[System]
Picture/Description:
Age:16

Nationality: American

Weapon of Choice (Must be a bladed weapon): Axe

Magic Specialization: Physical Enhancement

Bio:
The son of a lumberjack and farmer, Tucker cared little for the discovery of magic. He was content with a life on the country side, and didn't really see himself doing anything other then that. One day, when he was 14, he was out collecting wood for his fireplace, when he was attacked by a bear. The only thing in his hand was his family's axe, which he had been playing with (much to his parents dismay) since he was a boy. He knew logically that even this wouldn't help him.

Against all logic however, the moment he tried desperately to fight for his life, he found himself stronger, faster and more durable than the bear itself! He ran circles around it and cut and hacked the beast until it finally fell. Amazed at his own achievement, he quickly regaled his tale to his (worried) parents. Of course, they realized immediately that he had used magic.

So now, despite not really wishing for it, he is at a school where his parents said he would have a chance to shine. He only wished he knew what he was doing here.

Other: Is a pretty mean cook, awkward around the ladies, and is known in his neighborhood as "Tucker the Bear Killer" - much to his embarrassment.

[User] Nathan would quietly leave the crowd, being tossed around slightly, but pushing back against the people trying to push him around, heading into the main halls, sitting down between Rooms 5B and 4B, and staring at his dark weaponry

[Assistant] Janos turned on his heels and nearly fell on his backside when he too saw the dragon. "Mi-mi-mitä... helvettiä?" He had seen a few odd things in his life, but never a dragon before. "Onkohan toi typy Targaryenin sukua?" He smirked and adjusted his shirt slightly while doing his best to hide his amazement. Janos managed to gather his composure remarkably quickly and calmly walked closer to the dragon and the girl. "Well I'll be damned, a gal and a dragon, you planning on heading to King's Landing with an army soon?" He quipped while keeping his eyes on the dragon more than the girl. Silently he admitted to himself that he was such a nerd.

[User] Harry nodded to Eriella asking if he liked the dragon. Harry smiled and said "I don't see how I couldnt like him even with my magic I couldnt beat him. Not that I would want ir would try to fight him though." Then turned his head as another dude came over. Harry laughed at the dude joke then saying "While I'm sure they could do some good damage I dont think they'd be here right now unless they wanted to get stronger in some way.

[Assistant]
"Yeah, I want to get really strong, we don't really have any goals after that. Probably to just protect, and look after everybody you know." Eriella smiled, remaining to sit on Zorralth. She smiled down at Harry with happiness, she was very lucky to be accepted into Blade Master Academy.

"But the thing is, I can't really have Zorralth out for long, since I'm very weak by myself. I've only started to train a year ago after all when I was given these knives." Eriella showed him both of her knives which had dragons on the blade, they were glowing green slightly due to her summoning Zorralth.

[User]
> "Hm? Oh this is my way for find a friend mister, even if I have to fight!" Eriella grinned happily herself, she had to have a friend, no _she needed to have a friend._ Her dragon was quite large, even for her.
>
> "Are you challenging her?" The dragon asked the male, he had a very mature male voice, his name is Zorralth.

"Of course I am, I haven't had a good fight since I got here and I fully intend to fix that." Yasuri said grinning as he readied his greatsword. This was going to be fun, of course if his offer was refused he couldn't very well fight them without permission.

[Assistant]
Eriella then jumped off Zorralth, he went back into the sky as her knives stopped glowing. She fell on her knee, but decided to stand back up before looking to Yasuri.

"How about later? Summoning Zorralth takes a lot of energy out of me, so I'd like to heal up for our duel." Eriella smiled, panting slightly from all the magic she used, but she was glad that she'd get to fight somebody today. From Yasuri's height, Eriella was literally a midget, she was 4' 11" after all.

[User] Harry studied the guy that challenged Eriella and said "I cant summon a dragon but if you want while she rests I could duel you. After watching the rank 8's fight I've been wanting a duel myself." Harry then put on his blades from his legs. He wasnt sure if the dude would agree but Harry wanted to be readin case he did.

[Assistant] Yasuri's face fell for a moment because he didn't get to fight the dragon and the girl but he would get his chance later so that was alright. He turned to face the other boy who offered a supplumentary challenge. "Of course that would be fine, let combat begin." he said drawing himself into a stance that left his greatsword in a position to easily be swung to his defense from an assult from any angle. Yasuri carefully analyzed his opponent's weapons. They were light enough that his gravity control wouldn't make them unusable and given the arm blades his foe was most likely quick and agile. However the twin-blades also gave him the option of an X-Defense, nevertheless his greatsword should be able to smash through any defenses his enemy would put up. If the boy instead relied on dodging... it would be an interesting match.

[User] Janos took a step back to give the two enough room to start their little scuffle, his left hand rested on the hilts of his knives. "Now gents, how about we make this li'll duel of yours a proper one? I'll give you the signal to start and will also take the liberty of stepping in if things get out of hand." He smirked and took another step back. "Gentlemen, ready your weapons and take your stances." He paused to wait for both of the duelists being seemingly ready before smirking "You may begin."

[Assistant]
Eriella then ran back in the crowd to give them space as well, she had a smile on her face even though she used lots of magic to summon Zorralth. She put her knives away into their sheaths on her right side, she was really excited to know which one of these men would be victorious. She then heard a voice in her head.

'Analyse the fighting, and use that knowledge to help improve your abilities.' The voice said in her head she nods as she stared off at the two.
_I got it._ She thought to myself in her head.

[User] Leo finally recovered from his dumbstruck about meeting a Finn and seeing a dragon, and a soon as there was another duel set up he shook his head slightly. It was gonna be a busy day apparently for some people,yet since there did not seem to be anything else to do, he could as well stand around and watch their duel. He doubts that he'll really learn anything out of it personally, but at least he should be able to kill some time by doing so. He places his ax safely on his shoulder so no one could accidentally cut themselves with it and takes a place in the crowd.

[Assistant] Harry got in his stance leaving his arms along the sides of his body slightly bent at the elbow. To allow his blades to be ready to strike as needed. Harry then said "Lets have a nice fight. I hope to learn a lot from this." He then started studying his opponent and his great sword. Harry knew that he would not be able to block easily so he was gonna have to dodge every chance he got. Harry decided to ask "Before we start might I hear you name. I prefer to know the name of the people I fight. My name is Harry." After hearing the name of his opponent Harry decided not to show any of his magic until he fully studied Yasuri. Plus Harry was only able to do a so much with his magic before getting tired. Harry then rushed in keeping his blades low for a quick strike.

[User] Yasuri grinned, he liked this man. "My name is Yasuri." he stated simply and his eye's narrowed as he watched Henry burst into a dash towards him. Yasuri responded to his foe's attack with a low sweep from left to right with the flat of his blade, timed to coincide with Henry's dash.

[Assistant]
As the fight begins in earnest a funky Spanish guitar riff starts to play, the notes of the song emphasizing both parties movements perfectly.

It's coming from this weird dude that no one heard walk up. He's flicking a dagger.

[User] Harry smiled as the music started to play with the movements of battle. He gave the kid playing a quick glance then focused back-on the fight. He jumped back from the swing of Yasuri's sword. He didnt want to be losing his legs today. He was gonna need to be more careful while fighting Yasuri. Harry was a little surprised at how quickly Yasuri swung his sword. Harry smiled then said "I have to admit your good. I'll have to be careful while fighting you."

[Assistant] Yasuri ignored the compiment and the strange acopmiant and instead focused on Henry. It seemed it was Yasuri's turn to attack, so he put his sword behind his shoulder, stepped foward, and used his shoulder to flip his massive sword into a devastatingly quick overhand swing.

[User] Janos examined the two combatants carefully, trying to read their styles and think the best ways of countering them. He took his eyes off from the two to glance at the fellow who was flicking his dagger and making music with it. "Well that's a bit different."

[Assistant] Harry dodged to the right of the swing only just barely dodging. He jumped back from Yasuri. He definitely had to be careful in this fight. He might lose a limb or something. So he ran behind Yasuri and lunged in with his blades.

