as Jazdia had better things to do, like pushing Matilda not so gently and prepared her arrow, that fortunately had been enchanted prior to this tactical retreat. Again, that made her grit her teeth.

This would be the last time she looked back; The barrier was still up, the mist nearly reached her, and in that critical situation she saw the bear-- urinating?

Jazdia was lost for words, simply because she had to hold her breath to prevent toxic fumes from entering her lungs, or perhaps to maintain her sanity remained intact. The next bizarre thing that happened was Jazdia watching the urine-soaked fabric disgustingly waving like a very filthy cape as the druid propelled himself against the door and body-slammed it repeatedly. Like... err animal?

Sadly, communication, one of the most underrated aspects of society had been cut off from them. The notion that those guys could dispel their barrier any moment and shoot her when she was so occupied running from mist started to get on her nerve. In desperation, the elf drew her bow and aimed at the door, with a raging bear blocking it, hoping Cedar would take notice and move aside... Or somebody would be kind enough to nudge the stinky bear out of the way.

[Assistant]
Annoying, the big guy managed to dodge his attack in the nick of time. O well, the others seem to have more success. As the battle raged on it became clear that the magic enhancements of Ragnar seemed to fade out. Kaito's involvement was no longer needed as Yvonne, Chounan and Veronica were perfectly capable of handling the big warrior on their own.

For a moment the fox wondered what he should do. The big warrior was getting pummeled by his companions and the other enemies were hiding behind some sort of magic barrier while the big bad evil wizard was cooking up his next trick. And his next trick was certainly a fucking pain in the ass.

 "Acid fog? What a drag." sighed Kaito as he jumped over the table to help Jazdia drag the orc towards the door on their side. "We need to get out of here asap, but you already noticed that" The kitsune watched as Yvonne and Cedar frantically tried to brute force their way through the door. From his peripheral vision he noticed how the elf drew her bow only to have the bear stand in the path of her arrow.

With the acid fog creeping closer. Shouting and breathing became hazerdours, even for a centuries old mythical creature. Quickly Kaito grabbed the nearest plate and threw it at the bear to get Cedar's attention, while waving to him to get out of the way.

Looking behind the fox realized that they would be very vulnerable to the crossbowmen once their barrier would come down. If they weren't through the door by then. They would all be turned into pin cushions. Quickly he dropped the illusionary fake walls he had created and created a new illusionary wall right in the middle of the room. It would not block any arrows but at least it would block the vision of those damn crossbowmen. With a bit of luck, this would buy them enough time to get through the door.


[System]
Race: Aesir

Bio: Anya was born on the frozen glaciers of Asgard, the only child of the famous smith Soren Danicson. Anya was the surviving child of a pair of twins, her brother dying during childbirth. Her icy white hair, already present at birth marked her as particularly fated (for good or ill) by Ymir the Frost Giant. The shaman of the village counseled the heart broken Soren not to despair over his fallen son, and that the child's shade might yet enter Valhalla through the deeds of his sister Anya.

Although women were not typically called upon to bear arms, Anya's unique doom made her a special case. From the time she could work Soren trained his daughter in all the arts of war as well as in his smith craft. By the time she was ten should could run for a full day without rest and hold her own with sword, axe or spear as well as any man of eighteen summers. She wen't on her first raid against the Vanir at age sixteen and distinguished herself as a skilled and ruthless warrior. Over the succeeding years she became a champion and a war leader, leading her own raiding parties west into Vanirheim and south against the Cummorians. She developed a reputation for attacking unexpectedly, particularly in bad weather and in the snow, and savagely pressing the attack until the enemy was shattered.

When Soren Danicson was mortally wounded in a battle in the Cummorian marches, he told his daughter that the night before he had dreamed of Ymir the Frost Giant and that the time had come for her to venture out of Asgard and find the doom she had been promised. Anya left before her fathers body was cold, working her way south towards an uncertain goal, selling her sword and following the charnel call of the ravens.

[User]
The sun rose over far of Kosala, spreading across the Iranistani steppe to reveal two riders forging their way north towards the distant white capped daggers of the Ilbar Mountains. In the spring snow melt from those mountains would rush downwards in mighty torrents, wending its way towards the sea in a network of shallow creeks and rocky gullies that for most of the rest of the year ran at but a trickle. Like all steppe-land it was the preserve of nomadic headers rather than farmers, with herdsmen moving their flocks of goats or horned sheep from water source to watercourse with the season. Dawn had bought a few smuts of smoke from neglected cook-fires but from horizon to horizon no soul could be seen save for the two riders. That wasn't to say they weren't here of course. The steppe looked flat to a new comer, but deep gullies and short canyons could be concealed by the waving grass and a traveler might pass within bow shot and never know it until an arrow plucked them from the saddle.

The pair had set out from Kafir after midnight on fine roan horses which the Priest had purchased with coin which had impressed even Anya with its variety of denominations. The solution had been cleaner than her own plan of stealing the beasts, and as Abelard pointed out, lacked the problem of potential pursuit. As the Priest had said, the fact that Ibn-vakir had sent men to killed him argued for the veracity of his information, why else spend the hundred silver drachma to engage the Guild of Thieves to murder them? They had ridden as hard as they dared across such uncertain terrain, there was little doubt that news of the assassins failure would reach their paymasters in due time. They could hope it was carried by a horseman and not upon the wings of ravens or some other sorcery. Anya had made her name as a raider by riding hard and relentlessly and coming at her opponents unexpectedly. She saw little reason to change the habit of a lifetime now.

They drove on towards the headwaters of the River Ashan where the faithless thief had bragged that he had seen the fable Opal, though hadn't dared risk its retrieval. How it had come to rest in such a land, so far from the northern glaciers of its birth was lost to the knowledge of men, though perhaps, not that of Gods. Of their purposes they spoke little. Anya was unsure of exactly why her companion sought the jewel, perhaps only as any man seeks a thing that is vaulable, and of her own quest she had spoken only evasively. The peace between them was yet uneasy.

"Smoke!" Anya called as they cantered across a low shale bedded creek, their horses kicking up shimmering spray in the early morning sun. She pointed to a low dome of haze beyond a small hill more or less along their path. It was too significant to be a single cookfire.

[Assistant]
Abelard reined in his roan, the beast whinnying lightly in the crisp morning air. Anya and he had been riding through the night with barely a word passing between them once they had mounted the horses. He found he believed her story and her virtue, however. Her manner against her assassins and they way she moved had a surety to it that spoke of honesty. Perhaps it was the soldier in him, or the still very earthly mind of his that led him to trust her motives. But he knew, somehow, Asura had not spoken of her.

Her vision was correct, he saw a large pillar of smoke rising into the sky. It stood as a black line against the newly risen sun. Abelard dismounted, advising it was best they left their horses here tethered to what roots they could find. The two did so and drew their blades, creeping out of the creek-bed towards the signs of what Abelard knew to be their quarry, even if it were not what they truly sought. Advancing swiftly, they found a small rise that spoke of a sheer drop just before them. The two crouched and almost crawled toward the edge what seemed to be a large, dried waterway. Beneath them more than a score of men spoke and drank and ate a hearty breakfast, devouring the ribs of a great boar they had slaughtered likely the day before.

Iranistanian Horse nomads with their scalemail cuirasses and their strange spiked helms wrapped in cloth, sallow skinned and stout builds grunting in their rugged tongue. They looked armed for war, their horses tied to a small copse of trees within earshot. The nomads had made two cookfires separate from Ibn-vakir and four Stygian giants. Head and shoulders taller than any nomad, the giants were armed with iron tipped spears and shields made of wood and bronze. Queer torques of Set lay on their bare chests, splattered with the grog they drank greedily beside their fire. Their belts were inlaid with gold and Ibn-vakir wore a similar belt and torque atop his rogueish garb. Abelard nearly surged upwards to curse Ibn-vakir to the Gods, but he held himself for what he saw next.

