[System]
Age: 13

Personality: Somewhat lazy, Steven won't do anything he's not told too. Sometimes immovable, he rarely deviates or extends from a given task, unless something personally takes his interest. He's quite whimsical, relaxed and somewhat unmotivated, largely content to live and let live. However, his family pushed him to be a trainer and some of his friends are also trainers, so he's becoming a trainer if only to make them leave him be. Despite that, he's quite optimistic and figures that a few years away from home would do him some good, along with satisfying his parents.

History: Steven and his family live in a relatively small town, with enough to get by. It wasn't exactly amazing or anything, but there was some nature around so it made ideal space for the day care center. Steven's father was a bird pokemon trainer (you know, one of those guys) while his mother was a pokemon breeder. They both had brief stints being trainers before settling down and raising a family of Steven and his little sister. While his sister was very curious and stuff, Steven really wasn't. It was somewhat worrying for his parents how he'd be content to sit in the sun and stare into the sky for a while.

When he grew up to be close to the age his parents started their trainer career, they started dropping subtle hints about it. They even sent him to trainer school for a little while, trusting him to his aunt living in the city where the trainer school is. Obviously, he eventually realised that they wanted him to have a trainer adventure, and while that wasn't something he was exactly keen on, his friends decided that they also wanted to be trainers, so through a mixture of peer pressure and expectations, Steven started to beign his trainer journey, probably.

Wanted Starter: Spearow

Nickname: Timothy

Species: Spearow

Level: 7

Gender: Male

Ability: Keen eye

Moveset: Peck, leer, scary face.

Personality and history:Timothy was an egg from Steven's father's pokemon, and has a pretty grouchy personality and shows his emotions quite easily. This can make it pretty difficult to get along with, but he's developed a very close relationship with Steven. He's kind of got a big brotherish personality to the people he gets along with, though he's about on equal footing with Steven. Tim actually likes children and stuff younger than him, so he's got a soft side.

Tim grew up with Steven in both of their early years, and they didn't really get along very well. They argued a bit, and their parents often compared them too bickering brothers. Things did change eventually, though. Tim always had a habit of getting into things too big for him to deal with and Steven was constantly bailing him out. Eventually, Tim learned to trust and rely on Steven and Steven just figured that Tim wasn't bothering him that much anymore so it was fine.

There was really no question on which pokemon Steven would take of the many his family had. He'd been with Tim for most of his life and trusted him more than almost anyone. Tim trusts Steven more than any other human or pokemon, and he trusts Steven's judgement enough to stick around. They do call each other out on the other's shortcomings, however, and Steven treats Tim like a sibling, not a pet.

Nickname: Honey Queen

Species: Combee

Level: 5

Gender: Female

Ability: Honey gatherer

Moveset: Sweet scent, gust

Personality and History: Queen is quite young and happy, and also somewhat meek. She perceives more than she lets on, however, but is prone to panicking. Currently, Queen is friends with Steven, but hasn't learned to trust his judgement in battles yet.

Steven met Queen in route 2. She was captured in order to test the pokeball's mechanics and quickly hit it off with Tim. She gets along very well with the group, and in the short time they were around, she has become a dear friend to the two.
- Food for humans
- 2 potions
- 1 paralyz heal
- 1 Antidote
- Running shoes
- Region map
- Pokedex
- Pokenav
- 5 Pokeballs
- 3 oran berries
- None

[User]
Blair Aschenford | Vanessa Von Goshe's Studio

The participants were thinned from forty to barely a dozen so quickly... Shiny Pokemon only? Only those who are well-dressed? Blair managed to stay on two reasons, that he was spectating, and that the man doing the announcements recognized his last name when he introduced himself. His name held a lot of influence. As he was listening to the rules whilst sitting in spectator seats, the rules were all... Incredulous. Absolutely unreasonable, but the one that was the most suspect was the last one... Why did Von Goshe even bother to mentor, if her student was not even allowed to compete against her? To be fair, nothing would stop them once they reached a certain point in fame... It would only mean to be on her bad side but...

"I see you too recognize how pretentious this is beginning to feel...", he said, Empress had a little scowl... She understood, and didn't like what she was hearing too.

"Well... I sure hope Fantasia will be alright... I'm not sure now whether I want her to succeed or not", for her to fail, would mean she were to become well, depressed. It would take quite some time for her to recover unless she had changed or her convictions to be a coordinator were not rooted to becoming Von Goshe's student. Though were she to succeed... Her path would seem soulless and without care...

Rule one was an aesthetic, he had seen many non-shiny Pokemon perform incredibly well, a shiny coat only meant they looked unique, so it was a bonus. Rule two completely defeated the purpose of being a student and learning. If you fail an action, then there is where you learn... If they could do everything perfectly, there was no reason to teach them. The only reasonable rule was the fourth but that was stretching it...

[Assistant]
As soon as Hadaron saw the gym leader's plan he shouted, "Don't worry about the sand, focus on your opponent." Ralts nodded closing its eyes and attempting to feel out where the Sandile was. Though Sandile's dark nature made is impossible to affect with physic powers it made a very visible, 'hole', of sorts. Ralts could sense a void and that was where the Sandile was. As soon as the void began moving towards Ralts it trilled, the hair covering its face lifting up and it opened its eyes staring directly at the Sandile and hurling the magical leafs at it, though the Sandile immediately latched onto Ralts leg causing both of them to suffer the full brunt of each others attacks. As he expected the Sandile once again hurled Ralts against the wall, but this time Ralts was ready as was Hadaron.

 "Ralts, attack now!" Hadaron shouted, as the Ralts sped through the air it was already summoning more leaves behind it. Ralts attacked with half of them and brought the other half behind him cushioning his impact. Hopefully the sudden attack before Ralts had even fully recovered from the attack would catch the Sandile off guard. Though when Ralts impacted against the wall and regained its feet it as clear it was suffering the effect of the battles, it was panting heavily and leaning over slightly, one eye peeking through its hair to look at the Sandile.

[User]
Fantasia Heirloom - Vanessa Von Goshe's Studio

Minazuki

With the man finishing the list, only a few short moments passed before he stood the silent trainers up and walked them into a very large, dance studio; lining each person against the wall with their corresponding Pokémon, across the room the auditioners could see Miss Von Goshe finishing her last session; Fantasia could hardly contain her joy.

"Good Luck," the man whispered, "-Miss Von Goshe will be with you shortly."

Fantasia held Budew tightly in her arms as she listened to the previous class, still auditioning infront of her and Blair. She noted, Vanessa was speaking with one of her assistants; whispering loud enough for Fantasia to pick up.

"-Oh my god, how times have changed; these girls must be blind or completely deranged. –I mean have they not heard?" She snickered with the assistant, "To get a crown or a ribbon you must be attractive and have class."

Vanessa walked over to a woman who was slightly overweight with glasses and possessed multiple shiny Pokémon. She coordinated beautifully but to no avail; Vanessa simply kicked the pleading and crying woman out of the audition.

"-please come back when you lose a few pounds."

The snobby rich kids in Fantasia and Blair's group with perfect figures laughed loudly at the poor girl who was booted from the audition. Fantasia however, felt very uneasy and sad about these confusing conditions Miss Von Goshe was making.

After the shunning and laughter, Vanessa strutted back to the center of the room and dismissed her last set of auditions; then pivot-turned towards Fantasia and Blair's group.

"-You may laugh, but this was all a test." Vanessa walked over to a man whom was slouched over, "-don't do this-" Vanessa snapped her fingers and had two muscular men escort him out of the building, then she moved on to her next target.

A girl whom was wearing what had to be a hundred dollar dress, which was not enough for Miss Von Goshe whom promptly pointed and laughed at the insecure girl's wardrobe, once again getting her removed from the studio.

"-don't do that, and remember that Miss Von Goshe always knows best."

Fantasia could feel a cold sweat and an unnerving butterfly feeling in her stomach as Miss Von Goshe walked closer. Fantasia had a feeling this would be the hardest thing she would ever have to do.

[Assistant]
Blair Aschenford | Vanessa Von Goshe's Studio

Blair didn't laugh. If there was anything his father had taught him, it was that talent was a far greater asset than appearances. Appearances will help in negotiations, but talent is what brings something to those negotiation tables. He looked to Fantasia who also seemed rather distraught by all of this. The few who were left were... Well, some of them Blair did recognize, class mates, or former class mates. None of them seemed to notice he was here, likely because they were too focused on this whole thing. Watching all of this transpire was just like a page out of old history textbooks about tyrants. It made him cringe, because he simply didn't understand why someone who was so great could ignore the finer qualities of the people around them... It made him disgusted, and never more did he want to use his influence to bring her down. Such a thought is still too early though as he's realized... First and foremost he had to see how this would play out.

"This makes me wonder what mother and father think of her...", he muttered to himself. He had only heard good things about her, but the lady in person was far different from what he, or anyone had imagined in fact...

