[System]
Age: 18

Gender: Female

Bio: Originally from Crosshaven, Niana and her parents went up to the mountains looking for her older sister who had disappeared a few days before. It turned out that bandits had robbed her and left her for dead on the snowy slope of a mountain. When the rest of the family arrived, the bandits struck again, murdering Niana's parents but sparing her and leaving 12 year old Niana in the nearby forest to her fate. Determined to survive, Niana has lived for the past five years in the forest, not sure of where she was or how to get home. She learned to be self-sufficient and to thrive in the wild of the mountain and forests bordering the fields of Crosshaven, and eventually in the last year found her way back to the wide-open plains surrounding Crosshaven. She has not formally reentered the town, but instead watches and observes daily life from the shadows and outskirts of the town, which is how she found out about the Seer.

Who is the Seer?: Someone who can help her track down the men that killed her sister and parents.

There's mine ^.^V

[User]
When they received their drinks Ryan placed a couple of coins on the bar.

He called me a gentleman, a gentleman! Arman sniggered silently to Ryan, Oh that's a good one, you're a gentleman, you! That was too funny, them gentlemen? Oh, and she collapsed into silent laughter again, with Ryan gently thwacking her ear, to get her to stop. Pulling herself together, Arman stopped laughing and instead watched the scene further along the bar play out in front of her. Good material for a story if ever there was some. The wild girl, with very little clothes, was interesting for a start, and the person who had called out to her, Arman had long since given up trying to decide on a gender, was certainly quite a piece. The boy who offered the cloak like thing was also worth mentioning. Basically, Arman found the whole situation interesting. She took a swig of her milk, gulping it down. For now she was content to watch. But later, maybe, she might, might, jump in.

[Assistant]
*Thunk!* splinters were sent flying as the two pieces of wood cluttered to the ground. Hefting the ax onto his shoulder with a small grunt, Fredrick wiped his brow with his other hand, taking a brief moment to scowl through the harsh light at the fields of golden wheat gently swaying in the breeze. He heaved a sigh as the gentle winds washed over him, cooling his body down from the work he was doing behind the homestead.

"Fredrick!? Fredrick my dear boy!" a familiar voice called out.

Samuel Louis the farmer appeared around the side of house, moving quite quickly for a man with a fixed limp, his weathered face was bright red, which Fredrick could only assume wasn't from hard work out in the fields, with the stench of whiskey that hung about him.

"There you are lad. I have some news that may be of interest to ya, do you care to hear it?" He asked with a toothy grin, despite his worn appearance and habit of drinking away his savings, Samuel was a good man and a deceptively robust character.

"I know you have a penchant for gossiping, so I fear I'll hear this news regardless." Fredrick replied jokingly, swinging the ax down into the stump with hearty thump, where he had been cutting this afternoons wood.

The whiskers on Samuel's face seemed to bristle at the notion that his companion cared not for his tale, which he had so selflessly stopped his evening ritual to deliver. "So I suppose ye' don't care that there's a rumor that the legendary seer is in town." He said, trying to hide a grin as he waited for the young lads reception to the news.

Fredrick's face became fixed with a determined look as he immediately moved with a purpose, quickly tossing the two bits of wood into the pile, before rushing over to the back of the wagon where he placed his coat and sword while he worked.

"Forgive me Samuel, I'll need to borrow Killigan if I'm to see if this rumor is true." He said, not actually waiting for confirmation from Sam. The old man blinked in surprise as the lad bustled past him into the stable, before emerging moments later, leading his old grey gelding toward the front of the house.

"N-now, just hold on a second, I-I thin.." He stammered, but was cut short as Fredrick vaulted into the saddle and tossed him a small leather bag.

"That there is for Killigan, I do hope it's enough." He said, as the old farmer, stared bewildered at the golden light glinting from the bag. That had been the sum of his fortune that had survived the journey from his home land, he had hoped to use it to buy passage with some travelling merchants, but those few who did pass through the small town knew nothing of the name he gave them, he now hoped that it would help the old farmer retire for good.

Wild thoughts and stray memories swirled about his head 'The seer, a being that appeared in both his peoples and this lands stories of yore, here, in Crosshaven?'

Fredrick just had to know, spurring his heels into Killigan, he raced off toward town.

[User]
Names were being thrown at her as she stood in front of the Seer. "Whore!" one called out, "Put some damn clothes on you tart!" another slurred. Niana turned and hissed. Force of habit. A poncho was offered to her by a man next to the Seer. Niana shook her head but didn't say anything (although it's not like talking would come easily for her, years of solitude and no one to speak with will do that to a person.) As quick as a forest cat the Seer snatched the poncho and draped it over Niana, who squirmed and was obviously discomforted by the sudden covering of her body. The Seer began to speak, he or she commanded quite sternly that Niana not leave his or her side until their appointed strand of interwoven fate was unwound. The feral girl's eyes shifted uneasily to the Shaman biding his time at the side of the Seer.

Suddenly, a command that made her blink in surprise. "Now speak." The Seer had said. The words were there, floating in her head, filed ever since she had first heard of the seer coming along. My family was murdered and I need help finding those responsible is what she wanted to say, but it was like there was a disconnect from her brain to her mouth. She focused herself. Her human voice came out, forming words as a child might, just learning to speak. "F-fam-ily.." She rasped, "Murdered..." It was all she could say. Painful memories flooded back. Ones she had been suppressing for so long. The faces of her family, her sister, her mother, her father all floated in her mind like three hot brands. Angry tears welled up in her eyes, full of emotion, raw like someone who had never learned to cage their inner feelings. Though tears added a gleam to her tanned skin, she did not break eye contact with the Seer.

[Assistant]
"F-fam-ily. . . murdered. . ."

The shaman watched with some measure of interest as the Seer worked its magical power. It was strange. Though this wild-woman and the seer had just met already the power of that mystic seemed to be subduing her. With a simple worded command the dark-skinned woman was brought to the verge of tears, then, at the explanation of their source they fell unreservedly.

The whole scene was more than shocking; had the seer known these things would happen? Why else would it be here? It must has known, through some intuitive power, that the people of Crosshaven had been in need of its guidance. Truly the shaman was left in a state of perpetual awe. But then the realization of the situation hit, the gravity. If what the wild-woman said was true then that might mean there were still such men within the village' confines. Foremost as a healer the shaman had an interest not only in the welfare of the village but also its safety. There was no way of telling how long ago the murders had happened.

Argo longed to speak up, to question the woman, to find out the truth. Instead he remained silent. The way her tears fell, he felt that saying something might only causing further harm.

He would do as the seer had instructed, he would watch and wait, listen and learn. Although he was distressed by the pain of the wild-woman there was really nothing he could do for her, he did not know her or anything about her. No. The best course of action would be to see what the seer did, to follow its advice and pray to the gods for a positive outcome.

[User]
Lucas scooped up the various coins placed on the counter while scrambling to pour drinks for all who asked. All the while he was carefully watching the bar around him for anyone who was more rowdy than he cared for. For a more or less packed tavern, things seemed alright. Thankfully, the nameless fellow had taken a poncho and threw it over the skimpily dressed woman, people nodding in appreciation around her. One of the two merchants looked like he was trying to hold back laughter while the other looked upon him disprovingly.

As conversations swept through the bar, finally it seemed, Lucas knew why so many people had flocked to the Niirborhood Tavern. Apparently, The Seer had wandered in to town, and more than that, right in to Lucas's own tavern. Lucas himself rolled his eyes at this, thinking that the people of Crosshaven had a little more sense than that. The Seer was a story, that's all it was. No one like that could ever exist.

As Lucas continued to look around the tavern, he noticed the white haired girl was making a fuss, crying and looking very upset. Argo was also not looking very well either. Between them, the nameless fellow stood, emotionless as ever. Lucas frowned slightly and decided to incestigate. He shuffled down the bar, serving drinks as he went. "Excuse me, Argo!" He leaned over the bar and called over the other noisy voices to the only person he really knew in the group. "Everything alright over there?"

[Assistant]
Rhys looked to the bar seat beside him and slowly pulled himself up to sit on it. He watched the barkeep attempting to catch his eye but to no avail. He was tired and very hungry but he had to keep writing in case he missed something important. Pulling out the same sheet of paper from earlier he continued to write.

'Made it to the village of CrossHaven and found a tavern which many people seemed to rush to. There may be something big going on here. Could I be in the middle of something wonderful? Trying to order some food and drink and then will attempt to find lodgings. There are many strange people here, all of them are so different and I hope to make more new friends, if I make it...just a jest...or not'

Rhys chuckled to himself, he knew no one else would read these entries so he made funny jokes to himself for when he would read them back later in life. Rhys began to think, what would he do with all these entries, he had over 700 entries each as meaningless as the last. They were everyday things where nothing exciting happened, sure it was fun to write them but would they be fun and full of memories when he read them back. Rhys needed some adventurous events to happen to make it more interesting, to make him more interesting. He was a traveller with a boring life. Last week his was in a lively village and what did he do, spent most of the days sweeping a shop floor, cleaning in a tavern and grooming horses. Sure it was his way of earning money to travel but what if he found a job that was more exciting and actually involved interacting with people or something more meaningful, just something better to write in his entries so he wouldn't feel like he left his old life for nothing.

[User]
The Seer appeared...disappointed as the mystic looked into the girl's eyes. Having gleaned all the information that was necessary from her eyes the Seer turned from her to focus on finishing eating and drinking. "Revenge is it...not a motive we have any high regard for, all that breeds is hatred and malice." The Seer took another large drink of the honey-wine and smacked its lips a few times in contentment. "Despite these misgivings, fate has dictated this meeting and we shall see this through." The Seer reached into its cloak and brought forth a spool of white thread and unraveled a strand about a yard in length and cut it off with a fingernail of all things.

"Thread of Fate
Reveal the path to take
Connect the strands
Reveal the plan
Decide our fates
Before time dictates"

The Seer repeated this chant as fingers danced across the thread, leaving behind bows, loops, and knots as they went on. Soon the long strand was now looking quite irratic and utterly random. By the end there were three distinct segments that could be seen, one had more knots than anything else, the second had several bows and frayed edges, the third had a single loop and the just ended abruptly, the end torn off and broken. The Seer stared at the separate segments with a thoughtful expression, then handed it over to the young shaman. "So which of these three paths would you take?" The Seer asked and continued to finish the meal which was almost gone at this point.

