[System]
Alfieq's Army (7th Generation) - Purplish Blue.

Nation Flag, anthem (Optional)

-Map Location

-Description (think economy, history etc.) (Optional)
As countless of an old legends within the world goes, Alfieq's Army is a militarist-dictatorship faction that are empowering in one of the most powerful land military in The World of Nations, feared by their infamous 'every citizen are capable soldiers' policy and holds one of the highest material productions in a effort to build up in their numbers of ready-made arsenals of war.

Recently broke out from their long lasting civil war against the nobility of the Veilletes monarchists after a long post-negation with the major population of the Militarian against their tolerance of slaves/subjugated populace foreigners, seizing their jobs in the process that causes the riot in the first place, and thus marked the end of the Militarian-Veilletes Golden Age of rapid expansion and their leading power of sophisticated innovations that are now replaced by the new age of unfortunate darkness, but found an opportunity feat to become one of the prominent military and influential powerhouse within The World of Nations era by the time they have recovered from the civil war.

Government
The Constitutional Monarchy was gone by the time a Militarian civil war has succeeded in overthrown their emperor and the rest of their elective leaders of the parliament, all consolidated to a single person whom controls basically almost anything within his/her power in order to maintain order of his/her faction. However, in order to become the next leader of the nation of grudging army men, he or she needed to obtain the highest military rank than all other officers of the command, and also required to be picked by the leader himself/herself in order to legitimate his/her position as the next-in-line leader of the army. The title of becoming the leader of their army is called the Commander. Below him/her was sub-commanders and also can be called as high commands, then below those ranks are officers, and lastly below officers are regular soldiers.

-Other
Build more tanks.

[User]
Auclairé
Deparmon fo Liber, Villa Libero

 "Citizens of the Assembly, it has come down to me to inform the noble national court of the citizens of a profound transgressions against not only the state itself, but of the law of man and of nation." the speaker said, standing atop the dias. Dressed in fine clothes his delicately polished shoes shone in the warm electrical light of the hundred of bulbs over-head, suspended by silver chandeliers and from the large glass dome at the middle of the room. Had all lights been off, the soft light of the afternoon sun would have shone down on him, cutting through the pipe smoke of the Reprosentiff fo Nacionalie there today. It was a packed chamber, and the men leaned forward to hear the man speak.

 The speaker, a tall dark-skinned gentlemen struck a striking image. Broad shouldered, a defined face. His eyes shone bright. His head crowned with wiry black hair.

 "Off the Black Coast, from our national exclaves of Sain Sumogne and Bastiôn the trade vessel Sôme Pierre went dark over the maritime radio check ins. Reported leaving the port of Simerov with a full cargo of raw material for refinement and use of the Company Josephine Metalworks. A cargo weight of two-hundred fifteen tonnes the material wealth aboard the ship was estimated to be at over twenty-million libre."

 There was shocked murmuring from the assembly who gasped and guffawed. Over the rioting expressions the click of cameras nearby could be heard as the journalists at the speaker's feet hurriedly made moves to capture his doubtlessly pained expression. He rose a thick sun-kissed hand to the breast pocket of his deep violet velvet vest and hung it there by his thumb. The rolls of the sleeves of his white cotton undershirt turned and waved as he moved. Turning on his feet as he paced and look about him. "This represents the greatest material loss our country has faced in piracy alone!" he declared.

 "If this was in Donsiclious waters, what was the answer by the government in Sirir?" a representative asked

 "I have spoken at length with the ministers." the speaker said, "And we have concluded that the best course of action is to take a direct approach. This is the third such action, as I'm sure we all remember. But this is the largest such theft of a ship and thus far, through our normal channels the government of Donsiclia has thus far been incapable of acting on our pressure to curb the endemic of piracy off their waters. On the consent of the Assembly, I ask that economic measures be taken against our neighbor to our south be reprimanded, the financial assets of their leaders frozen until they are willing to take the matter seriously! And that, if necessary, the Assembly takes moves to consider, as a warning against Donsiclia the matter of direct military intervention in its ports to identify and capture the pirate bodies who have so long threatened our southern Departments."

 This a shocked murmuring among the assembly. Defiant shouts. "President Jean-Luc, you can not be serious to come before the National Assembly, so devoted to peace, and make requests for war."

 "It is not war I demand," president Jean-Luc decreed, "But a threat of which I am requesting to bring results. Coupled with the freezing of their personal assets in our national banks!"

 "Then what responses will your office make while we consider your recommendations?" a representative called out.

 "We are already moving to act ourselves." Jean-Luc answered, "The foreign office has been given orders to make direct appeals to the government in Sirir to provide information deemed helpful in tracking the course of, or to keep watch for strange activity within their borders. We have likewise given orders to prepare a ship at the port of Camuleis to hunt the pirates, recover the ship and her sailors. It is of my opinion, and of my ministers that the unchecked negligence of the new southern government in Donsiclia be brought to recognize its own follies. The Minister of Justice, Pierre Duran is willing to see the pirates – when captured – tried in Auclairé as criminals against our people and our laws, and not as before in Donsiclious courts."

 There was subdued discussion among the representatives. Jean-Luc Henrie stood patiently, like a stoic in the middle of the room. The Assembly chambers, an ancient room in an ancient building murmured like a temple. The representatives speaking like monks chanting. Surrounding him on near all sides the seats of the assembled representatives rose upwards in banks. The columned walls rose to support a gallery, and behind the medieval ramparts atop those a light gaggle of onlookers looked down, women waved fans and men leaned over looking down. Higher up the ancient statues of the old kings looked down, though their faces had been wrecked over two-hundred years ago in the Revolution, now behind chain-mail coifs they were faceless wraiths in their tunics. In this hall centuries before then the barons and oligarchy of the kingdoms of the nation met in assembly, and was now occupied by the people.

 The chamber was hardly austere or as gray as an old castle's walls. Great colorful banners hunt from the ceiling between the many chandeliers overhead. And between the statues of the ancient kings paintings of the Revolution and the intermediary years had been hung. The stone work too was in places carefully carved and painted in earthly bands of red and yellow strips, interlaced, the pattern was repeated across the columns and they were like maypoles with the ribbons tied tight against them.

 From behind the stage the president stood, the speaker of the Assembly rose in his canopied tent. "Than you, and the grace of wisdom on you, our president." he said, "I declare the Assembly in motion to consider the crisis set before us by the Executive Office." Jean-Luc Henrie smiled and turned out the door as the speaker continued to speak, "Per immediate concern on the issue the Ministry of Security recommends in light of the recent attacks a proposal of its own related to the current crisis. That in accompaniment with our southern traffic emergency allocation to the Department of the Navy be made for the funding of escort to and from the Deparmons fo Sain Sumogne and Bastiôn..." the door to the Assembly chamber closed behind the president as he left the hall. Around the corner his secretary met with him.

 "An appropriate speech, but I think it could have been better." the stout man said, jogging up to meet with the president. He was a mulato man, his light coffee skin and thick wiry hair contrasting, as his narrow nose and wide face. It was not far from Jean-Luc, whose nose was likewise long and narrow.

 "Well, what can you do." Jean-Luc said, "I suppose next the media will need some words."

 "I've already gotten a few requests. If you would like I will schedule a special media event in the Palais Executif later this afternoon."

 "You might as well. Has the ambassador from Donsiclia returned our requests?"

 "No, he hasn't." the assistant said, "He says his government back home has not sent him new orders."

 "Then we keep waiting. Let's go then."

Portei fo Libero

 Atop the control tower for the vast port of the capitol, the port authority radio operators sat looking out at the vast network of piers and canals, directing the ship traffic to and from. The great iron lattice work of cranes hummed and sang with the sound of motors as the large freighters to the capitol city were being unloaded. Below trucks and train carts assembled or moved every which way in a sense of controlled chaos as freight was being moved in and out. Often times, the traffic headed into the port was passing through, sailing up the Rouje to the ports further up, where at the point where the river becomes too shallow and begins to narrow deep-water boats could not pass. There the freight would be transferred to river freight, and would deliver their goods deep inland. Often these same ships would come back, all the way into the Portei fo Libero to unload crates of wine or other commodities for shipment over seas, their broad decks navigating the coal-dark waters of the river mouth as it mixed with the azure blue sea further out.

 From the windows of the control office, further inland the capitol city brooded over the vast industrial complex of the sea port on its ascending hills. The city stretched out to sea along the Cape Emaîs, which enclosed the harbor from the open sea. The ivory white, soft blues, spring greens, and the multitude of colors of the homes there on the forested hills of the Emaîs showing bright along brick streets and promenades up to the chivalric lighthouse of Sant Crispi, its red-brick construction like a castle bastion set isolated from any fortification, but fortified once to guard the mouth of the harbor as well as guide vessels in.

 Likewise dominating the hilly skyline in-land, at the edge of the broad windows of the wood-paneled control room the ascending waves of the iron tower of Màndùi Filisoph rose clear into the blue sky.

 It was also not just commercial vessels that scoured the great harbor. The white specks of private boats at the tip of long hair-thin wakes wound through the water, heading into the mouth of the harbor to enter into open sea also passed, as the larger gray shapes of coast guard posts slowly patrolled through. Close to shore wooden paddle boats remained, old men casting rods into the water to fish in the warm equatorial sun. Just behind them, the docks and lower terraces of the sea walls provided a platform for swimmers to rest on, just beyond the confines of the seaport itself.

 "We are the merchant-warships of the Yathon Corporation," a radio message came in, through the headset of one of the port directors, "We request an opportunity to dock. We wish to establish trading relationships."

 The radio man cocked a brow at the request. He looked aside at his desk neighbor and said, "I don't suppose we handle international relations?" he asked.

 She looked aside at him, confused. The clear expression on her face spoke for what the answer was. Of course not.

