[System]
Physical Form:
Chimeric Specter

 Narza is an amalgamation of a wide variety of souls, brought about by a somewhat mediocre dark mage named Derrik. The dark mage combined, a few dozen tormented human souls, the soul of an innocent young human girl, freshly killed to serve as the catalyst, and three different Elementals, one of Wind, one of Water, and one of Darkness. Dreaming of power and infamy, Derrik aimed to create a fearsome tri-element familiar and make his familiar's personality more easily controlled by using a young girl's soul as the base. While the dark mage succeeded in fusing the souls, one of his more mediocre points showed in his binding abilities.
 The chimeric spirit broke free and consumed the dark mage the split-second after it was born. Because the chimeric spirit hadn't settled and solidified, it ended up absorbing the dark mage into its core, giving it some of the abilities of the dark mage as well. A battle for dominance over the soul ensued. The dark mage, already weakened by the fusion process, was unanimously dealt with by the other souls. The elementals fell next, overwhelmed by the many insane human souls. With the elementals gone, the tormented souls fell upon each other, tearing each other apart in mindless agony. In the end, only the soul of the young girl, added most recently (aside from the dark mage), was left intact. Her name was Narza.

Magic and Abilities: * Invisibility (turn invisible, simple for a ghost)
* Incorporeal Form (she actually can't touch things if she tried, currently)
* Soul Steal (steal a target's soul, works better on weaker and weakened targets)
* Devour soul (grow stronger by consuming a soul, stronger souls are more difficult to consume but are worth more. Slightly increases her magical power.)
* Possess Husk(take control of a soulless body. Allows Narza to take a physical form and use that body's magic at a fraction of its strength. She can't preserve its health until stronger.)
* Elemental Affinity for Water/Ice
* Elemental Affinity for Wind/Air
* Flight (ghosts can naturally fly)
* Resistant to poison (How would you poison a ghost?)
* Soul Sense (Sense souls around Narza, souls have to be sensed before they can be interacted with afterall)
* Soul Replacement (put a soul back into a soulless body.)

Locked: (until more souls are eaten and she grows stronger)
* Soul Scour (rip apart a soul for information. Narza can learn a magic if she rips apart enough souls that know that magic. Also aids in digestion.)
* Corporeal Form (become solid, taking any appearance)
* Elemental Affinity for Darkness
* Soul Fusion (combine stolen souls.)
* Lightning (subtype of Wind/Air)

Weaknesses:
* Fire/Heat
* Earth
* Holy/Light Magic
* Sanctified ground/equipment
* Holy Water (somewhat nullified by Water/Ice Affinity)
* Due to Narza's Wind/Water/Darkness affinity and spirit body, she's doubly vulnerable to light and heat. She also can't pass through the ground like normal ghosts until she's stronger. Additionally, Narza cannot learn any magic of opposing elements. Has no skill with weapons.

Personality: Innocent, naive, and terribly hateful. Has the personality of a young girl, the ambition of a failed dark mage, and the hatred and anger of many dozens of tormented souls. As a former twelve-year old, Narza little knowledge of the world save for the bits absorbed from her shredded inhabitants, but is curious and sharp. She's also spiteful and mischievous, with little moral direction even without factoring in the dark mage in her. When the malice of the tormented souls wrests free of her control as they will from time to time, she'll seemingly lose her temper without warning. Occasionally, she will ask you for your soul out of the blue when her hunger gets to be too much.

Wants/Needs: Souls, especially magical ones or those of mages.

Relationships: Likes to hang out with fellow spirits such as Narza and Umbra.

Backstory: The dark mage Narza consumed left behind a slight sense of loyalty and responsibility to the Dungeon Keeper, so she asked to serve as well, and was accepted. She has inherited the Derrik's possessions, which are:
* Basic clothing: Musty dark mage robes, all black and nefarious-looking. And smelling. Narza wouldn't wear them even if she could. (Not that she floats around naked, mind you. She wears what she wore when she died (but will be able to change that later.))
* Basic alchemy set
* Alchemy ingredient shelf, poorly stocked (previous owner wasn't big on alchemy)
* Ritual circle, high-class but defective (Since Narza was able to break free)
* Enchanted storage ring, low level, holding dust, empty alchemy flasks, and dirty clothing (has a capacity space of two square meters)
* Basic elemental spell tomes: A beginner's guide to Fire Magic, A beginner's guide to Water Magic, A beginner's guide to Wind Magic, A beginner's guide to Earth Magic, A beginner's guide to Dark Magic (laying in a disorderly pile on the floor.)
* Arlog's Thesis on soul-binding - Abridged version (another tome
* Binding and Sealing - All you need to take a Familiar (Well leafed magic tome, and frozen solid)
* Enchanted dagger, for rituals and self-defense. (Never dulls, and is sharper and tougher than normal. Holds a sinister miasma since it has been immersed in dark magic and taken the lives of many innocents in cold blood. Nothing special though.)
* Scrying orb of low quality (See distant locations, but only from far away, or a specific location, but must have been there before.)
* Staff of Darkness (An enchanted length of wood that make using dark magic slightly easier. Even a level One mage would start with better gear than this.
* Mana-recovery trinkets (Barely worth wearing, and also too gaudy.)
* Various spell books (all shelved, that Narza can't get to yet since she isn't corporeal. )
* Enchanted treasure chest (enchanted to resist weather effects and only open to the owner, holding a mix of souls from different races)

Other: Would be classified as an Assassin/Mage I suppose. Will do anything for a soul.

[User]
A dark figure sits on a throne made out of rock inside one of the abandoned tunnels underneath the Dwarven Outpost. The strange creature is clothed in black robes that cover everything but its head and hands, the head of the creature is like that of a four tentacled octopus with purple skin and pupilless milk white eyes peering at the strange insect that one of its Dwarven mind slaves is approaching with. "My Lord Xallihion, we found a couple of these strange bugs crawling through the tunnel. None of the others know what they are, but they are very easy to kill" The former Dwarven miner will stop about five feet from Xallihion, kneeling down and offering up the dead insect that has a single wound where its head is, obviously from the pickaxe that the Dwarf still has on his hip.

Xallihion will lean forward in his stone throne and after a few seconds the Dwarf will hear a voice in his mind, Get rid of the body and kill any others that approach this area, Now. As the Dwarf stands up and bows, Xallihion will lean back in his throne and watches the Dwarf leave and gather the other five Dwarven mind slaves that Xallihion has under his control. It appears someone else is interested in these Dwarves, I could feel the connection between that insect and something stronger than it and far away. With his tentacles moving faster than their normal slow movements, they are the only sign of Xallihion's growing interest in this new player that is coming into his territory, Well then, shall we see who is more suited to being in my service? With that, Xallihion gets more comfortable in his throne and summons a small orb that allows him to see the Dwarven Outpost above him, fully intending to sit back and watch the show in safety and comfort.

[Assistant]
On the approach to the town Torrens made an effort to keep a low profile. In the darkness of night, his incandescence was all too plain, and any guards looking anywhere near his direction would certainly notice the glow. With any luck, they would just think it was a normal person carrying a torch and glance over it, although that might be a bit of a stretch of expectations. Stealth was not something he was any good at. Most things to hide behind were rather flammable, so cover was very, very limited. As far as he was concerned, the sooner he started his part of the attack, the better.

"Hey, Athinar, how long should I wait before I start burning things?" he asked in hushed tones.

[User]
Athinar looked down on the village, surrounded by his fellow champions of the Master, from a ridge that wasn't that high, but it was far enough away to overlook the town as well. Viewing devices hung from his belt, and one of them was held in a massive palm, spyglass to Athinar's eye. His helmet was on the ground beside him, and he looked around at the town, noting several farmhouses and hunter's cabins in the surrounding area. It would be best if there was a distraction, or if the peasants were all crushed quickly and quietly. The main population was in the village center, and the outliers would be an acceptable loss.

However. If the peasants formed a mob, and attracted enough attention from the village, maybe the guards would leave the town. Maybe. There was also a good chance that they would fortify the town as well, and ignore the farmers. However, this would severely affect the morale of the defenders, and make it easier for the attackers to take down a shaken enemy.

Tossing the spyglass and other viewing devices to an imp, who had been brought for the sole purpose of carrying the instruments, Athinar clapped his hands together, and pulled his helm on. "We don't have that many frontline fighters, other than those Vorhaas Orcs, and they're barely two hundred strong. We'd be needing three-quarters of those to surround the village, so Torrens and Shukra," he said this with a grimace of mild distaste under his thick metal helm, "Unfortunately, you'll be left with 50 or so Orcs. Not as many as I'd like to send you out with, but still. If used correctly, we'll be able to accomplish our objectives."

Looking Torrens over, appraising him, Athinar looked back at the town. "Every moment you stay out here, the greater the chance that some peasant will notice you. I'd like you to draw attention to one of the outlying farms. If a fire starts, and a family is killed inside, or even better, if there's a survivor, it'll draw those sheep-shaggers together like a moth to their filthy lamps. Their sense of community is commendable, if foolish." Turning to Shukra, Athinar pointed out several of the other farmhouses. "Listen, I want your Orcs to ambush anyone foolish enough to go rushing through the woods, or leave the gate, to go help. There are several areas where the woods appear to be thicker, so they would be excellent ambush sites. While this is happening, my team will gain one of the gates on the east side of town, and head towards the temple. Azavarn, feel free to roam and make any deals that you feel would be appropriate to help the cause. Also, as we discussed earlier, the remaining Orcs will surround the town, catching any runaways, and preventing any help from arriving. Torrens, wait for us to get in position to execute the plan, before you burn down the house. Narza, you will tell Torrens when to start, and then come immediately back. Azavarn, to start off, I'd go to the tavern, or barracks." The grin on his mask matched his face, under the metal casing. "Should be FILLED with your sort of people." Athinar stood up, saying, "Head out. And BE CAREFUL to not draw attention before you need to."