[User]
Fantasia Heirloom - Vanessa Von Goshe's Studio

Minazuki

"Excuse me?" Vanessa smiled condescendingly at Blair, "is there something you'd like to say?"

Fantasia loosened her collar nervously for her friend, remaining silent and watching in horror; afraid he may be kicked out.

"Hmmph?" She awaited a response that never came, "You're lucky that you are a familiar face, you may stay."

Vanessa turned back towards the auditioners, tossing her head back as she took the last word.

"One more outburst and your parents will be hearing from me." She smirked, "-Okay little boy?"

And just like that Vanessa was belittling her crowd again.

[Assistant]
As the Team Nexus grunts emerged from the bushes, the other trainer he was with, had already taken two. Slash had jumped on ones head, to annoy, and distract him, and the Skiddo, he was hiding behind, did a mule kick, to the other ones stomach. Alex emerged from behind the bush, and punched the nose of the one that Slash was annoying.

"Yeah, I'm done. We should probably get going, before more come. I don't want to risk my Pokemon getting hurt bad. Talk about unsubtle.

Alex gestured for the younger boy to follow him, making their way out of the bushes. Alex looked back to check, and noticed the Skiddo was following them. "D-Do you want to come, with me?"

"Ski-Ski!" The Skiddo jumped up and down with excitement, before tapping its head on the Pokeball, in Alex's outstretched hand. Alex then quickly made his way out of the bushes, they wee in luck, as it seemed the rest of the goons had made their way down the opposite way of route two, a helicopter landing before them.

---

Del Rosas' com buzzed. He answered it. It was from the boss.

"Don't worry about recruitment. You have a new mission. A helicopter to Grand City is arriving. More information will be given to you on your ride there. Over."

Without word to the grunts he made way for the helicopter, as they followed behind him. What did the boss want with him in Grand City?

[User]
"Well, we gotta finish 'em first then. I have potions, so it should be fine." Steven said, pushing into the bush to spy again. "Actually, wait a sec."

As Steven watched, the leader led the remainder to his group onto a nearby mysterious helicopter.

"Huh, where are they going?" Steven wondered aloud.

Steven was a little confused. The team had just suddenly left, leaving their men behind, which made no real sense to Steven. He hadn't seen any signs of hesitation at all. Did they think nothing of their men? That couldn't be the case, because Steven's plan had worked. Obviously, they would've cared.

Nevertheless, team Nexus was gone for now. Steven's objective was technically completed. Despite that, Steven felt bummed out for missing out on a possible fight with someone who wasn't a complete chump.

Steven retreated from the bushes and caught up to Alex as Tim also appeared and landed on Steven's head. Queen bumbled to his side, slightly confused as to the result. Steven put a reassuring hand on his new friend, gently patting the combee.

"You did good, Queen."

Queen buzzed contentedly and Tim cooed in approval.

"Anyway," Steven said, turning to Alex. "For some reason, the remaining guys just got on a helicopter, and I have no idea why."

They could see the helicopter now, before it flew off into the distance. Steven stared at it as it went off, still wondering why they left as he talked.

"I mean, they left their guys behind." Steven said, gesturing towards the unconscious grunts. "What's up with that?"


[System]
"All my life I've wondered what it would be like to be a character in one of my stories. I'm starting to regret that little desire."
[ ❇ ] S Y N O P S I S

---
Gender
Male

Age
31

Birthplace
Grey's Falls, IN

Former Life
Novelist

[ ❇ ] C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N

---

Appearance Description
Daniel wears thin, wire frame glasses. To go without them would be dangerous, as he is painfully near-sighted. Daniel's normal clothing consists of a smart button down collared shirt, khaki or slate-gray pants, and usually a thick coat, either tweed or leather. To say that he embraces the look of a nebbish man who tends to spend his hours typing away at a computer would be no lie.

Personality
•Timid
•Quiet
•Perceptive
•Selfless
•Insecure

Biography
Daniel Marlowe is not a household name, but to cult followers in horror novellas and terrifying published magazine tales, he has found his place in the world of the written word. Daniel's entire life has always revolved around the written realm, which lead him to many sacrifices throughout his life: the comfort of steady pay, the free time to pursue relationships with others and the stability of a normal schedule. Daniel moved to Rushford three years ago after selling his parent's house in Indiana. His agent, Franklin Picolla, said that the local publishing company in town, Deadwood Press, would love to have him work part time while he worked on his next project. That led to more hours taking phone calls and proof-reading other works than working on his own.

Daniel has no immediate family, having lost his mother to cancer four years ago. Since then, his only normal contacts were those at the Deadwood Press publisher and Franklin. Daniel has never been so isolated with such wondrous company.
It was during a meeting with Franklin over possibly selling his most well-known story, The Stranger at the Window, as a film treatment that he saw the true horror on what exactly was going on. The diner they met at had a man who was sick suddenly start attacking the staff. In trying to leave, Franklin was overwhelmed by the sick man and bitten. With his agent wounded, people freaking out and emergency services unavailable, Daniel ran.

He's been running ever since.

[ ❇ ] M I S C E L L A N E O U S

---

Gear

•Messenger Bag: Daniel's lucky messenger bag which contains his writing journal, several pens, and other items he needs throughout the day. Right now the contents alongside the journal and pen are bags of jerky and several water bottles, scrounged from gas stations. The bag remains in good condition and has been a source of luck and survival for him. At the very least, he can carry things.
•Cell Phone: Nearly dead, but works better as a flash light than anything else.
•Wristwatch: Great for telling the time in the undead apocalypse.
•Metal Pipe: A broken piece of pipe taken from the backroom of a store. Solid steel which has powerful bludgeoning power, but slow and unwieldy when used by such a weak man like Daniel.

Skills

•Puzzle Master: Daniel can easily work through puzzles and brainteasers, whether dealing with number problems, codes or literary hints. Useful if you're traversing a dangerous mansion or nightmare realm; less useful when you're running from the undead.
•Firearms Expertise (Specialized): Growing up in Grey's Falls, Daniel had his hand in hunting ducks with his father. He'd comfortable with nearly all forms of shotguns and can easily fire one with little difficulty accounting for the recoil. His father also taught him a bit of shooting with a handgun, specifically a Smith & Wesson Model 37, which was the old man's service pistol. Due to this specialized training in firearms, Daniel has no skill with magazine-fed firearms like a semi-automatic pistol (Glock, M1911, Sig) or magazine fed rifle.
•Creative Writing: Daniel is capable of crafting intricate stories, though most have a macabre bent to them.
•Eidetic Memory: Daniel possesses a photographic memory, and can remember things in vivid detail after seeing them for a short time. This includes maps, information, codes and other clues.
•Former Boy Scout: Though years out of practice, Daniel has skills in simple survival; from making a fire, fishing with a line, tying knots and practical first aid.

Other
Daniel gets embarrassed if people recognize him from his work. He's only done a handful of conventions and recognizes he has very few fans. .

[User]
Group 2

---

Location: Rushford, Ohio -- O'Neal Family Tavern

Date: May 15th, 2019

---

"It's not going to get better."

It wasn't the best thing to say in the middle of a crisis, but it came flying out of her mouth.

As a special agent with the FBI for the last half-decade, Jennifer Schwarzenberg had seen a lot of things. Dealers, terrorists, the occasional 'most wanted' criminal. She was pretty used to the reality of how things were rather than some naïve fantasy. The idea of the living dead? Zombies? That was something in a novel or movie. But here she was, in the middle of Ohio, dealing with the infected and the people who were trying to survive. Rushford wasn't Cinncinatii or Colombus, it was a blip in the greater Toledo Area; a place that was so far down the totem pole of government assistance and disease control that it was pretty much up to the local police to try to contain it.

There was no chance in hell local police were going to contain this epidemic. She was pretty sure all important law enforcement had become infected by this point in time, or at least, that was the train of thought until the announcement came about refuge in Camp Whispering Springs.

Jenn knew the camp well enough. Before her parent's split she had spent a few summers there. When she had heard it closed down in the Spring of 2007, she had been a little bummed. It was a nice place. It had good memories.

"Whispering Springs is pretty far down-river. But, it's a better fighting chance than anywhere else right now."

Her eyes moved to the travel map that had been laid out on the countertop of the bar she and the rest of her group had occupied for the last few hours.

The hike from their location to the camp in optimal conditions was around four hours. Obviously, there was no such thing as optimal conditions in their situation, or in anybody's situation anymore. They had to account for infected crowds, blocked off roads, and so many other factors. Jenn wasn't a survivalist; even with her FBI training and history camping she was just pointing at a direction and hoping for the best. But considering the group she had found herself with—a unemployed teacher, a teenager, and a writer of some-sort. Who else could have led in her situation?

"We don't have a lot of supplies and this place has almost been picked clean. If you can find a drink, I don't think there's a better time for it." She shook off the thought. "But, maybe we missed something."