[User] Leo wasn't feeling too good about the fight that was going on. The two had apparently just met because of the girl and her dragon, and were already having a spar. The problem with this in his opinion was that there was no one to keep an eye out of the two, well, aside from this weird Finn who apparently knew a bit of what he was doing. But as for someone with proper authority to watch over a duel, there was no one. Not a teacher or anyone like that, not to mention that these apparently were here for their first year, Leo really doubts that they could control their powers or more importantly, emotions during their duel. "Pappa aina sanoi ettei pidä tapella turhaan..tai vihasena." He muttered and turned around, heading back to the dorm room before anyone gets hurt or he gets involved into something he doesn't really have interest in.

[Assistant] Yasuri sighed mentally, as he expected his foe was agile enough to dodge a simple swing. Yasuri would have to take him by surprise. Yasuri ripped his blade out of the ground and set it behind his shoulder as Harry lunged in from behind. Yasuri jerked his body backwards slamming his great-sword into Harry's attack. As soon as Yasuri felt an impact he would once again use his shoulder to swing upwards with what would do doubt be a shocking amount of force hopefully taking his enemy by surprise. He certainly hoped that Harry could properly analyze danger, Yasuri could stop his swings on a dime but if Harry didn't yield then it would be hard to know when to stop himself.

[User] Harry was caught off gaurd by Yasuri's quick switch between offense to defense. Harry got his legs under himself then jumped back from the swing of Yasuri's sword. He was gonna have to be quicker or more cunning for this fight. Harry choose to be cunning and quick. He was going to use some of his magic. He would use the wind to help move around quicker it wasnt the most he could do with his magic but it was all he wanted to use right now. So he focused on the wind around his body then saying "Well as I said your good. To be able to swing that sword around so easily. Well its amazing you have trained well. So I'm gonna have to up my game, so to speak." After that Harry lunged forward and flicked his blades. This pushed the wind behind him into his body pushing him faster then what he was going.

[Assistant] Yasuri responded with a simple defense to a simple attack he stabbed his blade dowards directly where Harry was headed, timing it so the two would collide, not that he doubted Harry could dodge it but it should give him some breathing room.

[User] Harry jumped up and over Yasuri's strike and Yasuri himself. Harry knew that even as fast as Yasuri swung his sword. It would take him sometime to recover and to defend himself. So Harry swung his blades just next to Yasuri's shoulder. With the intent to startle not injure. Though Harry figured Yasuri could still do something to dodge or even block Harry's strike he wanted to be sure.

[Assistant] Yasuri grinned, it was time to do something reckless. As his blade sunk into the ground he braced himself by holding it and flipped over it slamming into Harry midair and theoretically leaving him stunned long enough to allow Yasuri to land a follow up attack. It would be bad if Harry had attacked mid air, but Yasuri had seen many a battle and could see he intended to strike after he landed.

[User]
Janos focused on the fight again, in his opinion these kids would end up killing each other soon - a little miscalculation or slightly overextended strike and it would be over for sure in a gruesome manner to boot. Personally he had never understood this part of the Academy - everyone used live weapons, not training ones and occasionally there were injuries, some even lethal.

Still Janos did not complain - one fellow with his guts hanging out would mean less competition - he did however drop in to a low crouch while keeping his eyes on both Harry and Yasuri. He'd stop them immediately if either of them began to bleed - by force if necessary.

[Assistant] Tucker sighed. All these new city things were just confusing him. It was a surprise he didn't get culture shock! Still, at least he was doing his ma and pa proud, being in such an exclusive school like this. He turned his attention to the fight currently going on. It looked like that was a regular thing here. Well, he wasn't surprised; the whole school was about magic with weapons after all.


[System]
Race: Ramor, a race with a number of similarities to humans, they are humanoid mammals with the same number of appendages. The only significant differences are that they are more tolerant to temperature extremes and can last for longer periods of time without water, oxygen, food and sleep. Essentially they are an all-round hardier race of people. Their skin is thicker than a humans, and regardless of climate always dark olive in complexion. The average height for males is 5ft and females slightly higher, and their eyes are somewhat larger on average than a humans. Their life spans range around 60-70 years, even with their modern medical technology.

Gender: Male

Height: 5ft dead

Weight: 75kg

Age: 19

Appearance: Jok has a sharp angular face that one instantly distrusts, coupled with a boyish grin that completes the look of a bit of a prankster. His skin is dark olive in complexion, like all of his race. His body type would best be described as athletic, not noticeably bulky for a soldier but with a wiry strength. He has short black hair and brown eyes. His skin is fairly heavily tattooed, though nothing on his face.

Personality: Jok's boyish demeanour is something of a front for what is by all accounts a sadistic mind. Perfectly suitable for his role as an explosives expert, prone to leaving cruel traps for the enemy, he shows little remorse about his actions. With a slightly inappropriate sense of humour and a mean streak, he is only somewhat redeemed by his loyalty to his squad.

Physical Traits: As a foot soldier in the Grent Republic's army and a recruit fresh from the republic's controversial new training facility, Jok is physically powerful, ruthless, and masterful in the art of dealing death, despite his age. However, he would still be limited by the restraints of biology if it were not for the exo-skeletons foot soldiers are outfitted with.

Unsuited

If Jok's suit is disabled for whatever reason or unsuitable for a mission he's forced to rely on his own muscles, with decreased physical capabilities.

Strength: Roughly bench 250kg

Speed: Max running speed of 24mph

Agility: Reflexes at roughly double peak human, due to controversial drug programs increasing the receptivity of synapses in the brain.

Durability: All Ramor have somewhat thicker skin than humans and denser bones, making him roughly twice as hard to hurt as a human his size.

Endurance: Jok can run at a flat sprint for 30 minutes, long distance training has increased his endurance to almost super human levels. He could easily jog for a day and night without rest, making it unlikely that he will tire in anything other than a long period of activity.

Suited

Strength: Roughly bench 1000kg

Speed: Max running speed of 50mph (reached in four seconds.)

Agility: Reflexes remain the same, but the exo-suit allows him to move his arms faster and with more force, almost quadruple his normal speed.

Durability: The suit doesn't change his natural durability, though it is made of titanium and would easily repel a bullet if he was lucky enough to be hit in one of the structural pieces.

Endurance: The suit increases his endurance, though its relatively short battery life of six hours does put a cap on the amount of time he can spend using it.

Senses: Jok has the naturally powerful eyesight of the Ramor which is almost half again better than a humans, especially in low light conditions. Other than that his senses are similar to any humans, save for his pain tolerance is higher due to his controversial 'training'.

Skills: After undergoing the three year intensive training program Jok has become the perfect soldier, unquestioning of his orders regardless of their brutality, capable of making tactical decisions, and incredibly proficient with his tools of the trade.
Survival
Basic Weapons
Advanced Weapons
Demolitions
Bomb Defusal
Basic Combat
Advanced Combat
Psychological Warfare
Guerrilla Tactics
Advanced Driving Course
Parkour
Intermediate Combat First-Aid
Hand to Hand combat, most similar to Krav Maga and Judo
Engineering
Electronics
Improvised munitions

Equipment (all weapons are roughly similar to modern day equivalents in stats not included)

ALICE Pack: Specially modified for quick movement and access on covert operations, Jok is none-the-less equipped with what is most like the modern day ALICE pack. It's fastened outside his Exo-Suit.

Weaponry: Jok's load out is dependent on a mission, he has a small armoury from which he can choose to bring a reasonable amount of weaponry into the field. If there is no Intel on the mission or objective then he will bring a random assortment of weaponry from each category to suit different possible scenarios. His weapon choices are as followed.

Mainline weaponry

KG20 Carbine Assault Rifle: Weighing around 4kg with a full magazine of 30 rounds, with an adjustable stock that drops the length from 35" to 31" the KG20 fires 5.56mm rounds and is roughly equitable in terms of power and velocity to the M4 Carbine. It also features an under-barrel grenade launcher which can fire a single 40mm fragmentation grenade. Maximum ammo, four magazines.

SOP Submachine Gun: Only 2.5kg in weight and 26" in length with an integrated silencer, the SOP submachine gun fires 7.62 rounds and has an effective range of around 100 meters. Maximum ammo, four magazines.