[Assistant]
Taking the spool reverently from the Seer, Argo did his best to try and discern the differences between the three threads. He'd had some practice in the arts of scrying, though his ineptitude in such matters was plain before him now. To him the spools seemed to represent different paths, each one twisting and entwining itself to the others, each contributing towards a common, if confused, mass. "Forgive me Seer, but I can draw nothing of importance from it. These strands seem to represent the lives of various people, though how they interact and what will become of them I cannot say." In a way, Argo felt that he was already failing. Something as simple as this first task had clearly shown his training to be not up to the task at hand. Still, he couldn't let that deter him from future venture.

Twisting over the massed threads in his hands, Argo's eyes once again turned to the fellow mystic, offering a question. "If the Seer does not mind, I would like to know what they think of it?" The shaman's hands offered the twisted web of threads back, fingers guiding the clump back onto the table before the Seer. Perhaps if he knew something of the Seer's methods it would be easier to determine the proper way to answer the problem.

[User] As the Seer decried her dreams revenge out loud, Niana felt a wave of defeat wash over her. Her shoulders slumped. If she had cat ears they would have drooped. A fresh tide of tears came out and made their way down her already wet cheeks. Her family would never rest in peace it seemed. Their souls would be doomed to wander restlessly, justice eluding them. The feral girl wanted to storm out of the stupid human building and go running off into the wild, where she truly belonged; but for some reason she remained in front of the Seer who was doing some magic with a string. Not that Niana could understand any of it. She looked at the man next to the Seer. He smelled of herbs and spices. Some sort of shaman perhaps? It didn't matter. Niana grasped her knife around her neck with both hands and shut her eyes, trying to stem the tide of tears.


[System]
Age: 30
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Country of Origin: Falke
Appearance: Elric cuts an imposing figure, standing at an even 6 feet tall with a perfectly sculpted body due to the rigorous training he has undergone for most of his life. His skin has a healthy tan to it and shows off his impressive musculature due to much of his service in the Dragoons being spent outdoors bearing heavy equipment for hours on end. He keeps his jet black hair cut short on top of his head and rarely allows it to grow on his face for more than a day or two without shaving if he can help it. His dark gray eyes are set deep within his face and are often shaded by the overhang of the hawk helmet of the High Dragoon, making his expression often difficult to read. This is not helped by the fact that he is naturally rather stony-faced to begin with.
Personality: Elric's training in the Dragoons has instilled within him a fierce loyalty for his comrades in even the direst situations, and now, as High Dragoon, he employs a policy of leaving no man behind. His training with the Dragoons has also taught him valuable leadership skills, but also the humility to submit to the authority of a superior officer (although in his role of High Dragoon, the only superiors he has are Lord Dunston Hawke and King Frederick Highclaw III). That being said, he is not above questioning orders that he thinks are foolish or go against his morals or code of honor. Concerning his code of honor, Elric believes in dealing fairly and honestly with all people, even if they do not give him the same courtesy. He will not attack an unarmed enemy, nor will he attack an enemy who is unable to defend himself as such would be unfair. As for honesty, he will never say anything that is blatantly untrue, but that doesn't mean he will necessarily reveal the whole truth about something. His speech is often guarded, and he will often take time to consider his words before responding to any query, choosing just how much it is wise and polite to reveal. However, he is not above being sarcastic or even downright rude in his speech and dealings with people he finds distasteful, especially if he is under no social or hierarchical constraint to be kind or polite to them. In general, though, Elric is a kind and altruistic person to most people he meets unless they should do something to somehow prove that they do not deserve his kindness.
History: Elric was born the second son of Count Cedric Orstein IV, a minor noble in the lands of House Hawke. With his brother, Cedric V, the heir apparent to the county of Orstein and betrothed at birth to the daughter of a wealthy Baron, Elric was somewhat more free to choose his own future. He could not inherit his father's county (nor did he really want to, for that matter), but nearly any other option was available to him: he could marry into another noble family and become a count or baron himself; he could join the army as either a knight, archer, or dragoon; or he could set out and forge his own life anywhere else. In terms of the first option, that was how the house of Orstein became nobility five generations prior when Gareth Orstein came from Miraheim and married a widowed Countess who bore for him a son and heir to the county, Cedric Orstein I. Regarding the second option, many second and later sons of the house of Orstein had chosen that route and had served the Lord of House Hawke and the Falcon King with valor and honor. Regarding the third option, this had been chosen a few times among the sons of House Orstein, most recently by Elric's uncle Edward who had undertaken a holy pilgrimage to find meaning in life and had eventually come to Palaven where he now serves the Church of the One. Regarding Elric's disposition to these options, the first was wholly unappealing to him - while Elric did hope to one day to get married, he had no aspirations of being nobility. The life of a nobleman, while certainly comfortable, involved far too many duties that simply did not suit Elric's personality. The third option likewise did not appeal to Elric. Elric was an adventurous man who had traveled to a few of the other kingdoms of Aerion in his youth, but Falke would always be his home, and he had no desire to simply wander through the kingdom until he found an appealing prospect. The second option was much more to Elric's liking as it allowed him to serve the kingdom that he loved, gave him a stable life, and offered the possibility of adventure. Therefore, at the age of sixteen, Elric left his home for the nearest garrison and enlisted in the Dragoons.
Qualifying for service in the Dragoons was no easy task, and many prospective soldiers didn't last one year through the training. Those that did last usually took four or more years to complete all the training and fitness requirements to finally qualify for service in the Dragoons. In fact, there had never been a candidate who qualified for the Dragoons at a younger age than 20 years. Therefore, it was quite a surprise when Elric, through much hard work and perseverance, donned the arms and armor of the Dragoons at the age of eighteen, just over two years after beginning the training. Elric's ambition did not stop there, however. He served faithfully in the Dragoons for the next twelve years, quickly ascending the ranks of the military branch until achieving the rank of High Dragoon in only ten years, a feat unheard of in the entire history of the Dragoons. Since the establishment of the Dragoons, no one had ever achieved the rank of High Dragoon in less than fifteen years, and no one had ever achieved the rank before age 40, yet Elric did both, to the amazement (and occasional jealousy) of all his comrades. Now, with the turmoil in Aerion and the prophecy of the Monks of Ekilore, Elric, with the blessings of Lord Hawke and King Highclaw, sets out for Ekilore to hear the prophecy of the Monks and do his part to save not only the kingdom of Falke, but all of Aerion. He has no idea what any of this may entail, but he is determined to do his part because if the people who love their land won't take a stand to save it, who will?
Weapon Preference: Elric is most skilled with his spear, a long, barb-headed pike, but will often start a fight using his bow and arrows until the enemy comes into spear range, at which point he will switch over to his spear.
Side: Knights of Ekilore

[User]
Wordlessly, Catskull boarded the ship and surveyed the top deck. The boards seemed solid, and despite how the ship appeared it was indeed well put together. He imagined pirates boarding the ship, and permitted himself a leonine smirk at the thought of their faces upon encountering not a crew of hapless fishermen or sailors, but armed knights. He couldnt help but hope for such an amusing diversion.
with a sigh he strode towards the entrance to the hull, ready to get out of the sun. His pale skin burned easily, and he felt lethargic now that nothing but a long, tedious voyage awaited him. Fantasies of conflict could only sustain him for so long and he sought the oblivion of sleep.

"Wake me if ye' sight anyfoe worth cutting", He called. "I, Catskull Maclung, shalt not rest amongst the others, thus do not seek me. Merely shout mine name if it is thy wont, but do so not lightly or for mere trifles."

He slipped below deck like an eel into dark waters, footsteps making nary a sound to be heard.

[Assistant]
Elric watched as each of his companions accepted the quest in turn. He almost immediately took a disliking to the Ethorian man he had seen first upon his arrival at the tower. This Sir Roland seemed far too arrogant for Elric's liking. In fact, nearly every one of Elric's companions had something that put Elric off in some way: Catskull Maclung seemed both rude and far too predisposed to violence; Sir Duncan also seemed arrogant in his own way, not quite like Sir Roland, and certainly less off-putting than Sir Roland, but his idea of being somehow hand-picked by Andal himself rubbed Elric the wrong way; and the elf just seemed a bit too stand-offish. Of all the companions to undertake this quest, Karl was the only one who seemed to project a friendly and courteous air that Elric took a liking too. However, regardless of how Elric might feel about any of his companions, they were all on the same quest, and Elric would stand beside them all staunchly through the conclusion of this quest, and maybe he would come to learn that his first impressions of them were wrong.

In any event, the monks informed them that their first destination would be Miracia, near the border of Falke, and that they had already commissioned a ship to bear them to this destination and hired a man to guide them to the presumed hiding place of the first shard of the Orb of Ardor. Elric bowed to the monks as he and his companions were dismissed, then donned his helmet and followed the Eunuch to the docks. The ship awaiting them seemed to be of middling size, dark and unadorned save the embroidered insignia of the Monks of Ekilore on the sails. It should provide them with a comfortable enough voyage, though Sir Roland saw fit to insult it on first sight. Elric, in his usual quiet manner, boarded the ship wordlessly and stood at the starboard side, looking out to the sea as he waited for the ship to shove off.

[User]
Edon Wolf
Outside the City Gates
Dalenham, Ethora

And so Edon had arrived on his own well ahead of time. Nothing had happened to him and there was no sign of an ambush. Slowly, as the sun eagerly began to peek over the horizon, tradesmen began to drift out of the city with wagons loaded heavy by goods. Woodsmen and farmers filed into the city with wagons loaded with goods to trade or empty and looking to be filled. A beggar seemed to eye the location to ask for scraps; he reconsidered after a withering glare from Edon and went into the city.

Eventually, Varian arrived. The man was clearly hungover. Edon did a poor job of hiding his shock at this, and a much poorer job of hiding his detest over the affair. Then again, his scowl might just as easily be mistaken for the same expression he had worn since arriving at this city.