Past the dried inlet was a structure, swept in style as the cloth atop the horsemen's helms. The opening was alien in design. Nearly perpendicular but many layered in stone, like the opening of a flower or the folds of a woman that so drove men mad. Abelard had seen sketches of such structures before in his studies that bespoke it a remnant of the Acheron Empire. It looked to have been rebuilt in an Iranistanian style and then buried in sand from some wild storm, only to have finally been revealed again.

"We cannot take rash action," Abelard whispered to his fellow traveler. He spoke to himself just as much as the Northern woman. The priest likely seemed a coward to the fierce warrior, but his only goal was to keep the Opal out of wicked hands.

[User]
"These are Khaseem Bai's men," Anya muttered pointing to a red banner that fluttered from a spear that was thrust into the earth. The silken flag was emblazoned with a black lions head that almost seemed to snap and snarl as the wind worked the fabric. Khaseem Bai was a name much on the tongues of the Iristani. It was said that he had come down from the deserts beyond the Ilbar mountains after the tribes of that inhospitable waste had put aside their ancient blood feuds to drive the renegade from their sands. Since that time he had preyed on the caravans and herdsmen of the step, snatching up city-dwellers and ransoming them for supplies and silver. It was said, among the hokah dens and drinking houses of Kafir, that no blade had ever drawn blood from Khaseem Bai and that he was protected by black and malign spirits. It did not surprise Anya that it had been he who had sent assassin's to kill them after learning Ibn-vakir had sold the same goods three times.

"If they know their footpads have failed they don't show it," Anya observed. Indeed, the mood in the camp was alert but the men did not seem alarmed. As she watched a paunchy man hauled a cauldron of soup from the fire and bawled something unintelligible from this distance. The various cut throats ambled towards him to take their mourning meal.

"Strange, I don't see Khaseem Bai among them," Anya noticed, her keen eyes having finished their survey of the camp.

"Indeed you do not," came a deep basso voice from behind them. Anya whirled her hand going to her blade but freezing as the point of a spear pressed against her throat. Two similar weapons were leveled at Abelard. The men holding them had the dark sun burned skin of desert tribesmen and the hooked noses and slightly slanted eyes of the lands beyond the Ilbar mountains. Their leader was a muscular man in a tunic of white silk. His eyes were dark and burned bright with intelligence and his face was handsome in a brooding way. His legs were covered with armor of tooled leather that gripped the side of a galloping horse so a man could use the short recurve bows in fashion in these parts. The thugs with him were dressed less finely, but Anya wagered all of them were veterans who had come south with Khaseem Bai. The must have snuck around them through some hidden ravine, though they had done so with so little sound that even Anya's razor keen senses had been deceived.

"But do not worry," he said with a formal bow that would not have been out of place in the court of Aquilonia, "Khaseem Bai sees you."

[Assistant]
A strong east wind blew over the desolate earth as Abelard raised his hands in supplication, having dropped his sword and staff. The light of the newly risen sun glinted off the spearheads, their edges sharpened to pierce both flesh and mail. A cry of curious demand in Stygian rose behind them. The two were quickly relieved of their weapons and taken to the camp below to be surrounded by harsh lancers, ebony tribesmen of fierce strength, and towering thugs of stygian strain. Out of the crowd poked Ibn-vakir who was short enough to step through the legs of one of the giants. He spread a smile of teeth the color of mule piss save for the missing teeth so far not replaced with any wealth.

Two of the nomads had brought forth a wooden chair covered in skins that Khaseem Bai reclined upon, sitting as arrogantly as if he were the newly crowned king of Iranistan. In one hand he held his spear while in the other he nipped at an apple unfamiliarly, the fruit a strange sight in this unforgiving land. No doubt a sign of his fortune and prestige. He must be drunk on his own power if he thought that would intimidate Abelard and particularly the warrioress Anya. Even though he attempted to keep earthly matters from his mind, Abelard fretted the imminent fear of death in equal measure to how the smell of the pork churned his stomach.

"How strange to find such two foreign jackals." Ibn-vakir said. His smile spread like the plague with his mustached pulled along as well. "Better kill these two quickly, my lord. We cannot have word getting out on the location of the Opal."

Abelard laughed suddenly, one of the first times he had shown any emotion since meeting Anya. He grinned as feircely as any cimmerian barbarian. "You little fool, Ibn-vakir. You did not think we would ever meet with your precious master, did you? Khaseem Bai you are called? This one had already given me the location of the Opal, and had promised to deliver the same to this one beside me. He then wished to join the winning side and lied to you, telling you we were already in pursuit of the prize. He wished for your assassins to silence us, so that you may never learned he attempted to buy your trust with deceit."

Ibn-vakir paled, the grog in his stomach finally wearing off on his mind. Khaseem Bai's face, at ease before, was now a mask of fury and disgust. With a simple wave of his hand he had two of the giants grab Ibn-vakir the wretch.

"No master! He lies!" The thief shrieked in terror as he was rooted into the ground. Almost ritualistically, and it likely was knowing Set's laws, one of the giants took his belt knife and cut open Ibn-vakir's stomach. Blood and bile and a putrid stench erupted from his torn open belly. The thief sank to his knees, eyes wide opened in death. Despite himself, Abelard found it satisfying. His claim had also been a bluff without divine intervention, but seeing as Khaseem Bai did not correct him, his bluff had been correct and the warlord's side of the claims were confirmed plausible.

[User]
Khaseem Bai watched the execution without much interest before turning back to his two prisoners. His eyes were dark and intelligent and had a pragmatic cruelty about them as he measured each of them.

"Well one of the two of you looks fearsome enough to have given the Thieves Guild pause," he declared. Anya relaxed ever so slightly. It would be better to die fighting than to be killed in chains but it seemed that the bandit lord had other plans for them, else he would scarcely bother to keep them alive.

"As it happens without Ibn-vakir I will require someone to guide me to my treasure, perhaps..." he drew a long knife from his belt and tossed it into the dirt between the two prisoners, "the survivor would be interested in such a position?"

Anya glanced sidelong at the priest, perhaps she could kill him before he could employ his arts, perhaps not, but either way it seemed of little matter. By herself it would be difficult, perhaps impossible to overcome Khaseem Bai and his men, and much as she hated to admit it, Abelard could be an ally to her in that.

"Lord," she said in his own tongue, with which she had a passing familiarity from time spent as a pirate up in Villayet, "I could cut this whelps throat as you ask, but what if Ibn-vakir told lies to all of us, perhaps together we have enough of the truth to pass the traps he described and reach the Opal." Kasseem frowned, arching a dark eyebrow.

"Traps?" he asked, it wasn't clear if he believed the Aesir woman, but there was enough uncertainty in his voice that she knew she had him.

"There are three traps Lord," she proclaimed, confident for all that these traps existed, so far as she knew entirely in her imagination.

"Fool!" Abelard broke in, "There are five traps each more fiendish than the last! I learned of them in my study and I make Ibn-vakir tell me what he knew of them!"


[System]
Nickname: Optional
Race: Human
Age: 21.
Gender: Female.

Appearance: Picture or description. Use a hider.

Proportionality:
Weight: 63 kg
Height: 1.73 m
Frame: Atlethic Use a hider.
_______________________

Personality:- Wylde is an extremely straightforward person. She does what she wants, says what is on her mind and doesn't hold back for no one. She prefers company over solitude and has been known to search for people to spend time with. Due her work as a duelist for hire, she is used to traveling and loves it. Additionally she loves to meet new people and duel them if the chance presents itself. Warrior, mages, rogues, archers and all others, she loves experiencing new challenges and actively seeks out strong opponents. As a last note to mention she enjoys alcohol a lot. Especially before and after fights or when it's full moon.