 The operator looked up through the window at the sea port outside, searching for an open pier. The numbered cranes indicating the individual piers. He cross-referenced them quickly over his computer, and relayed a message out to the foreign ship, "Yathon Corporation ship, you are clear to dock at pier seventeen. Please prepare your manifest papers and to receive shipyard inspectors. You will receive instruction from a shipyard officer on where to proceed next." he said clearly into his microphone, "Tugboats will come to assist you."

[Assistant]
The soldiers grin to eachother. "I will inform those who are at a...certain location of a suitable location." the leader states. The others wait around.

The leader runs off to go inform his various superiors and those of equal rank about such an area. Such a place, is called Muriva city, there is a port nearby aswell. The superiors give the orders for a large military presence to be stationed there and to be ready for battle. The leader of those soldiers is dismissed.

A bird is dispatched, giving the location of such a harbor. Once the ferries are there, the Yahupi are in waiting. A few of the leaders wait for things to be unloaded perhaps. They are ready for this plan.

_

Meanwhile, in the Federation the 2nd Commander watches as these things are unloaded. The Federation's people there take note of who the people unloading these things look like. The 2nd Commander walks up and introduces herself to these people, extending a hand of friendship to them.

She asks how these Firearms are operated, and she asks what the Federation can offer in return. Gold or silver coins perhaps. She has dark blue eyes, somewhat of a tall stature, with a purple and white uniform, a lightish brown color to it. Her hair is done in a bun shape. She looks young, but not too young.

[User]
One of the Conscriptors step forward and explaining their intended role in response.

"Actually no sir, we're doing on a part time job working at the Erksterm docks just to earn an extra living. Our main duty is to find and to recruit freshly new volunteers, and then pressed them into our military, hence the reason why we're named the Conscriptors, derived from an actual word called the conscription."

The Conscriptor pull out his notepad and to do his own list.

"If you really want to find someone whom in charge of the docks, you can go and visit at the Erksterm Port Authority Center near at the Master Harbour Bay, two points at the right from the Brescal Avenue. However, if you want to consent a foreign relations with the Republic, you can go to the Ministry of Foreign Relations & Intervention at the capital of Veilletes Republic and give your reasoning and appointment of your stances."

He'll then check marked the stuffs that he was previously completed his job at the Erksterm Harbour.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The AA armed dockworkers are beginning to haul those field guns from the ship of Yathon and delivers to a firing range for testing its equipment. The relation officer of AA was awaiting for someone to represent as the ambassador of Yathon Corp and then told to meeting them at the Port Authority for discussion with trades and the relations of AA.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Veilletes Republic exploration fleet have set its sail to the coast of a newly founded coastal land. They have started to claim those well-positioned territories as their first footstep to colonize the rest of the southern territories, which is unfortunately a highly risked decision as those newly founded territories are dangerously close to a nation of an ambiguous, overly-strict, police state as the Veilletes were likely to call them all the time because mostly their merchants and explorers were 'magically' reported missing ever since when attempting to cross beyond those foreign conflict of ocean-lake territories.


[System]
Gender: Male

Age/Birthdate: 48 (3rd of March, 433 AL)

Appearance/Description:

Background/Personality:

A veteran who served in King Alphin's Royal Military Service, knighted for his dedication in serving to the whims of the crown. He was moved to a rural area near the mountains where he could spend the rest of his service in relative harmony with the local lord, Stefan. He wasn't too fond of the man, often seeing him as a man who was full of himself. It became worse when news of King Alphin's death had reached the manor and Stefan had begun scheming in order to claim the throne for himself. There wasn't much that a veteran could do in this instant, especially with a boot licking dog who is Ganford-- Captain of the Mansion's Guardsmen.

There came a day where bandits had raided the manor and Yaun came to the aid of the innocent people who were either slaughtered or robbed from their riches. Ganford didn't send help. The guards whos duty was to keep the peace at the town was killed and Yaun was forced to hikd the bandits on his own where he found himself cornered. The result of this encounter was a severed arm and a shameful retreat back to the barracks in order to have his wounds treated. Only then did Ganford sent reinforcements.

He attempted to claim comoensation for his disability which was rudely dishonoured by Stefan. Embittered and resentful, he continued to pursue this comoensation until he awaits a day where he could turn his back on the Lord and serve a new master.

Class: Sword Knight

[User]
As soon as the boy bolted past the guards, making them sufficiently distracted, Emara was on the move. She jumped from the tree to the wall of the manor, crouching there for a moment before dropping to the ground. She wanted to stay high, nobody ever looked up after all, but she had to go low to get inside the door. The hooded thief ran to the door and kept going, footsteps almost completely silent. From there, the decorations covering the wall were an easy way up to a thief's best friend, the support beams. Fancy houses like this needed them due to the way they were built, unintentionally making them easy targets for anybody with any skill in the art of thieving.

The sure footed girl moved quickly across the top staying behind the boy, close enough that if things went south, she could use a surprise attack. Her left hand stayed on the hilt of the dagger she wore at her hip. She knew that she had to save the girl, but at the same time, something told her that they were both important and she shouldn't let the boy die either. It would be easy to do though, she had relations to this boy, leaving him here to die while she went to rescue Katherine wouldn't bother her in the slightest. But she just had this weird feeling that they both needed to stay alive.

[Assistant]
Felix noticed the leader and swallowed his spittle. The captain seemed like trouble, and it was not a confrontation he wanted to happen. He moved through several hallways he recognized, hoping to continue to obscure his actual objective. He tried his best not to duck into any unfamiliar territory, not wanting to let himself become cornered. As he ran, he used his scabbard to knock over anything he could, in order to slow his pursuers. Eventually he got to a point where he knew he'd need to double back. Hopefully he'd caused enough ruckus to get some of the guard over to Stefan.

Now was time to move. He looked around for the rogue, who'd been suspiciously out of sight during most of his antics. Left, right, and up, he looked everywhere but behind him as he started moving for Katherine's room, hoping that the path from here would be smooth sailing.

[User]
The pursuit is ongoing with approximately eight guards running after the warrior. By happenstance... Ganford is patrolling thw current warrior's route and easily heard the commotion in front of him, with firm suspicion and annoyance smearing his demeanour. After a moment's pass, he sees the boy running and toppling over objects and things causing hindrance to the guard's chase with an exceeding amount of noise.

Ganford allowed the boy to pass and halted one of the pursuing soldiers from the group by addressing his name, stern and vindictive. "Stop, Jairus! Report!" The soldier halted his advance and frantically reported to the Captain.

"Its that messenger boy, Captain. Roderic said the boy aims to kill Lord Stefan! Roderic and the others tried to catch him to no avail!" Ganford was disturbed by the fact that they were so... Stupid.

"Tell me something Jairus." The man leered.

"S-sir?"

"How do you plot a murder?"

"Umm, sir, secretly, of course. Wouldn't want the water pot to spill."

"Correct. Therefore... What do you deduce from a boy who claims that he will kill Lord Stefan?" There was a mokment of pause.

"That we need to stop him from getting to Lord Stefan?"

The guard captain shook his head, a palm over his face.

"Station four guardsmen by Lord Stefan. Make sure to check over walls and anything above your heads. That boy is a mere distraction. Go. Now!"

"Yessir!"

The guard immediately ran to comolete his objective. Ganford immediately observed the ceiling above the corridor, suspicious of a possible second man involved in this ruckus. He adjusted his tunic and began his search.

As Felix ran past the room assigned to Kathy, guarded by three guardsmen protecting the two doors by the main entrance, two of them attempted to rush in front of Felix and grab him from the front. If they fail, one would give chase to Felix.

<Yaun is not making an appearance yet.>

<I suggest: Kathy to trick the guards into coming into the room and for the thief to help Kathy with her escape.>

[Assistant]
Katherine had been sitting there in the chair for quite some time considering her options before she heard the loud rumbling of her stomach... When had she ate last? Last night? She remembered only having a snack this morning. And even though Stefan had invited her to a feast, she'd never gotten to eat anything since he promptly literally threw her back in her room and locked her up again.

She stood up and walked over to the door, before knocking on it softly, she waited a moment to see if they'd open the door. "Hello? Um, excuse me ...would it be possible to have some food brought to me, please? I...wasn't really able to eat much earlier. Perhaps warm it up for me a little, if it's not too much trouble? I'd really appreciate it!" she said with a smile, even with the door still closed, and trying to sound sweet and demure.

She probably should eat anyway even if she didn't really feel like it, she'd need her strength. And if they declined at least she'd know a little more about her situation.

[User]
Felix continued to run, still trying his best to obfuscate his true objective. The only problem, though, was that he'd finally made it. He didn't have a choice but to stop now. It was time to start phase two. The young man looked at the guard who'd moved to block him. A smart move, if Felix had been planning to juke and get out of the way.

That was not his intent. Felix pushed further forward, turning his body to slam the guard with a shoulder tackle, attempting to strike him clean in the chest, high enough to knock the man wheezing, with any luck, taking him out so the young swordsman could face his two compatriots. Felix drew his sword as soon as he had a moment, turning about to face off with the other two. "Listen up! If you two bastards want to live, better to turn and run now! Go back to your families and forget about this fight!" He said, pointing the tip of his sword at the neck of the closer man.

[Assistant]
Emara continued to move, keeping slightly behind the boy as he caused all sorts of loud havoc. Her wait to do her part wasn't much longer, as he came up to a door that was heavily guarded and promptly got the attention of all three men. With a grin, the thief easily leaped down from the beam, landing in a crouch in front of the door. From a pouch at her lower back, she retrieved her tools. Taking out two lock picks, she stuck one in her teeth, and with the other, got to work.