When Drosten joined them, he would be given a glare that suggested Edon did not like him much. He was just in a bad mood now. However, hearing about how messy drunk they had gotten on the eve of meeting with a suspicious benefactor for a too-good-to-be-true secret mission didn't make him any happier.

[Assistant]
Sir Roland Grey - The Dock of Ekilore

The sailors had finished loading all of the supplies, and everyone now appeared to be on board the Pendant. Roland watched the sailors load up the last of their rations curiously. They weren't any of his men. Nor were they any of those from the other knights' ships. The Ekilorian knight assumed this was some neutrality security measure, but he didn't like the idea of sailing with unknown men. What if they were incompetent? What if they were spies? Thoughts like this pestered Roland constantly. However, he was confident even if they did end up being more nefarious than they appeared, he would cut them down without hesitation.

When the odd man Catskull announced his departure below deck, Roland wasn't sure what to make of it. On one hand, he disliked his odd cadence and demeanor. On the other, he respected his isolation and quick-to-action attitude. He was not sure about him.

"Weigh anchor, all hands. Prepare to make sail!" Captain Crewe exclaimed as his busy sailors go to working the Pendant out of the harbor and out onto the open sea. Roland meanwhile took a look at the shrinking island behind them, though the Tower of Oculus still stood proudly into the sky. He turned around again and gazed at his companions on his quest. While he was unsure of what to make of Catskull, he had already begun to form opinions of the others. He already viewed Kace as a uncultured savage, but that was confirmed when he announced himself as a man of both dwarven and highmen descent. Roland was not going to get along with him. The elf knight was an elf. That was all Roland had to go off of, and in his mind really all he needed. While he knew of Sir Duncan's skill, he was less so impressed with his pious devotion to Andal. While devotion to the gods was acceptable in Roland's eyes, he is cautious when that devotion becomes fanatical. To Roland, Duncan was dangerously stepping into that territory. The Knight Elric appeared more subdued to Roland, but he still didn't know what to make of him. Needless to say, he doubted the skills of a Falkan knight, even a Dragoon.

As unimpressed as he was, he also knew he would be around these men for quite a while. If they didn't die too fast, Roland thought it be a good idea to get to know them some more. "Quite a quest we find ourselves on, hmm?" He questioned the others as his continued to wander across their faces and clothes with an unimpressed, smug glance. "I suppose since we shall be around each other quite a lot, it is imperative to know more about one another, yes? So... I hesitate to ask, but do any of you have anything worth sharing?"

[User] Elric turned around at the sound of Sir Roland's voice addressing him and the other knights. He raised an eyebrow curiously at Roland's question, though this gesture was lost in the overhang of his helmet. "Why do you hesitate to ask, I wonder?" he muttered in Falkmor, before responding to the actual question in Ethorian, this time loud enough for Roland to hear. "I suppose that depends on what you consider to be worth sharing, yes?" he said, his tone guarded as usual, and offering no further information.


[System]
Appearance:

Symbol:
Age: 18

Height: 6'0

Weight: 130 Ibs

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Weapons: He wears bracers that have a retractable 7-inch blade in the shape of an arrow. When retracted, the bracers shoot 10mm rounds. Each bracer holds 20 shots, with extra ammo in pouches on his belt. A visor he wears with its own Heads Up Display uses a pair of crosshairs to show where he is aiming his weapons, improving his accuracy. They were designed and created by his dad when he unsuccessfully applied to Beacon around the same age as Robert. They are the only physical objects remaining from his family's past.

Specialty: Robert is best at fighting an opponent one on one, and because of this he relies heavily on teammates when in a large conflict with multiple enemies. It is also because of his helpful and team-player attitude that his teammates chose him to be the leader of his original team, RPGD, to his surprise.

Semblance: Robert's semblance allows him to subliminally affect probability fields, causing improbable, but not impossible, "unlucky" events to occur to enemies within his line of sight. At the time, Robert has no idea that he even has a semblance, let alone has been using his semblance on himself for years to increase his already bad luck to near-immeasurable levels.

Personality: Robert is an average geek with an interest in subjects like comics and ancient world history. Most groups of people would probably describe him as everyman due to him not having much in the way of impressive skills while others might see him more as a goofball thanks to his usual optimistic and joking attitude. When the going gets tough though, the red haired boy is a good person to have by your side as he will never give up or surrender, even when all may seem lost.

Eight year old Robert sat in front of the television, playing with his toy cars and action figures. Behind him, Robert's dad sat in a reclining armchair, half reading the newspaper in his hands and half listening to the TV. "John, could you help Scarlet with her dinner," Robert's mother called from the kitchen. "Yes, Marian," Robert's dad answered, walking towards the small toddler that was Robert's sister. Robert looked up from his toys to see the news channel that was on show the words "Breaking News". The anchorwoman then read the new news, "A warning to all human families living in neighborhoods with large majorities of Faunuses, the organization known as the White Fang, previously known for its peaceful protests, has been attacking humans in the before-mentioned neighborhoods. This recent aggression is suspected to be a result from-" Robert's dad turned the TV off. "You don't need to listen to that garbage, son," he said. He then walked back to the dinner table where Scarlet was playing with her food. Robert went back to playing with his toys. Unbeknownst to the Fallson Family though, a small crowd gathered outside.

Six Faunuses stood, looking at the happy family inside. "Burn it down," said the leader. The other five threw Molotov Cocktails at the two story house, the fire quickly spread throughout the bottom story and the roof. No one inside knew what was going on, all they knew was that the house had spontaneously burst into flames. Robert's mother screamed, Robert's sister cried, Robert's father yelled orders, and Robert continued sitting there confused, trying to understand what was going on. His father grabbed Scarlet, his mother grabbed a family photo album, and they both sprinted towards the staircase. As they reached it, his dad stopped and turned around, "Come on, Robert!" he cried. Outside, the leader of the attack turned and grabbed a baseball bat that was strapped to his back. It suddenly transformed into a grenade launcher, and one shot was fired. The single grenade incinerated the wall it struck, as well as the three humans standing next to it. In a flash, Robert's family was gone. A single, burning photo floated into Robert's lap. He stood there dumbstruck at what just happened. The creaking of the roof brought him back to reality though, as a large burning beam fell from the roof. He tried to dodge, but was too slow. It fell right on his back, pinning him to the ground and burning his flesh. He was able to quickly wiggle out from under it though, and jumped out of the hole in the wall that the grenade had made earlier. He laid on the lawn of his house, clutching the photograph from earlier. He saw the six Faunuses slowly approaching him, ready to finish the job. The sounds of sirens around the corner stopped them in their tracks though, and they escaped. Robert continued lying there, unable to move, sobbing. One of the officers picked him up and carried him to a patrol car. After sitting in the passenger seat for several hours, one of the firemen walked up and gave him the only other thing that survived the fire, his father's visor and bracers which were in the basement during the fire. Afterwards, the officers and firemen left Robert alone. Bad choice. He rose from the seat and walked off into the night, passing a street sign that read "Loxley St." Robert's eight year old mind thought of nothing but wanting to be alone.

For the next several years, Robert would live on the streets. Stealing food and other necessities only when he had no other choice, and only from people who could still live without those necessities. Witnesses would often report to the police that the only thing they saw before their things were stolen was a figure with a green hoodie.

Robert didn't go it alone for all those years though. He did make some friends at a restaurant named Fryer Tuck's Diner; namely Tuck, Alan, and Miller. If not for them, he might not have been able to go to Beacon as they were the ones who helped him acquire a GED as well as the application for Beacon. If not for their moral support and assistance, he would have probably never gotten off the streets and into the prestigious academy.

Theme Song: Kansas - Carry On Wayward Son

Based off of: Robin Hood

Color: Rosso Corsa

[User]
Cian Kuze -- Armory Scraproom

Cian sighed as she looked at the small pile next to her full of small parts that was needed to make the headset work. Though she turned her head when she heard Lukes question what was she missing she had the major components for the headset and goggles what else did she need? Well beyond that the redesign required a different set of goggles but she had what she need with the basic frame she found. So all that really remained was a lens which she was holding and a transceiver she need a pair of them. "I need at least two transceivers Luke and a additional rectangular lens." she said as she went back to searching through the scrap pile looking for the items in question.

[Assistant]
Abel Fulgurate – Grimm Studies
@forsythe@krayzikk@Onarax@Jedly

At last Abel's spirits began to rise. To assign credit where credit was due, Jack's bold move had come up aces for the team. Of course, a Megaladeus with its bite disabled provided a stiffer challenge than your everyday fish, its speed and strength would not prevent the students from serving up a hefty portion of defeat on plates of cold steel. Even Robert's tomfoolery -how did he even get into Beacon!? And how did I lose!?- failed to take the edge off Abel's good mood, even though his presence made the sudden invention of the first-ever Robert-ke-bob a remarkably probably event. While others kept watch, like Cobalt and Sangue, or did nothing, like Sepia, Diamond, Benjamin, Napoli, and Delta, Abel resumed his steady aiming of the Ampere. This time, with the Grimm monster at the surface in a mad effort to hydrate Robert and figure out how to not bite a giant foam lilypad, there lay for Abel a clear shot.

He did not waste it.

The guardian grinned as his weapon hit its mark, piercing its side. "Hey, listen for a sec'!" he shouted. "I hit a painful but nonvital spot so the thing doesn't berserk. If we kill it now, we can turn it into mincemeat before it goes nuts. I give it twenty-five seconds until our attacks don't work anymore. Time to move!"[/color] He closed his fist and pulled, threads of electricity yanking the speared Megaladeus toward the side of the pool. It was now or never.

[User]
Luke Schwarz -- Armory Scraproom

"Like this one?" he asked, holding up a matching lens literally the second after she had finished her response with a smirk. Handing it over, he was almost surprised by his luck there. He'd literally been eyeing it as she had begun to respond.

Nice timing.

"Two transceivers..." he repeated, bringing a hand back to his chin to his chin and closing his eyes thoughtfully. He knew he'd seen some a while ago...