Jenn pulled out her handgun, checking it as she took a heavy breath.

"What do you three think? I don't like the idea of sitting in this bar for too long."

[Assistant]
---

Location: Rushford, Ohio -- O'Neal Family Tavern

Date: May 15th, 2019

---

Percy Moore had sat himself at the bar, phone with a charge of less than 20% in one hand and his head in the other, eyes fixed at the screen. As if that'd make a message come back faster, though. He's been staring at the long, long, long line of texts he'd sent to his ex-wife, easily summarized with three little words: Please call me. But no answer, not since the last time he'd tapped out a very long, strongly-worded paragraph. Maybe her phone was just dead. Maybe she was more focused on protecting Ana and herself than answering frantic texts - which, if he had Ana right now, and Laura was the one panicking and bombarding him.. Yeah, it makes sense. It makes sense that she'd be more focused on surviving right now. It doesn't stop his brain from coming up with horror scenarios, though. Like, what if his texts were what ended up getting them killed? The undead seemed to be attracted to the noise.

"It's not going to get better."

Well isn't she just a pocketful of sunshine? Percy grimaced slightly before turning his head to look at her. Yeah, she's done plenty of good by now but jeez, she's not one for optimism. Not that he is either necessarily, but.. Shit, Jennifer, little white lies never hurt anyone.

"Whispering Springs is pretty far down-river," she continues, "But, it's a better fighting chance than anywhere else right now."

After checking that his phone is on vibrate and not blare-so-loudly-it-attracts-zombies-from-every-which-way levels of volume, he turns off the screen and lets out a huff of breath. Whispering Springs, from everything he knew about it, seemed nice. He could vaguely recall asking his parents if he could go - his mother would always say yes, and his father would always say no. "It's too far," he'd insist, "We wouldn't be able to come get you quick enough if something bad happened." And then his mom and dad would lightly fuss back and forth over it before finally coming to the conclusion to do something fun over the summer. They never really did, though - which, at the time, Percy was furious over it, but now that he has his own small child he's worried about? He gets it.

"We don't have a lot of supplies and this place has almost been picked clean," Jennifer starts up again, breaking Percy's little train of thought, "If you can find a drink, I don't think there's a better time for it. But, maybe we missed something." She then pulled out her handgun - the same kind he has, which he'd been so very observant to point out after the metaphorical dust settled in here. "You have a Glock," he'd blurted out before proceeding to duck behind the counter and kick himself mentally. Like, no duh, she has a Glock. At least he didn't say something way more stupid, like, "Oh, we're twinsies!"

"What do you three think? I don't like the idea of sitting in this bar for too long."

Percy turned his whole body around as he went to reply, but a harsh, I-need-to-be-oiled-type of creak came from the barstool under him. He winced, muttering a "Well fuck me," under his breath. After half-standing up to look through the window and make sure he didn't just summon a swarm of zombies to come at them - as far as he saw, he didn't - he then plowed through to what he was going to say anyway, "We should probably definitely get a move on, yeah. Whispering Springs seems like the smartest thing to do, probably." And as long as Laura and her fiance had any sense in their heads, they'd be going there too.

[User]
Location: Rushford, Ohio -- O'Neal Family Tavern

Date: May 15th, 2019

---

Daniel Marlowe was tired. He'd spent the majority of the time since the first time he saw one of these...creatures running as fast as he could from them. He'd slept maybe three or four hours in days, and the toll was obvious in his face. He'd scavenged food and water, but he knew he couldn't keep up the marathon forever: that's when he found other survivors. A woman; specifically an agent of the FBI, a young man and a teacher. And here he was; probably the most useless of the group. For chrissakes, he didn't even have a gun.

He listened intently as the agent began laying out the plans: this bar had no supplies to use and their best chance was heading down river to some summer camp. "Summer camp sounds like a good place to hold up, actually," Daniel started as they were busy with their own business. "They're usually far out from civilization, meaning we won't deal with so many of those freaks like we have here in Rushford. Plus, camps tend to stock up for the summer with nonperishable foods, medical supplies and other tools. The only thing I feel we'll be lacking there would be weaponry--" he stated, looking at both the agent and the teacher. "But honestly, guns are probably a bad idea unless there's no other situation. Regardless of their mental acuity; we've seen how they react to sound--" he nodded at the cacophony of the speakers outside. "The less firing we do, the better. I'd assume, anyway."

He moved through the bar looking for anything of use; wooden sticks, glass bottles, he was careful to examine everything he could possibly find. "A bottle of high proof liquor would be better put to use for medicine or for a firebomb," he muttered, digging through shelves. "We can sanitize cuts and scrapes the same way we'd use medical alcohol, or we could use the flammability to ignite something. Hell, even those freaks outside burn."

He stopped for a moment, realizing he'd been talking for a minute now. "Sorry, I don't mean to act like a know-it-all. I guess i'm just trying to recall my days in the scouts back in the 90s."


[System]
Gender: Female

Appearance: Akyasha is much like the rest of her kin. Pale, pleasing to the eyes…. The most notable features are her bright red hair and the religious garb she wears at almost all times.

Abilities: As a Vampire, of course Akyasha has access to Blood Magic and as a devout servant of Ichor, she also has access to Divine Magic that only Clerics of Ichor would have. The Divine Magics of Ichor are essentially Blood Magic without any weakness a Vampire might have as well as the ability to summon the otherworldly servants of Ichor.

That said, she utilizes her Blood Magic in a special way. When she strikes an enemy with her Blood Magic, she attempts to put a "seed" on or in them. This "seed" starts to drain blood from it's target and will over time sprout as a Blood Magic mockery of a lily, something that Akyasha affectionately calls a "Blood Lily". After she collects the lily, she can utilize it in a couple of ways, but her favorite is in her summoning magic. The amount and quality of blood that she collected influences the creatures she would summon from using the Blood Lily.

Personality: Some describe her as an eccentric. She's a devout servant and follower of Ichor. She follows the tenets as close as she can except for one thing. While she agrees that normally, humans cannot love them, she thinks that they can be made to love them. Though, this typically means that she likes to have plenty of human thralls. Specifically, Human Women that she can dress in her religious outfits and follow the Path of Ichor.

Outside that, one could say that she is every so slightly obsessed with the Cult of Ichor and making it as perfect as she can as well as the betterment of her kin. She sees humans in three ways. The humans worth attempted to turn to the Cult of Ichor and those that are cattle meant for feeding. This does not mean the cattle are to be treated crudely as that would be against the tenets. Preferably, they are to be given their own rooms and things to do as well as well fed. That way, their blood tastes the best it could be.

The third and final way she looks at humans…. Are those worthy of ignoring. As the tenets state not to act with cruelty and treat humans with care, Akyasha finds the best way to care is to ignore those that one does not need to interact with as interaction would bring "undue attention to the undead."

Bio: Once upon a time, Akyasha was a blonde human girl with another name, turned by a Cleric of Ichor. Over the years, she dedicated her unlife to the following of Ichor and rose through the ranks. Unfortunately, during the final years she saw many of her fellow clerics felled by Paladins until finally, she was one of the last few Clerics. Of course, one of the last few didn't matter as she was impaled with a holy weapon and put into an eternal slumber. Only to eventually wake back up in an unforgiving world….

Anything else:

[User]
"Perhaps there is even a way to scale the wall in some shape or form." Akyasha mentioned, looking along the street and houses. "The wall may have crumbled in places in our many years of absence with places we might be able to climb over. That said, you two, please feel free to get checking on ahead. I'm going to find a place where I can hide behind a building and get a peak at what pursues us. In the worst case that we can't find a way forward, perhaps if it's something big enough we can trick it into opening the path for us... As much as it would dismay me to destroy things in the cathedral district... I would find it sad but necessary in the worst case... Damage to the Cathedral itself however is unforgiveable." The Vampire Cleric said her thoughts on that matter.

Giselle was on the move already so Akyasha smiled at Aleksiya as she found a nearby building she could peak out towards the approaching monster from. "I'm going to watch from there." The woman said before making her way over. She should be able to get a peak out without grabbing it's attention if she was careful enough. If there was anything to find, she was sure her sisters would find them.

[Assistant]
Location: Alavaris
Ancient Garden
@VitaVitaAR@Click This

---

Giselle and Aleksiya easily found their way down a small street near the wall. An alleyway wedged between it and a row of buildings. Even if they couldn't find a way through the closed gate, there was little room for whatever was following them to pursue them down this road. As luck would have it, however, they would find a side door that led into the walls interior. Slipping inside would show what was once likely a guard station.

The room wasn't too big. Just enough room for a desk, a bookshelf, and a set of stairs on the opposite end of the room that led up and out of the room that seemed to lead up onto the wall. Weapons and armor laid old, rusted, forgotten inside their racks or armor stands. There was just one small, little problem.

Between them and the stairs, was one of the undead that seemed to inhabit this place.