Man-portable explosive ordinance

Hazard MGL: 5kg six-shot revolver-type grenade launcher that can be loaded with HE, HEAT, chemical and pyrotechnic 40mm rounds. It has a short stubby design and can effectively fire up to 300 meters at roughly three rounds per second. It fires rounds at a velocity of about 70 meters per second. Maximum ammo, six HE, two of each special round type on an ammo belt.

Leaper Shoulder-Launched Assault Weapon: Weighing a hefty 15kg means this rocket launcher is only really suitable when Jok's suited up. Fires 150mm warhead with optional laser guidance system. One shot and it's abandoned, similar to the MBT LAW.

Anti-Personnel Mine: Similar in essence to the M18 Claymore mine, max capacity of two. Can be activated by laser detection, trip wire, or remote detonation.

36Rde Anti-personnel grenades: Fragmentation grenades with motion sensor technology, designed to be thrown into a hot zone where they remain undetonated until triggered either by the user's kill-switch or when a large body (roughly human sized) moves into the kill radius of five feet. Similar in detonation strength to an ordinary fragmentation grenade. Capacity of three.

Smoke Grenades: Essentially exactly what they sound like, similar to modern day equivalent. Max capacity, two.

RE20: Similar in essence to modern day C4 explosives, small satchels which can be adjusted to become adhesive and stick to surfaces. They are detonated remotely by trigger. Maximum of two.

Side Arms

Hedson Pistol: 9mm pistol, fairly basic, 12 round magazine, couple extra mags, can be outfitted with a silencer.

Jackhammer Revolver: 6 shot revolver, 50. rounds. Extra 6 rounds.

14" combat knife

Medi-Kit: All special operatives of the Grent republic are authorised with two multi-purpose stim-packs, administered by injection, the chemical stops bleeding, provides a boost of adrenaline to combat pain, and contains a powerful anti-toxin designed to reduce the effects of poisons and toxins.

Armour: Jok is always wearing full camouflaged combat gear on missions, including a durable weave vest similar though slightly more effective than modern day Kevlar. He also tends to wear a ballistic face mask with built in air filtration technology and a lightweight helmet with adjustable night vision goggles.

Exo-Suit: The most innovative piece of equipment designed by Ramor military service for infantrymen. The Exo-suit is a external titanium alloy support-suit designed to reinforce the user's muscular strength, making them faster, more durable, able to hit harder and lift more. It requires a ten minute operation in base conditions to attach the suit to the operator, and cannot be effectively removed without basic surgical tools. It's lightweight, roughly ten kg all around, and makes only a slight amount of sound as the structure moves. It's powered by hydrogen batteries attached to the back of the suit just above the tail bone. It can be powered down when not in use and moved using ones own strength, with only a slight encumbrance. It has a life of two hours operational, which is the trade off for having highly volatile batteries because they must be encased in the titanium shell and can't be easily replaced. The wiring is protected by the titanium shell, and the feet and knuckles of the operator are also protected allowing for the use of more powerful melee attacks.

Backstory: Jok is an infantry-man and demolitions specialist in the Grent republic's army. Due to the unique nature of his controversial training (for which he was volunteered by his orphanage) he is unquestioning of his orders and a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield.

[User]
Jok exited the cave slowly, checking his corners out of sheer habit, the submachine gun in his hands cutting an invisible line across the terrain, ready to unleash hell with only a slight pressure of his finger. He scowled as he thought of that, tests conducted early on in his mission to this strange anomaly had revealed that bullet physics were not what they were on his home planet, so he couldn't be confident in his weapon. He didn't seem all that formidable at first glance, barely topping five foot with a very human look about him, save his large eyes. He had olive skin, like someone from the Mediterranean, and tattoos adorning his arms. However, few of these traits were visible behind his fairly complete tactical gear, kevlar vest and ballistic face mask with a spec-ops combat helmet, he was even wearing an Alice pack on his back and all manner of weaponry adorning his body.

However, even these traits of a well-equipped soldier would likely be outweighed by one outward trait. His body was surrounded by metallic structures that followed his joints, the Ramor exo-suit. It allowed him to hit harder, run faster, jump higher and essentially be the best a soldier could be. It barely made a sound as he moved, only a slight rushing like air escaping an inflatable or the breath of the wind. He thought back to his equipment, quickly running through his full load out, picked up from his supply cache at OL40.

SOP Submachine Gun, three magazines.
Hazard MGL, six HE rounds, three chemical, three heat rounds carried on an ammunition belt around his chest.
36Rde Anti-personnel grenades, two on his ammunition belt, one in his pack.
Smoke Grenades: One on his belt.
RE20 Explosive: One in his pack.
Finally a Jackhammer Revolver with six extra rounds and his combat knife equipped to his right and left hip respectively.

He also carried his med-kit in his Alice Pack, but this didn't run through his mind as he rarely ever needed it, it was time to focus on the mission. By his reckoning he had entered the island from the north east. Time to search and destroy.

[Assistant]
The nature of tournaments was not one that could be described easily to a priestess who was the head of the military arm of her religion, but explanation or no she had been sent to participate and participate she would. Her first step on the island was in the forest to the north east, just by a river, and she wasted no time by preparing her Megumi no Fuujin immediately – without this crucial technique, much of her combat ability was rendered null and she was vulnerable to threats that she would not be when within the embrace of the Wind God.

It was safe to assume that she was not alone on the island, but a cursory glance around reminded Touho that the island was significantly larger than she had imagined her arena would be – her opponent could be nearby, but that was highly unlikely, and it was likely for the best if she stayed to the shadows until such a point as she could identify them.

Content to wait, Touho floated to the top of the nearby canopy – far enough back that the winds she commanded would not disturb the trees enough to give her position away and low enough down that seeing her would require some degree of searching. Her scope of vision was not immense as a compromise, but she would rather consider herself safe from an ambush than have perfect information.

It was not the way of the Windspeakers to hide, but measures had to be taken. Touho kept herself vigilant and prepared, awaiting some sign that her opponent was indeed on the island and was searching for her. It was only a matter of time, after all.

[User]
Jok looked around for a moment more and then moved swiftly away from the relative safety of the cave mouth, his steps carefully placed to avoid snapping twigs and making noise disturbing other detritus. He moved by his reckoning south east in relation to the cave entrance, his carefully quiet but also impressively fast pace driving him to the very edge of the terrain in but a few moments. He stopped then, looking both directions, before preparing to circle the island from the outside of the island, moving steadily clockwise. It made sense to secure the perimeter with his back to impassable terrain, though he kept a safe distance of about ten feet from the cliffside. This place was like nothing he had seen before, he wasn't taking anything for granted.

Checking behind himself often he began his quick and careful scouting operation around the outside of the island, moving carefully across an open section of terrain and passing a stone pillar. He didn't like moving out in the open like that, but there was little other choice that the environment permitted him.

He slowed his pace as he reached another section of forest and he slowly merged into the foliage, watching the space he had traversed carefully to scout for anyone pursuing him. If he had made it this far unscathed he had a significant advantage if his opponent had the drop on him, though he had no way of knowing.


[System]
Age: 18

Gender: Female

Race: Human

Appearance: Her Armor. Juliana stands at 5'7" and has a smaller bust than in the picture XD. Also when not wearing her armor, wears clothing much more suitable for nobles like dresses and such.

Personality: Her loyalty to her family is absolute and she would do nearly anything to bring honor to their name. She is also a firm believer in the Iron Rose Knight's duty to protect and serve. The weak are to be protected and it is the strong's duty to be defenders; therefore, when someone who is weak is trying to protect the results can be disastrous. This belief makes Juliana feel that the inexperienced Fanilly is unfit to be captain and so someone more suited to the task should take her place, like herself.

Raised in a noble household Juliana knows the art of 'masks' yet is not afraid to let her feelings be known. Her distain for the old traditional way of choosing a captain is hardly veiled, but she will not let those feelings get in the way of her knightly duties. She can seem full of herself at times but she genuinely wants what is best for her country and wants to protect people with all her heart.

Brief Backstory: Juliana was born to the noble household of Silvern, a very prominent family in Thaln. Their noble 'stock' grew after the rebellion of Phoran Cal as they were one of the greatest supporters of the Iron Rose Knights. The Silvern household has kept its affairs close to the Iron Rose Knights and while they support the knights fully, they also are very staunch supporters for doing away with the old tradition of choosing the captain from young girls born under a full moon.