His eyes opened wide as it came back to him. That's it! the same box he'd been digging through while he started this whole sequence! He was fairly sure they'd been there, along with a plethora of other useful objects that he simply hadn't needed. Perfect!

Setting down his things once more, he deftly side-hopped over to original box, bending over and yanking it back out from the shelf.

Forcing the cardboard flaps apart as if opening some great set of double-doors, he beheld them, laying at the top of the pile: two gray blocks, what you might find if you disassembled an ethernet port or somesuch, the compact combinations of both transmitter and receiver.

"These?" he asked again, presenting them to her in each hand.

[Assistant]
Benjamin Lloyd

Ben almost rolled his eyes, probably would have if he weren't busy trying to find the chance to attack without overdrawing at the Aura bank. Something that, by now, he knew was impossible. So what was the next best option? Being as reckless as possible, of course. And nothing was more reckless than diving straight into the water, using Deinamig to pump up his legs, and going to town.

His first dive let him rake Artorius and Lawnslot along the beast's flank as he descended, and a few kicks of his legs brought him about to face it again as it tried to circle the pool. A few more kicks to put him on an intercept course, triggering the shotguns once he was close enough, and using the extra force from it and Deinamig to pierce deep. Remove weapons, reorient, repeat.

The downside, of course, is that he was eating up his Aura supply every time. A fact aggravated by his own weapons continuing to drain to try and replenish their own stores. He'd already popped both batteries but the boost didn't add up to much. Ben was going to have to hope that the beastie didn't manage to get a few good hits in while he was playing hit and run.

[User]
Oswald Connolly- Armory

Chuckling at Emerald's boundless enthusiasm for the task at hand, Oswald contemplated her idea for goggles that connected to Scrolls. "Now, that's a good base idea, but I was thinking of something...a little more grand. It would take some serious engineering, but I think we could pull it off." Looking over at his teammate, Oswald nodded a few times.

"I was thinking we mount a camera or two- a small one- on ourselves. Maybe one in back, one in front? Then we hook those cameras up to these goggles and superimpose a small picture of the camera's capturing over the person's view. Just not sure how to toggle through or actually move the smaller feed if it gets in the way..."

[Assistant]
Napoli Fiordilatte (THIS WEEK ON SHARK WEEK: GRIMM STUDIES)

Contrary to what appeared to be the popular opinion, Napoli was not, in fact, sitting idle. Instead he was dealing with the critical nuisance that seemed to plague so many snipers, bodies of water. The simple fact of the matter was that large depths would indeed slow down his bullets. He would have a few feet, but it wasn't enough.

This was a great opportunity to figure it out.

So while everyone else was playing the role of the fool in their awkward sword stabs and competing ideas of teamwork, Napoli was conducting an experiment. By utilizing wind dust bullets, he was able to displace quite a bit more water than normal with each shot, but it still wasn't satisfactory yet. That's when he started adding more bullets, utilizing his semblance to make the minor adjustments necessary to keep the bullets directly in line with one another. The first few bullets created a path that the last few used to kill the target.

Like a modern day Robin Hood splitting the arrow.

Satisfied with his experimentations, Napoli aimed his rifle with a large grin spreading across his face. It didn't matter where the shark ran too now, he'd be able to shoot it down without ever entering the pool. No need to get cold feet after all, Napoli mused as he fired off a stream of bullets at the shark.

BOOM.

HEADSHOT.

This is too easy.

[User]
Cobalt Chideta-Grimm Studies

Cobalt chuckled and clicked his gun to fully auto. The Napoli guy was smart, using sniper bullets to displace the water for further sniper bullets to get farther. A smart tactic, one that Cobalt wouldn't have thought of. Then again, he wasn't a sniper. Cobalt cracked his neck and began speaking.

"Alright, fire at will! Let's tear this oversized shark a new asshole!" Cobalt began firing at the Megaladeus rapidly, making sure to avoid any spots where others were melee attacking. The bullets sunk into it, but didn't penetrate very deeply due to the water slowing down the bullet. Everywhere above water though was fair game as they tore apart flesh with a wet thud. Cobalt remained steady throughout the firing, anyone else fired a bullet from this it would dislocated their shoulder.

[Assistant]
Robert Fallson - Grimm Studies

Now that the Megaladeus had finally been stopped in its tracks, Robert used this time to regain his ability to breath. He climbed out of the pool, gasping for air, and just laid there for a minute, breathing hard. "Next time... someone else... can be bait," he said, taking in large gulps of precious oxygen between every couple words.

Getting back up to his feet, Robert looked at the Grimm that had just taken him on a very wild ride. Transforming his weapon into their ballistic form, the red-haired teen aimed straight at the space between the Grimm's eyes. "Looks like you'll be..." Robert quickly ran over to where he had left his stuff, grabbed his glasses, and ran back to the edge of the pool and put them on. "Sleeping with the fishes." Robert pulled the trigger and the 10mm round left his weapon with explosive force. Or, at least, should have. Instead, all that left the barrel was a stream of water that landed at Robert's feet. "Well that was anticlimactic."


[System]
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Description or Image:
Alias/Nick Name: Bob, The Jersey Devil
Background & Reason for Joining: Jacob was just like any other young rich kid who thought they were ten feet tall and bullet proof. Where actions didn't involve consequences, and the whole city was simply a playground. He and his friends would take to the streets daily to skate, or bike, or in Jacob's case, Run all over the city. There were no places safe from Jacob and his friends, and if there was a place they were not supposed to go, they found a way in. They never Stole anything, or hurt anyone, they were simply obnoxious and annoying, and didn't understand the concept of trespassing.

Then one day, a new building was constructed. A big fancy lab of some sort, and it didn't take long for the friends to break in to have a look around. They were creating weapons and things that looked super high tech, but not uniformed like it would be for a military. Jacob was trying on a nifty set of clawed gloves, and spring like boots, and turned to his friends saying, "I'm Catman" when all hell broke loose.

This place didn't play by the rules. There was no, "Freeze.", "You're Under Arrest." Nothin. Two of his friends were shot down in front of him, and none of them made it out that he knows of. Jacob made it out doing what he did best. Running and jumping, and with the gloves and boots, there was nothing to slow him down.

He had hoped to go home and report to his rich dad about what he had found, but when he got there, he found the people from the lab already there. His family, and everything he knew was dead. He quickly withdrew all the money he had access to, and left behind the name of Jacob Richman. Running to Hero City he fell into deep depression and spent most of his nights drinking and practicing his parkour throughout the city with a mask to hide his identity. It was on one of these nightly excursions that he noticed a new building being built. A new lab. Rage replaced depression, and he decided he should do something about it. He stumbled across an odd blog while trying to get a clue as to where he should even start, and figured it was as good a places as any. Champs huh?

Personality: On his good days, Bob is an overly friendly socialite, especially if he's too drunk or distracted to remember his past at the time. He truly seems like a guy with no care in the world, and will give out money and gifts to anyone he meets. He was that guy all the time once, but now, there is a seriousness, and haunting glint behind his eyes, and a bitterness towards the world under his tongue. He can still come across as cocky though.

Powers & Weaknesses:
Parkour Expert, very efficient with other X-Game equipment but specializes in the Parkour.
Jump boots: the boots read the pressure and force of the wearer, then channels extra force back down, causing a bounce effect. The more pressure applied, the more let off, while also buffering the impact from the wearer, allowing them to land on their feet without shattering their legs.
Claws: retractable claw inside gloves that are reinforced with the same insulation as the boots to accommodate impact. While considerable weapons, The Jersey Devil uses them to help him climb, and steer his running.
Mask: and old gas mask modified to have headphones, and protect his eyes and lungs from smoke.

weaknesses:
-slight obsession with revenge against the labs.
-tendency to take too big of risks.
-Still being hunted by the labs for their stolen tech.

[User]
Bob admittedly glossed over most of the technical jargin Manny was using, but was smirking by the time he had finished. He would take the offered earpiece, and turn mostly to Manny. "You sound a lot like my old friend Zane. He used to do all the hacking and tinkering back in the day." he tapped the gas mask, indicating the modifications that were made in it. "If we're good, think you'd be able to tinker with some more stuff? I have some ideas I have been thinking about. Not sure what everyone else can do... But I'm no Superman." He lifts one hand, flexing the fingers some to pop out the sharp claws, then retracting them again. "I haven't the foggiest idea how these things work, just know that they do." He rolls back on his heel's some, the boots pushing him back up into a small hop.

He turns to the others, a brow lifting questioningly. "Any of yall bullet proof, or flying or something? Hear there's a guy who can lift a who city bus... Any of yall able to do something like that?" He picked up a lot of random information while bouncing around the city. Thugs tend to talk about heros and villains when they're scared of getting caught. He had heard a lot about the Big time heroes just like everyone, but he'd never heard of these smaller groups back in Jersey.

[Assistant]
Link gingerly placed the micro devices in his inner jacket pocket. He looked on intently as Bob displayed his demo of abilities. Are we bullet proof?, he silently repeated Bob's question in his mind. If I were bullet proof, I wouldn't be sitting in this apartment, that's for sure. What he could do, though, paled in comparison to An Indestructible, A Muscle or a Flier. At least, it certainly wasn't as traditional. Then again, neither was Link.

"So Metal Man, with a super suit, and Gas Mask, with the hoppity hops and the pokey pokes, are coming in from the roof. Me and Chatty Cathy are shooting for general entry. And, all the while, we've got to avoid suspicion, get passed any security, find Bucur and successfully extract him without dying." It nearly sounded like a question, but was purely rhetorical. Link just had to keep it all straight in his mind and an audible recap was typically his go-to.

His eyes shot over to Talia's. For a few beats, he remained silent, sizing her up. These roles they were about to play were either going to require a lot personality or a lot of honed skill. He could probably provide the former. He just hoped she could at least cover the latter. They could get stuck in queue purgatory if the bouncer decided they weren't worthy of admission and its not like Link had the scratch to bribe their way in. Usually the quickest way in was to bring some skimpy party girl with you, but Talia didn't seem the type. Maybe he could call in a club rat or two just to get in the door?