Job: Duelist

Fighting Style: When without weapon, Wylde's main fighting style on extreme mobility and footwork that allows her to dodge and position herself for fast retaliation strikes, targeting vital points.

Weapons from strongest to weakest: – Rappier > long sword > dagger .
Armors/Outfits Besides a single armguard on her left hand and a kneeguard on her right leg, she wears no other armor. As clothing she wears light so it doesn't affect her mobility.

Familiar: Naisha

Familiar Abilities: Allows for ice magic to be used. Grants complete immunity to frost. Passive- keeps the user's body temperature stable even at extreme conditions. Weak to fire.
Movement Type: Is it Stationary like a sentry? Does it fly? Or does it walk and run?

Familiar Size: Medium (Human height.)

Relic Weapons: Light blue rapier, that gives off a cold haze around it as it eminate with frost energy.

Relic Armors: An armor that coveres her entire right arm. It's light blue in color like her the rapier and is cool on touch. It overwrites anything she has on her arm and replaces it until dismissed.

Trance: In trance, Wylde's speed triples along with her reflexes. Her body seems to get even slender, but without losing any physical strength. Her body starts to shine in pale blue and her weapon usually turns into crystal.

- The way Trance is activated is through stress and emotions. So tension can induce this.
- Your body can shift form due to the sheer power. Such as changing figure a bit.

Pros- Your Strengths. Extremely fast, hard to hit and has devastating counters, the ice magic combos well with her fighting abilities, has a lot of practice in fighting.
Cons- Your weaknesses. Dependent on dodges, has low health, doesn't have magic besides her familiar's

Background: Wylde was born in the capital of Alexandria. Daughter of a small noble, it was decided she will be a member of the military since the day she was born. As a young child she showed extreme promises as she seemed to be a natural athlete. By the age of 17 she had proven she is indeed worthy of the army and was already considered an accomplished duelist with great potential. The life in the army didn't suit her though. She was always catching herself looking in the far distance and down towards the misty lands, yearning to go out on her own into the vast open world. Many times during guard duty, she would sneak away into the library to read of distant lands and monsters that one couldn't see near Alexandria.

 It was two months after her 17th birthday that she finally decided she will leave the army and head out on her own. Her choice was not received well by her family and her superiors, but she had already decided and there was no way anyone would stop her really once her mind was made up. She left her uniform behind and set out with the first airship that left the capital. She didn't even ask where they were headed, she was going to find out when they arrived!

[User]
Hitori looked at Cassius and couldn't help but smile, "The Sentiment is greatly appreciated Cassius but I have no right to the Title of Sir. I eschewed any claims to all perceived claims and airs of nobility quite some time ago. Hitori will do just fine."

"Beach Please, you as a Glubbin Noble would be a Reel Riot." a Feminine Voice could be heard in his head.
"Why must you heckle me Siren..." Hitori thought.
"Cuz I know you're hankerin for some Catfish." Siren teased, Hitori didn't even dignify that with a response.

The Ada doll noticed Cassius offering jobs willy-nilly and started Warbling in protest as if Cassius could actually understand him in that current state. "Calm down Ada, you'll just tire yourself out." Hitori chided the Doll.

[Assistant]
Karn smirked in amusement as it took a moment for the woman to realize the situation while she ate, almost choking on it. "Mhmm yes, so far this little job has been quite a CATastrophe. And with having a bomb cannonballed at you, it has been quite a blast." she replied, smirk never leaving her lips. Emerald gaze watching the dualist basically inhale the food given. It wasn't much, but for now it is what the Tantalus group had. Usually, Ruby was the one to make a bit more decent meals. Huh.... in fact, wonder where she was? The blonde couldn't remember where she last saw her fellow crewmate. The only other female member that everyone was sort of quick to bolt from. Mhmm maybe she was just around the ship getting things spick and spam like everyone else.

Giving a slight laugh at the cat puns made, the feline couldn't help but actually let out a deep purr that vibrated against her chest and throat. It wasn't often she found someone who actually enjoyed the jokes and returned them just as much. A purrfect match indeed. It was like she could feel cupid's arrows bouncing right off of her. Oh yes, she liked this woman. Anyone making a pun was good in her book. At the question of what the feline was going to do with this newly discovered stowaway, she gingerly tapped her chin with a soft hum. Feeling the smooth leather of her gloves brush against her fair skin.

"Well.... Here we are, in the dark cargo hold with only a little lantern lighting up the place. Just the two of us, with possible death and destruction awaiting us in what could be minutes to hours. I wouldn't mind putting that blanket to its other use." Karn answered playfully with a flirtatious grin, winking a glowing emerald cat eye. She wasn't quite serious about it since this was definitely not the time, but she couldn't help her more playful side.

"Otherwise, should probably report to the Boss and announce our new arrival. Get to see our catnapped Gemstone too." The feline continued before flicking her ear at the other question and gave a smirk and shrug. "Well you can say I just find quite a bit of amewsment from telling punny jokes." she answered, watching Wylde return to the box she had been hiding in and took out a rapier. At the request for a leg message, the thief cocked her right eyebrow slightly and grinned a bit in amusement.

"Surprise not everything is numb and uncomfortable. But I'll give a beautiful lass like you a kneading massage for a discount of 100 Gil. Or another kiss. Whichever." Karn purred a response with amusement.

[User]
Randy simply seemed to stand around and watch for a few moments. Being down below in the engine room or having been down there with quite a few people. One of them being his boss, another a merchant and a possible coworker of sorts in the future and a person with what seemed to be an animated doll. It seemed more than enough of an awkward situation and seeing as the boss was around and there events currently on going or at least he had suspected such. He could not simply slip away into a daydreaming fantasy, most work he could currently do seemed to be done and patched up with the materials he could find. It seemed to hold together well enough for the moment but he was definitely unsure about its sturdiness and how long it may last, especially if more trouble or violent 'critics' came along once more because of the performance. He continued to run that inside joke inside his skull and probably would keep tightly held onto it.

It seemed the one named 'Hitori' had briefly gone on about clouds as if going into a fantasy of some sort. Randy could not really blame him. Although he long knew that the clouds did not contain this 'wonder' except perhaps in imagination and through the mind. For a moment Randy could not help himself from staring out the window as well. Starting to drift out, slowly and unnoticed by the rest of his conscious mind. As he looked out toward the clouds and began to drift into them in a mental sense.

Randy did not come back until Cassius had approached him and even then it seemed to take a few moments for the words to get across. He really ought to try and nip that day dreaming habit in the bud, or whatever the appropriate saying was. Seems like he might not be able to finish his projects if all things went to hell. Oddly, he could not feel much panic for himself but instead rather for the projects and some certain others. "Okay." Randy responded simply. "Bye, and in case we or at least I die. See you later." He oddly felt a small grin creep up on his face He immediately went off to look for the workers, high and low to gather them. Finding a place that was structurally sound among the ship? The engine room seemed, to be fairing but puncture all around. The cargo hold might be the next safest bet, as long as most crates and so on were safely strapped down or would not fly about in a crash scenario. He would have to check that later or perhaps a brig if it was large enough.

[Assistant]
"Well since this ships is still flying and assume you managed to deal with the bomb and the soldiers well enough." Wylde said with an approving nod before she finished attaching the rapier's sheath on her belt. She did vaguely wonder what the general was doing, she probably would have been able to wipe the crew of this ship very fast so why wasn't she involved in this battle? This was a interesting question she had no answer to.