Her family had planned to give birth to her under a full moon but due to some complications in birth she was born as the moon started waning again. The idea had been to get a girl into the position first; making it rather easy to change the system from within, but this was not to be the case. Still her parents were not about to give up and so started to raise her up to be the next captain despite the fact that by tradition she was no longer eligible for the position.

Raised with the best tutors nobles could buy, Juliana was molded into a great warrior and noble. Being devout followers of Mayon Juliana found herself gravitating toward the paladins of Mayon and incorporated their more defensive type battle style into her own. While her training was focused on the battlefield she did not neglect her noble daughter duties and is accomplished in the political field as well. Her parents made sure to give their daughter the opportunity to grow socially as well so as to gather favor with the other nobles to strengthen her position.

Equipment: Juliana wears ornamented plate armor with chainmail mesh underneath to increase mobility and reduce friction. Her standard equipment is a large shield in her left and a long sword in her right

Skills: Juliana has been taught the traditional art of sword and shield with an emphasis being on using the shield effectively to punish her opponents while defending herself. Bashing, parrying, or even just pushing her opponent with her large shield are integral parts of her training then using her sword to finish off her opponent.

Outside of combat she is an accomplished dancer, socialite, and rider. Essentially skills designed to make her look like the ideal noblewoman and captain material.

[User]
That was disappointing. There was no other way to put the way that bout had ended, though with the number of people involved it was inevitable that he would have been brought down so easily. The battlefield never allows for a fight to be savoured. To be sent to hunt something down alone once again...

The church seemed to feel no need to call on Tyaethe for any other obligations and so she shoved it to the back of her mind, taking stock of the battle winding down. Someone had put the tree out, interestingly, which meant they might have proper magical support in the future rather than these tricks. To make sure any bandits still fighting on the other side of the trunk realised how little chance they had, the undead knelt and grasped the knight slayer's body, hefting it before shunting it to the other side of the tree. They could pick it up in a few minutes if Fanilly wanted to take proof.

One of the newcomers seemed to have shielded the captain from the view. A strange choice but, with the number of people cut in two today, probably not an unwelcome one. Tyaethe continued to emulate a statue and watched her for some reason come over. The grey-armoured knight twitched at the unnecessary battlefield flirting... but the healing was interesting. Priestess training? Maybe the order wasn't entirely devoid of the faithful after all.

Now that things were finished, however...

"Captain, I would prefer it if you did not send me to a separate flank in future. Had this bandit been armoured..."

[Assistant]
Marianne Delacroix

Prior to the fall...

Having seen her chance as Sir Garrett and Dame Tyaethe reengaged with the blood-lusting boar of a man Jeremiah, Marianne cocked back her arm and took her proper casting stance as she truly finished her incantation.

"In the Goddess Reon's name, I pray!
Steady my hand!
Let my aim be true!
May my enemies fall before me!

Lightning-bolt Javelin!"

With all of her might she launched the mighty spear. With another explosive blast that mimicked a thunderclap heralding its flight, the spear of light screamed and screeched through the air as it rocketed towards Jeremiah like a furious demon. The aftershock leaving behind a trail of disrupted winds that threatened to blow Marianne off of the tree that she knelt on and forcing her eyes shut. Her long black hair flapping and fluttering in the wake of the spell. Opening her eyes at the exact moment the spell found its mark, she felt a burden lift off of her shoulders. With a relieved sigh, beads of sweat freely dripped from her as her vision began to swim.

After the fall...

With trembling hands, Marianne very carefully tugged her 'white' gloves back over her fingers. Reattaching the white veil to her hair as sparkles of electricity continued to arc from her body, wreathing her figure in a semi-protective barrier. Breathing ragged and heavy, her vision faded in and out more and more as the spell had drained much of her mana. Her head pounded painfully as the world around her spun. She should've known better than to cast that spell after an extended engagement with the bandit forces. As black shadows edged the peripherals of her sight, Marianne reached out to grab at her sword to use as a tool to help steady herself on the tree. Looking up in the distance, she heard a female voice call out to her but she couldn't make out the words clearly through the fog and haze of her muddled senses. Though, Sir Tiral was closer and she was able to somewhat hear him more clearly. Turning her head to see his offered hand, she smiled slightly and reached out to take his hand.

Her breath left her and her eyes shut closed as she fainted.
Falling off of the tree and straight into Sir Tiral.
Body still crackling and snapping with remnant arcs of lightning.

@AtomicNut

[User]
Tiral's eyes widened momentarily in shock as he noticed the young woman beginning to collapse. Mana exhaustion...?
Well, there was no other logical explanation, now was there?
Chastising himself for even wasting a moment more, though, the ice mage bit his lip and moved over to catch the falling knight in his arms rather than with just a single hand. Regardless of his state being not too far off from Marianne's own, it wasn't as if he could allow needless injury to happen right in front of him. Needless to say, he wasn't quite prepared for what was to come.

Almost as if some omnipotent being was having their fun with him, the residual electricity that he had been seeing remnants of had NOT, in fact, dissipated. With his arms now conducting the rest of the energy, it took only the slightest of contact with his arms before Tiral felt an intense pain coursing through his body. To say nothing of the water in the area making things any less painful, but with his strength as it was it would be a miracle if it didn't cause him to scream. Only by forcing out a last bit of willpower did the mage keep his voice in check, and though his legs staggered under the increased weight (he REALLY wasn't hit for any sort of heavy-lifting!), he had to at least put the girl down gently.

"Ah... Mana exhaustion. Only reason why I didn't rush into battle sooner. That spell... Too inefficient in terms of consumption and incantation time. Unless she trims that thing down, it'll leave her a sitting duck in the future..." he grumbled, carefully leaning Marianne's unconscious body against the frozen log before slumping down himself. He hadn't a clue how to speed up the recovery process, but... Well, time healed all wounds, right?

"...Yeah. Just gonna... Sit here a bit until they call me up. Got enough just in case we need some emergency barriers, so I'm not completely dead weight... Yet," he stated quietly to himself, as if justifying his actions now. "She'll be awake in time for us to get out of here. Hopefully. I'm not strong enough to carry her back..."

With a sigh, Tiral flicked his dagger to free it of any remaining water before slipping it back into its usual place. Cleanup wouldn't take too long, given how everything had turned out...

[Assistant]
Fanilly didn't see what happened. Her view was entirely taken up by Sult, who had guarded her at first, then covered her eyes. Initially, Fanilly didn't understand why. What had happened? Besides, she was the Captain of the Iron Rose Knights. To shy away from the deaths of those who hurt the innocent... it wasn't something such a person should do, was it? And then, after speaking about giving a report, Sult released her.

"I... very well..."

Fanilly had heard the thunderclap, but hadn't realized what had caused it until she saw the aftermath. The gaping hole that pierced clear through Jeremiah's body was still smoking, even as Tyaethe lifted the corpse up and tossed it over the log, to show the bandits what had become of their leader.

Moments later, any of them that remained fighting were in their knees in surrender. Fanilly took a deep breath. It had quickly become clear to her what had happened here. On their own, the bandits were weak and unskilled. But with Jeremiah as their leader, he had bolstered their wills. The whole time all he thought of was killing the Iron Rose Knights, however, and when he finally had a chance at his goal he abandoned them to whatever fate they would meet.

In the end, however, he perished at the hands of the order he had sought to destroy.

As she turned to give a report, she heard Tyaethe tell her not to send her away again.

"... I am sorry, but I had believed your expertise would lead your flank to victory," she said, after a moment's pause. The memory of Jeremiah's hand around her through was still in her mind. But for now she had another duty to fulfill.

Striding towards the now-frozen log, she spotted one of the areas that had melted. Placing her hands upon it, she pulled herself up and got her feet under herself, standing where she could be seen fully.

"We have met victory. These criminals have either been slain, or subdued, and will never hurt another innocent again," she began, "Well done, Iron Roses. But first..."

She glanced towards the faint Marianne, and the clearly-hurt and worn out Tiral.

"I need a report from each flank leader I have not already spoken to, and we must arrange transport for the wounded in order to return home."