It was hunched over, its body stiff and rigid as it struggled to move or stand. Decissicated flesh clung to its bones, giving it an old, leathery appearance. Its head twitched in an unsettling manner as it slowly turned to face the two that had entered the room. The moment that it laid eyes on the two vampires it responded with a high pitched, disorienting screech, loud enough to temporarily deafen the two vampires as it would slowly walk towards them.

Akyasha would dash into a nearby building. Not perhaps, the smartest move all things considered. It offered shelter from whatever was hunting them, but she'd be lucky if the building was uninhabited entirely. At least, if nothing else an immediate scan of the surroundings seemed to reveal nothing aside from the fact that this seemed to have once been some sort of residential building.

Outside, if she waited only a few moments she'd see the creature that had been slowly chasing them, or at least part of it.

A skeletal hand wrapped itself around the front of the building, the tips of its bony fingers reaching in through the window and gripping the edges of the building as it seemed to drag itself along the ground towards the gate, stopping itself at the same house Akyasha had taken shelter in. Its ragged, ghostly breathing filled the streets as the skeletal creature's head swiveled from side to side, seemingly looking for something.

Finding neither living nor the vampires, it shrieked and rose from the ground, using its hand to drag itself back down the street.

She couldn't get a good look at it from here, but she at least could tell it was some sort of massive skeletal creature.
Not that she'd get long to ponder it. The air around her noticeably chilled, a cold hand wrapping around her neck as a ghostly figure attempted to grab her from behind.

Location: Alavaris
Squalid Ruins
Landshark@Asuras@Erode

---

The skittering insects complied with the whims of the one they were enthralled by. Carrying the two women would prove a somewhat trivial task for the two insects. As Illena accepted Luna's hand to be ferried across the bridge, however, Dragan would become increasingly aware he was not alone. Perhaps he should have paid better attention to the corpses that laid by the skeletal creature that laid upon the road.

Its bones shifted, the sound of earth and rock grinding against its body as it dragged itself to wakefulness while Illena and Luna attempted to cross the bridge. Its skeletal head passed right by Dragan as it lifted its long, serpentine body into the air. Scraggly, matted fur hung from its skull while its eyeless sockets and bestial skull stared down the vampire.

It opened its jaws…and howled.

Something was off about this skeletal creature, that much was certain as far as Dragan could tell. Even as weakened as he was, this creature in front of him was difficult to get a grasp on with his necromancy almost as if it wasn't quite dead.

It would then attempt to slam its head right into Dragan.

[User]
To be honest, there were more then a few reasons why Aleksiya didn't want to try breaking the gate down herself. For one, it was a part of this city and a valuable barrier. For the other, she wouldn't be able to stand being unable to do it. She couldn't let anyone see her fail. It simply wasn't an option, and she unfortunately couldn't be sure about her own capabilities given how hungry she was. Thus, the petite vampire really had no choice but to follow Giselle's lead.

Thankfully, it seemed this choice was a fruitful one.

The small door led them into a fittingly unimpressive room, but at least it was shelter away from all those obnoxious skeletons and whatever irritant was pursuing them. She'd pay it back tenfold for forcing them to rush in such an unbecoming fashion.

Unfortunately, this particular bit of shelter was not unoccupied. There was another tenant, and sadly it wasn't even an interesting one. A dried out, desiccated, leathery corpse that didn't even appear to have any blood left inside of it. Was that all they were going to encounter here? Aleksiya was so hungry, too!

She was already preparing to cast a spell when it suddenly screamed, letting out an awful, deafening shriek that left her ears ringing. Putting one hand to her head, the small vampire winced as she took aim. So shortly after she awakened, and she's met with such an obnoxious sound!?

"Shut up!"

A ball of ice formed at the tip of her finger, surrounded by circles of light for a moment before being sent hurtling through the air, aimed squarely at the undead's head.

@Click This

[Assistant]
Dragan Meszaros

Ah. It seemed he'd missed a spot leading up to the bridge. Dragan raised his rapier with a frown, instinctively leaping out of the way of the skeletal beast's head slam. Dragan could chalk that up to his post-torpor weakness, but that would be making excuses. No, he simply hadn't been paying enough attention, it seemed. Something to work on for later.

In the meantime, there was still the immediate matter to deal with. Dragan took up a fencing stance, calling back across the bridge as he did so.

"There is little need to concern yourselves overmuch!" He yelled in his companions' direction before lunging forward, juking one way and then the other before leaping up and plunging his rapier straight into one of the beast's eye sockets. He would have to determine if this thing was truly alive or not before committing more to the fight.

[User]
@Psyker Landshark@Rune_Alchemist

"If the rest of our Goddess's rightful domain is in such a state, that means our blightful foe has fallen destitute alongside our brethren," Ilena replied. But she was not sure whether to feel triumphant over that. To attain victory by outliving the natural lifespan of a human was the way of worms. And yet to become the rulers and rebuilders of a ruined world would be the surest way to stamp out the worshippers of lesser deities and extol the greatest of the Stained Queen.

Complication unnecessary. Luna's second question was easier to answer. A short shake of Ilena's head, followed by a casual disregard for her jest. Dragan was armoured, but the Exsanguinating Skeeters have lifted knights in full plate and drained them dry before. An unfed paladin, no matter the renown, would not be so different.

What would make things different, though, was the revival of that great skeleton, bones rattling against stone as it raised itself skywards, almost tall enough to reach the two flying vampires.

Ilena fixed her gaze on Luna.

"I suppose you could not command it to beg?"

And she dropped, her right arm melting into shadow as outsized claws shunted out from where her fingers once more. They slammed into the skull of the skeletal creature, digging deep as it swung its head down towards Dragan, before the impact caused those self-same claws to rip deep grooves into ancient bone, Ilena sent flying by the impact.

The giant mosquito caught her though, wings flaring with effort to stop her fall, and she landed gingerly beside Dragan.

"Your verdict, Death Knight?" Amidst the buzzing of her thralls, Ilena's flesh began to tremble, muscles and organs changing from beneath the skin. "Will these bones be broken or merely displaced?"

[Assistant]
Giselle de FarryUndead Princess, de Farry

---

Giselle had been right, as she had expected. Alavaris was too old, too lived in, and too storied to not have such little entrances, despite the decrepit state the city and the land was in now. In this case, it was the easiest of alternative entrances they found, a simple guard door. Time had ensured that whatever door or lock that might have gotten in their way was not an issue. Still, it seemed to have done its job enough that the contents of the guard room seemed relatively unscathed for their age. Perhaps, if she was so inclined, she could quickly restore one of those weapons herself and stow away her blood to conserve her energy.

Before she could do that, though, they had to clear the room. There was a single undead beast here. Giselle had been about to smack the degenerated body aside when it stared at her and Aleksiya, and screamed. She winced, placing a hand to her ears even as she lashed out together with the smaller vampire lord to destroy the lesser being for its heinous offense.

"Nasty little thing, aren't you?"

She could barely even hear herself as aimed for center mass, intending on eviscerating its undead heart if Aleksiya's headshot wouldn't do the trick. Immediately after, she began to move towards the weapon racks, intending to inspect them for anything that she could restore and use on the spot once the trouble in the room was dealt with.

[User]
Akyasha held her breath as the giant creeped around and soon enough groaned and disappeared back the way it came. She relaxed her shoulders a bit. She was positive that, at the moment, she could not fight that if it came to it. Not by herself at least. Then, she felt a cold grasp around her neck ever so slowly. A ghost? How crude. One would not find this Cleric of Ichor easy prey. She raised her hand and encased it with her blood magic to enable her manipulating this ghost. She moved her hand up and grabbed the hand surrounding her neck by the wrist and quickly pried it away. She twisted the ghostly wrist in such a way that it would have broke a human's wrist under the same circumstance.

"How vexing to deal with a ghost at the moment." She'd continue supplying some of her available power to her hands to lessen the burden she would take in making a full blood weapon. She pull the ghost out of the wall and then gave it a good smack to get rid of it. These things were rather annoying at times.

Well, at the least this problem was solved. So took a look outside the building, carefully peaking her head out to make sure the there were no giant skeletal monsters out here ready to devour her. It looked clear at least so she quietly made her way to where she had noticed her compatriots went.


[System]
Vena's Characters
Age: 18

Gender: Male

Race: Mura

Appearance: Ethan is 5'10" tall (177.8cm) and weighs around 160 lbs (75kg).

Element Affinity: Air

Magic: Speed magic - Ethan can use his air magic to accelerate himself, also enabling his strikes to come faster.

Gear: A machina sword he… Borrowed from a soldier passing through his town. The sword is moderately sharp, and specifically designed to handle magic being channeled through its blade. Along his trip he happened across a discarded glove as well, a strong, tensile wire wrapped inside a small compartment on the back of it. By pressing a small button on the palm of the glove, Ethan can release the wire and use it to grapple, and coupled with his Air magic he can propel himself to high places, granting him excellent maneuverability.