 "Remind me about this idea later, when we aren't in danger of the ship falling out of the sky..." The duelist stated with a smile at Karn's comment about putting that blanket to good use." I will be sure to give you a most purring experience then~" She stated before leaning in and giving the other woman another kiss. This one was about as long as the previous one before she pulled away and nimbly sat on one of the bigger boxes. So Karn can have easier time massaging her legs.

 "Come on now, I was very serious earlier when I said I wanted that massage~" She stated with a smile, her legs moving back and forth." I want to go meet your boss afterwards, I need to complain about the way my box was treated during loading... I almost developed clawstraphobia from it." She said with a smirk. She hadn't use this many puns before as she did in this conversation with Karn. It was very amusing, but at the same time she knew most people would go insane from listening to it.

[User]
"Purrfect enough I suppose." Karn answered about the whole taking care of the opponents question. The bomb could of turned out better and the blonde didn't enjoy how it turned out... but what was done is done and she had little time to mourn over the dead. Perhaps the next time she was in Alexandria. Most of the soldiers that managed to get on the ship were small fry. The big badder generals were probably by the Queen, and didn't exactly expect the Princess to be snatched from under their noses. Course, helped the Princess was being catnapped willingly.

At the flirtatious answer and another kiss as payment, another pleasant amused purr rumbled in her throat as her sly emerald eyes watched the taller woman with a soft chuckle. "Definitely won't furget." she hummed, watching Wylde take a seat on one of the bigger boxes, legs gingerly moving to and fro as she prepared for the paid massage.

With a chuckle, the blonde moved closer, gloved hands reaching toward the slender legs and gingerly ran her fingers over them. "Alright Alright. Not going to be a purrfect one with your clothes on, but a bit of pawing should make your legs not tingle anymore." Karn chuckled before looking over the offered legs, mostly covered in leather. Her fingers gripping and pressing firmly against the covered flesh over the left leg. Expertly circling her thumbs along the more upper side of the leg while the rest of her fingers focused on the bottom, pressing and kneading to rid of any knots she felt while also ridding the numbness and waking the leg up. The Demi-Human's fingers working from the foot, to the ankle and calf, the knee and then even the thigh before switching to give the other leg the needed attention.

"Well, if you just paid for the normal pay to get a ride so you don't have to ride in a box, you probably wouldn't have had a catastrophic time. We aren't usually a travel agency." The feline chuckled, her emerald gaze not leaving her work. "But pretty sure Boss won't pay you much mind at the moment." She chuckled.

[Assistant]
Wylde let out a pleased sigh as she felt Karn massage her legs. This was a bliss, a good massage was always worth it's pay and this time she basically got a steal~ This demi human was pretty darn good and for just a kiss this was perfect! She basically felt the numbness and the stress in her legs melt away as she let a pleased moan this time when Karn switched the legs.

 "You so missed you calling~" The duelist said with a smile to the demi human." You would have been the purrfect massagist. People will be clawing their way to get a turn~" She smiled as the demi human finished with the massage and the duelist quickly jumped on her feet. Stretching a little to check if everything was fine." Ehhh... could do with some more, but I suppose this will be alright for now."

 "Well I asked around and I was told you guys don't ferry people around. So I decided to go with the box~ It's usually quite calming. Quiet and if you aren't treated roughly very pleasant experience allowing for a lot of resting." The duelist explained with a smirk." Besides I once traveled this way with a friend of mine, just remembering it makes me smile. We so should have chosen a bigger box back then." She laughed melodically before turning back to Karn.

 "Alright, I suppose you can now take me to your boss~ This will be interesting hehehe " She mused, throwing curious looks around." Besides, I should pay my respects to the catnapped princess~ I've only seen her from afar before."


[System]
Nicknames: N/A
Team Position: Assault/Supporting fire
Age: 21
Gender: ♀
Year at Ace Academy: 2nd Year
Appearance: Rio is a tall and slender woman, standing at a proud 1m86. She usually wears a bit of lipstick and eyeshadow, but doesn't touch other make-up. Her face is thin and sports small features, making her eyes and mouth seem further apart than they really are. She has ruby eyes. Her hair is long, minty geen but usually tied up into a ponytail which reaches 3/4ths down her back. Even when not in uniform, Rio prefers to dress formally so you'll usually see her sporting a suit of some renown.

Personality: Rio's a bit stuck up and snobbish, looking down on everyone but only letting it show ever so slightly. That's not to say she's heartless, you can certainly get a good conversation going with her if she lets you, but Rio's not the type to easily hand out compliments.

Biography: Born in the Hamasaki family, Rio wasn't missing much when she grew up. The Hamasaki's built their legacy on selling high-quality electronics and eventually got into the Gear business, making quite a bit of revenue come their way. This lead to the classic case of 'Rich Kid Syndrome' for Rio, as she was enlisted in some of the most expensive academies Japan had to offer. She was constantly pressured into studying, leaving her a bit of a loner up until the later years of her highschool life where she formed a small clique of friends. Rio never really had a boyfriend, which pains her enormously because every guy she's ever had a crush on either rejected her or were already together with someone else. They also tended to all be interested in Gears, so she herself decided to dabble into it as well.

Much to her parents' dismay, this caused Rio to choose to become a Gear pilot rather than inherit their business, but she figured they could shove that responsibility on her two years younger brother. She's kind of stuck down this path, too, as she actively lashed out against her parents to let her do this.

She was enlisted in Ace and soon was faced with the harsh reality that there were, in fact, people that were better at this whole piloting thing than she was. She repeatedly got crushed in combat, and it frustrated her at the time, but she at least humbled up a bit and stopped being a stuck-up bitch to everyone. One of these crushing encounters was against Bill Atlas - now her team leader - in which he delivered swift justice with his fast melee style. Rio learned that, even though she is a ranged combatant, she can still let melee gears slip through if she lets her guard down. It doesn't prevent her from holding a grudge about it, though. The studies were much harder than she expected, too; while she'd been breezing through much of her schooling up to that point, she had troubles keeping up with Ace Academy. Now she's going to try and prove herself this year after barely scraping by last year. She's not going to be the problem child of the Hamasaki's!

---

Combat Section

Strengths: She's a calm thinker and is quick to adapt when things go south. Great at thinking up both short-term and long-term strategies when the situation calls for it. She isn't the greatest at mid-range, but she performs above average if nothing else due to a steady aim.

Weaknesses: Arrogance leads to overconfidence, so she can bit off more than she can chew sometimes. She doesn't like being ordered around, especially when it goes against what she personally thinks is 'best'. Despite having good theoretical skills, she can flake when putting it in practice. She's not great in the short range either, mostly due to having little experience with gears that come up close.

Neutral Values: Long-range combat and support roles.

Other: N/A

---

Gear Section

Gear Designation: Hamasaki Manufact. Customized Model 43CHUTE

Nickname: Union

Weapon(s):
Union is equipped with a Kinetic rifle that fires automatic rounds. The clip is reloaded as it fires, but can't go on endlessly. A set amount of bullets are loaded in, and if Rio continuously fires she'll end up depleting her clip before it can catch up. They're meant to pierce armor, but deal less damage to the gears themselves. This is a weapon meant for softening up the foe rather than outright killing them.

Union is also loaded with a couple of energy grenades (4 per combat) that, similarly, don't do much to damage the foe but rather pierce through shields. Unfortunately, this is a rather slow way to punch through their defenses and is more used for forcing the enemy to move.

The last of Union's weapons is a short range energy dagger. It's not meant to fight a melee Gear head-on, but serves as a last line of defense in case the enemy comes close. Unlike the previous two weapons, this one is designed to deal extreme damage on contact, but is hard to hit due to being so short.