Emara liked to make lock picking a little game. She would count the seconds in her head to see how quickly she could take care of them. A lock like this was easy, meant to keep someone in rather than out. It only took to the count of seven. The picks went back into her tool kit, and the kit was returned to her pouch. She opened the door and slipped inside, closing it most of the way as she went.

For the first time, she was met face to face with the pretty lady she had only seen from above. For a moment, the thief forgot what words were and simply stared, mouth open but no sound coming out. Remembering the task at hand, Emara quickly shook her head and found her voice. "No time to explain! I'm here with that commoner boy to get you out of here. Come with me, pretty lady!" Hints of red tinged Emara's cheeks and she very glad that her hood kept most of her face hidden in shadow.

[User]
Katherine gasped as she heard some odd noises from the door and it opened in front of her and someone slipped inside. The girl seemed awestruck as she looked at Kathy. Even though her face was hidden by a cowl, she could make out silver hair, and a bit of the light from her room showed the theif's face. She smiled at her, and spoke quietly, as the girl seemed to want stealth, "Well, hello....am I so breathtaking? It must be the dress...." the girl reminded her a bit of the bandit leader. She nodded to the girl that she'd follow, "You don't have to ask me twice, trust me. And you mean Felix? Is he here already? How did he know to come back?" she asked.

There was no way he had made it all the way to headquarters and then back here so someone must've caught him before he'd gone too far. It was safe to assume it was this girl's doing. But how did she know about Kathy's predicament?

[Assistant]
"You'd have to do better than that to not get skewered two sides up." The guard gripped onto his spear firmly as he carefully directed its point to Felix.

"The way I see it, you'll land a graze on poor ol' sod and you end up with your guts on this stick. Surrender. You're utterly outnumbered."

The commotion continued to gather attention. An elderly gentleman whom had quietly sidestepped the guards quickly made his way towards the room in which Kathy had been held imprisoned. He noticed that the door had been left opened and gently allowed it to open with a push of his palm. As soon as he caught sight of the two persons inside, he signalled them to hush and keep themselves down. "Do as I say; follow me. This is not the time yet for questions." He had hoped that Kathy would recognise his attire.

[User]
It looked like Katherine was agreeing to follow. That was good, at least she didn't have to waste time explaining things now. Emara could tell her how she found out when they were all safe. For the moment she needed to focus on how she was getting Katherine out of here. She was pretty sure Katherine couldn't take the thieves' route. There wasn't much cover in these halls otherwise. If they were spotted, it was going to be a fight. Emara really hoped it didn't come to that.

Emara's well trained ears picked up the sound of the door behind her opening. Immediately she turned around, putting herself between the pretty lady and the door. She slid her dagger soundlessly out of it's well oiled sheath. Though her eyes couldn't really be seen because of the hood, she narrowed them anyway. His words were hollow, there was no way that he was with them. The commoner boy, Felix, hadn't mentioned any other allies. This man wasn't with them, he was going to kill them. Well, at least Emara.

The thief started assessing the threat, scanning him for any visible weaknesses or gaps in his armor. It was something she had become very good at, she had to be. She fought fully armored men with daggers, any edge she could get was helpful. The weakness was easy to find, the man only had one arm. But not in the way that most people would think. She had known people missing arms growing up with a group of bandits. When they sparred the other men under her father, they grew used to people attacking their weak side. They got very good at defending it. This man would find himself very surprised when the small, dagger wielding, intruder went for his good side.

[Assistant]
Felix took a bare moment to notice the soldier wearing the house crest talking to them. He had to make a gut decision. He couldn't spend too much time on the cannon fodder, as it were. That said, the moment of hesitation did not do well for the young man. He flipped up his sword to parry the blow, but too slow. He managed to avoid a direct hit, but the tip of the lance shaved through the slightly more ceremonial armor that he'd changed into earlier in the day, leaving a rather deep gash across his side. Were it any higher, it would likely have hit his diaphragm, leaving him unable to breathe, any deeper, would have likely given an unwelcome freedom to his entrails.

"Tch... Whatever..." Felix winced, taking what he could out of it. He moved into the blow, not allowing the soldier to recover. Were it a bandit, he wouldn't see much issue with taking the man's head off. Instead, he swung up the flat of his sword, hammering the side of the guard's head. 'Sorry, guy, but play time's over, he thought, spinning about and hoping the older guard wouldn't attempt to take him out from behind. "Outnumbered? Don't make me laugh. Now then, I'll say again, run or see yourself dead like your friend here's about to be." He said, trying to sound as calm and collected as possible, pointing his scabbard at the downed man's neck, his blade at the still standing soldier. "I can take these exchanged a lot better than you lot, who've been living in here with thumbs up yer arses. I've been fighting for years. You've been sitting in this palace. You're older, but who do you think has the edge of experience?"

[User]
The vigorous blow from Felix's flat-edge sword blow was enough to sent the guard down onto the floor with a concussion. The guard twirled, the moonlight glistening around his eyes as he sees his fragile consciousness slowly slipping into a deep abyss and his body, a limp and awkwardly sprawled puppet laid bare onto the floor with a tin-like clanging.

The other guard-- shocked to have seen the boy's martial prowess locked his hands tightly onto his spear and allowed a charging cry as he drove the tip forward. "RRAAAARRRGGHHH!"

The elderly man inside of the building could hear the scream of the soldier beside the room. He gestured the two persons inside to hurry.


[System]
Gender:Female

Appearance:

Goals: Bella was studying to be a History Professor with a focus on classical civilizations to the medieval era. In this other world of scattered people… Maybe she can see if she can make a Roman Empire that doesn't fall.

Past Life: Bella grew up the daughter of a politician and a History Professor. Her mother is an accountant turned politician and her father is a long time History Professor. Since she was young, her father introduced her to the History of Rome and taught her all about it. By the time she was out of compulsory schooling, she was about as knowledgeable on everything during the reign of Rome as her father and had a working knowledge of the Latin language. If anyone had a question about it, she could answer easily.

She went to college as a history major with a minor in political science. And the political science minor was only because her mother took up a career as a rather successful politician. Through her time in college, she assisted her mother's campaign as well as study history. Every now and then, she would go and look into other politicians and get interviews when she could.

In the end, her life ended as someone stabbed her from behind. Likely from asking the wrong individual the wrong question about the wrong person.

Abilities:

Physical Conditioning: Peak human
Your body is naturally tough, durable, and strong. The pinnacle of human physical strength, endurance, and agility. Keep training, and surely you can surpass even stronger beings.

Soul Flare: The ability to turn ones soul into a weapon itself. Needed for most basic magical feats. Channel the mana present in the air through your body to achieve great feats. Allows one to interact with supernatural things, and perceive things others may not.

Ability Gained: Goddess' Eye
 The Goddess has given you a prestigious blessing. The eye will allow you to see things about a single living target in your vision that others can not. Status, general health, current disposition, abilities, special and other such information. Use it wisely, and you could use words as effective as any weapon or use it to disable someone with as little conflict as possible. Additionally, you can see things that are unable to be seen, and interact with it, and they you. Spirits, ghosts, and other such beings and things of that nature. However - things with special protections, such as beings with a divine connection, and skills will obscure your vision. It does not reveal things that are hidden through mundane means.
Trivia:

-Bella played a lot of Total War: Rome II to try and put old Roman strategies to practice.

-Bella can speak Italian, Latin and English

Inventory:
-Padded Armor
-Rapier

Learned Skills:

-Cleansing Fire - Fire, is not always destruction. It is also life, energy. It invigorates and brings warmth to all. Were fire never to exist, humanity may have never made it through the ice ages, for without its warmth they would fall victim to the frigid cold that envelops this land. Though fire can burn wildly, furiously, and destroy all, yours can also heal and bring comfort to those. By focusing positive energies into your fire, you may heal and cleanse small wounds.

-Mana Redirect - A skill allowing one to redirect magical energy tossed at them from any supernatural source. Rather than absorbing and meshing it with your own, you redirect it to some other purpose, thus weakening its effects upon you as you turn it towards something else. Generally, this will work with everything but some sources of energy would be far too strong to completely deflect, and some are easier to work with then others.

-Flora Command (lesser) - You're able to command the natural world around you, to an extent. Though, as it comes from domination rather than understanding and mutual understanding, it is not out of mutual respect or because they desire it. Rather - they do not wish to incur your wrath, so they cooperate.

You can't perform complex actions or move them very quickly yet, and flora with more vitality may still ignore you outright as of now.

[User]
Given the situation that she had found herself in, Misaki could only give a curt nod of agreement in response towards the newcomer following Nobunaga's own suggestion. With most of her focus placed upon the odd birds that were staring them down, the foxgirl found it difficult to give any sort of thought to further conversation not related to them.

Before she could follow upon the warlord's earlier call to leave, though, the sudden blaring noise that came out of the bird's mouth brought Misaki to her knees, the deafening noise wholly unbearable to her. Covering her ears as her face contorted in pain, the foxgirl could only barely force herself to look at the source so as to not be left unaware, only for another cry to assault her head-on. From what little she had seen in the interim, Nobunaga was already moving to strike them down, but as she was now...

Well, it was hard enough just making sure that they weren't going for her prone self at the moment.

@Crimson Paladin@VitaVitaAR

[Assistant]
The Journey Begins

~ Unknown Location ~

Interacted with: @ERode, @Pyromania99

"Alright, let's get out of here." Nick still had that anxious feeling. He cannot wait to get out of this place.

They reunited outside of the cells and proceeded further into this strange, prison-like facility. A long, barely-lit corridor made of black stone stretched before them. Along the walls were cells similar to where they first awoke, all of them having iron bars in various states of disrepair. Some of them were still there, some were broken and littered all over the floor. One thing that Nick noticed though, this place was old. Probably not used anymore and probably no one in here, right?