Brief history: If you want to find the epitome of a slacker, look no further than Ethan Campbell. All throughout his life he has been more interested in daydreaming and wandering about than dedicating himself to anything, much to the chagrin of his family. From an early age on he was spotted frequently just walking around his home town, and sometimes even well beyond the borders of it. Though his wandering made him a headache for his parents and the guards alike, one could not argue the boy had developed an intimate knowledge of the area around him. For this reason, Ethan was to take up becoming a guard as soon as he was of age; on his sixteenth birthday he was to begin his training, yet things would become complicated when members of the Church would arrive in his town.

From the age of five Ethan showed an aptitude for magic, in particular with regards to air magic. Everyone in the town knew the boy to be a Magi, and having only one other among them they were excited to discover him. He never received training for his magic, as the other Magi focused on Earth, but he and the old man were the pride and joy of the otherwise unremarkable town. That blessing would turn into a curse when, years later, the Church would come by on rumors that the town was harboring a Magi in their midst. Everyone knew precisely who they were asking for, but to the residents' surprise only one Magi was being requested. Not wishing to see a young boy be dragged off, the old man handed himself over to the authorities, being dragged off in chains back to a prison.

Ethan didn't know another Magi, and while he couldn't be trained by the old man he had grown to be fond of him, looking up to him almost like a grandfather. When the man was taken away he was devastated, locking himself away for days on end and forgoing his usual wander sprees. Sulking wasn't really his style though, and the longer he sat the more concerned he became for the old man's well-being. Eventually he grew tired of sitting by idly, and resolved to try and do something for a change. Knowing full well he couldn't do much on his own however he left his home, out to search for other Magi to potentially help him in his journey.

---

[User]
There was still a bit of food left over in his pack, which while meant for reserves Ethan figured they could eat it, restock at the next town perhaps. It would be difficult to split what was left four ways but they'd make it work; some food in their belly was better than nothing, especially if they would be traveling again. Smiling at Amuné once she had finally woken up he gave her a small wave, watching Wyth stretch out as well with a small chuckle. "Morning you two! Hope you slept okay, sorry the ground was kind of rough," Ethan said, again raising his arms above his head to pop a kink in his back. Hearing an unusual sound off to the side he glanced over curiously to Cecil, eyebrows raising in surprise at watching him remove part of his leg casually and begin oiling it. So he really was a Machina, or at least part machine... Huh.

"I guess that's one less mouth to feed though, which is handy..." he mumbled, smiling as he leaned over and grabbed up his bag. There wasn't terribly much inside of there, just a few strips of dried beef and a small pouch of grains, but it was better than going hungry. Taking out the beef he moved over to where Amuné and Wyth were stood, kneeling down and handing them each two strips, saving one for himself. "After we eat we'll get moving again, so go ahead and chow down you two!" Popping his own slice into his mouth, Ethan then went over to Cecil and watched him curiously for a moment, earnestly intrigued that the other boy was actually Machina. It wasn't really his place to ask, but he had so many questions for Cecil right about now; Ethan had very limited knowledge of machines anyways, not exactly having an abundance anywhere this far out west. Though technology had been booming it hadn't quite gotten out here yet, and only small instruments and the like were even seen around.

"That's so cool... It must be hard though, keeping that clean..." Did dirt get stuck in it a lot? Could Cecil rust? What about the weather, did any of that bother him at all? Again there were at least a dozen questions, yet he'd keep them to himself as he didn't want to come across as nosy and rude. Back on the topic of their getting moving again he figured it was a decent idea to plot their course, have some idea of where they were heading before they started off again. Waving over Amuné and Wyth he removed his map from his pouch, laying it out on the ground before himself and using some small rocks to hold it in place.

"So this is the village we were just in, I think. Or maybe it was the one I was in a few days ago..." Ethan began, pointing to a small highlight on the near-Western edge of the map, "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm heading east towards the cities. And east is... Well..." Looking up from the sheet of paper he smiled sheepishly, looking every which way before letting out a small chuckle, turning his focus back to the map. "Right... And if we were here yesterday..." he added, pointing to the town before moving it to an adjacent one, "Or were we here...? I guess it could be the one north of there too..."

[Assistant]
Campsite

The child got to her feet and stretched, before picking up Ethan's coat and shaking it out. "Thank you," she told him softly, placing it by his bag. She gaped at Cecil as he just pulled off his leg and started cleaning it. How...was he really Machina? "But Machina don't look like us!" she blurted, before clapping her hand over her mouth in shame. Flushing red, she was saved further embarrassment by Ethan, who offered her a strip of meat. Amuné shook her head. "We should eat the fresh food first," she informed him, pointing towards the ashes and embers of the fire. She made her way over to the fire and dug herself up another piece of the rabbit from where she'd placed it the night before. The meat had been kept warm by the fire's coals, and Amuné held one hand out to Wyth so he could lick the juice from her fingers with his sandpaper tongue. On more sensitive skin it would hurt, but her palms were calloused from helping her mother grind herbs and from the harvests, when everyone in the village lended a hand.

The Ydran man beckoned her over as he spread out his map, and she joined him. She looked at the markings, and where he indicated, a frown creasing his forehead. Surely he knew how to read it? Why would Ethan have a map if he couldn't? She considered the map, sounding out the names of the towns on it under her breath. A few of the cities she recognized, and her father had shown them to her on a map like this. Judging by the placement and the distance.... The girl stretched out a still-damp finger and pointed, not actually touching it to the map so as not to get the paper dirty. "Here," she mumbled to herself, "and then south...I'm not fast, but how far?" Her finger moved south, pausing, then moving to a town that was not any of the ones Ethan had pointed at. "Here," she said, though she didn't sound entirely certain. "East is that way." She pointed off toward the origin of the light that filtered down through the trees. Privately she was surprised the man had managed to get as far as he had, considering how poor his map skills were.

[User]
Cecil had never stayed outside in one place before throughout the night, this was the first time he had remained immobile for a long period of time in what felt like plain sight. The moisture of the morning was definitely getting into his gears and the need to clean them was number one priority right now. Looking to Ethan when he spoke he only felt confused by his exclamation, only curious as to what he was talking about; of course it was morning time, but he was confused about the rest of his greeting. The ground was hard but it wasn't as if he found it bothersome, nor had he 'slept'. Going back to his cleaning he smiled slightly when he could feel the relief in his joints already but gasped when the girl suddenly shouted, his eyes quickly looking to her before he turned away quickly with his shoulders raised.

He didn't like being constantly reminded he was a Machina, especially after yesterday. It seemed like such a negative thing to be and by how she reacted it definitely raised some questions to whether it was a good thing. Frowning as he placed his kneecap back on he moved onto his other leg, letting them talk amongst themselves and talk about eating and all that while he made himself busy. This was the longest he had ever been with people and observing them proved to give him some valuable information to what they were like when the sun rose. First they got off the ground and proceeded to cook flesh to make food. That all sounded pretty simple enough and provided some valuable information, but he did wonder if it was specific creatures they used or just got any creature and started to cook them. Did they only use certain parts of the creature to make food? So many questions and probably all too rude to answer, especially if they were already a little freaked out by him.

Sighing lightly as his gears were fair cleaned he gasped lightly when Ethan decided to talk to him, looking to him quickly before away again, raising his shoulders. "Uhh, a little. I ran out of oil a while ago, so it's been hard…" he spoke, sounding more embarrassed by it, "I don't know where to get some, but I can manage…" He didn't know why he felt so embarrassed about his own body, but it was probably because of what happened yesterday. Slowly placing his knee back on he adjusted his leg, looking as good as new again. It wasn't something he should be ashamed of and yet he still felt that way. Keeping quiet while they tried to figure out where they were going he slowly looked over, seeing the pair mull over a map, discussing their possible route. He didn't really know where they were going but he was curious to see how they were using it, only seeing one being used before and he didn't even get to see what was on it. Slowly getting up he moved quietly behind them, looking over their shoulders and down to the map on the ground.

What a curious contraption a map was, it must've depicted this whole region. Staring at it he recognised where he just was, remembering the shape of the road as he travelled there. Getting oddly excited over his ability to read the map he made sure to remember it, smiling happily. "Is this the entire world? That's amazing!" he spoke as he moved around to the side of the map, "I'm going that way! I'm going to…I don't know. I feel I need to go that way, though. Can this take me there?"