Base Parameters:
Strength: C
Endurance: C
*Armor Quality: B
*Shield Quality: C
Agility: D
Energy Level: B
Long Range Quality: B
Short Range Quality: D

[User]
Enough time passed since Rio left the group to find herself sitting on one of the benches in the academy's courtyard, staring blankly at the sky above. Her mind kept re-playing how the day went, trying to figure out how she found herself in this situation. She was an idiot not to join a team earlier- she shouldn't have dawdled like she did. Now Rio found herself in a barely functional team, of which one member got on her nerves to a painful degree. But what did she really think of all her new team members?

Atlas was the only person she's ever really interacted with in the past, and now her current team leader. His skills were nothing to sneeze at, but it made her angry when she thought back on how he made a fool out of her. Even more so when he keeps trying to be humble and play his own abilities off as nothing special- rubbing salt in the wound by implying Rio's skills are subpar. But he's the only one she can't argue with, as much as she'd like to. His actual leadership skills also left something to be desired- why did he bother reviving the team if he wasn't up to the task? The more Rio thought about it, the less she seemed to like Atlas...

And then... Laudat. He is every bit as indecisive as she'd imagined, slacking off at every opportune moment. Well, it didn't seem to hamper his skill in the simulation at least. As long as Laudat kept performing, Rio shouldn't have to worry about that slacker. There was also Sara, who seemed to be the only reasonable one out of all of them... and also the only female besides Rio on the team. Figures. She had her head on her shoulders and seemed engaged enough, which makes Rio wonder how she ended up on a disfunctional team like theirs to begin with. Considering her skill and the sponsors she claimed to be able to get, it was surprising that the girl hadn't been picked up by another team...

Then the last person of the merry little band was... Gurevich. A snide know-it-all who's got it all figured out. If they were such a hot-shot then Rio would have preferred them to have found some other team befitting of their 'genius' and 'talent'. Still, she was stuck with them... the best she could do was avoid talking to him when she could. Still, with a team like that... their chances looked slim. They couldn't even form a cohesive unit against level forty AIs... most teams at this point could easily take up to ten levels higher.

Rio shook her head, dismissing those thoughts. They were freshly formed and had no idea what each other's GEARs were capable of, of course they'd be disjointed. She pondered calling off the meeting- it's not like Rio was in any rush to take over the family business. All her father would be trying to accomplish is giving her a taste of the experience, anyway. Plus, she can't defend her own performance out there. It was frustrating to think about, but she struggled with a single brawler while the rest of the team cleaned house around her... she was not going to be the weak link. She's tired of always being the weak link...

A buzzing from Rio's pockets snapped her back to reality, seeing it as a text from her roommate. Seems they were out for a while, so Rio had the room for herself for a while. Since she had nothing better to do, Rio headed back to her dorm to get some rest and put this hectic first day behind her.

[Assistant]
Bill walked through the campus until he got to his own dormitory not too far away from the main campus itself. He wondered if he was right in being selfish enough to take the lead of this party. He was no leader, and he held no special qualities that would make him a leader. He wasn't his grand father, or his cousin. He certainly wasn't no super star in his own right. Thrones, and the other crews were going to destroy him if he didn't get his act together. Masurao...no he needed to stop mixing the names Exalted was it's name now; was the machine that he had to rely on. Better than the normal gears here it could outperform most gears that weren't privately made. It's output was a danger to anyone it was put against. It's primary mode of attack was overwhelmingly devastating offense. It could attack in swift, and deadly barrages that could shatter enemy gears to pieces. But was he really good enough to use it? He didn't think so not yet. He needed to get better. He had to believe in himself more now than ever. If not for himself then for those around him who followed him.

He entered his own room after going through the crowded halls meeting some old faces, and new ones he wondered who exactly was going to be a big challenge. He hoped he could destroy the small fries first. If he was put against the big guns immediately he was worried he would be shoved into a corner and disregarded for the rest of the season. He had to consider all the variables...but there were too many to think for ahead of time. Best course of action was simple: plan as things came. No use over complicating things especially when his team was so basic. Bill had to find comfort in knowing Yasumi didn't abandon him. Maybe it was because he wouldn't be accepted by anyone else? Or was it because he wanted to be here?

Bill's room was simple it was lightly furnished, and had very few posters here and there. The posters were all of his cousin's team. All of them were from the older era meaning he was still a part of Team True Souls back before they were disbanded. It was like that because he wanted to believe he could match up to them one day. His older cousin was always a hot head, and a pain apparently according to their grand father. But he made it BIG he was a hot star in America right now with his professional debut in the big leagues. Bill would never raise that high but he wanted to make their grand father, and his own father proud. "I promise...I'll do better...I know I will." Bill said collapsing on the bed after pulling off his uniform shirt, and tie. "There is no doubt out there there is victory, or defeat..." Bill said mumbling the words his father told him once long ago as a kid. Cheesy? Yes. Inspiring to him? Yes. Those were the words that would keep him going.

====

Next day: 12:00 Lunch Time

The day had come to a start at Ace once again. The day was warm, and humid but otherwise it was a perfectly serviceable day. Many of the pilots were off with their teams, or going off to cafes in the city itself. As Ace Academy was a college it had no strict lunch period, and time schedule though very few students had night classes at the school due to their sparsity. Once more Bill sat by himself in the pilot lounge he had decided to eat here again due to the fact that other people may be interested in joining in with them, and because he didn't have the money for multiple trips to school and back this week with public transport. Besides he was a team captain now and he didn't have the time to do the things he wanted to. He had been working in class a lot today but he had a computer pad on his desk ready to search up all he could about prospective teams to learn from, and the ones they may fight in the finals.

Taking cues from professional pilots would help a lot but he couldn't depend on all of it. The others had their own styles to force them to adapt to a professional level would be stupid. He could only wonder if Yasumi was happy about playing back seat in this game. He would only go in if Bill, or anyone else was unable to. In doing so he had pretty much subjected himself to be on the back burner.

The pilot lounge was not as crowded as yesterday as people had classes, and or were already setting up for the piloting tests tomorrow. Bill ran his hand through is hair as he chewed on his food. He silently questioned why such a simple job was so much of a pain.

[User]
Rio lazily stared out the window of the Campus' local café, eyes scanning the courtyard and watching people interact with each other. Some people were spending their time talking, others were eating together on one of the benches or on the grass. Some were playing frisbee, but all of them weren't doing anything interesting. Still, Rio had nothing else to look at and it wasn't like there was anyone sitting at her table. Her roommate was out in town with a friend and she didn't know many other people here, so Rio was stuck on her own for the lunch break. Not that she minded, Rio didn't consider any of these faceless idiots worth her time anyway. She was already in a bad enough mood from class, which was just reviewing the material they had seen last year. She understood that they needed to blitz through it again to catch up any transfer students, but it was still highly annoying how the school didn't make any advancements in their lessons.

The clanging of a porcelain teacup caught Rio off-guard and she whipped her head back to see that the Chamomile tea she ordered was now on her table. Rio politely smiled at the waiter and made the quick credit transaction, then proceeded to stir the tea with the spoon she'd be given. Rio hadn't eaten yet, nor was she planning to. All she needed for now was a drink, she'd go grab a bite later. Her next class was cancelled anyway, apparently the teacher had to go somewhere and didn't have time to teach the class. So much for being a top-rated academy...

The girl took out her phone and swiped it a few times, thinking if she should bother someone but ultimately deciding against it. The boredom was really starting to settle in, but Rio didn't have anywhere in particular to go. She fiddled around with a game for a bit, completely forgetting about her tea.