Nick doubted that, considering he was still feeling anxious about this place. "Isidore and Augusta, right?" He started as they made their way into the corridor. "I'm Nick. Nicholas Gallagher. Just an average dude who got on the wrong train at the wrong time." He briefly introduced himself. "A pleasure to meet you."

Soon they heard a low gurgling in the corridor. Nick immediately hugged the wall in defensive reflex. He heard footsteps and metal being dragged across the stone floor. The source then came into view. It was an ugly thing: A pale, misshapen humanoid with sunken eyes and holes for ears. Its limbs were long and thin, it was a mystery how it supported the body. Nick could scarcely believe his eyes. It was a monster, and the completely horrifying kind. The worst part was that it had a weapon in its disfigured hand.

It appeared it has not noticed them yet and Nick hand signalled the other two to lower themselves to a crouch. "Looks like Mrs. Applebottom from high school." Nick could not help but whisper a joke to cope. "We should probably sneak past it. Buuut, we can also try to gang up on it. Although, we don't know what it can do with that sword."

"What do you guys think?" Nick looked to Augusta and Isidore. Looking at the gorgeous Augusta, he could not help but notice some things about her. "Are you an Elf?"

[User]
Alice Sicilly : Seeking Descent

---

Interactions

---

Her eyes had poured over the pages as she took in what was written, making note of the map and the three areas she had to visit. The moutainfolk were obviously within a mountainous region, scaling it may be difficult. She had a naught but her map when it came for travelling the regions. SHe may stumble upon a means but for now she'd put that option away, She didn't need to deal with potential frostbite on her new wings. Heading down south may be better, longer trek to be sure but 'Maids' made her think of a well made civilisation. The Death Bringer part didn't bother her in the slightest. She didn't fear the concept of death.

Using her glass shards, she'd make 4 vertical cuts into the book cover, in order to create loops for which she could carry the book almost like a backpack. She wanted to take this with her, It was obvious that it had more information she could study. But first she needed to get out of here. Fastening the book to her back, neatly tucked in a way so she could use her new wings she'd do a couple of hops to get used to the weight. Hop hop! jump!

The leap of faith! her wings batting heavily against the dead air that filled this place. She was the only one left in the room, ergo she had some leeway in case the book upon her back was.. Heavy. Heavy yes she'd fall a little too fast but manage to catch herself at the last moment with some exhaustive wing beats. As she'd ascend back. Arms outstretched in front of her to steady herself as she'd slowly fly out of the room, Moving in the opposite direction of the ones that had just left, Her goal would be to find an exit. Or perhaps.. She could see if there was that "Tears of Heaven" thing around. Still The Fae had a plan now. A driving force. She would figure out the mystery given to her by this tome, for better or for worse. This had raised the curiosity of herself.

Still. She would start thinking over the nature of the words given to her on the front.

"The moon shall writhe and cry silver, the stars swallowed by an inescapable void. The blackened sky shall descend, and devour the ancient shell."

The Phrase felt so unique in its structure. Perhaps it was a code phrase for something. Or a warning. A blackened sky was much too vague. But it seemed apocalyptic in nature. She'd also be thinking on the nature of the book. How could she get it to spill more of its secrets. What nature of magic enchanted the tome and why was it enchanted so.

Though for now the most pressing matter would be to get out into the open air. The staleness of this place reminded her too much of her own home and it sickened her to the core.

[Assistant]
Augusta gave a slight cringe when Isidore mentioned it was a "nice prison". "If you like this sort of thing, I suppose." Looking at the same wall carving he did. As they moved along the corridors of what definitely seemed like a prison complex the more they explored, Augusta listened to Nick's self introduction. "Yes, you may call me Augusta. A pleasure." She half-heartedly mentioned as she kept her attention on her surroundings.

She wasn't too sure what she should think of her surroundings. It seemed like some sort of hellish game that they were thrown into. These cells were all opened as they passed by and that was putting it lightly. One looked like it was ripped open. And that was probably at a time when they weren't all rusted. Was it an empty prison? Devoid of life because of whatever it was that was making that shaking? Well, reality struck sooner than later it would likely seem. A growl of some sort combined with the sound of metal scraping on stone.

The elfen eared beauty got a good look at the creature. It's wretched appearance was more than enough to disgust her to her very core. Still... It would seem the gift she received from the goddess worked on creatures like this too. "I see... This thing is called a wretched experiment. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, but it's weaker than us." She mentioned, taking a second to swallow her spit. "Burns easily, Sensitive to Light, Sensitive to Loud Noises.... Cursed by the Moon?" She questioned to her companions, looking slightly perplexed. "This being earned the Moon's Ire. Cursed with madness. Wretched being, failure.... Weak individually, dangerous in a group. It has a tendency to lunge quickly towards opponents with 'surprising agility' to try and incapacitate them."

If there was anything obvious about her expressions and glances. She seemed to think Isidore was a bit more trustworthy in this situation than Nick was. Perhaps it was the rather calm way he talked rather than the constant jokes. "Hmm. That sword is probably in bad shape, but it would probably be useful to have. My eye doesn't say anything about it's skill with the sword so your guess is good as mine, Nick." Augusta told him, "But... I think one of us should be able to overpower it rather easily as long as we're careful. Perhaps a sneak attack so we don't call a horde. I don't hear anything else but considering it says they're dangerous in numbers..."

She would leave the decision to Isidore. His 'boon' as he put it, was probably the best for this sort of thing anyhow. As for Nick's last question. "That's something I've been asking myself since I woke up. This body is more... Glamourous than mine was before all this." And she meant that in just about all the right places. "I suppose I have the ears for it now. Though..." She shook her head. She'd bring the homunculus thing up when they were safe. "Anyway, Isidore, do you want to take a crack at this thing?" She asked, pointing to some nearby broken cell bars. Hopefully there was a piece that was just long enough to be used as an improvised weapon.


[System]
Gender: "Female"
Race Possessed Shadow Elf
Appearance: Once, she used to look like many of the Uruthra. A beautiful pale skinned elf though perhaps a small bit shorter than the rest of her peers. Now, however, while her face amd build is similar, she is still a farcry from what she had looked a one point. One might call her form a mockery of the elven race. Her skin is a dark shade of pink and her hair colored that reminds one of a flame.

Bio Vamessa grew up in Gloomhaven with the rest of her kin and studied magic with a mild interest in demons, specifically making a bestiary with the strengths and weaknesses of each one. She was, at one point, the apprentice of the mage Rullphana. She was a hard worker and took her studies dilligently though, perhaps a small bit a trouble maker.

For her bestiary, she would go out to places that had reports of demons and quietly observe them before safely retreating. She would ask people their experiences with anything they may have come across and wrote about them. Over time, she started to become a bit more of a wild card in society. While she didn't exactly neglect her lessons, she did start to seem more interested in her bestiary.

One day, on one of her field studies in Naraheim, she found a small group of demons to spy on. They were beast-like creatures and were snacking on some fresh prey. One thing led to another and a chase started. She ran, and ran, and ran. There was plenty of them to be wary and scared of that she needed to run. Luckily, she knew the land and where demons were wary of going. There was an old coliseum like ruin that most demons seemed to avoid so she decided to take refuge there.

While the beasts were cautious not to actually enter, they did guard the exit knowing that she would need to leave sometime. Worried, no, scared that the beasts would make their way in regardless, she looked for an exit aside the front door. What appeared before her was a lower level. Rather risk the dark than what she knew above ground, she descended hoping for her luck to turn out something. A useful tool of some sort perhaps. No. Rather, she found what she could only describe as some... Beautiful humanoid being but strange. A demon? The thought of having walked into the den of some demon worried her tremendously.

Vamessa took a step back. Looking to risk her chances with the beasts upstairs, she went to turn and leave before something yanked her back towards the demon's body. As she looked, the demon's hand was tightly around her wrist as she felt a weird magical power flowing into her. She tried jerking her hamd away. Tried freeing herself as it felt like her head was ready to explode. Everything she could physically aside from cutting the hand off until soon enough it meekly released. Frightened, worried and trembling, she staggered back and fell to her behind. Her hands went quickly to her head as her immediate concern turn to the splitting feeling in her head before, of course, her vision faded to black.

Some time later, her eyelids opened. Her body felt lighter and warmer. Vamessa put her hand to her temple but felt something weird on her forehead. Horns? No, not just horns. There were these.... Odd wings! And the tail! What happened to her? The answer was soon answered by a slightly annoyed voice in her head. She had been, in her scared, worried state, possessed by the demon. OF course, either her will was stronger than the demon expected, or in a more likely twist, the demon was weaker than she had expected.

After a short discussion between the two, Vamessa found that she still had full control over her body despite the changes and she had some stronger power over fire now. Strong enough to force her way through the demons and make it back home. She could rest once she got back and figure out what was going on.

OF course, her troubles only started from there. The guards actively stopped her from entering town. Her appearance was much too dissimilar from her original and they thought she was just some full fledged demon that was trying to attack town. Perhaps, Rullphana could help her. The woman was powerful and knew her for so long. She forced her way through and attempted to make her way to Rullphana's tower but, there was too much resistance. Too many people trying to stop her. The voice in her head told her to fight back, but these were the people she knew! How could she?

She had to retreat. Escape town or worry about her death. On her way out, she stole a pack and some supplies. Whatever should could grab without stopping. Soon, she was out of town. She kept running and didn't look back. Over the course of the next couple of days, she escaped the mountain, wanting to avoid any search party for her. There were plenty of places to hide on a mountain, but not forever. She heard there was a forest down there and hopefully food.

She spent much time alone with the voice in her head. Surviving off the land she moved around so no one could really pin her to a place, or more importantly, the spirit of the forest that made attempts on her life more than once.