Fanilly knew at least one soldier had died, but she could not be certain if any others hand. She felt a pang of sorrow at the thought of the man who had been sliced in half, and the potential fates of others if they had perished, but felt hopeful that Jeremiah's victim was the only casualty. No-one aligned with the Roses should have died here, but hopefully it was only one man. Especially among the knights.

[User]
Julianna was quite taken aback when she felt a hand on her shoulder as well as the harsh criticism that followed.

"You are not captain yet, nor are you of a leadership position within the Order or this battlefield. Do not go issuing commands as if any of these things are the case."

Juliana looked back and realized who the man was quite quickly, Iowerth Rhydderch, a noble from a much older house than her own though perhaps not as influential at this point in time. In any event he was certainly not someone to ignore. At first Julianna felt quite angry at this chastisement but then he continued with some good advice.

"It would be wisest not to show your ambition too openly before you've gained more support."

He was right of course, she grudgingly admitted to herself and thankfully do to her training had managed to remain calm throughout the entire talk. She took a breathe to calm herself, this was acting ratherly foolishly at the moment; although in her defense most of the 'leaders' at the moment had been occupied so she was just temporarily filling the role until they could take over. Still, it was the prudent course of action to step back in line for now.

Julianna nodded in acknowledgement and replied quietly, "You are right of course, it seems I forgot myself during this course of events." Julianna rebuked herself internally for acting so out of line, despite her experience in court and other minor battlefields she had let the adrenaline get to her and effect her judgement. Despite the nastiness of having been rebuked she was grateful for the man reminding her of her ultimate goal, and what was needed to obtain it.

Having said her peace she made sure not to say anymore as she returned to just being a knight of the order as the battle was being wound up. A captain had to be able to take criticism with poise and respect after all. A lesson was learned that Julianna was sure to not forget again.

"Obey flags of surrender! No quarter to the rest!"

Came the man's voice which had the power of a noble's command to it. At this point things were pretty much over and before long everyone was starting to come back together as Jeremiah was killed by some pretty flashy magic, a pity he couldn't be captured but it couldn't be helped.

The day was won, now it was just the aftermath to deal with.


[System]
Brigan Vorche
Height: 180 cm ★ Weight: 70 kg ★ Age: 28 years old ★ Hair Color: Brown ★ Eye Color: Brown

"One part brave, three parts fool!" - Christopher Paolini

Attributes
Gender: Male
Age: 28 Years Old
Specialty: Weapon Specialist

Characteristics

Weapon Skill: 35 (30+5)
Ballistic Skill: 49 (31+5+3+10)
Strength: 32
Toughness: 33
Agility: 34 (31+3)
Intelligence: 32
Perception: 30
Willpower: 38 (35+3)
Fellowship: 21 (24-3)

Wounds: 9/9
Fate Points: 1
Insanity: 0/100
Corruption: 0/100
Current XP: 0/600

Theme

[User]
Phillip Capet

4 Minutes

Phillip shook incessantly as he turned the cap of a pill bottle, his hand darted into the bottle and took out a white pill which he popped into his scarred lips. He swallowed it in no time and had grabbed a second, then a third, then a forth and a fifth and so forth. His body turned into a icy warmth until he felt a irritating numbing nothing. sweat poured down his skin and soaked the pasty white bandages covering them but with every pill he popped into his mouth he only shook more and more. only for it to be ripped clean out of his hand. Phillip turned his head to see his "companion" Maurice glaring at him with his perfect blue eyes. "Maurice the pure, Maurice the clean and always right", Phillip couldn't help but feel a rising hate, "why couldn't Maurice be wearing bandages", Phillip thought, after all Phillip went through it seemed unfair that Maurice could fight for years and not get a single scratch where Phillip get's pancaked in his first drop.

I think you've had enough you heathen Maurice scowled with his pretty little voice, he looked like he was ready to leap out of his chair and strangle Phillip for the sin of taking a pill or ten, then suddenly Maurice burst into laughter, he swung over and caught his breath I'm sorry brother the look on your face was so funny Maurice apologized through ragged breath, while what he said sounded like a joke it was actually a insult, Phillip's face was disfigured and resembled a fucked up puzzle-piece of scars and bruises "Just you laugh, you'll get your reward in time" Phillip thought smug in the satisfaction that Maurice will inevitably die. Phillip laughed at the thought of it, Maurice expected some kind of reward for his piety, some beautiful afterlife in a golden house staffed by golden women. But Phillip knew that was false for he had seen death with his own eyes, and he saw nothing but black. To an outsider the two would look like friend's, when in reality both of them wished the other dead. Given enough time it was likely that one or the other would die of "accidental misfire".

Phillip began to count every second, breathed heavily, silently cursing that Maurice had taken his only source of comfort for the coming drop of death.

[Assistant]
Jayne tapped the butt of her service issue shotgun impatiently. Three minutes out from drop and she was stuck with a 'Throne be damned' pea shooter as protection. After training for so long with the many and varied 'real' weapons her regiment had access to the simplicity that was the combat shotgun felt absuredly light and fragile in her hands. Like it would break over the first skull she would try and crack.

She missed the familiar and comforting weight of her stubber. The muscle jarring 'chug chug chug' of high calibre fire.... Anything less than a 50 calibre round just didn't have the same satisfaction when pulling the trigger. Her thickly muscled arm flexed as it gripped the overhead handle, keeping her steady as the Valkyrie pitched sharply to the left then levelled off again. She was proud of her physique. One of the strongest soldiers in the regiment bar none. And she would (and did) happily take opportunities to prove that honour on and off the battlefield.

Feeling a momentary press on her shoulder, Jayne knew that Geralt was fiddling with his grave-shute straps. He was a good kid, strong as a grox which was great in a heavy weapons teammate. But barely eight months out of his cozy PDF tour back in Elysia, the pressure of a true, honest to god battle was beginning to mount. And the tell tale giveaway of a green recruit was fiddling with their safety equipment. Checking and rechecking it a hundred times over again. Jayne hoped to see him through this fight and plenty more. He defiantly had a good future with the guard once he got some real experience under his belt. And a good year of routine and repetition of drops like this should see those nervous tell-tales become less and less common.

Jayne would never admit to feeling anything of the sort, Even to herself. Despite the fact that the ever familiar flutter in her stomach, that dull gut feeling that combined the worst parts of a wild imagination and a tinge of uncertainty and dread that built up before every combat drop. That was the worst part about a combat jump, the waiting before hand always felt ten times longer a wait than it really was. And the mind hand all that time to wander. It was easy for such an unoccupied mind to slip into imaginings of death and catastrophic injury.

Even if she refused to show the signs, her brain was still acutely aware that she was about to willingly leap out of a moving aircraft, some hundred or thousands of kilometers off the ground and dive headlong towards any number of unknown dangers that could be waiting for them on the ground. To say nothing of the likely hood of being shot out of the sky during the jump by some flak shell or stray round from some heretics autogun. Her brain was also aware that this was a very, very, very, very stupid thing for any human to willingly do. And yet somehow there were entire regiments worth of people just that stupid. And she was one of them.

Gripping the over hand rail tighter she fought to regain control of her thoughts. Better to clear the mind and think of nothing than continue down that thought path.

[User]
@Warborn123 @Ollumhammersong @Nohbdy

In the Valkyrie's cockpit, separated from the passengers, the pilot and co-pilot fought to keep the craft airborne. Even wearing photo-visors, visibility outside was virtually nil through the torrent of rain. They had kept their eyes glued to the glowing readouts and runes in front of them, relying on the precious data since first hitting the storm. Then, unexpectedly, they all went dark. The dozens of small blips denoting other Valkyries flying around them vanished, the runes displaying altitude and speed showed nothing. And, as if the Emperor had truly forsaken them, the first flak shells tore through the air like lightning.

The co-pilot squeezed his eyes closed and began praying. The pilot tightened his grip on the controls and pushed forward with grim determination. For three minutes they limped through the storm of tracers and shrapnel streaking upwards, battered about by the wind and exploding anti-aircraft fire. The comfort of the passengers was the least of their concerns, but they were Elysians after all, they would survive.

---

"One minute!" Sergeant Felder shouts over the relentless pounding of flak and gunfire outside, glancing at his chrono again. "Check your kit and start praying."