Athinar then started to run at a speed that few long-distance couriers could match, loping pace reminding some of a vicious wolf, or other predator. If the others weren't right behind him, well, he would enjoy this all himself.

 Something stirred inside the man. It was not noticeable yet, but over the course of the battle, he would find his need for blood to increase, and his patience fray. This might affect the viciousness of his plans, but it wouldn't interfere with his judgement.

[Assistant] Torrens nodded on receiving his orders. "You can count on me." As the group began to split Torrens gave a casual salute and descended to the farms, approaching the indicated house. He had spied out the area beforehand from the ridge, and had spotted what appeared to be a ditch not too far from his target. As such, he sprinted along a path, his pace unhampered by the need of oxygen or chemical energy, and slid into the ditch, finding it a bit muddy but not full of water, which was alright. In the ditch, which should provide ample cover, he lay on his back and waited. The mud around him dried almost instantly, and after a short while the dirt began to melt, although the glow from that wasn't any brighter than his own, so he stayed put and got comfortable. Although he wanted to move out and burn stuff as soon as possible, Torrens knew he had to wait for the signal from Narza, and so wait he did.

[User]
The wind stirred some of the branches below the weeping tree. The leaves and surrounding grass started to turn brown and wither. Slowly the shadow grew and began to take shape. A image of a warrior in old styled armor became less transparent and a sword of smoke grew from his left hand. The face was a dark shadow under a ragged hood. This image of a nightmare born of mens fear grew denser. It could feel the impending evil descending on this area. Like the eye of pure hate burning the towns soul. Whether or not the inhabitants were aware was irrelevant. Death had come to them like a murder of crows to the smell of carrion.

It knew now was the time. It descended into one of the farming villages closest to the town, greeted by the brief shrills of fear. The sword pierced their souls ignoring the meat. Their hearts stopped and their lips turned blue. The flesh on their bodies turned putrid and a dark green. His image looked real except for the space between his feet and the ground...

[Assistant]
Narza listens with surprising focus as Athinar gives his orders. Typically she would be goofing off in the background, staying invisible so no one could chide her for insubordination, but after the incident just before the crew had left, Narza was considerably more wary of Athinar now. She nods carefully at Athinar as she receives her orders, watching his soul anxiously for any sign of a change. The presence he had briefly shown earlier felt instinctively more dangerous than anything else she'd felt before, save probably the Master himself. Athinar continues speaking without so much as a slight perturbation and Narza relaxes.

She keeps pace behind Athinar easily as they move toward the one of the gates, floating silently and invisibly over the grass. She leaves a few wisps of fog around her body to let the others know where she was roughly. It would be easy enough to spot up close, but impossible to make out from a distance.


[System]
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Race: Human

Weapon: Unlike the majority of Hunters that dwell the broken world of Remnant, Gratia wields two, separate and completely distinct weapons due to her poverty, which has prevented her from obtaining more advanced weaponry. She wields a dull, grey mameluke sabre named Valens, furnished simply with the imprint of her emblem on its hilt. It is utilised alongside her other weapon, an automatic carbine named Valentinian, black and silver and also light enough to be used with one hand.

She also owns an SUV that she acquired from a mafia family after a mission.

Specialty: Capable of dealing with enemies both in close combat and mid-range, Gratia's role on Team VGNB (Vignoble) is to draw the attention of Grimm as she cuts swathes through their ranks in her berserk rage. As such, she is quite the durable warrior, and if time passes, she will only grow stronger as her semblance drains away at the energies of her enemies, making her perfect for her position as the 'tank' of the team.

Semblance: Bibere Vinum - Gratia's lust for battle and power is translated into a semblance that allows her to drain the aura of others in the area in order to strengthen her own physical abilities. In particular, her speed, strength, and endurance. The effects compound over time, and thus while they aren't too noticeable in the first few minutes of combat, the longer one fights her and the closer they are in proximity, the stronger Gratia gets.

Following her conversation with her mother on what it meant to be a Huntress and what she meant to those close to her, Gratia's semblance metamorphosed into a new form, gaining an additional ability based upon her existing powers. Her ability to detect and sometimes recognise other lifeforms in the area has become more powerful, allowing her to inject a tiny portion of her own aura into people upon contact, creating a connection between her and her victim that allows her to track and identify them no matter where they go, and will not be broken unless either of them are dead, or if Gratia wishes it to end. It also provides her basic information on the victim's status, such as their health, mood and general condition.

Personality: At first glance, Gratia appears to be quite a solemn figure, impassive and quiet in the majority of situations. Restraint seems to come easily to her, and there is an aura of professionalism that permeates her every action. It would be obvious, then, to assume that she is a rather serious person, one who devotes her very being to work and believes that everything else is a waste of time. In actuality, this is mostly inaccurate. When she speaks it is generally to insult others, particularly her aggravating teammate Napoli, and her speech is peppered with gratuitous swearing.

She is extremely sarcastic and is quick to point out when a situation does not strike her as favourable. She is also rather arrogant and has a haughty sense of pride that dictates her actions. If someone starts annoying her, her impassive aura is quick to drop and Gratia will instead begin with a spewing out insults. However, she is not entirely horrible, being actually fairly kind to those who she deems as respect worthy and more importantly, not annoying. While she is quiet still, she is more than willing to offer them a helping hand on assignments and other problems.

In addition, Gratia possesses a strong sense of loyalty to her loved ones. If you piss her off or take advantage of her friends she will make your life a living hell. Of course, do what you want to her annoying teammates, especially Napoli, she'll only save them at the last minute when they're about to die. And you're not allowed to kill them. She gets to when they screw up.

When in combat, her normally solemn personality completely disappears, replaced by a crazed bloodlust that seems to consume her entire being (and probably those poor Grimm that she'll murder). In this state, it can be quite surprising to listen to her cackle loudly like a hyena as she terrorises her enemies.

Color: Chartreuse Green (66CD00)

Emblem: Gratia's emblem has a certain religious flair to it, with a solid sabre sitting upon a champagne bottle, which is a chartreuse green to contrast the black and grey of the sabre and background.

Appearance:

Source | NarayanK's Interpretation

Standing at a height of one point seven five metres, Gratia is relatively tall for most girls her age, a trait that is magnified by her rock solid posture. With long, flowing brown-black hair, onyx eyes and a well-defined face (though usually seen bland or scowling), and an athletic build, she can be described as rather attractive (though her compatriot-in-arms would argue the opposite), but few dare comment on her appearance in case she takes offence.

Due to her status as a student from Haven, she dons the snazzy uniform of her "beloved" school when attending class, completely unmodified and always super tidy (it comes at a surprise that to many that she is willing to wear the skirt). When outside of class however, she can always be seen with her signature black turtleneck, brown jeans and her green winter coat, which she is highly possessive of (and possibly willing to murder for, though that's a rumour). As a music aficionado, she frequently wears headphones in order to enjoy her smooth jazz and drown out the incessant chatter of her fellows and her teammates in particular.
Name: Galla Mindaro
Age: 15
Gender: Female
Race: Human

Weapon: Steel Construction I-Beam (W18X40)

Specialty: Without needing the use of a semblance, Galla Mindaro possesses a ridiculously immense amount of physical strength, capable of carrying even the heaviest of construction materials with ease. As such, her lightest blows can easily hit as hard as a freight train, sending her targets flying with little effort on her part. Similar to her more infamous older sister, she is incredibly durable, her numerous years of acting as Gratia's training partner having developed her defenses dramatically.

Semblance: Nemo Curat - Galla's apathy and sense of detachment from the world has been translated into a semblance that allows her to essentially detach a part of her own self, preventing it from interacting with the outside world. She can only induce this state in one thing at a time, and if she wishes to stop another part of her self from being observed by reality, she has to first reattach the originally detached part. An example of her semblance in use would be detaching her scent, thereby preventing anybody from smelling her.

Personality: The younger Mindaro sibling possesses a quiet and stoic demeanour, staying impassive in the face of any situation to the extent that one could easily mistake her for a stone statue. Restraint marks her every action, with each lifeless movement utterly lacking in any form of energy or emotion. To Galla, the rest of the world simply isn't important at all, and it is through this lens of utter apathy that she engages with life.

So great is her sense of detachment that absolutely nothing is capable of fazing her. Everything is met with the same bland air, as if there was a distant chasm between her and the rest of the world. She cannot bring herself to care for it, finding little that can stimulate her dulled emotions into responding. At times, it appears as if Galla lacks a presence beyond simply 'existing', seeming more akin to a cardboard cutout than an actual human.

She doesn't see it as a problem in any way.

However, that is not to say that Galla Mindaro is simply an emotionless mannequin that is utterly incapable of being human. The truth is actually the opposite; the younger of the Mindaro sisters is surprisingly empathetic, capable of understanding the feelings, motivations and experiences of other people to a great extent. It does not change her utter lack of interest and care for them, but if the whim were to come to her, she could interact with others with little difficulty.

It is because of this that, despite her eerie detachment, Galla possesses a bond with her family. Although she rarely shows any sign of concern for them, the younger Mindaro acknowledges her parents in their entirety, and it is evident that she respects her older sister in some fashion. She is also not devoid of friends, being able to, even in her bland and uncaring manner, work amicably with a number of her classmates. Whether or not she is a good friend is debatable, especially when she does not exactly care too much for them.

She is also highly observant of her surroundings, whether they be social cues, appearances or the shape of the world. Information is immediately captured and stored in her photographic memory, although much of it fails to affect her in any manner. She holds few opinions on them, but there are times when she does judge, usually through an arbitrary rating system. When taking action, there are also moments where she may seem rather excessive, unaware of whether or not something may be too much.

Galla may or may not have a sense of humour. It's extremely hard to tell.