The few travelers she met, she messed around with. Playing pranks and other small things, but never really harming people other than the ones that intended to harm her. Perhaps it was her slowly warping personality, but killing people didn't seem to bother her much though it wasn't like she went out of her way to do so. In fact, her time in the forest with the voice made her a slight bit more antagonistic towards others. Her natural reaction to people was to poke fun at them or goading them. And yet, there were still moments of sincerity from her in dire moments.

After some time, she found herself in the village of Dawn (tired of the attempts on her life by the forest). Somehow, perhaps by some divine guiding hand, she found a place for herself. She made herself useful and took care of fires around the town though she was perhaps a small bit suspicious looking, walking around late at night and making sure the place was properly lit up. It wasn't difficult with the powers she gained from her possession. She was also made to cook, which she didn't seem to mind doing despite any complaints she may give.

Goals:
 Become strong enough to survive on her own and rid herself of her possession if it becomes a problem. Finish her bestiary.

Skills:

Blood-possessed: No longer what you once were, you've been possessed by a demon, effectively turning you into one yourself. The one that has taken hold of you is of the bestial and violent Blood Clan that revels in violence, emotion, and domination. It has only a minor sway over you currently, but it does seem to give you some inherent ability for fire, boosting your abilities and affinities with them...and also making you prone to outbursts of violence, and feeling euphoria watching things burn. You don't know the demons name yet, nor what its fully capable of. If it takes full control of you, you may not even remember it nor have control over your own body any more. Sometimes, you hear its sweet seductive whispers telling you to commit atrocities.

Wild-Fire Pyromancy: Years of possession in the wild has left Vamessa naturally good at fire magic. There is also this constant desire burning in her heart to set fire to the things around her. While it's fairly easy to satiate, it's always nagging. Cooking is a surprisingly good outlet.

The Mage's Disciple: At one point, she was the disciple of Rullphana, the greatest mage in Gloomhaven. A fact she was proud of. She has a general study of all the basic ideas of magic and, generally, can figure out magic and knows many simple spells and things as such.

Inventory:

Demonic Bestiary: The bestiary she spent time on making some years prior.

[User]
Atzi felt the heat before she felt the touch, the warmth that exuded from the demon's body so out-of-place in the frigid chill of Azral Suralng's wake that it couldn't have been anyone but Vamessa. Her presence had been important to Dawn's survival, and her gift with flames had saw households through cold nights once the firewood ran out. For all the disdain that came with the demon's origins, Atzi herself held no great grudge against her.

And honestly, it wasn't as if Dawn was a sanctuary of prudes to begin with. So long as Vammy figured the time and place for her groping, she'd fit in just fine. Akala, after all, didn't have any bad blood with her, and that priestess was the holiest individual present.
"That's good," she responded with a firm nod in her direction. "Thanks."

Akando's concern was also appreciated, though with a boy and a childhood friend at that, Atzi couldn't help but put up a stronger front. Forcing a grin, she wrapped her hand around the back of his head and pulled him in, bumping foreheads. "Not like you could, anyhow. Last time we wrestled, you couldn't toss me even when I stood straight up, remember?" Her teeth flashed. Happier days, warmer days. She released him, then smacked him on the back with a vigor that wasn't completely fake. "Show that elf up, Akando."

And with Achel looking like she was finally going to take a break, Atzi decided to get to work too now. For all the emotional labour, her body remained thrumming with energy, and she struck her bicep with the palm of her opposing hand. It was a meaty thwack that carried well throughout the echoing chambers of the church. "A moment then!"

Without anything else holding her back, Atzi ran off, her heart speeding up as her lungs pumped cold air through her burning blood. Crusted snow scattered as her mocassins smashed against the ground, and within moments, she reached Bolcha's workshop and home. Though they were ostensibly family, a desire for independence had come with a desire for privacy, and Atzi had built her own little hut a couple meters away from the craftsman's abode, where she could entertain her personal guests without bothering her foster family, as well as where she could experiment with her craft without disturbance.

This time, however, she was here only because she had a habit of keeping a warm oven, and to pick up her equipment. Pushing open the slab of wood that served as the door to her mudbrick hut, Atzi pulled an extra cloak that laid in a heap, rescued a loaf of bread from her stove, empty out her waterskin and replaced the contents with some wine, and finally strapped her wooden club to the loop in her belt. Maira's own home wasn't even a day's walk away; if she kept a good pace, she should reach it expediently. Wouldn't even take half a day if she tried. All she had to do was stay in motion.

Atzi stared at the embers and the ashes, breathed in the oils and fats, the acrid but tantalizing stench of scrambled brains and unscented soap. Her bed had been lonely for too long. She would invite Maira over tonight.

Right. That's a certainty.

Because she's still alive.

…

Atzi returned, the sweat beading over her body already wicked away by the breath of winter. She placed the round loaf of bread, kept warm during her return by being wrapped up in a cloth and held beneath her armpit, firmly into the Chiralta gravekeeper's hands, then swivelled about to locate Vamessa again. It looked as if the demon was nursing a bump on her head, but if it was just a bump, then it was fundamentally nothing.

"Let's go. Can you run?"

If she couldn't, that was no problem either. Atzi was just going to carry her there.

[Assistant]
Lissa

It didn't take long after the speech for small groups to form to tackle some of the tasks that village chief Enli and the other villagers had needed to be done. Indeed, Lissa wasn't alone in wanting to help some of the patients either. Though, she was greeted by the strange, but somewhat heartwarming scene of some of Dawn's girls interacting… through a combination of hugging, mauling with a hammer, and more hugging… but mostly hugging. It was rather cute display of humanity in the aftermath of a disaster, even if there was still a demon amidst them. It was for things like this –demon aside— that she traveled and interacted so.

Lissa inclined her head towards the village priestess as she addressed her. She thought Akala looked a bit young for her role, but considering the village's immediate history, she supposed it was lucky there was somebody to fill the position. "Not a problem at all. Again, thank you for having me, and I'm glad to help. I'm Lissa," she responded, reintroducing herself, mostly for the benefit of the other three girls. So her guess had been right—the Mothraki was a villager, and a fellow helper, it seemed.

"A Chiralta, huh," Lissa echoed, nodding as she memorized the name. "You've got a very diverse village here," she noted, her eyes flicking off to glance at the lewd demon girl that remained off to the side, but not before giving a goodbye wave to the departing Lazhira. As far as questions went, she had a lot, and many of them in regards to Vamessa… but again, there were things that needed doing, so she turned to Nyla with another nod.

"I'm in your care, then. Let's get Calra those herbs and anything else she might need for her patients, yeah?"

Then she paused. "Will the de—ah, Vamessa… be joining us?"

[User]
Vammy was happy to get a little cute noise out of Lazhira, even with that threat of throwing her out of the house that she didn't really expect her to fulfill. After all, she was like a furnace that kept the house warm at night... Even if she tossed and turned in bed the nights where she managed to make herself actually fall asleep. Then, came the hit to the head! A wonderful blow that made her arms go straight to the back of her head to try and dull the pain a bit. "Oooooucccch!" She groaned, looking towards the moth after she recovered. "Damn moth, I'll get your butt for this." Vammy said, though knowing her, one couldn't tell just how literal she was being with that statement.

She quickly moved over to where the Mothraki was standing and threw her arms around her shoulders, opened her mouth wide.... And started to lightly nibble on Nylah's ear, as if to show off her "impish attitude". After a few seconds of this, "Yes, yes. Demon this and that. Just call me Vammy. I'm a really nice girl if you get to know me~" She said before lightly nibbling on Nylah's ear again and then releasing her fully. "I won't be joining you though, I have another job to go do. Maybe some other time though, new girl~"

That was when Lazhira walked off, saying she had something to go do. "Oi, Lazhira!" Vammy said just as the girl was out of earshot. "Geh, that girl. She always disappears. From right in front of me..." Grumbling about following her fully one of these days, she rubbed her head again, feeling the pain from it a bit still. That was when Atzi showed up behind her, asking if she could run. So of course, Vammy had the perfect answer to that. "Oh... I could probably run, but I'm worried I might fall over because a certain moth smacked me square in the back of the head. I would hope very much that a strong, muscular woman would be able to carry me in her arms as we go~"


[System]
Age: 18
Year: 4th
Gender: Female
Species: Faerie
Physical Description: Human Glamour

In Depth Physical Description: Kiki's most memorable feature is her thick mane of loose, cherry red curls. Her ivory skin is surprisingly freckle-free, a hint at her supernatural ancestry. Kiki's eyes are a pale grey by default, but they change color depending on her mood, although a simple glamour can cover that if she chooses. Kiara stands at a short 5 foot 2 inches and is fairly thin; some might even describe her as skeletal. Despite her petite, human-like frame, an aura of menace tends to surround KiKi, and she relishes in the fear it can draw out in others.
In her true faerie form, Kiki has wings, pointed canines and inscisors, and her skin is a light stony gray; Her hair also floats around her as if she is hovering underwater.
Personality: Kiara isn't your average Unseelie faerie; although she feeds off of negative emotions, she likes to have a good time. Unless they are as troublesome as her, making friends has never been her strong suit, but finding lovers seems to come easily enough. Kiara is strikingly attractive and worse yet, she knows it, using these looks to invoke both lust and envy - some of her favorite flavors. At a young 18 years, Kiki is but a child in terms of a faerie lifespan, although she won't physically mature much past this age. Kiki has a lot to learn about both herself and the faerie world. She came to this school from the faerie realm in order to learn how to control her powers and better conceal herself using glamour. Right now, the use of glamour doesn't come quite so easily, and her eyes will suddenly change color, or her wings will sprout out unintentionally. Once she learns to control it completely, Kiki hopes to travel to the human realm to cause mischief and mayhem alongside some of her old friends from the Unseelie Court.
Hobbies: Practicing elaborate make-up designs on herself and others, painting/drawing (the fine arts in general), learning about plants and potion-making with the witches.
Familiar:
Extra: She can fly, but is not very gracefully yet. Kiki was also born to a particularly powerful set of parents, her father being descended from Moriganne herself, so she has some innate dark powers that she has yet to discover.