He finally broke contact and, with a closed mouth, his tongue began to run along the sides of his teeth, an automatic tic that occurred when he was mulling something over in his head. How were they going to do this...? Maybe if they-

"MESSAGE, MUDDAFUKKA!
MESSAGE, MUDDAFUKKA!"

Link was snapped out of his thought by the text notification on his cell phone. He scrambled to pull it out and unlock the screen.

`From: Bertha McBigTiddies

Where did you go, Finger Man? You were A-M-A-Z-I-N-G! A deal is a deal. You showed me what you can do, I'll show you what I can do. Tonight you're drinking free anywhere downtown as my VIP. All the bar tenders and owners know me. They'll treat you like a king. Password is 'Banana Hammock'. Don't be a stranger! XOXO`

A grimace formed on Link's face, but soon softened into a state of intrigue. He couldn't remember her real name, but that lady could drink. I guess being in the liquor business would provide anyone ample time to build up a tolera-

"Oh-ho!" Link couldn't help the outburst. An epiphany hit him like a freight train. He looked up at Talia again, his hungover mind racing as fast as it could under the circumstances. This was it. This was the In. "Alright, Chatty, you better have your glass slippers ready, because I just got us tickets to the ball. You can be Cinderella and I'll be Prince Charming."

Feeling a small sense of accomplishment, Link felt he was deserving of a little reward. They wanted a show and tell? Fine. Without leaning forward in his seat, he extended his hand toward the pile of donuts. He was well short of the necessary distance, but he wasn't done, yet. Gradually, his middle finger began to stretch and pop, extending further and further until it plunged itself into one of the donut holes. With a flick and a turn of his wrist, the ringed donut slid all the way down his now two foot long finger and stopped abruptly at his knuckles. The finger shrank back to normal size as Link took a healthy bite of the donut, grabbing what was left of it with his other hand.

"Ah lihk da pink ones wif sprinklez bedder," Prince Charming announced as he chewed, some bits of the donut falling into his beard. He looked over to Talia. "So whatchoo do, pinsess?"

[User]
@myinneroblivion @ShadowsofNight

---

Things were going better than expected. Lady luck was finally smiling down upon them after a year and a half of getting kicked in the teeth by her metaphorically and literally at one point for a former hero of CHAMP, Pearly Whites. Poor guy had to get dentures after getting a face full of boot...seven times in one fight.

"Sure thing, Bob. Maybe you can even invite your friend Zane to help me tinker with your gear." Manny says innocently with a friendly thumbs up before turning to Link and Talia. "That would be the plan as the client would prefer that Bucur to face justice but...has no qualms if we kill him. He'd still consider the job done and we'd still get renown and paid." Manny pauses and scratches the back of his head while slightly looking down to the floor. "I know that killing people is unavoidable at times in our line of work but I follow a strict no-kill rule that Captain Amazing followed." Manny believed that the late great hero did it out of the altruistic sense of righteousness of giving a bad soul to reform and be good. But in truth it was simply bad for the sponsors if their 'hero' had any blood on his hands.

"But I know that the thugs in the nightclub will likely have guns in their possession and I've learned from my mistakes over the past year and a half. I don't have them with me right now...but I will have them by tonight. They're personal shield generators. The kind that people like the President have. I'd go into detail on how I made these from junk but I think it'd take too long and it'll just bore you guys. Just keep in mind that these things will protect you from a few bullets but not so much from slower moving things like thrown objects, fists, or melee weapons."

[Assistant]
Okay that's cool and definitely useful for something like this, Talia thought as she watched the man by the window display his claws and bounce abilities. She wondered what his gas mask thing did, but then decided that was probably really obvious and that she'd look stupid for asking about it. Also, she began to wish she had the ability to have some claws that could just pop out of her hands because that just sounded awesome.

However, when it came to The Finger showing his skill to them all, she couldn't help but start slightly and then laugh out loud. Her laugh was soft but audible and trained, just like the rest of her, to be ladylike and gentle and graceful. God, how Talia wished to just be able to talk and sound and act like the rest of humanity. They seemed so free to be themselves. "Sorry," she said to the others, feeling the need to apologize even for that. "It's just... I honestly did not expect that but should be interesting."

She took a breath then turned to Manny and also took one of the earpieces carefully for herself, saying a sweet "thank you" as she did so before turning back to the others. "Well, it so happens I can indeed be the perfect Cinderella," she said with a hint of a semi-forced smile. "But I'm a ribbon dancer and if anyone here does not know what that is, it is a display on stage of a lot of acrobatics and some skill. I cannot reveal very much here, as it is not a lot of space to work in without umm knocking things over," she finished with an actual, amused smile this time.

Then she took off the jacket and placed it onto the arm of a chair and removed the ribbons from her bag. Breathe. Ignore their stares. This was nothing more than another performance, she thought to herself. With that, she began twirling the ribbons about in expert, controlled movements that whipped and whistled above their heads and to sweep the floor as she herself twirled and leapt about, circling the group, making such use of the space that the size of the apartment seemed to be forgotten. It would be clear to the onlookers, that she had control of the entire room similar to how an actual performer could command the stage but also literal control as the ribbons whipped around and energies swirled. It seemed as though she was in control of the forces, bending them to her will, but in fact she worked in tandem with them: a cooperative, enchanted performance.

Afterwards, she stopped and stepped up closer to them all again and showed each the thickness and strength of the sheer fabric, a material that was not fragile at all, and also the razor-tipped metal edges that she had had sewn into the fabric itself to make the whip-like ribbons a weapon, capable of stripping skin and slicing through other materials as well. "I know it doesn't seem like much," she said, her confidence temporarily fueled by the performer she was, "but I have even been able to suspend my entire weight by these so they are not just weapons, but I can send them out and swing from them too. Also, if you take a look around, you'll notice that nothing and no one is damaged even though I whipped them around each of us. I hope that is a satisfactory performance for you all to still consider me."

[User]
Bob's expression instantly fell at the mention of inviting his dead friend. Zane would have loved this. He was such a huge fan of the heros and always talked about being one some day. It was Zane that spread the rumors of the Jersey Devil after giving him the mask. Bob just nodded to Manny, and turned with a little more interest at the prospect of knowing what the woman could do.

His brow raided again as the woman took of her jacket, and his mind was racing to produce some smart ass comment, though all thoughts stopped as she started her performance. After seeing the razor tips, and the skill in which she used them, he began reconsidering his call for 'dibs' he was going to call out in jest. He was a fan of having all his limbs attached, and didn't think it smart to upset such an apparently dangerous woman.

After his surprise wore off, he applauded shortly, looking to the others. "Whelp, I'm sold." And he slips his helmet back on to hide any further betraying facial expressions.


[System]
Age: 26
Gender: Female
Appearance:

Position: Marine Master Sgt (Medical Officer)

Personality: Selene is cool and professional. She brooks no interference in her area of expertise but respects professionals in other fields. She views the Marines as her family and can be very protective of them.

Notable Skills, Combat or otherwise: Selene is highly qualified in the fields of medicine, biology and cybernetics. She has completed the basic marine combat qualification course but hasn't fired a weapon since her basic training. She is physically fit and very agile. She speaks Enlgish, German, Swiss and Italian fluently and can also get by in Spanish and Mandarin.

History: Selene was born on a USEA base on Luna. Her mother and father were both members of the USEA marine corp. Her mother and father were frequently deployed and she grew up with her father's relatives in Bern Switzerland.

She graduated at the head of her class and went to medical school at the University of Lucerne. A year before she graduated her father was killed in action during the suppression of one of the frequent rebellions sweeping the outer colonies. Against her mother and families wishes she enrolled in the USEA Marine Medical Corp. After service on several ground based medical facilities she has been posted to the Convergence of Destiny as the Marine Medical Chief.

[User]
Tyrone felt the low rumbling of the dropship turn into a violent shaking as the ship neared impact. Fifteen seconds he heard the medic say, and with it the adrenaline started pumping through his veins. He maintained a countdown in his own head so that he could be prepared for the hit.

Ten... nine...

During the long ride he felt like choking was a possibility, but no more. He was ready more than anything now

Eight... seven...

He clung to his sidearm. His sniper wouldn't be of use right out of the hatch, he wasn't even sure just how close to the heat they would all be. Luckily his handgun delivered a decent amount of firepower. He wouldn't be in his element in CQC, but he also wouldn't be useless.

Six... five...

He'd have to shut up and listen today. No thinking outside of the box. At this point his training was kicking in and he knew he wouldn't be able to be creative out there anyway.

Four... Three...

Tyrone was jostled by the sudden impact. His restraints weren't tight enough to keep him firmly in place, and he lurched forward into a sudden stop.

I must have been counting too slow

He wanted to blame the heat of the moment for his miscount, but marines should never blame the heat of the moment... after all in battle there's nothing outside of it. BOUNDING OVERWATCH rang through the air. He turned to see Rooster, as he called himself, transformed. Tyrone had half expected the guy to hop off the ship and try to make peace with his good vibes or something, but the guy looked, well, like a soldier. He shot up as he heard himself addressed by name. He moved out of the ship and echoed the corporal before getting into wedge formation.

Of course O'Hennessy was the first one out

Tyrone couldn't help but smirk. He was more ready for this than anything he has ever done. He turned on the HUD on his helmet and held his sidearm, still with the safety off and his finger off the trigger.

Don't take any risks until you see the enemy

[Assistant]
Selene darted through the street scape just as she had been taught during her training. She kept herself in the center of a triangle that seemed to be forming between O'Hennessey, Rooster and another soldier who's name she hadn't gotten. She was supposed to be near the head quarters unit and so far O'Hennessey was it. Once someone got hit, or they set up a defensive position she would have somewhere to work.

The city seemed alien to her, possessing neither the modern grace of Lucerne nor the pastoral idyllic quality of rural Switzerland. Many of the building were damaged, either by enemy fire or looting by the native population. A large proportion of which were hostile to her and her Marines. Somewhat belatedly she unsnapped her pistol and bought it up to the appropriate position. At least she could look like a soldier.

A series of powerful explosions rocked the streets ahead and she almost barreled into O'Hennessy's back as he stopped, making a sudden change in direction she hadn't anticipated. She gritted her teeth. Just stay near him the man had said. So far so good.