Color: Chartreuse Yellow (DFFF00)

Emblem: Galla's emblem has traces of religious iconography, with a pitch-black profile of a rooster, one of the holiest animals of the Mistralese Church, imprinted upon a champagne bottle of chartreuse yellow, its brightness a contrast to the colour of the bird.

Appearance:

Source

[User]
Apophis gladly remained silent as he looked around the Armory, naturally taking an interest to the presence of metal all around him. He was a bit of a collector, so it was only natural for him to at least pay some attention to the place- even if it wasn't some kind of legendary forge that rose from the underworld or something. Although he remained near the others, he let his mind wander about, his hollow eye taking in the details of the academy's Armory.

Sangue, on the other hand, remained quiet. When Lauren wrapped an arm around her, the red-haired girl made no attempt to break free. She rather enjoyed Lauren's warmth, and out of everyone in BASL, Lauren easily had the highest body temperature. It made her feel fuzzy inside. And safe. A weak blush appeared on her cheeks due to the heat she felt.

She didn't know what it meant to be "sun-bleached," but it must have been a harmless thing if Lauren described her like that.

She blinked without much thought when Lauren pecked her cheek, glancing at Lauren, and then at her pretty mom.

The snake noticed how Costa seemed a lot calmer than Lauren, who was practically bursting with energy and joy. But despite their differences, Sangue could tell that the family loved each other well. It was nice to see.

As she glanced at Ben, who explained how Lauren fit right into the team to Costa, Sangue looked back at Lauren's mother with her idle expression still unchanging. The faint blush that had appeared earlier had yet to vanish.

Meanwhile, Apophis wondered if he should just start eating before he lost the food he brought.

@Kaithas@Plank Sinatra

[Assistant]
Gratia Mindaro - Beacon Cafeteria (Monday, Early Morning ~6-7am)

The cowlick was drooping. Despite the reserved manner in which Luke was attempting to act in, it was immediately clear to the Mistralese girl that her response had instilled in him enough emotional stimulus for his hair to move, if her hypothesis continued to hold true. The question was what exactly that movement represented. Hesitation? Fear? Despair? The underlying suggestion of a spar was already beginning to bear fruit for her research; if assisting him in his training would provide her with more evidence, then there was little reason for her not to. She was already fucking helping him with his schoolwork; doing the same for his combat skills for some reasonable gain was perfectly acceptable.

"The staff aspect would be something Nuit could also cover to some extent," she said, eyes glancing down from the strands of hair to meet Luke's grey orbs. "But you should work quickly to find a suitable polearm. You don't have time to fuck around on that."

[User]
Luke Schwarz, Breakfast Club

"Yeah, that's true. Best case scenario is me having until the end of week before I need something again..."

I steepled my hands, a small part of me wishing for a pair of orange glasses and white gloves, and racked my brain.

Quite a few images flashed to mind. Even without my remedial education on hunting and weaponry, I would have always been able and likely willing to come up with at least five variants of weapons like this. They showed up in games all the time, and while I'm no historian or enthusiast by any means, I had already learned a thing or two about the potential options provided to me by the general category of "polearms".

Halberds.

Glaives.

According to some, Bardiches and other such greataxes.

Even a Naginata wasn't out of the question, but...

The thing was, a lot of my studying the types of Grimm under Tanner's careful tutelage had been done under the assumption that I would either be landing blows with blunt force or piercing straight through with the head of a drill. I wasn't so delusional as to believe I could get by without ever knowing where I would need to, say, cut or chop at something, but with the time I have until the next sortie being measurable in days...

I needed as smooth a transition as possible.

That narrowed it down a good bit.

"Something that offers sheer blunt trauma as well as enough puncturing power to penetrate thick skulls and tough armor... A weapon I won't need to switch targets all too much for, in other words."

I looked back up to her.

"That sounds like a Lucerne Hammer to me."

[Assistant]
Gratia Mindaro - A Brain, an Athlete, a Basket Case, a Princess, and a Criminal

"Lucky for you that my familiarity with polearms focuses on blunt trauma."

That would make it far simpler for her to tailor her advice towards Luke's specialities. Her younger sister's "weapon" essentially did little more than crush the fuck out of anything in its path, and while its weight wasn't concentrated specifically at the end, she could at least apply vaguely similar principles to the use of a hammer. However, that was something she would deal with later, once Schwarz actually found himself a Lucerne Hammer and a teacher willing to train him in the basics. Now that her breakfast had been completed, she would need to rendezvous with her family.

They had likely already arrived, and she needed to find them.

Haven had not been too far from her home, but the distance between Beacon and the world where she had grown up in was far vaster, separated by the gulf that was the blue sea. Her chances of meeting them were scarce, and thus she refused to waste her time away from their presence. The fact that Ozpin was willing to pay for every student's family to visit was a fucking godsend, and she was grateful for the powerful man's decisions.

"I need to go meet up with my family," she said in her usual impassive tone as she rose to her feet, chair sliding back quietly as she reached her full height. "Work on finding a Lucerne Hammer or build one as soon as possible."


[System]
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Age: 31
Height: 5' 7"
Weight: 125 lbs
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Significant Other: Hugh Van Halder
Hair color, texture, length, style: Dirty ash blonde with layers from ears to shoulders. Her hair is usually worn with shorter layers crimped and pulled back with a few loose strands around her face, the longer layers are curled under and left loose falling to her shoulders.

Eye look, shape & color: Milk Chocolate with amber specks, round eyes with a slight slant at the outer corners.

Skin Tone: Tanned with olive undertones.

Body Type: Toned body over all with very defined arm muscles.

Voice/Accent: Her voice has a tad deeper intonation than most women and is slightly raspy. Though not skilled in the magical arts of her people Sana has a stunningly beautiful voice when she sings but it is something that she rarely ever does.

Clothing: She wears a very simple halter top made of tanned leather that tied around the back of her neck and is trimmed in a deep brown rawhide. She wears a matching shorts that is slit on each side of her thighs as to not to hinder her movements. Her boots are a soft suede material that come up to just below her knees and lace up the entire way, soft soles, no heels. She wears a sheer mantle that flows to the ground and is trimmed in the same material as her halter top, usually pulled over her arms to hide their definition.

Armor: Snake Band Arm Cuff with Enchanted Garnet (Barkskin)

Weapons: She carried one small dagger that is used for cutting up meat before cooking for the most part though is works as a throwing dagger if need be. Nothing special about it, the blade is 6 inches of plain steel while the hilt is carved oak. Her other and main weapon is a Recurve Bow that was hand carved for her, she uses cedar arrows that resist warping. Silver Dagger found in the chest of a Liches Layer.

Spells: None

Natural Abilities: Agility, acrobatics, gymnastics, ambidextrous

Skilled: Excellent marksman with a bow and skilled dagger thrower. Knows some close combat fighting, using her bow in a staff like manner. When weaponless Sana will use her knowledge of acrobatics and gymnastics, combined with her agility, to attack and defend herself.

Personality: Quiet and untrusting, hard to get close to. She prefers to be left alone and detests asking for help. A very stubborn woman who prefers to do things alone than in a group. She can be quite volatile if provoked and tends to be a bit moody.

History: She comes from a wandering band of gypsy that she left long ago for she refused to become what they wanted her to be. Another dancer and entertainer for the group. She was a tom boy growing up who preferred to spend time with a bow and arrow than a person. Though she never sought the way of her people she is very defensive of them and knows their ways. Skilled in song, dance, showmanship. Nothing traumatic happened during her childhood or growing up but being the typical teenager, hated what her parents wanted for her and in the end left those she knew for a world she wanted to know.

After she reached maturity she decided to leave the home and family she knew and set out on her own. Over the years she has worked in various towns trading furs from animals she has killed on her journeys and worked mercenary from time to time as wars broke out, utilizing her skills as a marksman. Currently she wanders the land hunting and selling fur when she reaches a new town.
(A more in-depth history can be provided if needed.)

[User]
Artos handed him back the ring, explaining what it did. "Interesting, should be useful."

Walking next to the squeaking wheels of the cart he heard Vivian and the new guy start fooling around. Everyone giving a little lighthearted teasing to the pair.

"A little stress release never hurt anyone." Bjoric chuckled. "Though are ye sure ye didn't hit yer head on the way down?"

[Assistant]
Zaphere

 The fighting was still taking too long. Even with their second wind they were still fighting. Sergei's fight with the Marilith was the only thing that seemed fruitfull as his hammer did tremendous damage to her face and body. Another hit like that and she would be turned into a small heap on the ground. However, even with it's defeat the city was beyond from saving now. There was too many demons and the portals at the monastery where still open. Retrievers  had entered the city. Three guards tried to take down one but with it's cleaver like feet it tore into guard cleaving him in half from the right shoulder blade ti his left hip. The other two looked on in horror. The cleaver like feet came down again this time , the guard it was meant for dodged. "We can't kill these things?...." One yelled.
"Well we have not other choice but to try. IF we run it will just chase us down." The other responded. "I got an idea... get ready to climb its back got it?!" The other nodded. The guarded left the defensive position and charged forward and then lowered himself in a slide and just in time as he felt the wind on a swing from the creature. He slid underneath it and swung upwards with his sword cutting open it's belly. It screamed in pain as its body crashed to the ground. It wasn't dead yet though.
The Other took this as a advantage to run up and with his sword shoved the blade into its mouth. The blade going through and piercing into the depth's of its brain. It went limp. "Hey... we can kill these things." With each demon they city killed it seemed two more replaced it from the portals and that they lost a man in the confrontation. Their numbers were dwindling and the order could not help as they were cut off and in the square.