[System]
Edric Beaumont

Image Credit: Swietopelk on DeviantArt
General Characteristics
Nickname(s): Ed (Rarely used), Master of the Mystic Arts (Self-proclaimed)

Age: 36

Gender: Male

Race: Human (Elven ancestry)

Place of Origin: Overseas

Occupation: Hedge Mage/Adventurer (Unaligned)

Eyes: Electric Blue

Hair: Long, Greasy, Black

Height: 5'8"

Weight: 150 lbs

Build: Slender, Lean Frame

Complexion: Slightly pitted

+Traits: Eccentric, Clever, Inquisitive

-Traits: Power-Hungry, Enigmatic, Unconventional

Family: Ellara Beaumont (Twin Sister - Deceased), Alec and Jeane Beaumont (Parents)

---

Life
Warlock, pagan, conjurer, necromancer. All these charges and more has Edric Beaumont been accused of in the seventeen years he's inhabited the mainland. An outlander from the East, past Brevyon's far gray shores, Edric's reputation as an occultist and mystic has garnered him awe, fear, deference, and hatred from the common folk. Ill of fate and fortune, few have forgotten Ellara Beaumont's passing several years before; fell victim of a disease incurable by salve or potion. Divine punishment, some claimed: retribution from the heavens for Edric's ties to sorcery. Others were of the mind that Edric killed her, himself; carving out her heart and feasting upon it to appease some demon of incomprehensible malevolence. Or worse, even, performing sacreligious experiments on her corpse in the pursuit of forbidden knowledge.

Still, few made these accusations known beyond hushed whispers and rumored half-truths as he walked by, rightly hesitant to arouse the wrath of a sorcerer. Yet, Edric either ignored or did not hear the murmuring of the townsfolk, associating with others as little as possible. Almost never remaining in a single place for long, Edric's arrivals and departures were quiet, without announcement or celebration, yet many claimed that he carried the cruel hand of fate with him like a brand, dooming those around him to suffer misfortune.

An adventurer by trade, Edric was accompanied always by a single great gray wolf, a creature as loyal to its master as any trained hound. The wolf seemed to shimmer with every step, looking corporeal one moment then transparent the next, as though its constitution was a billowing of smoke.

His travels were in pursuit of the arcane, seeking out old caves, tombs, and ruins for enchanted relics to hoard somewhere unknown. His journeys took him all across the country, though he avoided Brevyon for obvious reasons, remembering all-too-well the treatment of mages even by those back home across the sea.

Yet, even now his motives are unreadable. Whatever incentive drives the spellcaster forward is as aloof and incomprehensible as he is, leaving the gossips and rumormongers to answer for him.

---

Personality
A bohemian in both appearance and mannerism, Edric is offbeat and eccentric; a darkly mysterious sorcerer with a near-fanatical obsession with the occult. Disheveled and unkempt, Edric's general flouting of social norms and conventions have attributed to many of the wild accusations charged against him, no doubt steeped in his association with the unnatural. Though generally courteous and polite, Edric possesses an uncanny ability to put others on-edge with his odd demeanor; eerie, humorless smile; and sharp, penetrating gaze.

Clever and inquisitive, with a insatiable thirst for knowledge, Edric has devoted the last seventeen years of his life towards plundering tombs and ruins, seeking lore and enchanted artifacts. In contrast to many wizards who spend their days locked in towers committing hundreds of tomes to memory, Edric favors firsthand experience and practical application: focusing on versatility and a diversity of spells to wield at his disposal.

Deeply introspective and contemplative, Edric styles himself as something of a mystic: prone toward sage-like quotations and general observations of the world around him that range from practical to nonsensical, with little correlation between the two. Unfortunately, this aspect of his personality has done little to assuage the commoners and peasantry, who find Edric's ramblings unsettling and esoteric.

But behind the surface of Edric's character hides a darkness, one that all who wield magic must strive to control - a hunger and lust for power; a dash of haughtiness and arrogance; the burden of guilt weighing heavily upon his shoulders; and the loathsome, suffocating feeling of inadequacy.

---

Skills
* Versatile and resourceful mage, adept in several schools of magic
* Experienced, seasoned aventurer
* Capable swordsman, able to engage most foes up-close when necessary
* Skilled alchemist and potion-brewer, well-versed in plants and ingredients.

[User]
Arendal Nevarth

---

Normally Arendal was not one to wander anywhere close to Brevyon. There were certain dangers associated with the area, and the closer that one got to the border, the less likely you were to find anyone but humans or those strong enough to handle whatever occasionally trickled out of Brevyon. It was not a welcoming environment, the shadow of death still having purchase over the land. He knew that it was foolish to really fear any of it. The dead would stay dead, and the living he was more than capable of handling. Above all, there wasn't much of a reason for him to be near Brevyon.

Except for this time. A small favor for a dwarven barkeep that he was fond of, and did odd jobs for whenever he passed through that way. While he had been rather reluctant to go in the first place he agreed. All he had to do was deliver a letter and a small sum of money to one of the dwarf's relatives that was working on opening a shop and needed the investment to get started. He had been paid in advanced, and he hadn't picked up any jobs while in the town, so he had decided to start off in another direction and not linger around.

It had been a while since he had stayed anywhere for longer than a week. In recent months all he had done was go from town to town running errands for people, or just travelling. There had been a desire to move. A restlessness had formed inside of him, and it was something that he still couldn't put a reason or name to. Being aware of it yet not understanding the reason was irritating. So he decided that he would go along with the urge. There was little else he could do.

For the most part the weather had held up, and he got a good ways from the village. When the clouds began to appear in the distance he knew that he was in for a storm. There wasn't time to turn around, and he really didn't want to gamble making it back in time. So he began to look for somewhere dry to stay as the clouds slowly crawled closer and closer across the sky.

It didn't take too long for him to spot a ruin in the distance, though he couldn't tell if it would make for decent shelter or not. Still, it was the closest thing around and he didn't have time to be picky if he wanted to avoid the soaking that a storm would give him.

[Assistant]
---

---

Damon Tardif

---

---

It was a slow walk back, bogged down by storm and wind that broke against him with every step. Yet there was a ritual calm, the stillness of a successful Hunt. And the mark of it: a bloody scalp held between Damon's fingers, staining his glove crimson. Should one travel back to that spot, they'd find Caulfield's corpse, maimed by Damon's handiwork, left to nature. A return to the fold.

Even from his vantage point in the woods, Damon could see the distant lights of Warren ahead of him, a welcome boon to the road-weary traveler: promise of safety and rest. But Damon felt no such comfort - rather the anxiousness of uncertainty. With growled muttering, he steeled himself and pushed forward. The people despised him; but he despised them right back. The cowards wouldn't dare muster more than a rumored whisper or wandering eye in his direction. None of them had tasted blood, felt the thrill of a true Hunt. They were like sheep: docile, complacent. And he a lion amongst them.

But this was once his home, its people his people. The community he had grown up in. But he had changed in all-but-name, and that's what they hated him for most.

Emerging from the border of trees into Warren proper, Damon saw a sea of faces both old-and-new. Travelers, merchants, seeking food, beds, other commodities the village offered. And its people more-than-willing to oblige. Damon carved through the modest bustle in a beeline towards the inn, that great fortress. It was no grand mead hall, certainly, but the inn was one of Warren's largest buildings, and, as some in town believed, one of its oldest. Built by Warren's first settlers, it was said: as hardy and strong as they were. The people of Warren prided themselves on that, their sturdy, simple nature.

Stepping onto the porch of the inn with heavy step, the idle chatter and conversation around him seemed to slowly fall to silence. Even those inside could hear the sound of heavy mud-caked boots on old wood, and somehow, someway, they knew who had returned.