Blood was oozing down the sergeant's face now from his nose colliding with the bulkhead during one of the dropship's evasive maneuvers. He wipes it with his free hand, smearing it more than anything, and secures the respirator that had been hanging freely from his helmet, sealing it in place.

A loud bang rocks the craft moments later and shrapnel pings off the hull. The Valkyrie lurches to one side suddenly, throwing you all off balance and slamming the sergeant shoulder-first into the hull again before it slowly rights itself, metal groaning with the effort. At the rear of the cabin, the ramp unseals with a nearly inaudible hiss and begins to lower. A wall of cold air, rain, and deafeningly loud noise surges into the cabin to meet you. Peering out, you see the strieking light of large-calibre tracer rounds and the flashes of detonating flak shells cutting through the air in the thousands. Not far behind, you see an explosion illuminate the dull shape of another Valkyrie for a brief moment as it is engulfed in flame and tumbles downwards, trailing fire before disappearing below you.

"Now or never! Go!" Felder shouts over his micro-bead and waves you towards the open hatch.

Make an Ordinary [+10] Operate (Aeronautica) or Difficult [-10] Agility Test to leap from the craft and safely operate your grav-chutes.

[Assistant]
The numb freeze of Phillip's painkillers slowly faded away as Phillip anxiously ripped a respirator out of his bag and slapped it on his face. His breath steadily rose faster and faster as the valkyrie swerved to the right, causing him to violently lurch forward from his chair, choking on his own restraints. His eyes spotted the open hatch, with it's deep blue void, it was as if the sky was calling to him.

Phillip began to breath faster and faster and faster. He was practically engulfed in sweat, he was perfectly content with sitting in the Valkyrie. It wasn't the violent bloody death that scared Phillip. Surviving the fall was what truly scared Phillip. The last time he had jumped off a Valkyrie he had been baked in pain for a month, it was torture. at least with death he wouldn't have to suffer. But he had to jump. he had no choice.

Phillip unstrapped his chair and prepared himself to jump, he stared down the gaping maw of the hatch. The clouds obscured the sky and the ground was nowhere near sight. Then at that moment Phillip froze up. He thought about the state his corpse would be in, he was so high in the air that it was likely his arms would break off, his body would explode violently as it hit the ground, And it would be painful.

Maurice was standing right behind Phillip, unlike Phillip Maurice had been calm the entire time. He shoved Phillip, sending him spiraling down the hatch See you at the bottom Heathen! He yelled and then jumped down after him, laughing all the way. After falling for a while Maurice had stabilized himself using the Grav-Chute, thus ensuring him a safe way down.

Phillip fell down past the cloud, letting out a raspy scream, He frantically fumbled for the button of his grav-chute and slammed the button. Then with a sudden stop he hung in the air, slowly descending to the bottom. Phillip breathed in the air of his respirator. Letting it reach his lungs and exhaled it out of his mouth. He was alive.

Operate Aeronautica test=12 Succeeded

[User]
Current Location: Valkyrie Dropship - Interacting With: Kyllan

One minute.

It was almost time for the combat drop. The sergeant ordered the squad to check their kit and say their final prayers to the Emperor, and so Brigan did. The trooper checked over his shotgun, ensuring the shells were in reach and safely secured lest they fall out mid-drop. Shotgun shells were at least half the size of one laspack, and Brigan didn't want to fuck himself over if he couldn't get to his lasgun in time. Once Brigan assured himself, the Valkyrie shook violently as it limped throughout the flak and anti-aircraft fire from down below.

Brigan jolted from his secured position, banging himself off the Valkyrie but nothing to the point as what their sergeant had felt from smashing his face into the bulkhead. However, Kyllan stumbled more than Brigan, struggling to keep himself upright to which brought a jest from Brigan. "C'mon, lad, it'll be worse if you can't keep yourself on your feet!" Brigan exclaimed as he affixed his helmet and respirator to his face. Bulky and uncomfortable for the many Elysians that wore it, but it was a better option than turning your head to mush on the way down.

The ramp soon opens, announced by a loud hissing noise and Sergeant Felder's orders. Brigan was ready to jump first, but the medic and his comrade had decided to be the lucky ones on this battlefield. Idiots... Brigan mumbled behind the respirator as Maurice shoved Phillip out of the Valkyrie, himself following shortly. They were Imperial Guard, and here they were goofing around by pushing each other out of a Valkyrie instead of jumping like they were trained to do.

Still, Brigan didn't have time to dwell on how foolish he thought the duo to be. He had a jump to accomplish, and soon it was Brigan's turn to jump. Standing on the edge of the ramp, Brigan vaulted downwards and fell at an alarming rate as he glided through the air in an attempt to avoid the nasty gunfire shooting upwards at the Elysians and their Valkyries. Once close to the ground, Brigan used the Grav-Chute to stabilize himself, landing safely down on the hive world.

Reaching for his combat shotgun, Brigan quickly checked to see if Kyllan had made the drop safely, to which he did. Making a quick sweep with his weapon, Brigan crouched behind some cover as he awaited for the others to land. Jumping through anti-aircraft fire was one matter, but being caught unaware was an entirely different matter. What had happened in the skies had shown the truth in that, and Brigan readied for himself for any odds that might be thrown against them now that they managed to land troops.

---

Operate (Aeronautica): 18 (Less than 44 - [34+10] = Succeeded)


[System]
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Arcana: Priestess
Equipment:Flower hair clip, good luck charm, Naginata (weapon once the shadows are introduced)
Skills: Flower arranging, Tea ceremony, Naginatajutsu
Appearance:
Senhime is of short height reaching five feet in total, Beyond that she tends to favor Kimono's and simple clothing rather than anything she is never seen without her flower hair clip.

Personality: She is very shy and demure but holds a iron will when it comes down to matters she cares about. While she is susceptible to praise and words of kindness as she has been known to blush and stutter in those situations. She is unwilling to let circumstances hurt the ones she cares about or distract her from her goals or missions.

Biography: Senhime grew up a sheltered life as the only daughter to her overly traditional parents she grew up learning things that was considered needed. This of course included "lady" like activities from hosting a tea ceremony to Flower arranging. Once she started school her life was pretty much the same though due to her upbringing and the sheer volumn of people she was overwhelmed but she refused to let it get to her as she was raised to not let distractions bother her. As she grew older one thing remained from both students and the teachers they grew to know her as a "yamato nadeshiko".

Persona
Name: Oichi
Arcana: Priestess
Appearance:

Reflects: Dark
Absorbs: None
Void: None
Resist: Light
Weak: Fire
skills:
Mudo, Dia, Recarm

[User]
"Huh?" Was the Miyamoto family's eldest son's initial, eloquent reply to hearing someone say his name. It took Daisuke a moment to locate whomever wanted to talk to him, and he couldn't help but cock his head slightly when he recognized the speaker. Jin, another student; not one he could say he knew very well, but he'd at least met them earlier in his education. They had something of a reputation. Not exceptionally unlike Daisuke's own, if he was honest. Still, the question was a bit of a surprise. And one it took him a second to decide how to answer. Still, he settled on an answer pretty quickly, all things considered.

"If you pick up an application, there's a box to list who referred you. Y'can get can application at the counter if you ask for one. Boss always needs another pair of hands. She'll probably ask me about you, and I can try and put in a good word. No guarantees she'll listen, but she's a good person. She'll probably give you a job."

[Assistant]
The faintest widening of her eyes was the only outward indication that Minori was surprised by the friendly response; truthfully, she had half-expected him to rebuff her greeting. Tsk tsk, she scolded herself, the corner of her mouth pulling upwards in a wry, lop-sided smile, Just goes to show that I shouldn't judge someone by their initial appearance. She would have thought that she of all people should have known that.

"I'm Minori Koizumi! It's nice to meet you too, Katsu...san?" She faltered as she tried to figure out the appropriate suffix to use, her brows creasing in thought. She knew that "-san" was always the most standard and polite way to go, particularly with people who she had just met, but damn if it didn't sound at least a little weird to her when she used it to refer to someone who was practically the same age. Then again, she wasn't one to disregard what made someone comfortable or uncomfortable, so she supposed that it was always best to play things safe.