 But not all was lost. A voice entered the head of the great inquisitor. "Sergei,....... Sergei. I am Pelor. I have a task for you my son." The voice said. "After the victory here you must retreat to a tavern. There you will wait and hold up with the rest of your men. My Ally Corellan Larethian is marching a army of elves to Zaphere for reinforcements but even with them this will not be enough. A host of people will arrive at the tavern, two of them already present within, you will go with them and take them into the catacombs. The demon Eliphas is too strong and powerful. His detection was too late. In the catacombs hidden in its deep darkness is a chamber. The chamber kept secret with a binding on its door. You will know it when you see it. It is time to awaken the my angel of death and rebirth from the depths of her hybernation. It will take you and this group to get there, while the remains of your men and Corellan's army distracts the forces of evil.

 This group in question is as follows: A Halfling named Ellis, and a Priestess named Ceris. They are already at the tavern. The rest of the group is a few days away from here. They will arrive at the tavern, and they are as follows. Hugh the ex paladin, Sana the Gypsy, Artos the Magus, Ellyn the Bard, Bjoric the Cleric, Vivian the war blade, Garrek the fighter, Deila the Shaman and Das the kafshe."

 "This mission is important my servant. This is our chance to demolish this demon's desire for conquest,.... for good this time"

The Tavern

 "I will not speak to you, you pathetic worm!" The drow yelled at Ellis. Ellis sighed. He rose up the cleaver and then looked to Samuel.
"No lie, this will hurt...." He said and then came down the cleaver upon Samuel's wrist. The blade serperated the hand from the body. Samuel went wide eyed and screamed out in so much pain he had passed out once more. Ceris winced at the hit and then shook her head as their target passed out once more.

 "I do not know why he just wont tell us what we want to know... does he fear his master more then he does us?" She asked Ellis and he just shrugged. He placed the cleaver on the table and removed his top. He shook his head side to side. Ruined my shirt too, I like this shirt.
"Well I don't know about you but I am pretty hungry." He said as he put on a new shirt. "You know what sucks is that shirt was a gift from a very high ranking noble.... " He said.

"Did the noble know he was giving it as a gift?" She asked with a small smile forming. Ellis looked to her and smirked. "Nope...." He answered. She laughed a little as she stopped the bleeding of the draw with her spell. She only healed him enough to stop the bleeding. She then shook her head at her little friend. "How can you be hungry at a time like this?...." She asked and he shrugged.
"I don't know , just got a strong case of the munchies and I can't help it." He said. He gestured for her to follow him up the stairs.

 She did so and they opened the basement door and closed it. The owner looking at them. "Still hasn't talked yet huh?..." Ellis nodded to the answer. "Yeah, he is a lot more strong willed then I thought.... if you got any ideas to make him talk let us know." He answered.
"Oh can we have the usual, I am starving." He asked and the man nodded and shoved back the coin to Ellis. Ellis rose a brow.
"Hey your trying to save this damn city,... if you save it and get my customers back I feel giving you guys a few free meals will be a good enough payment." He responded. Ellis nodded and moved to a table and waited as his food was being prepared.

The Sandy Hills

 Vivian laughed with Sana after what Garrek said. It was so true. Both seemed to have lived a sheltered life, but Artos was a little bit more knowledgable then Ellyn. She looked to Das and just smiled. It was already Noon and they where a good distance away from the abandoned city. They were still not as close to the city of Zaphere as they had wanted but it would have to do. Then something happened. Rodger stopped moving. She looked down and saw his legs still going but they were not going anywhere. The new canopy had nothing to do with it.... what the hell. Suddenly a large encampment decloaked from the invisibility spell that was placed on it and they could see Rodger with his head against a tent trying to push it. Vivian made the sounds for him to stop and when he did so she looked around this encampment. It was huge with what would seem like a whole lot of elves. The elves where in heavy armor with lances and swords at their sides.

 She pushed Das's hands off and pushed off the wagon and looked around. Two elves spotted her and drawed their weapons and headed for her. "Stop!" He voice cried out and the two stopped and looked to their left. Standing there with is mane blowing in the wind and its large wings folded to its sides and a horn coming from his head, was Corellan Larethian. The elf soldiers stopped their advance and put away their weapons and nodded to the group.

 Corellan Larethian stepped closer to the party. "Welcome to Zaphere's reinforcements. You are friends of Ellis the halfing are you not?" He asked them. Vivian nodded and looked to the others then back to him. "Yes,... well most of us are." She answered. The great deity nodded.
"Then you are welcome here,... but you can not stay here long. Me and Pelor need you elsewhere.... I will speed up your pace by giving you a bigger wagon with more horses. You must get to the tavern,... the future of this world depends on your success in this mission. A mission whose details will be explained at the Tavern." He looked to the others such as Sana and Hugh.

 "I know some of you think you could just run from it all,... but if Eliphas is not stopped here right now... there will be no safe haven. He will wash over this world like he had a thousand years ago. We had to deploy our strongest weapon to defeat him. You will go awaken that weapon at Zaphere. The details of how and where will be explained there.... rest, eat, drink. Then you must go."

 Vivian looked around at her companions and then back to the talking pegasus. She nodded and sighed. This adventure just kept getting better and better. Corellan even had to say that running was not a option.

 Garrek got nervous at the sight of so many elves and gulped. When they did not attack him he was a little less nervous. Then a winged horse began talking making everything even more weird. He then looked to Ellyn and smiled. "Well seeing as we get to rest, perhaps I can find a make shift forge here and start enhancing that harp" He said and gestured to her... He then got close to stand next to her. "Plus seeing as you want a new dress... might want to see if one of these elves could weave one, and asked them to craft one that wont deprive you of movement. He said. He then looked to the others and studied their reactions. It seemed they had no choice in the matter.

[User]
Sana was finally able to control the laughter and took a few deep breaths as she rested on her knees and placed her head against his. Looking as the vines began to grow she looked around and saw what Deila was up to and smiled. "Thank you," she said. The shade was a nice change to the sun beating down on them. At Bjorics words she chuckled somewhat and then noticed the wagon had stopped moving; rising up and grabbing her bow off her back as she hopped out of the back of the wagon and began to move towards the front to see what was going on.

 Then her eyes fell on the encampment as it revealed itself and perked a brow; not sure if she should draw an arrow or not she held her position with just the bow itself in her fingers but left the arrows in their quiver. Listening to what was said before brushing her hair out of her face. Great, more people to assume things she thought to herself but kept her mouth shut. He spoke of Ellis, so perhaps the little one was at least safe for now and supplies would be given. As far as Sana was concerned that was the best she could hope for at this point.

 It looked to be a long road ahead of them to the city and the tavern and even a longer one once they arrived. Sana decided to just wait and see what unfolded; it was all she could honestly do at this point. Sana had never had a pleasant feeling towards any god types, whether they were good or bad. Slinging her bow back across her back she made her way back to their wagon and climbed back inside. Sitting next to Hugh and leaning against him slightly as she closed her eyes.


[System]
Gender: M

Age: 26

Career/Class:Soldier / Ex-Soldier

Weapons:
* Basket Hilted Broadsword
* Imperial Dagger
* Norscan round Shield (Took from his first felled enemy)
* Aged Pistol

Physical Description Cyrdic is tall and lean, but solidly built, standing an inch over 6 feet in height. His eyes are reminiscent of shaped wrought iron. His face is ruddy and echoes a youthful appearance, though battles and training had roughed him into the look of a mature soldier. He has quite the rugged quality about him. Two scars mar his face. One parallel to the bottom of his left eye, and another scraping across his right jawline. His legs are long and his his facial hair is only a coarse, 5'oclock shadow thanks to his knife. He's clad in fine and tough leather over a chainmail hauberk, with sturdy traveling shoes and a worn belt.

Mental Description/Personality: Cyrdic isn't a fool. He spent a year apprenticed to a Quartermaster (as punishment for recklessness) and learned how to read and write (to a degree). The best way to describe him would be a hardened, rough soldier at the brink of his youth. He'll use what he can in his disposal to win, though half the time it turns out he'll need to fuck someone up anyway. His fierce independence and rough nature can only be matched by his determination to survive. He's not tactically intelligent, but he has a sense of how battlefields shift and can command smaller troops with his powerful voice. He tends to have a take-no-shit (unless it's from a superior officer) lookout on life. He's amiable to certain people however, and will have a dry wit around those he enjoys (or to people he wishes he could be more honest with). While fighting and killing and marching has been his entire life, he's not particularly fond of being thrust into impossible situations and doesn't lack a healthy sense of self preservation. He's gotten quite tired of working for corrupt officers. He's a devout Sigmarite thanks to his upbringing, and has a hammer chained necklace upon his breast to signify this.

[User]
Emmaline pushed herself up against one of the cool adobe walls, blowing a lock of blond hair out of her face as she did so. She couldn't have imagined that she would ever find herself in an ancient Nehekaran city, a year ago she would have considered an exciting night escaping from a card game gone wrong.

"Talking skulls do have an excellent reputation," she agreed before closing her eyes and promptly falling asleep.

The cool touch of night air awakened her and she opened her eyes to find that the scene hadn't changed much during the hours she had slept. The blazing heat of the day had passed and the cool of night was stealing over the land. Carefully she stood up and stretched her aching muscles. A small pile of items lay on the earthen floor, evidently household nicknacks Amal had been able to find while she slept though there was nothing very remarkable about them. An ancient knife, a small figurine that might have belonged to a child and a few fragments of pottery.

"Sleep well," Amal asked appearing as if from nowhere out of the shadows. She shook her head ruefully feeling embarassed.

"You should have woken me so I could watch while you got some sleep," she half scolded him. Amal shrugged as though this was of little import.

"You obviously needed it," he replied simply. Ever fibre of his being seemed to convey an eagerness to be off and exploring the greater mysteries of the city and so Emmaline pulled herself to her feet, taking a couple of dates from the back and popping them in her mouth as she did so. She retrieved her staff and looked out over the city. In the distance was the ruin of a pyramid, stark and white against the moon.