[User]
~ Kiara ~

Kiki made her way to the courtyard, where the greatest density of new students stood, and looked around curiously. The wide doors to the building swung open, and out walked a tall, slender woman dressed in silver robes. Her hair was blonde and streaked with lavender, and her face and words were equally warm and kind. She seemed to be giving instructions to the new students. Kiki was a new student herself, entering the school as a fourth year because of her age. Madame P informed them to find the nearest teacher to get their room assignments before she disappeared in a puff of smoke and purple light. Kiki looked at the empty space where Madame P had stood, a little bit starstruck. Of course, faeries like herself could possess magic, but Kiara hadn't come to master something as simple as a glamour yet, let alone any fancy tricks. Hopefully, this school would help her learn to control her powers, and maybe even discover that she has magic like some of her relatives do.

Kiara made her way to the nearest teacher-like supernatural. Many of the cryptids here were so beautiful and youthful, it was hard to tell who was a teenager and who was hundreds of years old. Kiki received her dorm assignment, she was in the girls dormitory with a roommate named Laurel. That was something she hadn't really thought about until now, having a roommate. A girl roommate, too. Females normally didn't like her much, and Kiki was torn between whether she wanted this Laurel to like her, or not. Having a roommate dislike her would make for some good emotional sustenance, but she also kind of wanted to have at least one friend in this strange new realm. Either way, it was time to meet fate, so she headed to room number she was assigned.

The dorm room was just as lovely as the rest of the campus. There were live plants and the windows were open, allowing a natural air flow to pass through. Kiki guessed that her side of the room was the one with a bed covered in a blanket made of magically preserved leaves and flowers, so she set her bags down there. Laurel was nowhere to be seen, yet, so Kiki waited around to meet her. The familiar flap of leathery wings was the next thing to catch Kiki's attention. A small, red-eyed, black bat landed on the open window sill on Kiki's side of the room.

"Persy, there you are!" Kiara said as she rushed over to her little companion, holding out her palm to the bat. Persephone flitted onto her palm and Kiara brought the bat up to face level and kissed it on it's head.

[Assistant]
Laurel

---

---

After the bizarre display from what absolutely must have been a Witch Laurel made her way to one of the teachers who were all seemingly at least slightly middle aged, this particular one was a male vampire, genetic she presumed from his absurdly pale complexion and his ease of being. Most created vampires tended to be a little more edgy though when you had a Sire who could essentially B & E into your mind and discover where you are and what you're doing she could understand the edginess. She moved easily, her steps utterly silent as she slunk across the campus towards the dormitory. Some girl named Kiara was her roommate this school year.

As she was moving across the space a soft tan and black shape appeared, a large female Striped Hyena. "Güzel, how nice of you to show up my love." Came Laurel's voice, it was equally as smooth as her movement, almost a whisper but the hyena reacted by raising and then lowering her head. Güzel moved in the usual loping gate of a hyena, nothing like the smooth even movements that Laurel had. They made their way up the stairs of the building and opened the doors before heading inside and up to their room.

Long before Laurel reached the room she could smell the sickly sweet smell of an unseelie faerie inside and hear a female speaking. 'Persy! There you are.' The young woman said just shortly before Laurel opened the door to the room. The big hyena entered the room first, her tall hackles raised up straight and her radar dish ears swirling around as she searched the room, completely ignoring the faerie within. She was well aware that Laurel knew the girl was present. Only the something Laurel would not smell or hear was a threat to her.

"Hello, my name is Laurel but I'm sure you already know that. This is Güzel, my familiar." The big female had already gone and laid atop the empty bed so Laurel simply gestured in her direction when she mentioned her. The hyena had her own bed in the room, a little lower to the ground and a comfortable size attached to the end of Laurel's bed but she chose to lay there instead.

[User]
Suleykaar Sahqon Diiv

A black limo had begun its way down the long road which lead to the academy. White flags rested on either side of the hood with the crest of the Diiv family flapping in the wind. "Sir, we have arrived at Rosa Claire Academy." The driver looked in the rear view mirror into the smoked filled back of the car. There, sat a figure with his legs crossed and his arms behind his head as he looked out the window towards the castle, his red and gold eyes reflecting off the glass as a cigarette came to his mouth. a red light was the sign that the master had lit another cigarette. "Finally. Thought we would never arrive. Pretty long trip wouldn't you say, Anders?" A chuckle came from the front seat as he gave a toothy smirk from the driver's response.

"Probably should have flown here then, sir."

"No, it would have been a boring flight. No one to talk to, plus I'd have to carry all my things by myself."

"Oh yes, sooo much for you to carry all by your lonesome, two small suitcases and a duffle bag. Much to heavy."

"Shut up." This caused the driver to laugh aloud, causing the teen to frown and take another long drag from his smoke.

The driver had exited the car and made his way around to the young master, opening the door and gesturing him to step out. A wall of smoke dispersed from the inside outward, momentarily shielding them from view before quickly being whisked away by a gentle breeze. The boy's hair moved with the wind with its on freedom, occasionally pushing some hair in front of his eyes. He adorned a casual style suit; black shoes, grey slacks, black shirt and a grey vest, his family's crest stitched into the upper right side. A long black trench coat rested on his shoulders being held there simply by a silver chain connect just below the neck as a snake's head poked out of his collar. The lining of it an almost crimson color. He walked to the back of the limo and opened the trunk, removing his belongings from the back.

"Is there anything else I can help you with sir?"

"No. This will be fine. I can go the rest of the way myself, thank you very much." Anders bowed and made his way to the driver's side as the young boy grabbed his belongings and made his way to the door before being stopped one more time by his driver.

"Oh, Sulley?"

"Yes Anders?"

"Be safe." A small smile passed over him.

"I will."

And with that, Anders gave him a finally wave and a nod before hopping back into the limo and driving off. Suleykaar looked up at the castle and took in its features and design. Impressive was his thought. Very well built that showed class and sophistication. He sighed as he made his way up to the entrance and walked in, off to find his room. 'This will be interesting.' He did not know if he would be the only dragon in the academy but he wouldn't worry about it, he would rather meet other creatures in the academy.

[Assistant]
Perspehone flitted up from her palm and perched on Kiki's shoulder before she turned around to greet her new roommate. She'd never shared a room with someone before, being the only child of a highborn faerie. At the moment, her guard was down, and so was her rather undependable glamour. When Kiara turned to see Laurel, she was shocked at how human she looked. Cat-like, but human - the only real tell that she was supernatural was her soundless movement. Wanting to make a show of solidarity, Kiki put up her spotty glamour, managing to mask her wings and ghoulish grey skin, but her sharp teeth remained.

"Hello Laurel, I'm Kiara, or KiKi, whichever you like better. And this --" she gestured to the bat on her shoulder, "is my companion Persephone. I named her after one of the cool sounding humanfolk goddesses of the underworld." Kiki balled her fists up in front of her chest excitedly "How delightfully spooky!" Despite her dark, unseelie appearance, Kiara had an endearing youthful spunk to her.

"Speaking of humanfolk, are you a cat-person?" Kiki took a shot in the dark at guessing Laurel's race, it might be considered rude, but Unseelie faes have never been known for their politeness. Kiara then turned her relatively short attention span to the hyena, cocking her head curiously at it. Hyena's didn't exist in the faerie realm, and Kiara wasn't yet allowed to travel to Earth to discover other animals. "And what are you, dear Güzel? Where are you from?" Kiki squatted down and addressed the hyena directly with a bright smile, hoping that the faerie ability to communicate with all living creatures spanned across realms.


[System]
Color: Regular red
Age: 28

Gender: Man

Description:

With tanned, rough skin and thick brown hair, Gabe certainly looks the part of a desert wanderer. His leather clothes only enhance the look. He's not unhandsome, but not remarkable good looking either. With a strong jaw and piercing amber eyes, he's distinguishable among a crowd alright, though he often has his head covered by his drifter hat. He carries a lean but fit frame, holding himself up at 6 foot even. He only has a Knife to shave with, so his chin is constantly covered in a 5 O'clock shadow.

Occupation: Drifter/Gun for Hire

Personality/Bio: Gabe is tough and no nonsense. He has a dry and dark sense of humor, but he's grim and quick on the draw. He has a code of honor however, and he is anything but heartless. He's just grown used to the harshness of the world, thinking the endless desert is fair mirror for others to look in. It reflects how harsh they can be themselves. He has a soft spot for young folk and women, though if either try to kill him, he won't hold back.

Gabriel grew up in an upper class family, which was nice he supposed until age 8 when his family was killed over some dispute or other. He couldn't remember now if he wanted to. He does remember the fear, and the awakening of his hard self when he snuck out of his house when it happened with his father's gun. He went down to the dusty streets and lived on his own, joining a gang and carving a name for himself. He was 19 when he'd finally had enough of being a scumbag, even if he was well respected for his dangerous nature. He decided to become a Gunslinger for hire, and an explorer if need be.

He made a few expeditions into the desert, but none that took him very far. Just farther than most others, he reckons. He's had to do a few nasty jobs here and there, but none of this magnitude. But he's being paid to keep them safe, and the prospect of new treasures beyond is too much for him to pass up.

Possessions:
Lever Action Rifle
2 Flintlock Pistols
1 Hunting Knife
2 Jugs of water.
4 pounds of beef jerky.
30 feet of rope
Flint and Tinder
Bedroll.