Laughing at the offer, Minori adjusted her bag on her shoulder before tilting her head at him, one brow arched high. "Now why would either of us ever get funny looks?" she asked in an exaggerated tone that clearly betrayed her amusement, "We're just two normal looking high school students minding our own business, no? Nothing particularly remarkable or attention-catching about either of us."

"Buuuuut," she continued, "If you really don't mind the company, then I think I'll take your offer. I live in this direction anyways!"

[User] "Ah! It is a pleasure to meet you." Senhime said with a bow towards Takauji as always her first response was to bow towards the person that was introduced. "B-but to you a-a-nswer y-y-your question T-T-T-tomoda-s-s-san I-I was heading towards the roof." She answered stuttering a little bit towards the loud individual. She was getting used to him sure but as always she was uncomfortable around him. It both frustrated her and exhausted her that she was unable to speak normally to people like Tomoda-San. "W-w-where are y-y-you h-h-h-heading i-if I may ask?" She asked towards the odd duo one seemed like those people were constantly between two girls vying for his attention like in those comedic dramas form overseas or the light novels she secretly read. While with Tomoda he seemed the loud type one that was sort of odd to be found hanging around someone like Takauji-san if you kept up with the stereotypes.

[Assistant]
"What a ~coincidence~!" you trill in a delighted half-singsong tone, clapping your best buddy on the back even as he rises from a polite bow of his own. "We were headed that way too!"

This prompts a blink from Takauji, who turns his head to look at you funny. "Were we? I thought you were just bolting wherever..."

"Where's a dude to take a brother in need if not a safe location, my man?" you counter, folding your arms and adjusting your shades the infinitesimal amount to make them gleam in the overhead lights all cool-like. "Either of our houses'd be too obvious a hidey-hole, anyway."

The lone heir to the Aragaki name (one cousin aside) frowns. "And the roof isn't? Either way, I think we've more than evaded anyone who'd be 'chasing after me' if we can stop and talk like this."

His fingerquotes serve to belittle your concerns somewhat, but it's no skin off your back. Takauji Aragaki was living proof that a black hole could be placed upon the earth's surface without anything bad happening, and you weren't talking about his ability to pack away food or his attraction field for what you guessed would soon be a stupid number of girls in his class.

Nah, your Bro, whatever gods above may there be bless him, was the densest son-of-a-bitch you knew by a country mile. It was part of why he hated your Casanova jokes so much— they made no sense to the poor bastard.

In summation, he was living proof that the Large Hadron Collider would not, in fact, destroy the world any time soon.

"Nah, dude! Nobody ever thinks to look up, right? Same principle, man! It's like most of the girlies in the school, present company excluded of course, don't even know the roof exists! It's a perfect chill-out spot!"

Your reassurance is met with mixed emotions culminating in a shrug.

"If you say so, I guess. But hey, isn't Senhime-san going up there too? We shouldn't bother her, man."

That was a fair point your hedgehog-headed pugilist friend made, but...

"We can chill quietly. That'd work, right, Senhime-chan?"

You meet her with your winningest smile, despite it reminding most people of Bruce from Finding Nemo.

[User]
Hitoshi Katsu

Hitoshi gave a half shrug, casting a faint sideways smirk at the girl. Normal - yeah of course. Sure, why not?

"Sure I don't mind. Probably best if people don't walk alone these days anyway, y'know?"

Of course he had heard the rumors - who hadn't? To Hitoshi that was all they were: students gossiping and making mountains out of molehills. Whether he believed them or not though was irrelevant, the important part was that people should put their safety first. Even if people hadn't supposedly been 'disappearing', there were enough dark places and unpleasant people about to make safety something worth keeping in mind.

And even if he barely knew the girl, he wouldn't wish any harm on her.

"Besides, with you here? People might stop crossing the street to avoid me." He grinned a little to himself despite his own joke cutting just a little too close to home.

It was rare that anyone actually actively tried to avoid him - most barely recognised that boy that had caused them trouble in years gone by and the rest had generally come to tentatively accept that he wasn't the same any more, but there were still times that he had run-ins with those that still expected him to behave like some kind of thug. He supposed his appearance might be a part of the problem, but there were some things that just seemed destined not to change.

As they walked, he tried to get an idea of exactly who this girl was. Minori Koizumi she had called herself. Polite and obviously careful of her manners if the slight stutter over which honourific to use was anything to judge by. Pretty little thing - it was hard to believe that she didn't have anyone better to walk with. Maybe something had happened recently? He ought try and not say anything awkward, just to be safe.

"So, what you planning on doing this weekend" He asked as they made their way towards the district's center. It was a pretty flimsy line of conversation, but the best he could come up with on such short notice. Nice and noncommittal and neutral. "Got any plans? Looks like this weather's set in to last - though that might just be wishful thinking on my part."

[Assistant]
Jin listened to their classmate speak, and nodded once it was done. They really believed that Miyamoto-kun would help, for what it was worth. He wasn't the type to lie needlessly. "Thanks. I owe you. Free repair next time you need it, ok?" Jin flashed the boy a quick grin, and then nodded politely to the other girl. Then they were out the door and down the school halls. Jin was, technically, a member of the 'Going-Home Club', as they didn't have official membership in any club. If only there were a Mechanics Club! But Jin would probably have to start one personally, and honestly couldn't be bothered to do so.

Jin's feet moved on autopilot, leaving their mind wandering. Last night had been a rough one, more than usual. While sleep and Jin were never on good terms, lately, the nightmares had changed. Usually they involved snow and blood, but lately there had been eerie butterflies and a question about their name. A question that Jin couldn't answer, deep down. Was she truly Jin Takahashi? Or was that a cover for Jinayah Ifriti? Sure, they had the one of the best grades in English, because they actually spoke it, but didn't Jin speak Japanese just as well now? Who was this Jin, anyway? Boy? Girl? Jin or Ayah or who, exactly? It made Jin's head hurt to think about. All they truly hoped for was to get some manner of sleep. The hospital was not a convenient place for a new school year...

Stifling a wide yawn, Jin realized they'd made it outside. The Archery club was hard at work. Upon seeing one of the very few people they would call a 'friend', Jin plucked a spare bow from the rack and calmly joined Sakura's side.

"Sakura-chan." Pulling an arrow from the bucket, Jin notched it between fingers long-callused from street fighting, took a deep breath and let it fly. It hit the target quite to the left of center. Hitting a stationary target was easy, once you calculated mass, distance and force. Jin plucked a handful of arrows, tipping their head slightly to the side, mentally calculating. "How are you?"

[User]
"Oh, I see."

It was hard to tell whether Kimiko was speaking in reference to Daisuke or Jin, who had appeared like a whirlwind before Saitou had even been able to form an effective reply. She waved at them as they began quizzing Miyamoto on a potential future selling Kimiko potato-based sides to snack on for dinner, but had disappeared before the girl could effectively whip up a sales pitch for why this future was beneficial for all parties. Jin's in-and-out time was small enough that Kimiko could effectively fit the entire conversation within her wave, and she stood there for a second after they were gone. Just waving.

"That's okay, Daisuke-kun. I like your french fries best."

She spoke with an understanding smile and nodded her head gently. He always gave Kimiko more fries than anyone else who worked his shifts.

To be fair, they would all give her four orders, as ordered. But Daisuke's handfuls were the biggest, and he would sometimes smile wryly at her when she thanked him. It was quality customer service.

"I suppose I'll settle for ordering a burger tonight."

[Assistant]
NPC: Igarashi Iemasa

"Good afternoon, Matsumoto-kun! Heading off to Lit?"

Igarashi Iemasa, twenty-five years old, has a long-term long-distance relationship with his girlfriend in Hokkaido, sidled up next to the aforementioned longcoat-adorning teenager, a dazzling smile (one that, if you were super poetic, was almost comparable to the sun in its intensity) plastered onto his face. A satchel hung across his torso, its top almost over-filling with what appeared to be history essays (if the lined paper was any indication). It seemed that the young history teacher was off to get most of his obligations done before the weekend, and thus allow himself to relax and enjoy his hobbies.

Of course, this didn't mean he wasn't going to talk to his beloved students! Why, he was quite happy to converse with them rather than head directly home to his cozy little apartment. It was always good to know how the kids were doing. It was hip thing, wasn't it?