"Well," she said simply, "one guess which direction we should go."

[Assistant]
The two ate a light breakfast, as the sun was set to rise soon. After some arguing, Amal did take that short rest Emmaline insisted on, though he barely grabbed any sleep before his athletic body was thrumming with the energy to nab whatever treasures they could find.

"Come come, I've only looked so far," He told her, ready to explore in earnest. Truth be told, he had only delved into the initial ruins around the tower they were using for shelter. Emmaline had placed small, honestly pretty mundane wards around the place in case they came back to rest. But there was little doubt that their only goal was to move forward. Stepping out into the street, the moon was still bright, but close to the horizon.

They walked among the streets, doing their best not to drag their feet to cause as little noise as possible. After a few minutes, the city's street began to rise as if going up hill, due to an enormous pile of sand that looked to have created a natural hill in the cityscape. The buildings looked to have been built with the sand in mind and they were purposefully staggered, as every consecutive building of a floor because the next "first" floor, but after short walk they reached a level ground as the city continued, though it's buildings were more packed than ever.

The sun had begun to rise, and even after a mere half hour, the sun gleamed, sweltering and almost red in the sky. The buildings around them were made of a mixture of mudbrick and stone, sturdy even after millennia of misuse and lack of maintenance. They were incised and flatly modeled, yet there was a granduere in even the simplest of structures that spoke of wonders long since dead. Packed so tightly, the streets were still roomy enough to walk comfortable six abreast, and the catacomb-like windows left so many shadows from the rising sun across the street that Amal would not be able to tell from where they were coming from. More than once, he thought he saw a silhouette, one the shape of a man with the head of a Jackal. But whenever he looked, they were alone.

Emmaline looked at the pyramid on the horizon as they walked, and then glanced at Amal. He figured she was curious on if he knew anything about it, so he spoke. "Temples are the homes of the Tomb Kings," He said with a near cavalier attitude, though she could hear a modicrum of respect and even wariness in his voice. Perhaps he was simply trying to impress her. He suddenly stopped and spun, his face a mere inch from hers. "They are not something to take lightly!" He whispered dramatically, almost amused at her jumping. He didn't do it to be a complete ass, though. If she didn't keep that in mind, she could end up dead, or worse. Far worse.

He took a step back, his eyes holding hers for a moment, before breaking contact as he continued forward. "Just be glad the pyramid is not black." He said simply. "Not for all of the gold in the world would I enter the Black Temple of Nagash."

Before she could ask further, they turned the corner of the street they had found themselves in so suddenly be met with a sight too fantastic to behold without warning. If there was a musical score, now would be the crescendo! Even Amal gasped, as the two found themselves in a plaza of stone pillars that seemed to have been built with a roof in mind, and yet there was nothing but open sky. Filling their vision however, was standing at the end of the plaza. Massive stone statues of long dead Kings, standing what must have been two hundred meters tall, carved with such meticulous detail that he believed for a moment that the craftsmen themselves were of comparable size. Even their stone eyes bade Amal and Emmaline to grovel, and it took Amal reminding himself they were nothing but statues to keep that instinct at bay.

Swiftly, as they both felt very vulnerable undernearth the roofless plaza, they entered a Temple on the northern side as they continued on their path to the Pyramid. The Temple itself was a smaller pyramid, only the stone was far smoother than the other buildings, the structure flanked and framed by obelisks. Within, the air was far cooler. Two more obelisks, larger than the ones outside stood beside twin fountains of clear, cascading water. However, the remarkable aspects of the temple were two contrasting objects.

A great statue of a panther crouched, not nearly as large as the monuments outside, and yet still five times taller than a man even in it's lowered position. Its ears were flat and its visage menacing, with claws carved so sharp even the stone looked as if it could cut steel. Below it's fanged maw was a small dias, where a magnificent Opal was clutched by scarab claws at the head of a small pole, just tall enough to be eye level to a normal man. Amal was no magician, but Emmaline would be able to sense that the Opal held a magical, shimmering quality to it. It bespoke of being able to help further one's magical aptitudes, and as it beckoned them closer, they found they had stepped too far.

At a moment's notice, the fountains ceased flowing with water. The ground began to shake, and stone cracked and flecked onto the stone floor as the blackrock panther began to come to move! Amal caught Emmaline as she fell back in fright, for they looked into the eyes of the stone guardian of the Forbidden Temple. Amal stepped between Emmaline and the ferocious guardian, and that surprised him. He had protected Emmaline before, but never against something so dauntless. An impossibly deep voice emanated from the Panther as it lowered its head, following a growl exhumed by power.

"To seek the Opal of Amanrah is to court your very soul, Thief and Daughter of Asaph..." It said. Its eyes found Amal. "You do not bear the mark of Gods. Move aside, Thief." Amal didn't know if he should move, but slowly Emmaline poked her head out from under his arm, and then wiggled to the front. The thing opened its mouth, letting out a hiss that penetrated the very mind. "Daughter of Asaph, do you seek the Opal?"

Emmaline swallowed, clutching her staff. "Yes."

"If you desire its power, then speak the truth." It intoned, and raised itself great head up as if opening a portcullis to grab the treasure. "You desire the Opal, but that is not all...What three things do you desire most, before you entered this temple? Answer truthfully, and you may have your prize. Answer with a lie, and I will devour you."

[User]
Emmaline tried to control her terror as she stepped forward to confront the strange animate statue. There were magics swirling around it that were far greater than any she could begin to comprehend. Her eyes darted between the creature and the opal alternately terrified and fascinated. Panic began to well up inside of her as she tried to come up with some sort of answer to the things questions. Over the years she had become so accustomed to lies and deceptions that she wasn't even sure she had the truth within her. There was no indication that the golem thing would accept her not answering though so she dredged through her soul to try to come up with an answer. Part of her wanted to say she desired gold, but some part of her warned her not to. Gold was a fine thing, but in and of itself it was a means to an end.

"I want to be safe, I want to be free and..." she stammered over the last thing reluctant to bring it up infront of Amal but she was commited now so she forced herself to speak.

"And I wish the Emir were alive so I could kill him again," she hissed savagely. The creature seemed to rear back and she closed her eyes preparing for it to strike, but instead it issued forth a low rocky chuckle that seemed to reverberate through Emmaline's spine.

"Simple wishes Daughter of Asaph," the creature growled.

"But honest ones," it concluded. There was a great billowing wind that whipped up blowing sandy grit in a veil across their eyes and then, as suddenly as it rose up, the wind died away and the statue was once again inanimate, its cat like grin just an artists rendition in stone. Emmaline blinked and then the opal rolled across the stones to rest at her feet. Somewhat reverently she reached down to touch it and rainbow light poured from it in a torrent running up her arm and into her open mouth like a faikr inhaling his vapors. She stood transfixed for a moment until the opal had sublimed away to nothing and then gasped. Half of the tattoed map on her arm was gone, clearing away the steps they had so far taken towards their goal.

[Assistant]
To say Amal wasn't raised with understanding parents...or parents in general was an understatement. He was not good with dealing with his own inner problems, or perhaps he was too good. He'd turned all of his anger and abandonment issues toward greed, lust, and a thirst for danger. That might not be the healthiest way to go about it, but it had served him well.

Emmaline, on the other hand, hadn't quite gotten used to such a life. Yet she was likely more of a liar than even he. He could tell it took a lot to tell the truth, even to a stone abomination. Gingerly, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "You did well," He said in his accented Reikspiel.

Her fair skin seemed to glow for a brief moment, and there was a simmer to her eyes that could only be magically related. It faded quickly, and was nearly gone when she turned to him. Emmaline wouldn't feel as if there was any great change, but the winds of magic flowed slightly more robustly about her, as if the cup where she kept her magic was filling a hair faster than usual.

Amal, ignorant to the change, smiled. "You know, if we did not have other things to attend to first, I would kiss you. Let us save that for the end, eh?" He bumped her hip with his own playfully. It was a moment later that he noticed the fountains were now flowing once more, and he laughed triumphantly, heading toward the flowing water and sticking his head within, supping great gulps.

His head whipped out after he had his fill, thick waves of hair now matted. "Emmaline, come here and drink. I know how much you northerners are not used to lacking water for any length of time."

Once the two had refilled their stomachs and waterskins, Amal and likely his lady companion now felt like doing nothing but sitting for a few minutes. Luckily, Amal was pleasantly surprised when the carpet flowed into the temple and twirled around them with joy."

"Oh now he wants to fly," Emmaline smirked, squeezing the water out of her hair.

"I say it is good timing." Amal replied, crouching and clapping for the fabric to approach like it was a stray dog. It didn't need to be told twice and flew over to him like lightning, twirling about until the thief caught it in a hug. "Ah, my friend it is good to see you. Can you take us to the temple at the far end of the city?"


[System]
Age: 23

Bounty: N/A No Bounty

Gender: Male

Appearance: Adam is a young man with trimmed greyish hair, and dark blue eyes. He has a slim build, and isn't particularly muscular. He has Caucasian white skin, and usually wears a black privateer's coat with a white undershirt, and tan pants. His face is slender without much in the way of scars though is hands are calloused, and his chest is marked with a few scars that are hidden by his clothes. One wouldn't call him particularly handsome but certainly isn't ugly more average than not. The one remarkable thing about his physical body is his eyes tend to give people chills.