[User]
~Senna Daher~

The rest of the trip was rather uneventful. Senna stayed near the front of the caravan, where most of anything interesting would happen should take place. Such events proved lacking, however, aside from her occasionally making small conversation with some of the people in the caravan. So when night came with its cold chill, Senna was thankful that she might be finally able to get something interesting to happen. Or rather, she was finally able to sit, drink more, and get to know her new companions a little bit.

And maybe a little bit more, heh~

For now, she was sitting near a campfire, listening to Hannibal's story about the oh so wonderful guard. She obviously had her fair share of run ins with them considering her...profession. She drank and laughed along with everyone else as he revealed his story. She had her own share of tales from run ins with the guards, though they were probably much less...humorous, even with some embellishment. Usually, running into a guard for her meant they tried to arrest her...or worse. Though, that one time she slapped a guard with a loaf of bread was still hilarious. Before she could recount that tale though, Aurelia had deemed it worthy to speak first. A quite obviously drunk Aurelia she might add.

And yes, she was still adorable drunk.

Senna listened to the older woman's tale, though with a bit less of amusement. So she simply ate the soup, and kept her mouth shut for the most part, though she did laughed at Aurelia's drunken dancing. She really would have liked to met this commander person and introduce him to her crossbow. Preferably at point blank range if what Aurelia was saying was in fact true. Her thoughts about such things were caught completely off guard however, as Aurelia went right over to Ava...and kissed her right on the lips.

Senna's jaw hung open for a few seconds before loud, raucous laughter escaped her lips. She clapped her hands together, quite enjoying the scene before her. That had just made this uneventful night a hundred times better. The only thing she wished was different, was that she was on the receiving end of that kiss, but eh, she'd work on that, heh. Before she could comment much on what happened though, it seemed Aurelia had spilled her soup on herself in her want to hurry along with her story, and was now accusing her of stealing it.

"Aww, I'm hurt, Aurelia." Senna replied with a wide grin, standing from her seat on the desert sands, taking her own bowl of soup with her. "I may be a thief by trade, but I would never dare to steal anything from a beautiful woman like yourself." She replied as she walked over to Aurelia, not caring about the gladius that may or may not pose a threat to her immediate life. She was certain she could dodge whatever Aurelia drunkenly threw at her, though Senna didn't think she'd actually do anything like that anyways.

"Except maybe a kiss since you seem to be offering them tonight." The redhead chuckled quietly. Well, that was a horrible attempt at flirting, but eh, who cares. "But uhm, if you want some soup here ya go." Senna said, offering her own to Aurelia. "I'm pretty much done with it anyways."

[Assistant]
The Wanderer: Gabriel Del'Tannon

Gabe had the bottle at his lips right as Aurelia began her theatrics, and it slowly fell down to his lap as the normally stoic man's face turned comically questioning. "What the hell?" he whispered, harsh eyes now turning merely confused. The girl'd had too much drink for all of them it looked like. He'd seen women make fools of themselves because of alcohol before, but never a warrior and never in such a dramatic fashion. He then did something that he didn't think he'd do. He started laughing. No mere chuckle, either. A full blown laugh that carried across the camp.

Gabe almost didn't take the threat seriously when Aurelia beckoned Senna over, sword drawn. He decided to quiet down, stifling his laugh by coughing and patting his chest with a fist. He doubted anything would happen, but old habits kicked in. It was plain instinct when his free hand slid over to his pistol grip. He just watched the exchange between the two girls. He shook his head, figuring he knew where it was going. Somewhere that only drink could take people. His gaze switched to Senna, and he realized his initial thought was wrong. That girl would do most anything sober.

[User]
---

---

Ava Hemingway

---

---

Ava shook her head as she listened to the caravan leader boast about his second pardon by the Queen, "What sort of black mail do you have on her?" She thought, sipping at her vegetable soup which was severely lacking in salt. Her eyes looked past Hannibal as he raved on, examining each face around the circle as much as the illumination of camp fire flames would let her.

Just as she set her gaze on the exotic, awkward woman that she had met earlier in the day a silhouette blocked her view. Looking up, she noticed it to be her famous researcher acquaintance. While she had no previous knowledge of him, Hannibal was so kind as to provide some during their conversation earlier. Urs Uring; a book smart man, though clearly lacking in street smarts. Nonetheless, he might prove valuable in a sticky situation. She immediately returned his friendly smile, her somber attitude doing yet another 180. "Evenin' Urs! Of course I don't mind, take a seat on my luxurious sofa here." She patted the sand next to her, currently sitting on the ground cross legged.

"Honorable? I am not sho shure 'bout dat, Hannibal!"

Ava leaned over to look around Urs, noticing Aurelia jumping to her feet and knocking over her dinner. She smirked and made eye contact with her companion again, "It seems you are just in time to join me for more Nekroz entertainment." She laughed a bit, gluing her eyes to the female warrior who was very obviously drunk. After weeks of tracking Aurelia, Ava already knew that Aurelia wasn't usually one to drink so heavily. Aurelia was most likely a light weight, or she had been drinking since the afternoon... or both.

"However... He eyed me wish dose hawkish eyesh of hish, ash if I wash nothing but a piece o' meat."

Strangely, the Nekroz woman began eyeing Ava with her own "hawkish" eyes. As Aurelia marched her way over and pushed Urs out of the way, Ava raised a brow and set her bowl of soup off to the side. "Now that wasn't very n-" She wasn't able to get the words out before Aurelia forcefully grabbed her hand and yanked her to her feet. Ava stumbled a few times as Aurelia swayed her body to and fro, though eventually she caught up with her new dance partners movements. At this point it was simply better to go along with the woman's antics rather than take her down in front of everyone. Plus, the damn woman had an iron grip around her hand.

Shivers traveled through Ava's spine as Aurelia's hand wandered further down her lower back, their faces edging closer together. Aurelia reeked of alcohol, enough for the both of them. The thought of twisting Aurelia's hand backwards, stepping out of her embrace and putting her into an arm lock crossed her mind for a brief moment, but it was too late to do anything. Aurelia sloppily pressed her lips to Ava's, causing the brunette's emerald eyes to grow wide and tense her body in shock. Ava pushed her away, though Aurelia just giggled and danced away from her without a care in the world. She narrowed her eyes on Aurelia as she finished her story before turning and heading back to Urs. Surely a better companion to have than Aurelia. "Should've killed her when I had the chance..."

"Did you enjoy the show?" Ava laughed as she found her previous spot, sitting down in the sand once again. She wouldn't let the crowd, nor Urs, know that she had been so annoyed with Aurelia. It was better to remain indifferent to it. It was not so much the kiss that had irked her, so much as Aurelia's complete disregard for approval. Quite like Aurelia's oh-so hated Mr. Evans, ironically enough.

@Viciousmarrow

[Assistant]
Hannible merely watched the spectacle unfolding in front of him, hand casually drifting to his sword as the clearly drunk guardswoman began waving hers about. It turned out his worries were for naught though, so he soon returned his attention to the food in front of him. If the drinking from earlier had affected him at all it was not evident, although whether that was because he had been drunk the entire time, or had some untold levels of tolerance had yet to be seen. Drunk or not, he finished his soup quietly while the women around the campfire caused their commotion.

He had considered, briefly, pointing out that suggesting Evans was not corrupt did not at all suggest he was a good human being, but that was a discussion for a different day. He suspected trying to have any sensible debate about it right now would end poorly. His bruised stomach throbbed at the memory of the Nekroz woman's violent streak. First she hits him, then she makes like she planned to stab someone over a bowl of soup. Not exactly a woman of soft temperament, despite her initial impression. He made a mental note to never hand her a bottle of wine again.

Trying to end the scene before it got even more crazy, Hannibal got to his feet and began clapping slowly.

"A good show, a good show you two! Does anyone else wish to regale us with tales of their exploits? Surely we've all had some adventure in our lives, no? Some accomplishment of pride? No need to be modest! After all, when this journey is done it shall be all of our greatest achievements! Every one of us."

He turned to look each of those gathered in the eyes as he spoke, hoping to compel at least one of them to stand and speak. Hannibal himself had plenty of tales yet to tell of course, but he was as content to share the spotlight as steal it. Besides, with the shear scope of his adventures over the years it wouldn't surprise him if he had been involved with one or more of these people in some capacity or the other.

[User]
The Wanderer: Gabriel Del'Tannon

Gabe sat still as a statue. A silent sentinel watching his team and their antics. Hannible's question had his dark eyes gazing about, and he waited for someone to inevitably respond to him. When it seemed like 3 days since their flamboyant leader spoke, Gabe decided to throw his hat into the ring. He spit into the dirt, and sat forward ever so slighty. His voice carried across the fire.
"Few years back, there was a cartel deal gone wrong." he began. "Roy O'tate and his boys fucked up some deal bad, wound up getting most of 'em killed. Roy and his last dozen or so men got bounties on their heads as a result. Sent most of them scattering to the Four winds. Some of 'em got caught and sentenced to hangin'. Roy and his last 4 were fixing to get some revenge, from what I hear. But I wasn't there for them scheming. I was there for their deaths."

He let the words hang in the air, and took a swig from his bottle after a moment. Clearing his throat, he continued. "Turns out there was a small gulley 'round the other side of Oasis that Roy claimed as his own. Not sure how it got there. Been no water around there since my family can recall...anyway, got a tip from an old friend and went scouting out that way. Found one of Roy's men up top taking a piss right at dusk. Killed him quiet. Just used the knife. I checked over the ledge of the hole, and saw what had to be a mistake. But ol' Roy was talking to one of the noble women on the upper houses. Forgot the gal's name, but from their conversation, it looked like they're to be making some form of alliance somehow, sealed with a kiss. From what I remember, she had a ring on her finger, and I bet my father's soul that it wasn't belonging to Roy."