[Assistant]
It didn't seem like a big deal that Cecil was Machina, at least not to Ethan. There were all sorts of people in this world, Cecil just happened to be one of those; what or whoever the other boy might be didn't make him bad, and he wasn't about to raise a fuss simply because it was something unusual or different. Anyways Ethan was a bit more focused on other matters currently, in particular getting some food in their stomachs and figuring out their route. Having completely forgotten that Amuné and Wyth had caught a rabbit earlier he offered out some strips of dried meat, smiling bashfully when she pointed out they had a fresh meal. Seeing as those two were particularly hungry, and Cecil didn't eat, he opted to let them enjoy the fresh meat and popped a strip into his mouth instead. Again he was distracted from the map, this time when he noticed Cecil oiling his leg. It must be a troublesome thing to do, oiling yourself like that; it wasn't as though you could realistically always have oil handy, as Cecil was quick to bring up. "Well next town we can see if they've got any, my treat," Ethan offered, smiling as he laid out the map, "Since I won't be buying you food it's the least I can do." That was of course provided he had any money left by then, he may end up having to work some more odd jobs.

Now then, maybe he could focus on trying to figure out where they were. Upon opening the map Ethan knew rather quickly this was going to be futile, he wasn't even sure of their current location. Aside from Kinsgrove and the surrounding county he couldn't name much of anything on the map, even though it was already marked itself; not knowing the name of the settlement they'd just been in either made things even more difficult. Amuné of all people was the one to point out what had him baffled, making the Muran boy flush slightly in embarrassment. That's right, east was the same as right wasn't it? He should have remembered that, he'd been taught that years ago and he supposed it just never stuck. His destination, ideally, would be one of the larger towns or cities, somewhere he might be able to gather information on the man he was looking for. He wasn't sure where the others would be heading, but he was more than happy to travel with them if they wanted to.

"Yeah it can, though I guess it helps if you know how to read it," Ethan admitted with a laugh, smiling as he rolled the map up again and tucked it away. Spotting his coat beside his back he looked at Amuné for a moment, offering it back over hopefully. "Here, I've got my shirt, I don't need this too right now. Why don't you wear it until we can get you some fresh clothes?" It ought to be easier to find some clothing for a young girl than it would be oil. From what he had seen on the map the next town wasn't all that far off, and maybe they could reach it within the day if they made good time. Straightening out his clothing he went over and snuffed out the remains of the fire after making sure Amuné and Wyth both got the rest of the rabbit, burying the cinders before wiping his hands down on the damp grass.

"So I was thinking it might be best to avoid the major roads for now, especially if those guys in suits come looking for you again Cecil. But if we go too far away then we might lose track of where we are, so here's what I'm planning," Ethan began, looking at the others as he pointed to himself, "I'll keep near the road just so we know where we're going, and you three can keep to the trees so no one sees you. If someone spots me I can get away, so it works out for the best that way." Magic, at least in his case, was ideal for escaping. So long as he could manage to get off the spell he could dart away with the wind, and with luck throw off whoever he ran into, thus keeping the others safe. If it was just more suits then they shouldn't be all that difficult to handle, as it hadn't seemed like they were capable of casting magic. "Any complaints? If not then we can get moving now, provided you're all ready."


[System]
* Age: 238
* Gender: Female
* Race: Human (Vampire)
* Appearance:

Average knight for scale:

For obvious reasons, she doesn't exactly fight like this:

It's not even that much taller:

Standing over six feet tall, it definitely doesn't match her height out of armour...
With sword:
* Personality: The opinion of those who only have to interact with the Iron Roses in their capacity as knights is that Tyaethe is a serious, no-nonsense veteran. This is completely true provided that she's acting in her capacity as a knight of the church, off rescuing people or doing simple military work--she's quite serious, if prone to taking the aggressive and faster option. When there's a real fight on hand or something strong to oppose, she gets more hot-headed... and in general is quite prone to an "ATTACK ATTACK ATTACK" mentality, prone to forgetting that most people do not share her ability to disregard physical injury.
Off the battlefield, outside of religious matters she's quite lazy. There's no equipment for her to upkeep, no physical exercise to keep in shape, no family matters to attend to, and even the captain only needs so much assistance in a day. It leaves her plenty of time for either emulating a cat and finding somewhere inconvenient but comfortable to nap, or playing tricks and teasing other members of the Iron Roses. Or helping them as the case may be. At times, the vampire can actually seem her age, bored of the repetitiveness of time and duty--but still obliged to be here.
Unless she respects you, making fun of her height or age is quite a way to set her off.
* Brief Backstory: Coming from a minor noble family, Tyaethe was always expected to carry on her family's duty as knights of the crown. Yet due to favours owed by a highly influential and religious duke to her father, the standard of education that the girl received was much higher than her family would have expected--until the duke's own outspoken nature and the cause of the original favour came back. Having made enemies with a vampire of some age, and defied death once before, they came back for vengeance during a feast. Perhaps the vampire recognised Tyaethe as the child of one of its enemies and wanted to make a more ironic point, or maybe they just didn't want to kill a child in training--but of the attack, she was the only survivor, and quite confused at that.
With her teacher dead, but his influence still felt, the girl went to the church and pledged herself to training as a paladin and to become a knight in Reon's service--with no idea of what she had been afflicted with. When this became apparent, it was already too late to back out... despite Reon's virulent hatred for vampires in particular, to reject an orphaned child unwittingly burdened with undeath would have been far too cruel, and a faithful servant is hardly the threat most become. So, even though the church would normally have resisted accepting the undead into their ranks, Tyaethe completed her training as best as possible despite the lack of ageing and became a paladin.
Hot-headed and somewhat hard to work with, Tyaethe spent most of her time as a crusading knight-errant and working on her magical abilities--not wanting to go to yet another social function made doubly awkward by her apparent age, or snap at another companion for bringing attention to the fact. Her tendency for long trips away from most paladins helped with forgetting what she was, and Tyaethe developed a reasonably good reputation for her abilities.
Which is about when Elionne prevented the assassination of Falthir and impressed the older paladin so much that she was the first to swear her service--before the Iron Roses had even been founded--and was something of a teacher. This, combined with her apparent age, is the source of the "First and Youngest" title... which she still hates hearing. Unfortunately, it's open knowledge, along with her condition, leaving Tyaethe with a very strange reputation.
When Elionne disappeared, the vampire didn't know more than anyone else, though she certainly took the news hard. In the end, Tyaethe stuck with the knights, though she's become touchier about her apparent age over time, and has a tendency to act as a stumbling block to changing tradition. Occasionally, nobles looking to advance their control over the knights have been dismayed to learn that the circumstances of Tyaethe's original vow to join the knights more or less require Elionne to be the one to make her leave or be proved dead. Of course, that's outweighed by the people who are glad she hasn't gone anywhere; finding someone willing and able to fight dragons when they intermittently show up, let alone one so gleeful about it, would be... difficult if the paladin were to retire or go travelling.
* Equipment: The only piece of "real" equipment that Tyaethe possesses is her sword--a blessed blade enchanted to have no weight to the wielder, so that even someone in her situation can wield it without any difficulty, and as resilient to damage as it could be made. Everything else, aside from her scarfs, is nothing more than a magical construct created as needed.
Though it isn't really equipment, she also has two hundred years of accumulated money left over for whatever might need the investment--not a bad amount.
* Skills: As one would expect of the most experienced knight in the order, Tyaethe's greatest asset is her swordsmanship, despite the link between vampirism and magical power. She takes pride in achieving victory through nothing more than the mundane application of skill, now honed over entire lifetimes, and insists that using some magical enhancement hardly detracts from the achievement; there are enough people around physically monstrous enough to achieve the same effects regardless. Some people have disagreed with this. Whatever their opinion on magically assisted swordsmanship, her skill is sufficient that she only gets excited when prodigies join the knights and provide some decent competition until they leave, or age catches up.
Of course, as a vampire, there is no avoiding the massive raw magical power requirement to survive the process, one Tyaethe seems to have naturally exceeded by a considerable margin despite her development. Although dependent on regularly feeding to be able to fuel this level, the point that the paladin considers to be satiated and not a danger--and therefore maintaining something approaching her natural capacity--is akin to standing next to a bonfire of mana.
All of this energy is regularly redirected into one of the least efficient spells possible, generating an illusion and enforcing its reality through stubbornness and sheer magical energy. In practical terms, it amounts to a minor capacity for shapeshifting and conjuration, no matter the mechanism behind it. This, of course, is how the paladin maintains an adult appearance as needed, or actually armours herself as a knight--ageing up or conjuring armour as appropriate. Due to its nature as little more than raw magic, it protects even better against magical attacks than physical, although it also provides the (rather unnecessary) protection of normal armour.
With the illusions requiring constant investment, there is a limit to how long they can be maintained, with the armoured one being particularly extreme and reserved only for combat itself. Merely looking how she would if she had grown normally can be kept up with little difficulty, as long as she's awake.
Then, of course, there are the abilities that stem directly from being a vampire. Using mana for physical enhancement is the most obvious, and where even the weakest vampires get a dreaded reputation: unless starving, even the least combat-trained vampire can boost themselves to scary levels. The other one is that inflicting damage that can't just be healed away is a matter of some difficulty without holy blessing or a talent for decapitation. It also has a few minor talents that are occasionally handy--obviously, seeing in the dark is a big one, but her other senses are quite sharp, although not to extreme levels. Except for two exceptions: heartbeats and the smell of blood. Quite hard to sneak up on, this one.
Having pretty terrible unaided eyesight isn't a skill, but it's noteworthy.
* Other: Yes, drinking blood is required--blood becomes mana, mana sustains life. Yes, the sun is dangerous. It isn't quite lethal, though: Reon hates vampires but she's aware it's not a choice.