Personality: Adam is out for one person, and that is himself. His family comes second to some degree but due to their dynamic he truly doesn't believe he can trust them. Adam can be polite but more than not is rude, and callous towards others. He says whats on his mind, and doesn't mince words. While he may not be the most friendly sort he can try, and fake it to some extent appearing to be jovial, and carefree. He is more comfortable plotting how to torture, or hurt another person than he is trying to appease them. He is greedy but he knows not to be stupid, or foolish enough to seek things that may end up backfiring on him in the long run. He can be cruel but doesn't act on his impulses to do so usually. His main goal is simply to become as powerful as possible while the second is to amass his own empire. He doesn't particularly enjoy the concept of sub servitude, and he is quick to betray those who force it on him like a leash. That being said he is willing to put with what he must in order to achieve his goals. In short he is ambitious, and underhanded willing to do what he must to get ahead be it in combat, love, or life in general. While he can be sadistic he prefers pragmatic solutions to most things even if he doesn't particularly enjoy them. Hopeful children with eyes full of wonder sicken him to a degree.

Backstory: Adam Grey was born to a man known as 'The Warmonger of The South Blue' a man who had spent his life going from one place to another living life on the edge, and learning many fighting styles after which he amassed a massive amount of wealth. He was the third born of ten siblings. The Grey Family siblings had different mothers each, and Adam was no different than any of his siblings. He was raised to be a warlord. His own man in order to spread the legacy far and wide. His father wanted his progeny to master the arts he had only managed to acquire over his vast career. To see which one can become stronger than him. His childhood was spent chasing his elder brothers Clyde, and Hans who both looked after him in their own way trying to turn him into an ally. Though he ended up choosing neither in the end being a neutral party in order to follow his own dream.

His childhood was spent training with his father from when he was old enough to hold a knife in his hand his father found him more than capable of being quick, and deadly. His mother wasn't around leaving his father to raise him with whatever nannies he could find when he trained his older brothers. Socializing became a commodity to him more than a rite he was allowed to talk to people but only when his father allowed him to take a break from his studies. He learnt where to hurt a person to make them talk, where to stab a person to make them die, and where to hit them to just slow them down. The body became something of a learning point for Adam learning all he could in order to promptly destroy his opponents in combat. Failure was rewarded with insults, and mockery. It drove Adam to learn harder to prove his father wrong. Of course this was all a part of the charade of becoming a child soldier essentially. As he got more siblings his father spent more, and more time with others instead of him.

As he became a teenager the family butler taught him how to fake things. Smiles, compliments, and loyalty to others. Things that spies would learn in order to infiltrate places, or how his family used its influence at parties. Adam became quite adept at lying, and hurting people in the right way with more than just knives, and daggers. While this happened his older brother gave him tips, and tricks on how to seduce women, and girls. How to put on a charade for longer, and ultimately even how to use a sword which was his brother's own preferred technique.

It was somewhere near the end of his tenor at home that his younger sister Alice developed some sort of infatuation with him bordering on psychotic love, and affection. Maybe it was due to the fact that he was genuinely kind to her as a sibling, or maybe she was just latching onto someone but it ended up with Adam avoiding her when he could. His sister's marksmanship made her a dangerous enemy so he made sure not to make her mad if possible. After learning what he could he decided to set off. He bounced from ship to ship, and job to job learning, and honing his skill. At one point refusing to take a devil fruit because it would limit his own ability on the high seas in the long run as what use was a person who couldn't swim? He cleverly swapped names, and wore different clothes at times hats, eye patches, and other guises used to avoid bounties being placed on him when he became a pirate. He joined The Scarlet Pirates more on a whim to see where he could go next after his last crew mutinied on their captain for lack of splitting the loot. Though he holds no loyalty to the captain he feels this could be a different journey compared to his already difficult journey has already been.

Abilities: Adam is a proficient speed fighter able to quickly at blinding speeds, and adeptly move his body having mastered controlling it long ago. Even at his young age he was drilled like a tool more than a little boy. He can perform rudimentary surgery, and sufficient first aid though he is hardly a worthy doctor. His main skills lay in his knife work able to subvert, and riposte his enemies with his dual daggers.

When outperformed he can swap back to his cutlass though he doesn't favor this way of fighting as he doesn't view his swordsmanship as his primary fighting style though he is still proficient as any man would be. His other natural ability is his ability to lie. To fake being someone else was something he mastered easily. He can convincingly fool most people if need be if not he can at least fake his real personality to others.

In order to supplement his close quarters style he has also an respectable degree of hand to hand fighting combat styles. His speed, and his quickness allow him to perform against skilled opponents if not simply by how well he can dismantle, and hurt his opponent.

Relationships:
The Scarlet Pirates: He cares nothing for the crew. They're a means to an end but he has no reason to believe they will prove useless to him in the long run so he's willing to join, and help them for the moment.

The Family:

Father - Daddy has been a source of inspiration, and disgust. A man of imposing stature, power, and wealth he had sufficiently become a warlord essentially through trade, and conquest. Adam wishes to overcome him by the end of his life. Respect is a word he rarely uses for anyone but his father.

Clyde - The eldest Clyde had taught, and assisted Adam growing up. An obstacle in the long run but still a worthy elder brother. He respects his elder brother, and fears his political savvy. Adam wishes to beat him one day if possible.

Hans - The second eldest brother. Hans violent nature, and his thug like axe play has given Adam a disdain for his brother. However he knows well enough not to underestimate him.

Alice - Alice is a problem. She cares for him more than a sister should be. she is skilled, and dangerous more so than most Adam believes. Adam keeps her at a distance but makes sure he doesn't cross her. He hopes that she stops her nonsense and becomes a proper rival to him.

The Other Siblings - Adam has seldom seen the rest of his family having mostly been raised with the first four, or so children he knows them, and has seen them work at times but he hasn't seen them at their peaks as of yet, and keeps a cautious eye on them.

Dreams: To become a peerless warrior, but mainly to become as strong, and as successful as his father.

[User] Adam growled as he dropped the treasure to his feet, and pulled his knives out. He didn't even really bother to look in the direction of the Shade Pirates trash talking him as he contemplated how, and why this couldn't have been as easy as it should've been. Turning around and preparing himself for a war Adam finally looked at his new enemies. "As much as I'd like to claim that I have a crew I'm just a member of someone else's crew at the moment. Though if we're being completely honest I think they're a moron. Them, and whoever buried this dumb fucking treasure on a cliff, in a swamp. Where I come from pirates have don't do dumb stuff like this." Adam said dropping his facade for the moment. "Are you the one who's been doing that dusk shadow stuff with the devil fruit? If not you're not exactly in for a good time. I'll be willing to cut you a deal though I'll give you half this treasure if you let us leave. That seems a fair enough bargain. As for my vibe...if you really want I'll get serious. But I tend to get a bit stab happy when that happens." Adam said as he gripped his weapon tightly. "And yes I am very much aware of how much of an angst ridden little teenager with daddy issues that I sound like. I just don't care you're not exactly that high up on my hit list. I bet my sister can take you, and all she knows how to do is shoot a gun really well."

[Assistant]
Cliffside - @vancexentan

---

At least he was responsive. Expectations were for the typical trigger-happy type, hence Erizalla's loaded gun, ready to be the first to fire if any unpleasant movement was performed. The shark-lass would have to address the upcoming replies and interrogations, starting off with her usual toothy grin on her visage, pistol still pointed at the grey haired man with a perfectly straight arm.

"Nope, that's not me."

A quick turn of her eyes would allow Eri to peer over at the direction of the blazing battlefield. It seemed to have calm down with most gunfire ceasing and the maelstrom of tinted mist vanishing. It seemed as though the captain had been defeated or at least could not fight anymore. With the dragon free as well, it looked like her bet was paying off faster than she had expected. Her distraction did not last, attention still mostly directed at her 'hostage'.

"I think this 'mist' you're worried about will no longer be an issue. Nor will the Shade Pirates. Meaning, I won't have much use for this case there. I'm not dumb enough to think I could out-run you and your, err, 'moron' with that case."

Despite the relenting nature of her speech, she did not lower her aim and her grin remained plastered, though with a visible twitch at the edge of her lip. One of the man's comments did not sit right with her. This contagious twitch spread to her index finger on the trigger. Yes, while she lamented the trigger-happy nature of pirates, she was unfortunately another fly in that cesspool she so arrogantly looked down on. She forced a weak chuckle.

"Oh, you wouldn't want your sister to butt heads with me, tsk tsk. No one would want their loved ones to. It'd be wise to avoid getting too personal with shady strangers such as myself. Even wiser not to reveal to me that you prefer bladed weapons and can get a bit, as you'd say, 'stab happy'."

Her eyes narrowed somewhat, showing a hit off irritation on her expression with the twitch on her lip lasting during her whole reply. Her free hand reached for the second pistol holstered in her belt, anticipating the return of the crew and a potential face-off if things went sour.

"Now, please do answer me this time instead of bringing up compromising information about yourself. Is this dragon part your crew? And, while we're on the subject, what is this group of yours anyway? Are you just here for that?"

She nodded toward the case Adam had dropped, the treasure they had plundered from the Shade Pirates.

[User] Adam chuckled for a brief moment. Clearly he hadn't revealed anything proper to this woman. And judging by her lack of knowledge about him she clearly didn't know his family. "What part of 'not part of my group' failed to prove that point? The dragon thing may be a part of the group, may not be. I'm new I don't know what's up with that. The world is strange, and full of terrors. I've got nothing left to say other than we're pirates. We're looking for buried treasure. I'm going to stop talking after this bit. Of course if you're actually my enemy feel free to shoot. I may not be a devil fruit user but you'll find it alarming hard to actually get a bullet on myself at this distance. I'm actually quite agile." Adam said confidently as he kept his battle stance. His father had taught him all about mid range gun fights. It was all about prediction, and deception. Move one way, dodge another, look at their hands and see where the bullet would likely go to. And keep moving. Worst case he actually threw at knife at her neck. Lacerations on the arms, or legs would disable her if he could actually hit her. If not buying time, and using this actually damnable swamp as cover should allow his crew to assist him.