[User]
Snake stopped dead in his tracks as he watched a series of rocket-propelled mortars slam right into an already hammered building a block down the road. The explosions rocked the entire street and sent metal shrapnel and concrete paving everywhere, just short of their position. Snake shifted footing and dodged to his right just as a sedan-sized chunk of road came crashing down just ahead of him. The officer raised his fist high above his head signaling everyone to stop for the moment.

"Sorry 'bout that," the officer apologized to Selene, having realized that he almost caused a minor accident. "Best to get out of the way of something yah can't kill."

"Ok everyone," Snake began as he revved up his flamethrower with a light show of blue flames, "that up ahead was a warning shot. These Rebels are pissed scared of us marines coming in an' mopping up their dumb asses. Keep a lookout, 'cause they might actually try and hit us next time."

[Assistant]
@ClocktowerEchos@Tricheus
Captain Stirling watched as the weapons fired from the Convergence of Destiny blew apart the bridge and engines of the makeshift rebel frigate, shuddering slightly as one of their few missiles hit a deck that seemed to have been near a vital system. Stirling keyed the Comm for engineering and said "Stirling to Engineering, make sure that missile hit we took didn't damage anything vital. If it did, I want a team working on it ASAP. Stirling out." By about 10 minutes in, the rebel ship was dead in the water, unable to do anything of importance. "Good work, everybody. Helm, bring us around to a position near the rest of the UESA fleet. Alice, contact Fleet Admiral Davis, ask him which target he would like us to begin firing upon, then work with Weapons to target the vessel. I need to speak with Blackburn." He lit another cigar, took a puff, then keyed in Chief Warrant Officer Blackburn's private Comms channel. "Blackburn, I have orders. I need you to get a team to the capital building of New Portland, where the UESA forces have established command. From there you'll meet up with Warrant Officer O'Hennessey as your command squad for this mission."

---

@TheRealCrow@Warrior in the Shadows@FPR

Jason had landed on the planet in a smaller-than-average dropship the UESA used for officer transport. He was in the transport compartment with the most of the rest of the command staff, just before they got ready to land. When they touched ground, Blackburn was the first one out. He cleared the area for the rest, and led them into a building to set up Comms channels with the various squads. Jason got the message from the captain at that point "Roger that, sir. I'll contact O'Hennessey, and send him and his squad the co-ordinates for the Capitol Building. Warrant Officer Blackburn, out." He then keyed in the Comm for O'Hennessey's squad, and spoke up. "Warrant Officer O'Hennessey and Squad, this is Chief Warrant Officer Blackburn, head of the ground forces for the Convergence of Destiny. Captain Stirling has given me orders to meet with your squad at the Capitol Building, and join you as my command squad for this operation. I'm sending co-ordinates for the Capitol Building to each of you on your HUDs, and will establish further orders there. Be warned, there is enemy contact between you and the objective, looks like a fortified building. So stay safe, and I'll see you at the HQ in the Capitol Building. Blackburn Out." He keyed off the Comm, shouldered his rifle, and set out for the Capitol Building.

Most of the trip was uneventful for Blackburn, with few enemy contacts. He did manage to take out a pickup truck that had a light machine gun mounted on it, with some well placed shots to the driver and gunner. Eventually, he got the the HQ, and checked in. The rest was a rather dull wait for O'Hennessey's squad.

---

UESA Intelligence Officer Johann Weiss was aboard the Convergence of Destiny when the battle broke out. Only the Captain and a select few back at Orpheus IV knew he was there, as he was not listed in any of the crew or passenger logs, and no one had had any contact with him. He had secretly made his way to the launch bay, and boarded a ship that looked enough like a fighter to be mistaken for one. It was actually a UESA Intelligence craft, designed with the best in stealth technology. He boarded it, and took off with the rest of the fighters. He followed a dropship into the planet's atmosphere, acting like one of the guard fighters. When the dropship landed, he took off for the research center in the same part of the City as the Capitol Building. He landed where the HQ wouldn't see him, and rushed to the research building. He sneaked in, and quickly located the room he needed. He found an intact computer, already open on the exact file he came for. He set up his personal data holder, and began to transfer the file, and all data related to it. It would take a while, so he hoped to God no rebel managed to get to the building before he left.

[User]
"Captain, that last missile did a number on our starboard shields. Efficacy is down by 74%. I'd suggest using port side to take any punches from now on. Nearby teams are already on-site but it seems as if they're having trouble. I've done all I can from Engineering HQ, so I'll be heading over myself. I'll keep the bridge posted, Kathy out."
Coake

Kathy was starting to feel an odd thrill; a strange mix of adrenaline, eagerness to test herself, and to push herself harder than she's ever worked before. She quickly grabbed her personal work bag and assigned tool box, had another engineer take over her console, and quickly made her way over to the damaged section.

Upon arrival, Kathy stood and stared in shocked silence. She didn't know what wrong turn she took, but she had descended into a tiny pocket of hell. The first thing that got her was the smell. Smoke from fried electronics, burnt flesh and fear. Then the sounds of electrical discharges and human cries of pain and anguish. Everything was dark except for the intermittent glow of red warning lights. In those illuminated seconds, all she saw was a stop-motion world of black and red with panicked figures running about.

Holding up her communicator, Kathy whispered
"Sickbay, we need someone, anyone over here in Starboard Deck 11 Block 5. There are multiple injured. I.. I'm not qualified to assess how bad the situation is, but it's bad. Kathy out."

Kathy grit her teeth and forced herself to move. Grabbing some nearby engineers, they set to work.

[Assistant]
"Warrant Officer O'Hennessey and Squad, this is Chief Warrant Officer Blackburn, head of the ground forces for the Convergence of Destiny. Captain Stirling has given me orders to meet with your squad at the Capitol Building, and join you as my command squad for this operation. I'm sending co-ordinates for the Capitol Building to each of you on your HUDs, and will establish further orders there. Be warned, there is enemy contact between you and the objective, looks like a fortified building. So stay safe, and I'll see you at the HQ in the Capitol Building. Blackburn Out."

Snake watched as a GPS map appeared on his visor, every street section and crossroad being watched at every moment by some satellite in orbit. Their allotted path was highlighted in orange, a somewhat straight path through a now occupied section of urban sprawl. The occupied building in question was a police station, most likely ransacked by the Rebels of SWAT and Riot equipment and weapons.

"Ok folks," Snake began, "looks like we finally got some damn direction 'round here! Move up people, so we don't disappoint our glorious leader."

The squad passed bombed streets and decimated corpses for a few blocks, a visceral scene of civilian casualties. After a while the team came up to a parking structure a block or two down the road from the station, a perfect sniper nest. Snake was the first to enter, lighting the way with the light of his flamethrower. Flashlights never had the ambiance he craved.

The first few flights were uneventful, mostly made up of empty cars and the occasional pool of blood. As the team reached the fifth floor, the sounds of laughter echoed from above. Snake was the first to take a peak, watching as two armed Insurgents laughed over a burning car. The officer's first instinct was to light the damn bastards up like Thanksgiving turkeys, but the sounds of screaming would attract attention.

"Ok, somebody give me ah idea to work with," Snake ordered as he turned to his team.

[User]
It hung in the air for a long moment with no one speaking. Selene imported the view from Snake's visor to her own to see what was going on. Both men looked young and poorly disciplined. Dressed in ill-fitting clothing and pieces of body armor, they didn't look like the terrors her mind had conjured. Suddenly an idea occurred to her. Snake evidently saw the light go in her eyes and arched an eyebrow, barely visible through his visor.

"I think I can lure them Snake," she whispered. He nodded briskly, eager to be moving she supposed.

"Knives," she whispered to the nearby marines. They might not use actual knives of course, the power assist of the armor was more than sufficient to make an open handed blow lethal, but it gave the right impression. With a deft move she reached up and manually powered off her helmet speakers, then lifted her visor. This was no time to make mistakes. She cleared her throat and aimed her voice at the door using the acoustics of the stairwell to carry it to the insurgents.

"Go home silly you've had way too much to drink," she called in a soft feminine contralto. She embellished it with a throaty giggle. The insurgents heads came up, their grips tightening on their rifles before the gender of the speaker and the words disarmed them. Most colonies were a little behind the curve when it came to women in combat roles. The pair exchanged sly, wicked grins and started to saunter towards the stair well. It didn't look like they had murder in mind. Unlike the marines of course. She locked her visor down and took a step back to give the professionals room to work.


[System]
"Ana"

Character Summary
Species: Mirialan
Gender: Female
Age: 17
Height: 5'7
Weight: 58kg/127 lbs
Class: Padawan
Position: Still in training

Skills, Weapons and Abilities

Weapons: Zelliana's primary weapon is a double-bladed lightsaber with a white hilt and accented with chrome and bits of magenta. Inside the hilt is green kyber crystal which produces a bright green blades when the weapon is activated. Her secondary weapon is a prototype blaster pistol that she managed to get off a dead Mandalorian when she was younger, it has a high output of damage, but drains the power cell heavily as a result, making it a useful back up if she can't use her lightsaber for whatever reason, but can't be heavily relied upon.

Saber Skills: Although she's still in training to become a Jedi Shadow, she shows great promise with her lightsaber skills, her main form being Dejm So because it could be used defensively such as deflecting blaster fire, yet could also be used in lightsaber combat and the agressiveness of the form that allowed a transition from blocks and parries to overwhelming and strong counterattacks really drew it to being her preferred style. Zelliana's second form that she sometimes uses however hasn't kept up her practice with is Niman, mostly taking it because the masters encouraged her to use it, finding it was the most fitting for her path and the weapon she uses, so this form isn't as strong as her Dejm So and if she uses it, has a higher chance of losing a fight.

Force Skills:
 * Telekinesis – A basic force talent that allows her to use force push and pull.
* Force Cloak – She practices this force talent as much as possible, although since she hasn't mastered it yet, she can't keep up the duration for very long and it may sometimes abruptly end without her wanting it to.
* Force Sense – Allows her to sense the feelings of others as well as momentus events or impending danger.
* Force Stun – Force ability that allows her to temporarily deaden the senses and perceptions of her target, this ability isn't used frequently, so the duration of it can vary.
* Mind Trick – She can use the force to influence the thoughts of people, another ability she hasn't gotten the hang of yet, so it's success rate varies.