With wide motion, Damon swung open the door and stepped foot inside, bringing with him the chill of death from outside; its frigid, fearful wind. The loud and boisterous talkers stopped, some even mid-sentence, and turned to see their fear realized; the moment they laid eyes on his leather-scale armor and scarred helmet.

"You're not welcome here, Hunter! Blood sheds where you step!" A single voice arose from behind the bar, possessed by a fleshy, bosomy woman in a loose apron. Stepping out onto the floor, the woman raised a wooden spoon with the same ardor a knight would draw a sword, and though lacking in stature, she fearlessly craned her neck to stare Damon down.

There was silence first, a palpable tension that left all but the most drunken patrons at the edge of their stools as they wondered how the Hunter would react. After only a few seconds, Damon snorted abruptly, letting out a wry chuckle at the woman's expense. It could be seen in her face, a brief flash of confusion that this wasn't the reaction she was expecting.

"You've known me since I was at my mum's teat, Myrna. Least you could do is use my name." He finally said, moving past the doorway - and her - towards the seating area. "Besides," he stopped, "if I were here on work-related business: you'd know."

Myrna weakly raised her spoon, as if contemplating attacking him with it anyways, but she soon resolved against it, letting her flabby arm fall to her side. "Getting mud all over my floor." Was the last thing she grumbled before heading to the back for a broom.

"Easier to clean than blood." Damon replied, more to himself than anyone else, accompanied by another quick hoarse laugh as he spied out a table for himself. He avoided the mass of stares and glances towards him, from residents who already knew of his reputation, and newcomers wanting to find out.

What he did see that caught his eye, however, was a young woman who seemed to be looking right back at him. It was a different look from the others, as though she had been looking for him. He wasn't sure how much she could see past the eye-holes of his helmet, but they seemed to maintain that gaze for a few seconds longer than typical, perhaps trying to read the other's expression.

Finally, Damon simply nodded once at her, and walked away towards his own table.

[User]
Edric haunted the ruins like a specter, skulking around corners making barely a racket. But his presence, his energy could be felt. The magic that emanated from him. Some theorized that all living creatures were bound by magic in at least some way. The essence, the soul was their tie to the innate magical forces of the universe. The scholars in Brevyon were vocal opponents of such an idea, of course, quick to stamp out any mention of magic. To them it was perverse, unnatural, it's nature feared and misunderstood. Yet for all their ignorance and bigotry, there was at least a nugget of reasoning in their beliefs. Magic was certainly an eldritch force: difficult to control and quite capable of overpowering all but the strongest of sorcerers. It opened up avenues to darkness that could infect the mind and soul, warp the very essence of reality itself, and perhaps even elevate one to godhood.

Yet to those who could touch the Magicka within them, there was a calling, an intrinsic want and desire to commune with it, understand its nature, harness its energy - whether for good or ill.

For some wizards, the Call manifested a different way, with an obsessive thirst for enchanted weapons and relics. Indeed, Edric devoted many years to such a pursuit, plundering countless caves and ruins in search of even the smallest trinkets blessed with arcane energy. Such could be seen on his person, as each step was accompanied by the soft clinking of necklaces, brooches, and rings that adorned his clothes, often inscribed with strange engravings and messages written in languages outside the Common Tongue.

The sky had darkened over the hour-or-two he had been exploring, with smell of storm's approach on the horizon. Such didn't bother him, he'd weathered rain and hail before. But what caught his attention was the presence of another wandering into his discovery. He could sense the crackle on the air, the metallic sweetness of magic. The Wolf had sensed it first, uttering a low growl in its throat as a warning to its partner.

Edric nodded once, scratching the wolf's head in thanks, smoky wisps of fur coalescing around his discolored fingertips. Stepping out to see the stranger proper, Edric was, for a moment, taken aback. An Elf: or at least one who looked like an elf. A head taller than he and thin as a rail, with fair complexion and hair like melted gold.

"You look out of place, friend." Edric said aloud, in a tone that was, perhaps meant to be joking. "Brevyon's not particular for either of us-- certainly less-so for one of the Fair Folk."


[System]
ABSTRACT: A mysterious teen who crashed on the Island.

APPEARANCE:

DETAIL:

History: Two years ago, Blank crashed on the Island riding a strangely shaped hang glider, carrying only his bag of supplies and his sword. He was taken in by one of the families after admitting he had no memories, but since then only a vague sense of some purpose has returned to him.

Personality: Blank is quiet and thoughtful, but kind hearted. He might be a warrior, since he has some skill with the sword, but he knows as little as a newborn, relying on instinct to interact with people. He tries to avoid contact with people he doesn't know, is almost adorably shy, and is always happy to let someone else take the lead.

Equipment:
Sword
Bag containing dried food and water.
Strange hang glider.

[User]
Rahna Altema

---

Rahna barked in laughter at Eli's response to Nikki as she flew off the edge. "No need to thank me~ I'll always be around to help you out, you know that!" She responded, patting his back in a familiar manner. Eli's words of concern were a little lost on Rahna. It was pretty amusing to her for him to be telling her to be safe. The person who should be saying that line was her, but she decided to let it slide. She was happy that he was worried about her.

"Cold feet? Me? Ha!" She snorted as she picked up her belongings and her glider. "See you down there kiddo~!" She smirked playfully at him before jumping off the edge, following everyone else. As her glider unfolded, the rush of air pushed upward on the wings, slowing her descent by a significant amount. She leaned it forward, allowing the glider to dive downward. At this point, she donned her goggles to stop the rushing air from tearing her eyes out.

Getting a clearer view, she saw some of the other gliders having trouble staying in flight. Her inner doctor stirred as she saw the Gaius plane crash into the trees not too far off. Should she go help them? Of course she should. But... She caught a glimpse of Blin having troubles with his glider too, his screams inaudible to her as the wind rushed passed her ears. However, she realized that Nikki and Sera had gone to try help him, so he should be fine..

She turned her gaze back to the general area of the Gaius plane crash site and decided to turn her glider in that direction. 'I hope they're not too hurt..'

---

Getting down there was no easy task, since the pair had plummeted almost straight down, so Rahna had to tilt her glider to make slow circles as she spiraled down to them. When she got close enough to the trees, she realized there was no real open ground to land.. Well it was time to be daring now. She folded the wings of her glider as she approached the trees and pushed her feet onto the glider's main body plate, slamming into a thick tree.

All hopes of surfing down the tree trunk like a badass were dashed as a giant branch got in the way, knocking her clean off the packed glider. Luckily for her there were plenty of branches and leaves to slow her fall, although it still hurt like anything.

THUD.

Her body hit the soft earth below. She lay there for a moment before slowly getting up. She was glad that she didn't land on her back, or else all her belongings would be ruined. However, landing any other way hurt just as much. "Ow ow ow.." She whined as she slowly got to her feet, dusting herself off roughly. She glanced around quickly to look for Gaius and the woman. Speaking of which, she had heard a scream earlier... And then She saw movement among the trees. It was someone. Probably the woman? What was her name again...? Lee?

She quickly jogged over to the person, leaving her glider behind. It was Gaius, and Lee.

"Are you alright?!" She called as she rushed over to Lee. She could see that Lee was injured, hopefully not too seriously, but she was trembling and it didn't look like she could use her legs. Most likely shock. "Please calm down, take some deep breaths.. Don't worry, I'm here to help you." Rahna said in a calm manner. She couldn't let the woman see that she was also a little panicked. If the doctor is panicking, then the patient will too. She thought that she'd take a look at Gaius once she was done helping Lee. The man was tough, he should be fine for the moment.. hopefully.

"Where are you hurt? Can you move your legs?"