[System]
Age: 29 years old

Gender: Male

Race: Nord

Appearance:
From: Skyrim

Birth Sign: The Lord

Guild: The Silver Hand

Weapons: Silver longsword, an iron dagger, and an enhanced crossbow with silver bolts.

Spells: Novice healing and fire.

Bio: A descendant of the infamous Krev the Skinner, Odin Fenrir was born into the Silver Hand. He is a powerful warrior and a skilled hunter, and has claimed the heads of many werewolves. He is the current leader of the Guild and leads them into battle against the spawns of Hircine.

Personality: Odin is sensible, noble and considerate. He guides his men with a strong and powerful voice. Strong, brave and loyal, he is a true leader whose natural prowess comes from a great confidence.

Sexuality: Straight

[User] Raven sat on a grindstone and begun sharpening the Sisters of Despair. After her daggers were razor sharp, she stood up and walked towards the Night Mother's coffin. Raven then kneeled. "Dear Night Mother," she stated. " I know we don't seem like much right now, but we're will rebuild and restrike fear in the Nirn again."

[Assistant] "It's approaching quickly, lads! Stand your ground and hold your swords still! Do not let it feel your fear! Stand together and stand strong! Stay with me now!" Roared Odin Fenrir, leader of the Silver Hand. A group of them were on a werewolf hunt and they've been tracking this particular beast for a couple of hours now. The prey have became the predator...

[User] Raven stood and left the Sanctuary to embark on her contract. She was chosen to kill a Nord traveler who had been practicing magic in the College of Winterhold. I would take atleast three days to travel from Falkreath to Winterhold on foot, none the less, Raven began her journey alone.

[Assistant] Danon was just returning to the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary from his latest assignment, and the first thing he did when he got back was opened up a book on magic, specifically the magic to summon Daedra to do his bidding. He never really cared if it was forbidden to do so, as he was always looking for, new, interesting, "fun" ways to complete his assignments.

[User] As the group of Silver Hand's move through the northern Falkreath forest they were ready for anything or so they thought. Behind them came howling and then in front of them came the crashing brush. Whatever they were after was playing with them, but the group warriors did not back down and with the power of Odin's voice they held together with fear! "Do not allow the beast to ensnare you, boys! It is smart and a trickster, stand together and do not leave the formation! The animal shall be ours and let Talos be your witness when it is brought down to our feet!"

[Assistant] As Raven began her journey, she heard the clash of weapons and the yelling of battle nearby. Being curuois, she stuck to the shadows and suck up to the battleground. There she noticed a group of warriors fighting ast. "What are the Silver Hand doing here?" She said to herself, trying to remain undetected.

[User] Out from the mighty pine trees came the roaring figure, leaping through the air with its arm extended and teeth baring. The werewolf was going in for the kill, but the Silver Hand stood their ground as Odin yelled out, "Shields rise! Swords thrust!" A loud, crying yelp was heard and the sound of struggling shortly died down. The werewolf was dead, impaled by Odin Fenrir's very own silver sword. A blade that entered the beast's heart and took its life swiftly. With the blood of the beast forming a pool beneath the men, they all raised their swords and gave out a victory cry, but not Odin. He stayed silent, going down on one knee and looked at his trophy as a hunter would do with a deer.

[Assistant] Raven smirked as the hunters slayed the werewolf. Little did she know, another were wolf was behind her. Turning to face the beast, Raven reanimated the corpse of the werewolf the huners had just killed and it charged at the beast infront of Raven. As her companion struck, so did she, ultimately overkilling this beast. The reanimated corpse turned to ash and raven stood before her kill.

[User] Odin jumped to his feet, raising his sword in front of him as he called forth, "To arms once more! We are not out of the woods yet!" The entire squadron of Silver Hand knights quickly moved into a battle ready position. Their shields held tight and their sword pointing directly at the mystery being. Odin stepped forward slowly and asked out loud, "State your business, witch!"

[Assistant] Raven smirked, allowing her fangs to show. "I prefer being called a hunter over a witch," she stated as she began to cirlce around Odin. " But hunter isn't entirely right either, and my business doesn't concern you... Yet." Raven then apprached Odin and she brushed his hair back as she came face to face with him. "Put it this way, If you were my target, you'd be already dead." Raven then turned away and began walking.

[User]
Odin stood still, not even flinching once as the vampire moved about in front of him and his men. Her words meant naught to him, he had faced far worse than a single vampire, but her kind was not his quarry. He stayed his sword and allowed her to walk away. He then turned and decided to return back to camp, but he was halted by one of his men, "Sir? You're going to allow that vampire to simply walk? Are you mad!?"

"She is not our quarry... we are werewolf hunters and nothing more. We will not make the same mistake the Vigilant did over a hundred years ago."

"But si-!"

"If it bothers you that much, soldier. Why don't you join the Dawnguard?" Replied Odin. The man went silent and moved back into the ranks.

[Assistant] Raven stopped and turned back towards Odin. "Dawngard?" she stated. "They're reforming?" She then came up behind Odin. "Tell me what you know of the Dawngard." Her face grew dark with concern, as she awaited his respone.

[User] In a split second the entire group of Silver Hands surrounded the vampire, silver swords aiming at her! One of them was even a capable mage as his hands glowed with fire! But all the vampire heard from Odin Fenrir was a soft chuckle. "Where have you been for the last hundred years, undead? It matters not. The Dawnguard are strong and it wouldn't be long now until they wipe your filthy species out of Tamriel and return you all to the Prince of Rape. But I give you, but a single warning: Leave now and face your death with the Dawnguard later, or suffer a dozen silver swords in your decaying flesh and die now."

[Assistant] "Well you see, I'm part of a rather unique family." Raven said. "You kill me and none of you will see tomarrow," Raven was not phased by the weapons aimed at her. "I have a proposition for you." She then holds up a coin purse. "How much will it take for you to share your knowledge of the Dawngard?, If coin isn't enough I can eliminate anyone you please, free of charge."

[User] T'ophil was walking out of the city of Whiterun, a bag of septims and throwing it up and then catching it. "Another job well done T'ophil." He complimented himself. He has hidden in his cloak so no one would recognize the armor he wore. None of the guards tried to arrest him so that was good. Once he was a good distance from Whiterun, he mounted his horse and headed straight for Riften to rest and get another job.

[Assistant] "Now I'll give you three options," She stated, appraching Odin seductively. "I kill you, reainimate your corpse, and then slay your quadrin , or I grant you my gift." Raven then shows her fangs. "Or you play nice, which in time gives you benifits." Raven then stepped back and drew the Sisters of Despair, the daedric daggers glew with a purple aura. "So do you really want to die, or live?"

[User] "Your words do not frighten me nor my men, vampire. Neither does your dying family. We are Nords, sons and daughters of Skyrim! The protectors of her people! We will rejoice in the mighty halls of Sovengarde if we die today! We are not afraid to die for in the afterlife we shall be rewarded with praise and song!" Odin said these words with heart and his men all cheered when he was finished. "Your words may send fear into an Imperial dog, but not a Nord. I shall give you, but a single answer to your question: If you wish to know more about the Dawnguard, why don't you pay them a visit yourself? They are still camped out at the giant fort east of Riften. I am sure they'll welcome you with open arms..."

[Assistant] "Good boy," Raven replied. " Was that so hard, Infact I might pay a visit to those pathetic excuses for soldiers. " She then smirked. "After-all I have real soldiers right here." She spoke in a flirtatious tone, rather than curing their souls to oblivion. "You know how to contact me if you need my assistance." She winked and turned to walk away.

[User]
Odin Fenrir simply said nothing as the vampire walked away from him and his men. As she got farther away he scuffed to himself and began to march, but he was stopped by the same soldier who questioned him earlier.

"Sir?"

"Do you not trust my judgment?" Odin said proudly.

"N-no, but I do fear for what could come with this chance meeting." The soldier replied.

"The Dawnguard could handle themselves against a single vampire, assassin or not." Odin said firmly. "And her so called order is a dying bunch." He added. "But come now, lad! In front of us is not one, but two very dead werewolves. It is a time for drink and celebration!"


[System]
Also known as: The Great Storm, Thor

Age: appears to be in his Early 40s

God Aspect: Storms

Personality: (Since I am not a fan of writing a personality, and would rather see how a character acts in IC, this is optional)

Parents: Hiraga and Brod

Sexuality: Will do both, prefers men

Form on Earth:

True Form:

Powers:
Storm Warning: Zencrux is capable of freely manipulating the weather, so long as nature's balance is held. He can create tornados, monsoons and once made a hurricane when he was really angry. He can also dampen weather effects and banish small storms altogether.

Wrath of Lightning: As the storm god, Zencrux calls upon lightning to smite his enemies and uses it to empower his attacks.

Eye of the Storm: Zencrux is immune to the effects of storms and does not feel discomfort in extreme temperature as well. For him and whoever is with him, it's always clear skies and warm air.

Weapon: Hagalaz- A massive claymore that is able to summon wind currents with each swing. Often called the Singing Blade for how the holes it has whistle when swung a certain way.

History:
Zencrux was the first of Hiraga's children. He was a rash and impatient nature god who was often the ire his mother. He caused many disasters before fully learning to control his power. When they say that people feared storms in the past, he was the reason for this. His storms were unpredictable, sudden and almost always catastrophic. When he finally settled, he worked on rebuilding his relation with mortals, sending rainstorms to help end droughts that he caused or once causing fish to fall from the sky in an attempt to aid a starving village. His mother wasn't impressed with this, however and told him to not do it again. But he promptly made frogs fall into her temple. He was in his "teenage" years then. And her punishment still scars him: being turned into a frog for several centuries.

He treated humanity fairly, following his mother's example and often creating some fun messing with the pink fleshy beings. He often found himself consorting with some of their men after a long night of drinking. Zencrux became known as a friendly, but fierce god, with his blade on his back and a horn of nectar in one hand. When the exile happened he found himself in Scandinavia where he was promptly captured by the barbarians after they found he wouldn't die.