[User]
"Yes, it is most impressive that the Iron Roses managed to defeat such a major threat on their first outing, despite their Lady Fanilly Danbalion's lack of experience," the Velbrance heir said, having fully closed the gap to within speaking distance of the captain, the young noble adroitly moving through the crowd with polished ease. His attire sharply cut in a deep, true black only lightly edged with silver, his impression was altogether colourless; an excellent pencil sketch come to life.

"It is a shame that we could not meet again under strictly pleasant circumstances," the young man continued, arms crossed behind his back. "I believe that condolences are in order? I heard that the Erdlein family are arranging a funeral. It's such a tragedy to have lost a knight so soon after meeting them."

---

Tyaethe Radistirin

"I really have no idea what that boy's problem with me is," Tyaethe stated, looking at her now-empty glass and then at the tables. And... hm, that was an old friend she ought to catch up with. Especially if she'd heard things correctly, since it looked like some of their knights were involved too... "Try not to stand in a corner by yourself all evening. Not everyone here is a member of the nobility; I'm sure you can find someone to talk to."

Taking a detour to snatch another pair of glasses, one might at first get the impression that she was following Lein, but the vampire entirely ignored his attempts to seduce Fleuri to offer a salute to the elder crown knight with one of her glasses. "You're looking good, Addie. So, our knights causing problems?"

Not that she knew if Renar was doing anything (or Fleuri), eyes drifting over him curiously... and Felix. Hmm, looked pretty similar, hair notwithstanding. Family drama? What a mess.

Landshark

[Assistant]
Ah, it was a familiar face. Fanilly had known Lord Velbrance when the both of them were younger, having met a few times at functions arranged between his family and her own. She recalled him being a fairly polite boy, and while she had been rather shy at the time they hadn't gotten along terribly. Even if it had been quite some time since they'd last spoken, it was nice to see someone she knew even rather distantly now. Since they hadn't spoken in so long, while it was slightly discomforting to hear him forget her title she didn't truly blame him for it.

"Ah, Lord Velbrance, it's been a long time," she said, bowing her head with a smile on her face as she spoke. "I-"

She faltered when he continued to speak, breath hitching as Velbrance mentioned the death of Sir Rickert. His family... Fanilly knew he was a father. The news was surely devastating for his wife and child. She'd barely even known him, but Sir Ricket had swiftly proven himself to be an honorable and just knight even in her short experience with him as his Knight-Captain.

"... I wish I could take his death back," she said, finally, her tone considerably more morose, "He shouldn't have died."

She recalled Sir Renar's words from the previous night. While she wanted to prevent anyone under her command from dying, at the very least he had died fighting for Thaln's people. In the name of bravery and compassion. It didn't make it any less painful that he had died under her command, but at least he had died for what he believed in.

"I... I made the arrangements for his family as soon as I could," she continued, fingers clenching slightly at her sides, gaze downcast, "I must, I must make sure they are given the honors they deserve, as the family of a brave knight. It's all I can do."

Daze

[User]
Daze

---

"Pfft, ahah." Well, she shouldn't laugh but she was just so cute! She could tease the elf, but on the other hand, that might make her die from embarrassment, and that would be something she would reserve for if they were alone. "And here I was thinking you'd be taking the lead from how confident you were." She'd start with, taking Lilia's hand and placing it on her own shoulder. "Don't worry, just try and follow my lead, yea?"

She hadn't danced formally at a ball in a long time, but it should be fine.

"So, Lilia. You seemed awfully eager to dance with me."

Paladin@Psyker Landshark

---

Felix's smile grew more and more strained the more Renar spoke. He clutched the glass in his hand hard enough to turn his knuckles white. If he had been alone, not here in public, he probably would have just snapped already and drew his sword. This upstart little halfwit, thinking the Iron Roses were even half as good as the Crown knights! Infurating, and his sheer arrogance! He would have rebuffed him further, had he not been interrupted by someone he really was hoping hadn't overheard all of this.

"Ah, Sir Adeforth." Felix greeted him with a salute. "This man was dishonoring our order and I merely thought it was appropriate to reprimand him." He could have left this here. Now that Adeforth was present he shouldn't really run his mouth. But at the same time, now that he was here...perhaps he could take advantage of this. "However, if you are here and you would allow it. Brother. You and me. Duel. Now."

[Assistant]
"There's not much call for dancing on the road," Lilia mumbled, doing a remarkably good job of following despite her seeming lack of knowledge--although, for how fast she could clearly move, each step was notably shaky, the tall girl obviously focusing on correcting the movements as much as possible, "And people out in the countryside don't do this sort of formal stuff."

The blush showed no sign of going away, as the elf made a remarkable effort of looking anywhere but at Cecilia's eyes, "W-Well, you seem nice, and you're one of the Iron Roses. I've always wanted to meet one! N-Not at a party, really, some sort of tournament would be better... apart from the crowds..."

She trailed off, absent-mindedly adding, "One that's not mum, I mean."


[System]
"I don't want to save the world, just strike down those who set it aflame."
"One Who Brings Death"

Age
29

Race
Vashoth, has never been properly part of the Qun so he is not a Qunari

Class
Mage, Blood Mage

Magical Abilities
Through brutally, rigorous training and practice Katari has become a Blood Mage in a league all his own. Where others use blood magic as a last resort or to only augment their other powers Katari jumps wholeheartedly into the art. He excels in the fields of turning his enemies' own blood against them, using it to either heal himself or causing it to boil under their skin until they burst in a glorious crimson shower. As well he is an expert at bending the will of others while in combat and forcing them to fight as his puppets. Though not nearly as skilled as his manipulating of creatures of this world Katari has in the past been able to bend the will of lesser demons from the Fade. His combat style is different than the usual mage, preferring a up close and personal approach rather than firing away from afar.

Personality
If you were given a copper piece for every time Katari has been described as the "strong silent type" you would never have to work another day in your life. True to the stereotype that has befallen his people Katari on the surface seems quite menacing and imposing, not the one you would expect light conversation from, it is only when he talks that one would see how truly unique Katari is. For when he speaks Katari speaks with the same elegance of the Imperium's noble class, both well thought out and spoken sentences that just seem to flow so naturally one just can't help but be swayed by them. He is not one for jokes, remaining deadly serious most of the time, and likes to get things done as quickly as possible. His training and upbringing has made him slightly sadistic, he quietly enjoys breaking his enemies in both body and spirit especially when he knows they deserve it. Katari believes the end does justify the means, as in if he has to slaughter a few villagers to kill a magister he will do it with out hesitation.

Backstory
Katari's beginnings are a bit of a mystery for he is not sure of them himself. Was he the child of proud Qunari warriors who dedicated their lives to the Qun or was he the result of some drunken night between some Tal-Vashoth rebels, one can only guess. All that is certain is that through a series of misfortunate events Katari ended up in the possession of a Tevinter slaver, still a infant less than a year old. Despite all the bad blood between the Qunari and the people of the Imperium and the fact that most of Tevinter's population is made up of slaves a Qunari slave, Vashoth or otherwise, was unheard of which is what made it so scandalous to have one and whenever a scandalous occasion arises there was one Magister that always managed to capitalize on it. Alexandra Landraus was a Magister that knew by being the center of attention was the best way to ensure her a seat in power and the best way to remain the center of attention was by breaking the norm. So it is not hard to imagine that she snapped at the chance to own a Oxman for herself, ensuring that her name to be on many more lips.

This is where Katari's story truly begins. He was raised like a show dog, being trained to both impress and intimidate other Magisters at the command of Alexandra. It wasn't until he was ten that things started to become truly interesting in his life for that was when his magical powers surfaced. Like always Alexandra took advantage of the situation and began to turn Katari into a symbol that stood against everything the Qun and the Qunari stood for. She began to train him in blood magic as well as the politics of the Imperium, two things the Qun strongly disagrees with. But the worst of Alexandra's teaching methods was placing Katari into the Arena. The Arena was a secret event were Magisters brought their slaves and made them fight to the death for sport and entertainment. Katari was a natural in combat and quickly raised to become the champion of the Arena, earning the nickname The Executor.

Despite all the power and training she gave him Katari resented Alexandra for how she treaed him, a mere tool used for the soul purpose of getting her more power among the Magisters. It wasn't till after years of servitude that Katari managed to escape Alexandra, though his escape was quite bloody and did not end well for many of Alexandra's personal guard. Katari has since wandered aimlessly, as surprising as it was no one wanted to house a random Oxman, little a lone one that was also a mage. He managed to make coin by doing random odd jobs he came upon, mostly dealing with bandits or cutthroats that were harassing a local village.