Weaknesses: One of Zelliana's biggest weakenesses is her overconfidence and arrogance when it comes to her skills, she dreams about the day that she can take the trials and become a full fledged Jedi Knight, this results in her being impatient sometimes and going ahead of whatever task or mission is at hand before any orders are given. Her force abilities are slightly weaker than her peers or other Jedi, making attacks with the force not as powerful and inflicting not as much damage, it's mainly why she relies more on physical attacks rather than attacks with the force.

Background

Born on Corellia, Zelliana remembers little of her early childhood, her planet had been attacked during the Mandalorian Wars and she had been captured, being brought back and made into a servant for the Mandalorians. She spent three years as a servant until she finally had enough and attempted an escape, using a vibroblade she had been tasked with to clean, she slashed her way through as many of them as she could, injuring them though not severely and making it all the way to the entrance of camp before a stun shot hit her and incapacitated her.

When she came to, she was surrounded by most of the clan, debating whether or not to kill her, but the clan leader saw in her a fire in her that rather than be snuffed out, could be made to work for them. She then began her long Mandalorian training, learning how to fight hand-to-hand, with blades and blasters, Mandalorian culture and customs, she took to it rather quickly and before she knew it, she was apart of the clan.

Two years passed and she was now eager to fight wither other clan members and earn glory like many of them had. Although she was much to young to start fighting with them yet, she was allowed to accompany some men on a hunt on Dxun, it would provide her with more experience for the future and would allow her to gain some glory until she was old enough to join them in battle. During the hunt, they came across a boy, slightly older than Zelliana, who escaped a nearby camp and had been hiding until he could find means to escape the jungle moon; he was given a vibroblade and was pitted up against Zelliana, promising to be allowed to leave if he could best her.

The fight between the two of them was slightly difficult for her, the boy was older and stronger than her, but thanks to her training, she managed to knock him onto his back and had her blade pointed at his throat. But when she was ordered to finish him, she couldn't find the strength to do it, even worse, she struck down one of her clansmen when he was about to shoot the boy and then fled with him on one of the ships the arrived on; disgracing herself as well as her clan, she fled the system, flying all the way to Nar Shaddaa where she hid for a few months, surviving by stealing anything she could to eat.

One day on Nar Shaddaa, she spotted a robed man who looked fairly fairly wealthy, but what really got her attention was the item he carried on his belt, it was a long cylindrical, chrome tube. The way he quickly hid it when it briefly was visible to the public eye made her think that it was highly valuable and went about pickpocketing by bumping into him.

Zelliana hastily retreated back to the hideout she had made in the slums to inspect the bounty she had collected, trying to figure out how it worked and was startled when a bright blue blade emerged from the chrome object. The man she had lifted the weapon from had quickly tracked her down, noticing instantly when his weapon went missing. He had been ready to approach and reprimand her, but then he noticed something, a power flowing through her...the force, even though she was past the age in which force sensitives could be trained, but their numbers were low and they needed all the new Jedi they could get.

When he approached her, he prevented Zelliana from fleeing again and then explained that he was a Jedi and that she had the force flowing through her, she didn't believe him at first, but through persuasion, convinced her to go with him. She arrived on Dantooine and the Jedi that found her explained to the situation to the enclave masters and even though they were hesitant to allow someone as old as she was to begin Jedi training, they couldn't deny they needed all the new members they could get. With that, she was approved and spent the next two years learning the ways of the force as well as saber forms, taking to it rather easily thanks to her Mandalorian training.

Those were the happiest two years of her life, she enjoyed being with the Order and being a Jedi, but her happiness was cut short when the Mandalorians struck Coruscant. She was in the Jedi Temple, sparring with her master when the first bombardment took place, she had been ordered to retreat whilst he defended the temple, but she ignored that order and went with him. The battle was difficult, many Jedi and Padawans that chose to stay were struck down and it was clear that they weren't going to win, reluctantly, both Zelliana and her master fled the Jedi Temple and the planet, he knew it would do them no good to stay and die.

Things didn't get any better after Coruscant, she and her master traveled from system to system, trying to remain hidden, but were always discovered, then the unthinkable for Zelliana happened, whilst fleeing for what seemed like the hundredth time, her master took a blaster bolt to his stomach and succumbed to his injury but not before telling her of a hidden enclave on Valkaina that he had recently been notified about and was sure wouldn't be discovered.

Now, a few weeks later, here she is, on Valkaina, looking to be assigned a new master and even more so, looking to take her trials and become a fully fledged knight of the Jedi Order, though she still has a ways to go, especially on her patience and being humble, she'll no doubt make and excellent Jedi Knight.

[User]
"Valdis Freyr, or sa a Mando Adann Stal" He introduced himself to Ana after she gave her name, this was followed by Maria answering her question about their mission as they headed into The Amber Dragon. As the lights came on he turned to Ana one more time before boarding the ship "I don't know if you have all of your gear together or not but if you have missed anything you needn't worry, I keep some spare things on the ship" he tipped his head toward the entryway "come on and find a seat, we can finish prep in hyperspace"

He walked in and went to the cockpit, taking the controls so they could take off. Once they had got off world, as he didn't have a droid, he had to manually prep the engine and input coordinates for the hyperspace jump himself. His attention was on the controls while he did this, leaving Maria and Ana to their own devices, he couldn't help but feel just a bit of excitement, glad to be on something other than a supply run at least. Once he was done and they were underway he leant back in his chair and looked to his passengers, giving Maria a short nod before looking to see if Ana had actually forgotten any of her kit.

@DirtyDingo

[Assistant]
Merak Shenly

---

Location: The Krayt Fang, Cargo Hold, Dantooine landing site
Interacting With: @DirtyDingo's Alessia, @Delta44's Aether, NPC Captain Craske

---

Merak blinked in surprise and glanced between Alessia, who looked perhaps a bit shocked at being told to to pipe down, and the Echani commander who seemed to be waiting expectantly for him to say something. The Mirialan pilot was at a loss, not used to having much of an authority over other people at all, (even if it was simply in someone else's viewpoint of him), rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he stammered. "Oh, uh….well thank you, Commander Craske, sir, but Alessia and Aether have most of the mission details, I'm just the errand boy!" a nervous chuckle escaped him as he flashed the two Padawans another apologetic look, inviting them to correct any errors or missing info in his explanation. "The three of us are going to retrieve as much archive data from the raided enclave as we can, but to do that we need your men on the perimeter to give us advanced warning of approaching Mandalorians so we know when our times up and we need to get out of there."
Clanker would remain with the ship to ensure that the Fang would be prepped and ready for a possible abrupt exit. "We don't want anybody getting hurt if we can help it, the goal for you is to blend in not to cause trouble for the Mandalorians though if it comes to a firefight we have to get this info out of their possession and back to Master Antilles on Valkaina. So if there's nothing I've missed that the Jedi would like to add, all I can say is do what you do best and good luck." He wasn't going to try and tell the Blitz squad how to do their job, he knew they were one of the best crews they had and had an immense level of respect for every one of them.

[User]
"Oh, well lucky them," she responded in a jokingly sarcastic tone, after they finished discussing what little they knew of the mission and the pleasantries were done with Ana boarded the ship with Valdis and Maria, she was curious of how Valdis came to be with the Jedi, most people held prejudices towards them and she imagined that even the Jedi would be reluctant to have one in their ranks, but she knew it wasn't her place to question such things.

Once they were off, Ana checked over her gear once more, everything she needed seemed to be there, at least it was one less thing to worry about, she still couldn't help but be curious about the mission they were going on, however with none of them knowing anything further, pressing for more information would be impossible. Seeing as there wasn't much to do, she set her bag to the side and then sat down on the floor of the ship, closing her eyes as she began to meditate and try and calm herself a little more, she may have been keeping a decent outward appearance, but inside, she was still feeling a whirlwind of emotions that wanted to come to the surface.

"There is no emotion, there is peace..." she whispered to herself, feeling the emotions inside beginning to settle a little.

What little peace she managed with her emotions didn't last however, once more they came swirling back and her meditation was broken, "Alright, guess that won't work, perhaps a distraction will ease my thoughts," Ana spoke to herself once more; glancing over to the cockpit, she added, "Suppose learning a little how to fly a ship could help," she then made her way over to Valdis, "Think you could teach me a little on how to fly a ship? If it's not too much trouble I mean," Ana never had much interest in piloting, but knew she would need to learn one day and unfortunately, her previous master never got the chance to teach her.


[System]
Age: 24

Race: Orc

Appearance: All over his body he has ritualistic tattoos and large scare over his chest he received when he was younger.

Equipment: Gormarr equipment consist of simple iron and leather armor. A two-handed iron battle axe along with two swords for back up weapons.

Personality: Gormarr is a brash, hard-head, and stubborn orc. With a short temper he is quick to resort to violence to solve his problem. Gormarr is a devout follower of orc tradition as well as Gorrmarok the god orcs and honorable combat. Because of this Gormarr has a strong sense of honor that guide his actions. He tends to be gregarious often proudly boosting of his feats and achievements.

History: Hailing from the harsh northern wastelands Gormarr was born into the Ironfrost clan. Under the guidance of his parents he learns the ways of his clan. At his 13th birthday he was sent out with the young orcs of the clan to kill a creature from the wastes alone. Then bring back a trophy from there hunt to the clan's shaman. While tracking a mammoth he was ambushed by a Ankhrav after an intense battle the wounded Gormarr dragged the Ankhrav corps to the shaman. He then spent the next couple of years honing his skill he heard rumors of the Infinity Bridge and the glory he could win inside the rifts. Gathering some supplies he traveled south. After a long journey to the town were the Infinity Bridge was Gormarr arriver. He made sure joined the adventures guild.

Guild Ranking: Wood

Misc: In addition to his orcish strength and endurance he along with the orcs of his clan have a strong resistance to the cold. But have a weakness to heat and fire.