---

@tex

[Assistant]
There was too much. Too much of everything. Lee's senses hopped into overdrive more than eagerly. The hum of wildlife in the background was deafening, accompanied by the thunderous pounding of her heart. A nearby thud had resounded so violently to her that the woman flinched and tried to put her hands over her ears. Something or someone stepped on what might've been dry leaves or a twig and the snap hit Lee as loud as if she were in her father's shop, listening to his mighty tools work against hot metal. Suddenly someone was speaking. To Lee, it was like they were speaking in tongues, warbled language pouring out too loudly for her liking with strange syllables that only slightly made sense or sounded familiar. And then she heard 'please calm down', her world flashing back to three years ago.

Please calm down. Get her out of that thing,now! Lee, look at me! Lee! Dammit... Get me another pair of hands here, idiot! Hold her, yeah, like that. Careful.

Suddenly there was a pain in her wrist, a phantom hand grabbing and holding on tightly. "No, stop. Don-Don't touch me!" Lee's words sounded like they came from far away and from someone else, the attempt to come off as threatening warping into a plea as she tried to move away in vain. It seemed like all her strength had vanished. Sharp pain bloomed on the right side of her head and it was mirrored in her lower back, sweat causing black strands of hair to stick to her temples and forehead as her body refused to stop shaking. Lee turned her head away and tried to focus on a patch of something pink far away but it was too bright, nearly neon and she let out a tiny exhale, looking back to the ground. She made an attempt to use her legs, to twist her ankle, something, anything, but it didn't happen. A small wave of hysterical, bitter tears dripped down her cheeks as she refused to even look behind her at anything below her waist. Her brain spurred on another torrent of panic right before she heard a familiar voice. A voice she'd heard three years ago. It was low, it was sweet and it was right by her ear, phantom hands stroking over her hair and her hands even as she pulled one back to her chest in fear. A body that wasn't there holding her somehow.

Hey there, Silvertongue. Whatcha cryin' for, kitty-cat? Don't you be scared now, yeah? Listen to me. Just listen to me, no one else. Nothing else.

[User]
Gaius Stronurr

The Forest Floor

 There'd been very little time to muster a substantial amount of composure. His entire body ached, some parts more than others, and there was a distinct huffing in the distance. Gaius rose his head forward and twisted his neck. A few moments is all it took for him to take joy in the fact that his neck was fine. He wiggled his fingers and toes beneath their jade casings, and coughed up a mouthful of warm liquid. Blood? He spit forward, onto his breast plate, but there was no red in the clear bile. His stomach was just a little startled by the fall. Thank god he thought, pulling his elbows up and propping himself into a sitting position. His head felt lighter than usual. It made sense, he'd just fallen over 35 thousand kilometers, the atmosphere would've been unkind to their approach in all manners of ways. Wait, no, that wasn't it. Where... Where the heck is my helmet!? Gaius tried to push his body forward, but a sharp pain shot through his left shoulder and sent him crashing back into the ground like an uprooted tree. Hair medium-long auburn hair splayed outwards onto the forest floor, and the massive man coughed once again. A fiery ache overtook Gaius' left chest cavity. It became slightly harder to breath the more he moved. He coughed yet again, feeling another warmth splatter against the roof of his mouth. That wasn't bile, he knew that consistency all too well. It was blood.

 Gaius let his disheveled cheek hit the forest floor as his head turned towards a series of cracking branches coming from his right side. His bright blue eyes took in every detail from above, like time was slowing down just for him. It wasn't, of course. That was just a side effect of the adrenaline. Before long, Rahna fell through the forest's overgrowth and landed with a resounding thud in a nearby alcove, close to where one of his Glider's wings had half-cleaved its way into the trunk of a tree. Lee was nearby too, crawling away from the ruined Gaius Plane debris in a fleeting attempt. Gaius' eye widened in horror. He forced himself over onto his chest, propping himself up on both hands and ignoring the pain that crashed through his left side like a maelstrom of tiny knives. His left arm shook relentlessly, but he was able to squeeze a leg under his hulking abdomen, and push himself up onto both feet. Without having to support his body, the pain in his left arm had subsided, for the most part. "Lee!" He rasped, making his way over to where Rahna had already begun to assist his short-term passenger. "Rahna-" Gaius stopped at the edge of the forest clearing and glanced at Lee's desperate attempt to escape Rahna's aid. He flinched as a needle seemed to prod at his lung. A droplet of blood snuck its way out of the corner of his mouth towards his chiseled jawline, but Gaius didn't bother to wipe it away. For a moment, he felt embarrassed without his helmet, but shrugged the feeling aside as quickly as he could. He tried to ask Rahna about Lee, but his breaths were already becoming too painful to sustain. Last time I fly with armor he thought.

[Assistant]
Between the two girls, they managed to help with Blin's steering problem. The tomboy took the left, flying above that wing so she could dip down to push it with her feet when needed. Nikki, with her usual precision maneuvering, put her glider directly under the right wing of her friend, hardly any space at all between the two gliders. Fortunately they didn't need to do much. Aside from the issue with steering, Blin's glider was still in good condition and had no trouble staying airborne now that they could keep it steady.

Gaius and Lee were no longer in sight as the trio soared onward, travelling considerably farther than the knight and the young lady, who'd had to cut their flight short. Nikki didn't even think about landing early. Their goal was the star, and while she'd have more or less followed Gaius were he around, she wasn't the sort to deliberately hang back. Besides, the issue with Blin had driven all thought of the other damaged glider from her mind.

"Cloud-head, pay attention!" she said sharply after some time, seeing his focus was wandering. "You're not going to be able to land the way you usually do. We can't help you that low. It's time to learn a roll-landing. Not as nice as a swoop and drop, but it'll have to do." The young woman quickly instructed Blin in the basic technique, giving as many pointers as she could. "Make sure you roll," she cautioned. "It will help you absorb the impact."

They finally drew close to the ground, and Nikki watched their altitude carefully. When they were only a dozen yards or so up, she knew it was time. They'd already slowed as much as they could, and there was nothing else they could do to help. "This is where we gotta drop back, Blin. Remember: jump, tuck, and roll. You can do it!" With that she dove slighting and cut her speed enough to stall, before recovering and going to land herself. Blin didn't do to badly, she thought, though it wasn't a very elegant landing. When he came to a stop, staring up at the sky, the boy just lay there. Nikki let her glider fold shut and approached, eyes widening. Was he -- asleep? No way, he'd /just/ been awake. "Wake up, sleepyhead," she called, shaking him. "You okay? Still in one piece? That was a pretty good job, considering it was your first time." The young lady grinned down at him.

[User]
Blank surveyed his landing site. It wasn't far from where he saw Nikki's glider go down, alongside two others. As he got close enough to the treetops that he could see through to the ground, he realized something unfortunate. He had never glided this long before, and he'd been picking up speed the whole time. If he started breaking now, he still wouldn't be going slow enough when he touched down for a safe landing. He did start breaking though, as his mind quickly flipped through his options. Leaves and branches whipped at his face, but nothing strong enough to puncture his canvas, and when he was feet off the ground and Nikki, Sera and Blin came into view, he made his choice.

He quickly unhooked his boot from it's stirrup, planting it higher up the central rod and bearing his weight backwards. The first part of the glider to touch down was the foothold, which bent at nearly a ninety degree angle and skipped him back off the ground, tearing up part of the forest floor in the process. The maneuver almost gave him whiplash, but it had slowed him down enough that he could safely jump off to the ground while his glider careened wildly off into a tree. He looked sadly at the ruined mess for a second, then turned to the other three in the clearing with him.

"So," he said conversationally, as if nearly crashing was commonplace. Hanging out with Nikki all the time, it really was after all. "What now?"