Gabe shook his head. and shrugged. "4 shots from my rifle took out the last 3 of Roy's men, and the last one went clean through Roy's heart right when he's about to fire back at me. That gal though...begged me for her life. Pleaded. Says she was a hostage, which I knew was horseshit. But I couldn't bring myself to kill her, neither. So I took her ring for my own sake, brought the heads of Roy and his boys back to the cartel, got a nice payment for it. Last I heard, that Lady was found dead under mysterious circumstances. Seems her husband didn't take too kindly to her reasoning for being out there. That's how it is I guess."


[System]
Aliases: scarecrow, devil child, the cannibal.
Sex: Female
Age: Fifteen
Class: Scavenger

Brief Description
Height And Build: Small, hunched stature. Lean and wiry.
Skin Tone: Tanned and burned from sun overexposure, and eternally bruised. Marred with dirt that no cleaning could ever wash off.
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Black

Equipment

Rags wears nothing but a very immodest yet warm pelt made from the hide of mountain goats and one mountain lion, which was her 'coming of age' kill. In terms of weapons, she has a stone dagger with a handle made smooth by repeated use, as well as a tapered-edged stone bludgeoning tool halfway between a club and an axe.

Though she will be given her own small sword to train with.

Combat Abilities

People may say that her teacher fights "like a feral cave-lion" as a compliment until they see Rags fight and realize that fighting like a wild, untrained animal might not be the best thing, because Rags' combat style is halfway between 'wolf' and 'bull ape wildly swinging a stick'. Though she is strong, savage, and if she actually manages to pin you, might do something very regrettable to anything within range of her teeth, even a desert-dweller with a basic grasp of swordplay can best her with ease in her current state. That said she is an intelligent girl and a very quick learner.

Backstory

In this cruel world, the strong took from the weak, and this often had bad outcomes for the weak. But those who didn't die fled to anywhere with less competition. Knowing that society, hierarchy and even too many humans in the same spot would cause history to repeat, the strong to rise up and the weak to be oppressed again, the People of the Mountains and Valleys stuck together in small groups no greater than six, and only one man was permitted per group. They hunted with their intelligence, and passed down the techniques of traps, snares, and primitive stone weapons to their offspring, but with less education, the intelligence diminished until the People of the Mountains died out from dehydration and the People of the Valleys were nothing but small tribes of hunter-gatherers, receded to cavemen, albeit cavemen with language, wells and technology, and the tales passed down on rules to survive, to repeat the sins of the past.

To the mountainous range to the West of the known world, food was growing scarce, and the People of the Western Valley developed cannibalistic tendencies, and fought with and ate their rival tribes of six or less. They had rediscovered war. And as such, learned that besides hunting, they needed to teach themselves how to fight fellow humans, developing their own unique and feral brand of combat. 'Rags' was born into this era, a girl trained to speak and hunt and fight and to not repeat the sins of the past, and that was all she knew.

But these skills didn't serve them well when her tribe ventured too far into the desert planes at the wrong time, and encountered a group of real fighters, with real combat training and real, metal weapons. The rest of Rags' tripe was wiped out but she was captured. They could use her. They could train her to fight in their style, and when she was old enough, this tanned, unusual girl would be coveted for her uniqueness, and men would fight over the right to marry her. Of course, she was too naive to realize what an honor it was to be chosen, to be taught by the woman who was to be her teacher...

[User]
Rags kept her grip as her opponent moved, for as long as she held him, they were bound close and neither had offensive use of a hand, and this removed Aighrit's advantages far more than it damaged hers. This was her reasoning. Her foe was slippery and skilled at wrapping her up, but anchored to her, it was his unarmed hand versus her armed. No matter what he did, she would let go only as a last resort. The moment she noticed her sword strike would miss, she pulled it back, and kept it as a guard as she observed his movement, too unsure of what he was doing to risk making a rash move and walking into a trap.

When she noticed that his complex manoeuvre was culminating in a headbutt, she grinned and brought his head to meet his. They both collided in midair, and the double headbutt hurt them both. It hurt Rags more than Aighrit due to the added momentum of her arm being pulled but Rags had a very hard head, covered by rough, sandy skin and rougher, sandier hair. Aighrit did not emerge unscathed. For a moment it looked like Rags, having let go and staggered back, was going to fall, but instead she crouched, lowering her centre of gravity, though she was still looking a little wobbly after that headbutt. She needed time, even a few seconds more, to get her head clear, so she stayed on the defensive and began circling Aighrit with her sword up in a defensive position.

[Assistant]
An audible thud resounded across the courtyard. The viewers either sat in still silence, or produced barely noticeable giggles at the collision, and were they in a better contained area the sound would have echoed from the otherwise fairly silent walls. It didn't, but it had brought Aighrit back into control over his sword arm. He'd nearly dropped the thing and would have if he hadn't been the one to initiate the head butt. He'd had the knowledge of what was coming before it happened, and had made a conscious effort to ensure that the blade remained in his hand, but he had been put far more off-kilter than he was expecting he would have been. Her head was much harder than he had thought it would be, and he'd stumbled back several paces after the impact, already dazed and relatively off balance from the earlier blow to his nose. Another few blows like that and he'd be on the ground unconscious. His grasp over technique would be lessened, but it didn't affect his confidence much. Fights always made their way to this point after a while. The point where neither fighter was at their best, but both were still capable of waving about blades and attempting to position well according to the opponent despite the pain.

It wasn't so much that the pain turned off or went away, not really. More that it was consciously registered and accepted, relegated to a deeper part of the mind to make room for the thought and consideration which must still occur before one could rest and recover. It was easier to come back from this than from the total oblivion of being beaten half to death on the ground, a matter of days before feeling back to oneself over weeks or months. He was still smiling, but his eyes had lost their luster and descended into a state of dull, wet, glazed apathy, neither seemingly concerned nor particularly happy at the turn in the pair's fortunes. Perhaps these were the eyes of a fighter resigned to the fact that either way this all went down there would be no easy way out and no happy endings. It was a different thing to know going into a fight that one's likely outcome was to either beat an opponent senseless or in turn be beaten senseless by the very same person then it was to reach this point of reserved sensory awareness and awakened, lizard brained understanding that once more the being that was he had found itself on the meat trail.

He was a less capable fighter now then he had been at the beginning of the fight, the damage had racked up and taken its inevitable toll upon his mental faculties and his capacity to move and position himself with the precision of a fencer upon the sand. He would rather have danced and positioned and struck in twos and threes with all the softness of a mouse and the deft precision of a pit viper, but that part of the meeting had now passed. This was the second part, the raw, chaotic, demon violence the sand demands of a champion once form and deftness at blade begin to falter in the face of a skilled opponent and prolonged exposure to the pains and hurts of the protracted fight. Aighrit no longer attempted to lock eyes with his opponent, his own gaze trailing just left and down hovering at her right shoulder. Her blade was held in a defensive posture, and it was clear she was intending on using it to keep her distance from him, likely to give her the time to fully recover from the impact. He even thought he might have noticed a misstep, a lone instance of having judged the distance to the ground with a slight inaccuracy on her part.

There would be no form to his movements, no clear pattern or plan except to bring himself closer to Rags, and relatively quickly. He did not move in a straight line, but the jagged, wild stepping pattern of a drunk or one recently awoken from a deep slumber. At two separate times he actually moved backwards a half step during his advance, all the while his left hand holding his blade down and to his side. It was an oddly wild, looping thing to witness, and for all intents and purposes cast him as likely having taken a harder hit than any in attendance would have expected, but save for the occasional backstep he still seemed intent on moving toward Rags. Should she not charge him or move to retreat he would continue to advance in his injured fashion until getting to within a couple paces of her. If he managed to get to this point he would at long last lunge, not to her sword arm but to the outside of it, his own sword arm aiming upwards at his mid torso level and toward her shoulder before quickly, suddenly turning inwards and towards his left side, her right, with his opposite foot and hand hurtling toward her.

Should she have attempted to block the strike conventionally he would attempt to loop around the inside of her elbow with the outside of his own, assuming the blades of their swords would meet after she attempted to block the hit, weaving his wrist and the blade held by it past her right bicep and upwards toward the sky, while stepping forward with his own right foot and simultaneously pull forward on her right arm with his left arm, seeking to pull her forcibly into the punch he was aiming toward her own nose. Assuming she had allowed him to close and attempt to strike at and wrap up her right arm with his left she would still have her opposite hand to guard with, and her legs to attempt a kick as he advanced, but he was confident that if he managed to get her blade arm wrapped up in his own he would be able to meet her face before she could realize and attempt to do much but put her own guard arm into the way of his punch. It was certainly possible that she could kick him in the groin, but her lead foot would have difficulty getting past his own as he had attempted to step to the outside of her body, and it took longer to understand that he had attempted a grab and was moving forward with the opposite foot while punching and to respond to it with a rear leg kick to the groin on her end then it did to simply step forward while punching on his end. This was all assuming she allowed him to close with her, should she have instead charged him or simply evaded him his strategy naturally would have to be altered.

[User] Rags did not know much about deception. Animals did not pretend to be hurt besides playing dead to avoid predators. So, when she say Aighrit was staggering about, Rags did not pay heed to past lessons about her opponent and traps, and went in for the kill. Not even in a frantic rush, but a steady, confident walk towards him. Too late for one trap did he instincts kick in as she brought her sword up to block his strike in the nick of time. She was confused. He had been hurt! Why were his movements so assured now? Unless this was another trap! Remembering traps as her arm was wrapped up and pulled forward, she ignored his sword arm entirely, and focused on his unarmed side. He'd done variations on a theme of this bait and switch several times in the battle so far and this time she was expecting it. As he punched at her face, her own free hand was ready to catch the blow and squeeze his fist as hard as she could. With her strength, it wouldn't take her long to get to the stage where things start making popping noises!