Goals: Gormarr desires to gain glory and honor so he can forge himself a mighty legend.

[User]
@Rekaigan@Hammerman@ManoftheNorth@Renny@Roughdragon1@berd@Ptolemy

The howl was effective to an extreme. The moment it echoed from the lupines maw and into the ears of its intended the response was immediate. By their very nature, Skaven were cowards. Only in giant numbers with clear advantage would they ever press on any kind of advantage against a resilient foe like their ancestral enemy, the Dwarf. One bearded folk was equal to 3 skaven in terms of ferocity and guile. Had it not been for their poisons and overwhelming numbers they would surely have died out centuries ago.
Each and every last rat man screeched and shouted in their gutteral tongue as the rat pack began to flee in every direction but only ended up tangling or trampling their allies in a scurry of frenzied motion.

From the iron circle, the shields blossomed out at the sound of what they had suspected to be a rat ogre of some kind. A large dwarf with a salt and pepper beard stretching down and tucked into his belt buckle, roared the battle cry of the mountains and levied his crossbow at the threat as his wall of steel scattered like petals on the wind. Axes and swords began to swing at the rats.. and the Lycans group.
No friend could come from a beast.

"HIT EM ALL, BOYS! GLORY TO THE MOUNTAINS!"

The front line fighters charging into the fray would find their march impeded.

The large orcs axe would surely find a foe easy pickings. In their haste to flee, few skaven even acknowledged the greenskin at all. Two knew that if they did not react, death would find them. In desperation they struck with a unified spear thrust at his chest, hoping to pierce his armor and gouge his heart in one fell swoop. But fear still held their heart.

several rat men excreted a horrid stench from their fear glands, their thick musk making it hard to even breathe for someone with so sensitive a nose, as they all tried to scatter. Frenzied in fear they struck out haphazardly with their rusted swords and spears, hoping to get away before they became a meal for a stronger animal on the food chain.
The dwarf with the crossbow fired his quarrel as his warriors swarmed the other rats, aiming right for Grendricks heart. Rage burned in his eyes.

@Roughdragon1

With nowhere proper to run, the skaven flowed around Grendrick and the orc in a swarm towards the bridge. A number of the filthy creatures desperately running for their wretched lives. If something wasn't done quick to get their attention, the softly armored units behind the young man might yet be overrun.

[Assistant]
Marianne saw the effect of the roar immediately. The Skavens immediately scattered to the four winds, as fear gripped their hearts and minds. Marianne would have said they were cowards, if not for the fact that she felt fear herself from the roar. And she was standing far away from its source. Imagine what strength would it have on point blank range.

The dwarves used this opportunity to rally their strength and morale, countering back the skavens that had them on the ropes just a while ago. However, they viewed their party as enemies too, as they aimed their crossbows towards Grendrick. She just hoped the lycan could dodge their bolts and get out of there as soon as he could.

The melee fighters of the group charged forward. They attempted to intercept the skavens running across the bridge right towards her and the other support fighters. Most of the skavens would refuse to engage and just ran past them, but a pair of brave, or foolish, skavens thrusted their spears towards the orc.

Marianne knew this would be her time to act.

She willed her insects, all of her bees, towards the approaching skavens. They all eagerly swarmed out from every hole of her dress, from her sleeves, from her feet, and some even crawled out from the white underclothes that covered her chest. They flew with one purpose, to delay the movements of the skavens as much as they could.

Marianne could hear the skavens' horrified shrieks as her bees swarmed over them. They all tried to shoo them off, but their efforts were in vain, as the bees could easily dodge their swings with their superior speed. And just after one minute, and hundreds of bee stings, the skavens could feel their muscles weakening, and their heads turning dizzy. Sluggish and disoriented, they would be an easy prey for the rest of the party.

[User]
He was swept up in the throngs of war and emotion. His heart pounded in his ears, his hands were moist with sweat. In front of him, moving in such a slow state that it could only have been produced by his irrational mind, was Gendrick and the others. Behind him, was those that could not fight in close quarters. Inwardly he wondered who he should protect.

Everyone, was his gentle response.

But he knew that wasn't the priority. Trying to save everyone would lead to mistakes. His mistakes could lead to everyone's death. The decisions were back-breaking, if he was to survive, he needed to silence it all. So he focused on one thing; not letting any rats pass him.

Nove's gaze went dark, a dull copper in spite of his once-lively bronze. His longsword was held at the ready as fleeing skavens started towards him. He raised his buckler in his other arm, prepared to guard if one or more had decided to strike at him.

They rushed by and every time one came close to passing him, he engaged with above-average speed and strength. With every blow he struck, Nove would yell his victory beforehand. A battle-cry of sorts that echoed in his throat.

[Assistant]
As the howl died down, the effects of it became apparent. The ratmen started fleeing the battlefield, all of them scrambling for the bridge. Fariha smirked, as she released her arrow. The arrow whistled through the air before slamming into the heart of a distressed Skaven. The projectile's momentum countering the forward movement of the rat's body, causing it to just flop lifelessly on the spot. The problem with most of the ratkin's movements was that it was awfully erratic. Their nimble feet carried them left and right as they ran in fear of the large beast that howled.

Fariha had disconnected herself from her group for the most part, but support was still around. Marianne's insects were slowing down the Skaven whilst Nove cut them down as they came passed him. Some of the ratkin had reached her position on the bridge, but instead of fleeing in fear, they brandished their weapons, striking out at the elf. While most archers would pull out their knife for a close quarters engagement, Fariha was confident in her agility. The wood elf jumped over a spear thrust before planting her feet into the Skaven's face, pushing off of it like a platform. She somersaulted in the air, pulling another arrow from her hip quiver. Thrum. THWACK! In one swift movement, she had nocked and fired the arrow into the throat of one of the Skaven.

Another ratkin struck out at her with his crude sword, leaping forward with an exaggerated overhead swing. Fariha sidestepped the sloppy attack, grabbing the rat by the arm before pulling him forward to put him further off balance. Her other hand unsheathed her hunting dagger in an icepick grip. In an instant she stepped forward, stabbing the beast clean through the back of the neck. She pivoted sideways, pushing the body away with a kick to the waist as blood poured out of the stab wound. Fariha clicked her tongue in disgust as some of the blood splattered onto her boot.

[User]
Sylvia assessed the situation.

The Skaven swarmed the group, rushing past Grendrick and into the rest of them. For some reason, those dwarves were shooting at him with their crossbows. Idiots.

That orc was demolishing the Skaven that it could catch with his axe, blood and parts flying all around.

The Skaven were rushing towards the back, trying to escape the massacre. Marianne was swarming the rat-men with her insects, distracting and stinging them. Faria was dispatching Skaven to her right with her bow and arrow.

Given the current chaos, it was the perfect situation for someone like Sylvia. She recited an incantation which made her nearly translucent, allowing her to blend in with the nearby environment. She stalked forwards into the fray of the panicked Skaven, and as one of them raised their weapon to attack her, she quickly thrust her dagger through its hairy throat and twisted, killing the rat with relative ease.

Another one came from her left, rusty sword raised over its head. She yanked her dagger out, and sliced the rat's sword arm, through its shoulder. The Skaven's arm fell limp to its side, and Sylvia followed up by jabbing her dagger through its eye and kicking it to the ground, dead.

Thankfully, the Skaven were sloppy fighters, who didn't care about technique nor finesse. Really, they seemed to utilize pure savagery, making them predictable.

She noticed another one sneaking up behind Nove, who was distracted by the Skaven in front of him. She ran forwards and grabbed the thing by its scruff, dragging it back. The Skaven wrenched out of her grip, turning to face her. It had two nasty-looking knives in its hands, both rusted and dripping with Dwarven blood.

Sylvia and the Skaven circled around, waiting for the other to make a move. These sorts of situations were dangerous, especially for her. Her chainmail wouldn't protect much if she was stabbed, a drawback of the armor's design. The Skaven licked its black lips, snarling. Rows of rotten teeth showed through its snout. Evidently, this one was more of a fighter than the others.

[Assistant]
The tip of Ayse staff crackled, sparked, and glowed. With the Skaven bearing down on them there was little reason to hold the flames in anymore. The tip of her staff popped in a whirl of ash and cinders as a bolt of fire raced out towards the din and the one unlucky target she'd picked out. It was hard to do much more.

If she tried a stream of flame then she'd probably end up roasting most of Marianne's bugs. Too aggressive with her bolts? She might catch any one of their fighters with magic intended for another. Sylvia's near invisibility was just an excuse for friendly fire. She wanted to help the dwarves, but without a plan and without a way to show they weren't the enemy she was starting to regret it. Though, as she sent a another bolt out, she'd have more regrets in a moment.

One Skaven slipped through and drew close. Skaven may have been sloppy and craven, but they were also fantastic opportunity hunters. A distracted target like Ayse might as well put on a light-show set out signs. Racing towards her, with a hissing, gurgling, cry it clamped down on her arm with rotten teeth. The force of the blow and the shock of pain sent both tumbling to the ground. Still hanging on with its mouth the beastfolk fished out a dagger and prepared to deal a more fatal blow.

Then the air around the both of them exploded. The Skaven backpedaled wildly, its face replaced by the blackened bone of its skull, over and off the side of the bridge. Ayse struggled up, groaning, as blood slipped from the gnawed flesh of her arm. It was clear that she couldn't be as careful anymore. With the pain also fueling her flame she lashed out again, and again, and again...

[User]
Gormarr finished his warcry before he launches himself into the retreating skaven. Once among the rats the butcher work begins. The orc began to swing each of his ax strike were simple and direct. Every blow is made to kill or main skaven as he charges through pack of running rat people. The two skaven vainly attempting to impale the orc only succeed in driving Gormarr bloodlust even higher.

Smacking the first skaven with the blunt side of his ax to a sicken cracking sounded as the first fell over its head at an unnatural angle. The second was not as luck as a large hand wrapped around its head. Lifting the skaven up in the air Gormarr started to squeeze the rats head. The skaven flailed trying to desperately escape the orcs iron grip tighten greatly. "WAAAGH!" With his bloodlust running on high the orc let loose a mighty warcry as he crushed the skaven's skull.