History:
He proved that even without his powers he was a great fighter, having often sparred with Amos. He got free, took his blade and decided to lead these barbarians until roman times when he pretended to be killed on the battlefield. He went down then as a legendary warrior, leading one of the biggest barbarian bands. Of course, losing his powers made him quite upset, as he wasn't able to just smite everyone and his blade stopped singing it's lovely songs.

He pops back up in Nordic culture working as a raider. He led a group on many raids until his next supposed death and slipped away. He travelled, fighting various battles until he came across a certain temple he'd seen once before. It was a cold and rainy day and the temple priest let the god inside, having recognized him as a friend to their lord. Zencrux eventually settled down there, keeping raiders and bandits from taking the vast wealth accumulated there. Once Stjerne had awakened, he went with him to guard him as he viewed the world as Stjerne was never really a good fighter, he was an artist.

Motive: Keep guarding Stjerne who he's grown to admire and find his mother father and siblings.
Optional Content
Opinions:
He's a great man, both in his heart and the bed. He longs to help aid the humans in any way he can, a noble goal. While we're a bit different, we make things work out with minimal fighting,. I often catch him asking me to clear the sky at night so he can see the stars like I used to before our exile.

Mother is a fair woman. I would say her strong suit is her conviction, as she sticks to her code of ethics better than most.

Father.. He's a bit distant. I honestly think that he only made me to see what it would he could create. I know he's fond of me, as any father should be if their child but we've never really connected. I do thank him for helping me with Hagalaz.

[User]
Hiyori Kozlovsky

---

---

Hiyori sharply exhaled through her nose, dismissing the man's excuse for crashing. She didn't what the reason was or how it happened, all that matter was he crashed. End of story. Thankfully he went off to go check for a phone and that was the last Hiyori thought she'd ever see of that man.

Fueling proceeded and with Hiyori capping off her motorcycle, the man came back. It wasn't so much disdain for the man but her annoyance was clear through her helmet as she snapped her attention to the man. Of course that was before the offer of a free meal, even though Hiyori did not allow her expression to change. In truth, she was going to the exact spot this man was suggesting but with the offer of getting it paid for was nice. Her gaze turned away from the man and wandered down to the diner before turning back. "Fine." She said, albeit a bit abruptly in response. "Hop on. We'll head over." Without further pause, Hiyori mounted her bike and drove down the street to the diner.

Shutting off her bike and placing her helmet on her bike, she proceeded in, expecting the man to follow. She went ahead and picked out a booth off in the corner, by her bike so she could keep an eye on it. She slipped off her backpack and placed it beside her, consuming the rest of the room on her side of the booth just in case the man was some pervert who would sit there.

Hiyori rapped her fingers across the table while the two sat in silence for a moment. Again, Hiyori was expecting this man to be not too significant in her life so she shrugged off the uncomfortable silence for the moment. The not-too-busy waitress came over asking about drinks. "Coffee and a water." Hiyori said, scooping up a menu as they were placed on the table and focused on contents for awhile. Chicken friend steak, good enough. She tossed the menu aside and glanced out the window to where her bike was still present. Remembering and making the connection to her lunch date, she remembered the man's broken bike still laying on the side of the road. "So... guy." She didn't even know this guy's name still. "What are you going to do? Get your bike towed to San Fransisco and wait it out?"

[Assistant]
Luclie: where do I start

Luke breathed a sigh of relief when the woman agreed to lunch. He hopped on behind her, hugging her loosely so as to not fall off. As he did so, a dance of colours passed through her vision without obscuring it, varying in intensity and movement as the sounds around them changed. The roar of the engine produced explosions of indigo as it sputtered, and a wave of goldenrod flowed past as he spoke: "Thanks again. It's just up the road." The sensation lasted as long as he touched her - as soon as he let go and hopped off the bike, the colours disappeared completely. Without a word, he followed her into the restaurant and to the booth of her choice.

He noticed her blatant you-can't-sit-here gesture, but decided not to say anything. He slid into the opposite booth and took up a menu as well. When the waitress came to ask about drinks, he let his companion order first. "Coffee, please," he said when it was his turn. "Just bring us the pot, if you can." His stamina was a lot more drained than he thought. Sixteen near-straight hours on the road will do that to you.

He glanced over the menu, unsure exactly what he wanted but not wanting to waste too much time. Cheeseburger, good enough. He set aside the menu as she addressed him.

Her question surprised him. "Are - are we close to San Francisco?" He could have sworn they were much further north... but Luke wasn't exactly a geography expert. He tried to form a map in his mind... no, he definitely passed the last sign for San Francisco hours ago. Where the hell were they, then, that she would suggest that?

He cleared his throat. "No - no, I'm headed north. I don't really care about the bike right now." His heart broke as the words left his mouth - aside from his family, he loved that bike more than anything - but it was the truth. Fixing the bike would mean a costly detour, and his wife would surely find out. She would worry, and probably come looking for him, and he just couldn't let that happen right now.

He paused. Up until this moment he hadn't actually thought about what he would say to her. "I don't have time to care about the bike right now. I just need to go north." Fuck, how could he explain it? Following a distant bell across multiple states sounded crazy even to him. He tapped on the table, trying to think of what to say. "I'm looking for something," was what he settled on.

God, Luke, how badly can you fuck this up?

[User]
Hiraga - Not impressed
She smiled at the star god bitterly. "Well, they are not. I do not own the Earth, I am the Earth. I have been long before you were even wailing in our mother's arms. When you see your stars disappear, you feel robbed and angry. When a species dies out, part of me goes with it. Come judge me when you are as invested in your business as I am in mine. And humans? Why should a human deserve any more of my help than said ant? Just because most of you adore them doesn't mean I shall join you. I warded the Earth before they came to being, and will when they are gone. Now let Death speak!" Hiraga dismissed Stjerne along with his simplistic view of the matter. It was easy to judge when all you did was play with some stars and generally just observed what was going on down on the Earth.

They were then transported to where he and her son resided. She had to admit, the place was rather well built. She chose to reshape into her human form again, if only so that the premises would accommodate her. If she thought she was living in interesting times before though, it was all but confirmed when the god of anarchy actually attempted to instill order. It's not just 'what has the world come to', it appears to also be 'what happened to the sanity of my family' while our powers were gone. I suppose they still act like spoiled children, though. I should just be glad that they turned their antics on one another and not the planet.

Just when she was about to grab a bag of sunflower seeds and sit down to listen to their not-so-relative say his mind, she was distracted by a knock on the window. When she looked over, she could only describe the individual as someone with a trippy garden of color on their head. Still, being outside of the building this high up probably meant that they belonged here. Hiraga walked over and drawn a heart shape on the glass. It wasn't necessary to draw a heart, just fun. the glass seemed to liquefy under her touch, while strangely it held in place, allowing for a passage through. "And who might you be?"

Shirley - Food break
@Pirouette
A tuned up RX-7 pulled up at the lot. Shirley wanted to just drive in one go, but despite her breakfast, she was starving already - enough to eat the grass by the road if she had to. Fortunately, there was a food joint on the way. She briefly considered going to the drive-through, but her throttle foot was starting to be a bit sore, so she decided to go in and take a little break. Looking at the menu even as she approached, she pushed the door open. there was no queue, just two bikers by the corner booth, so she want straight to the cash register.

"I'll have two cheeseburgers, a taco plate, chicken bucket, a salad and two large drinks." she announced proudly, causing the cashier to look at her funny, until he was presented with a wad of cash.

"Food run for the kids ma'am?"

"Nope. I'm driving long distance and it's time for lunch." She grinned back as the cashier paled a little. Her order done, she headed for a free spot, which there were plenty, so she picked one near the door and waited impatiently for the food, her stomach an orchestra of growls.

[Assistant]
Fiala: making a scene

Fiala opened her eyes as she heard Goehearth's outburst. She looked toward him without moving her head, and smirked. "What's wrong, brother? A spot of bad luck?" Without lowering her arm, she snapped her fingers, locking him further into his form. It wasn't her fault to begin with, but she was more than happy to take the blame. And by her doing, it definitely wasn't a permanent lock... it would just be much harder to shift back when the time came. She threw her legs over the side of the chair and leaned back as far as she could, lowering her arm to drape it across her forehead. "Oh, whatever will you do?"

Hearing a knock at the window, Fiala shifted out of her dramatic pose just enough to glance toward the source. She returned the figure's wave, and laughed as she watched her sister struggle to enter the building. It reminded Fiala of Peter Pan, when Tinker Bell gets stuck in the keyhole and struggles to free herself, but in a less... fanservey way. "Iratze - I'd recognize that head of hair anywhere." She tilted her head slightly. The window pane would open easily on the next try - although if too much force was used, it would swing in such a way to knock the messenger aside. Returning to the Transatlantic accent, Fiala called, "Come join us, doll. Have some giggle water and hear Desious's tale."

[User]
Stjerne and Zencrux: Family Time I

Stjerne sighs when Geohearth finds he can't shift. "I wouldn't know, brother, I have no control on people's forms, though it might be that you and Aetherius aren't very compatible." Stjerne hands off the drink to Zencrux who nods gratefully. Zencrux watches the others, shaking his head and grumbling about if they break anything he'll toss them through a window. Zencrux looks towards the window, an irritated look crossing his face. Touching a button on his tablet he deactivated the security alarm for the window, and takes a sip of his whiskey. This family gathering wasn't something he wasn't prepared for. Ever since he lost his powers, he'd been working to stay a step ahead, whether it was finding Stjerne's lost temple or managing to run a successful Fortune 500 business from the shadows. At least with humans, a god could outwit them and corral them in the direction you wished them to go, but with his family and even Desious here on Earth for this long, something major was at play.