Appearance
Katari is a towering individual, standing at 7'3 in height, with a muscular body build. His skin is a dark bronze color and is racked with countless scars. His hair is long and pure silver in color while his eyes are bright amber. He has four black horns, two large ones that extend towards the back of his head and two smaller ones that curve forward. He wears black and crimson red leather robes with a black cloak. His right arm is covered in armor that ends in a clawed gauntlet.

Other
He was named Katari by Alexandra after his first arena battle, she thought it was funny. Up to that point she referred to him merely as "my pet"

[User]
Maker, though the darkness comes upon me,
I shall embrace the light. I shall weather the storm.
I shall endure.
What you have created, no one can tear asunder.
-Trials 1:10

In Orlais you could never go far enough to escape the influence of the Chantry. In Val Royeaux the two towers of the Grand Cathedral dominate the skyline for miles and throughout the countryside smaller chapels dot the landscape. It was said that you were never too far from the Maker's grace a fact that Orlesian's take much pride in for it was Kordillus Drakon I of Orlais that founded the Chantry, and not some other backwater nation. The Chantry's close connection with the royalty promotes close connections between the aristocratic class and their reverence to the holy faith. This another facet of The Game in which those who donate the most coin out of pocket in donations get things done for them easier. It was because of this fact that Freyan was most acquainted with the Chantry.

One could have almost called Freyan devote in his beliefs as such things come easier when you raised among the heart of it. He remembered the times as a young boy that his family would travel to the Grand Cathedral to hear the words of the Grand Cleric or maybe even if they were lucky the Divine. The Cathedral was an astonishing sight to a young mind: glided white walls stretching into the sky, the Chant of Light almost emitting from deep within the building, the opulent banners and the hundreds of people. But the memories he held the most were of Sister Aurore telling him and the other children about Andraste's campaign against the Tevinter Imperium. It was in these stories of heroics and great battle that one could trace the young man's own desires to become a hero.

But Orlais seemed ages away from the City of Chains. Since he had arrived in Kirkwall after his contract with the Margrave of Ansburg had ended his hands had been rather busy. Through the steady march of the years he had gotten used to the switching of cities and the life of a vagabond always looking for work but it was always hard: making a name for one's self, finding a place to stay, finding work. In the beginning it was always hard. When you were busy killing raiders, catching thieves, and rescuing children who fell down wells you had little time to pray to the Maker and thank him for your good fate. In his disillusionment with the Chevaliers he had begun to doubt most of the things of his childhood and even at times his faith in the Maker. For if the Maker was real why would he let all the terrible things he had seen? In short finding him watching the anointing of a new Chantry was the last place you'd expect to see him.

Yet sometimes the melodic calling of coins falling within a purse was too much. He would like to say that it was a job and nothing else. He would like to say that only because the Viscount was hiring out extra muscle that he was there. He would like to say that the money was too good to turn down, which it was. But somewhere deep inside of him he had a sort of morbid curiosity about the whole event. The Kirkwall Chantry had a... troubled history to say the least and Divine Victoria new choice of Grand Cleric would not help the matter. The Viscont knew this and which is why he also hired a few mercenaries as well as the City Guard just to add another layer of protection. Freyan could not blame him as it was never bad to be prepared for violence. Judging from the mixture of reverent faces and hateful slurs Hightown was primed to explode.

So Freyan stood near the announcement dais just far enough away to not draw attention but close enough to leap into the fray to Protect the Grand Cleric if it came to that. To say that he stood out would be a bit of an understatement covered in full Chevalier's plate that shined when the sun hit it correctly. He had what one might call an intimidating figure with his sharp eyes focused with concentration. Some might of knew him as the ex- Chevalier had begun to make a name for himself as the man you want too when you needed your problems resolved. But if they did recognize him they did little to acknowledge him and Freyan almost preferred it that way. His own mind was going over several different worst case scenarios as sweat beacme to trickle down his forehead; Maker's Breath it was hot and the heavy plate was not doing him any favors in that department, but he did little to show any signs of discomfort. Though he did wish for the ceremony to begin just so that it could end.

[Assistant]
The new Grand Cleric's inauguration had drawn quite a crowd of spectators. They filled the Chantry courtyard and, even as they all watched the Elven woman on the raised platform in front of the the Chantry doors, they were in turn watched. By the City Guard, the Viscount's mercenaries, and, of course, dozens of Templars. The inauguration of such a controversial Grand Cleric was not something to be taken lightly and they weren't taking any chances with security. Only a fool would be stupid enough to try anything while down there in the courtyard, which is exactly why Viela was not in the courtyard.

She watched the events unfolding beneath her from a vantage point in the shadows, high up on the Chantry roof, from an eave overlooking the courtyard. From her perch she looked down on the elven woman in her religious garb and felt nothing. She understood why the client had requested an elf carry out the contract, a human assassin would turn the woman into a martyr, but if it were to be an elf who carried out the deed then the Chantry would likely just crack back down on elves everywhere. Viela knew this, and still felt nothing. She had no loyalty to her own kind, her own kind had sold her to the Crows in the first place, and she wasn't exactly Andrastian either. Death was the only god that Viela believed in. This was a contract, nothing more.

The proceedings began down below and a chorus of cheers and jeers reached Viela up in her perch. The elven assassin stood up and drew her daggers. The contract was clear: It had to be public. Viela stood up from her perch and, taking a breath to steady herself for what was to come, she dropped down onto the platform, between a pair of armored Templars. Even as they turned to look at her, still unaware of the danger she represented she drove her daggers up under their helmets, straight through the underside of their chins and into their brains. The holy knights dropped instantly and cries of shock, horror and outrage came from the crowd.

Viela was now well and truly the centre of attention and she could see guards closing on all sides. The closest threat came from the other two Templars standing on the other side of the new Grand Cleric, who had also turned to stare at her. As the Templars charged forward to get between Viela and her target, drawing their swords, the assassin leapt forward and ducked a sword blow from one, sliding a dagger through a point in the man's armor under his outstretched arm. As she withdrew the dagger she threw her weight into a kick, pushing the dying Templar into his comrade with caused them both to tumble off the platform and into the crowd. Viela turned on the Grand Cleric and leapt towards her, driving the woman to the ground with her knees, where she knelt atop her, and raised her dagger for the killing blow.

[User]
"There are too many damn oxmen in the city now. You would think that we were in Par Vollen!" A rather stout bearded man complained to a scrawny, balding fellow who sat next him at the bar, both seemed quite infatuated with the mugs in front of them and by the looks of it this had been the case for hours. "Yeah, the grey bastards everywhere nowadays, even that inquisitor bloke was one of 'em." The thinner of the two men said in a voice that could easily been mistaken for a nug attempting a war cry. The two men then exchanged a mutual grunt of distain before taking a swig of whatever swill that was being served that night at Lowtown's famous, or rather infamous, Hanged man tavern.

"I swear more in more of 'em are showing up everyday. Think they might try and take the city again?" The bearded man said in a rough voice, whatever he was drinking was obviously strong as he was looking pretty flustered from just that one swig. The twig of a man let out a snort, obviously not impressed with the idea of a Qunari invasion. "Bah! After the last time we thrashed them they will think twice before starting more trouble like that. By Andraste I would like to see them start something. I would-"

"You would do what may I ask?" A deep voice said from behind the two men, causing the thinner one to jump up slightly from his seat and spill his mug all over himself. The two would then and be greeted by the sight of a mountain of a Qunari standing before them, his hulking arms crossed in front of his massive chest. "I-I-I uh...." Was all the little man could manage to say, which caused the so called oxman to smirk slightly. "As impressive and intimidating as babbling as like a idiot may be I doubt it will do much against a Qunari." The towering horned man said as he stepped closer to the two men, causing them to lean back into the bar.

"Though my Qun fallowing kinsmen may be rather simple and brutish to say the least, they can more than handle the likes of you two." The Qunari continued, a mixture of terror and nervousness came to both of the men's faces. The Qunari then bent down slightly to bring himself to eye level of the two. "Though I am not a follower myself I do have a certain respect for the Qun and its teachings methods. Such as cutting out the tongues of those who speak such slander as you do." He said with a wicked grin on his face and a slight laugh. With that the two men quickly stood from their seats and proceeded to run from the tavern as if the blight itself was chasing them.

With another laugh the giant Qunari turned to the barkeep and bowed his head. "I am sorry good sire, but I am not one to take stupidity such as theirs to lightly." He said before pulling out a few copper pieces and paying for the drinks the men left abandoned at the bar.

Leaving the bar the Qunari proceeded to head towards the exit that would take him out of Lowtown and into the bustling streets of Hightown. "Well Katari lets see what all this nonsense about a new Grand Cleric is about." He spoke to himself as he began to climb the stairs.