And Matsumoto-kun looked like a guy in real need of somebody to interact with.

[User] "I-I am sure that your company w-w-won't be a bother or discouraged" Senhime said as her cheeks lit up with a large blush as she smiled brightly at Tomoda-San it was not often people actually took her opinion into mind and that made it something special perhaps she could try interacting more with Tomoda as well? With a quick shake of that though from her head she focused back at the task at hand. "I-i-if w-w-w-e are h-h-h-heading towards the roof we best be off" She quickly added it was true to be honest but she was kind of curious despite being in the same class as Tomoda she knew little about him or anyone for that matter. Perhaps she could use a bit more interaction with her peer's like the teachers suggested.


[System]
Gender: Female

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anything else:

[User]
It was only obvious that the monstrous, gigantic skeleton was effectively an extension of the smaller figure. And thus their target became more obvious. Exactly where the sword was located wasn't immediately clear, which was all the more concerning, but Aleksiya was hardly about to allow herself to be shaken by something like that. No matter what, this monster would be destroyed.

The moisture in the air condensed, the crystal form of another spear of ice materializing over the diminutive vampire's right shoulder. Then another, over her left, and a third above her head.

"Hmph, I don't need an order to know that's the best idea," she said with a dismissive huff, even though she immediately moved in compliance with Giselle, targeting the smaller figure as she swiftly advanced. Certainly, she disliked the feeling of being commanded by someone who by all rights as her equal at most, but at the same time willfully ignoring a solid piece of strategy wasn't a show of her pride. It was a show of stupidity.

Eliminating the smaller figure that seemed to puppet the skeleton was, as of their current information, the most solid choice they had.

Her first ice spear hadn't managed to penetrate its armor. So, at closer range, from a better angle...

Sprinting around to the figure's right, her ice spears tilted towards it and launched all at once while Giselle attacked.

@ERode@Asuras@Psyker Landshark@Click This@Pyromania99

[Assistant]
Akyasha stood as her allies charged the smaller undead in full armor. "Hmm, I wonder if that's not. Much has changed since our death, has it not? Take caution, or don't. I suppose." The Cleric said, wondering if they could even hear her. As she looked out, she hadn't noticed anything more coming toward them, so if what her bats had said were true, and why would it not be, the sword was very likely here. Then, she turned her attention to the skeletons that had managed their way up to the top of the gate where she was. Well, not everyone needed to fight the big one. Someone needed to handle these smaller ones. Using blood magic, she formed two rather heavy looking maces in her hands. "Alright little ones. Go find a small meal of some wild ghouls or something while we clean up here." She said to her Gorebats before waving them off.

She just needed to clean up some skeletons. It shouldn't be a problem. They were only shambling toward them, not charging, but she didn't want them getting into the Cathedral proper at this moment. "I won't have you go much further than this." The Cleric hummed a small bit before leaping forward and bringing one mace down on a skeleton, bashing it to pieces, before bringing her other arm around to cleanly smashing the skull off of another then keeping up her assault on them since it needed to be taken care of anyway. It just meant her allies could focus on the bigger one if she focused down these smaller ones. Twelve shouldn't be much a problem for her, even in this weakened state. After all, she took care of much more when she didn't have as much blood as she did now.

[User]
Location: Alavaris
Cathedral
Landshark@Asuras@Erode@VitaVitaAR@Click This@Pyromania99

---

Illena acted swiftly. Shadows melded, moved, slithered between the undead horde that was oblivious to her assault. The armored paladin seemed unresponsive as she'd rush it, shadows bursting from the ground in the shape of a hound, fangs of shadow aiming for the armored undeads head.

It would be a surprise at least, that it would move so swiftly.

Just before the fangs would meet its head, the armored humanoid jerked its entire body around, an armored hand grasping at the shadows and with a mighty swing, slammed the shadowy wolf back into the old stone below, its hands lighting up with faint remnants of holy power, completely dissipating the shadows.

This did not stop Aleksiya's spears, though, as they'd slam into the armor of the paladin. The undead hissed, groaning as one spear pierced its armor and quickly, jerkingly turn towards Aleksiya just in time to see Giselle lashing out with her weapon. With a growl, it'd raise its hands and with fading holy power it'd deflect the blade with its hands, leaving the bloody weapon lightly corroded and the paladins own hands with a deep cut. This was followed by it lunging forwards, attempting to grapple Giselle as it'd reach for her weapon.

Above, Dragan launched himself towards the skeletal giants arm. Warhammer met bone, the force of the impact enough to cause some of the ancient bones to crack, but not enough to completely break the force completely as Dragan would be finding himself being slammed back into the ground, engaged in a small contest of strength as the skeletons' weight bore down on him. Unless he did something, he'd likely be crushed as it'd raise its arm for a second smackdown.

Akyasha's gorebats nodded, swiftly flying away from the battle. No doubt they would return soon enough, gorged and full of blood and ready for their duty of being either used as sacrificial pawns or aiding the others with small boons of blood. For now though, she'd engage those that had made it to atop the wall. Bloody maces smashing and crushing their bones. With dragan's wraiths still supporting her, this should quickly make short work of the undead.

[Assistant]
@Psyker Landshark@Pyromania99@Click This@VitaVitaAR@Rune_Alchemist

Dissipation?

No.

To grab at shadows was to grab at air: one could close their hands over a form that looks so real, only to pass through nothing. Ilena writhed beneath the undead paladin's grasp, splattering like paint against the ground before the burst of holy light chased those congealed shadows away. To presume that darkness could be slain by light was foolish. They moved at equal speeds, forever chasing after one another, and though her form was broken, to return once more was as simple as molding mud back together. As the paladin turned, lunging towards Giselle, the black mud rose out of his own shadows. Limbs, too long to be of humanoid nature, wrapped around his, wrenching joints backwards to expose the paladin's head and chest.

If he wished for Giselle's blade so dearly, then let him have it.

Amethyst eyes emerged within the nightmarish silhouette and narrowed in their assent.

[User]
Luna Emeraltide

With her woven disorder spread across the battlefield, Luna turned then to more directed and immediate defensive measures. Her comrades locked in combat needed more specific aid, and in the moments that the skeletal beast began lifting its massive hand to crush Dragan, she saw opportunity for exactly that.

Where song wove broadly, her eyes focused upon singular targets. Luna's gaze became as piercing spears, and with it ethereal chains pulled by the inertia of weighted points. Manifesting above the skeleton's arm, several chains descended and weaved through ulna and radius. Clamoring and clanking beset the air as the magical metal swung wide and circular, wrapping and coiling the forearm. By her will, Luna sought to bind the slamming arm, and stop it short of collapsing upon Dragan.

Not content with staying there upon the walls in this hectic moment, Luna dropped down to the others, and put in her comparatively meager strength to dispatch the rank and file of the battle. Her silver sabre drawn, she took to striking gracefully, fluidly, at the skeletal and zombified minions. Though pitiful, any amount of breathing room for the others who were engaged with far more important targets, could go a long way.

[Assistant]
Giselle de FarryUndead Princess, de Farry

---

Giselle hadn't counted on the paladin seizing the blade of her scythe entirely, nor did she expect the metallic construction of her weapon to corrode. She allowed herself a small grimace before she reacted. If her constructs, even once converted from blood could still be tainted by holy light, then she was weak indeed. Even if so, that didn't matter now, when her compatriots helped her take the paladin to task around her.

She took care to pull back, ripping the blade of her scythe from its hands with a twist, doing nasty things to the paladin's hands with its cutting edge, as Aleksiya's spears and Dragan's war hammer did equally devastating damage to the undead beings. Yet they still lived. The white-haired vampire reengaged the paladin as he lunged towards her, just as Illena's nightmarish shadows began to wrap around him, restraining him and giving Giselle the perfect opening to deal a crippling blow to the undead paladin.

She would thank her later. For now, she would simply crash down upon its exposed head and chest with a downwards slash of her scythe. If she were given the opportunity, she would twist the weapon immediately upwards for a combo, before kicking herself away to reassess the situation. Giselle had noted Dragan's temporary distress, but she knew enough of the vampire lord to be confident in his recovery.

[User]
Dragan Meszaros

Dragan's previous ingestion of blood hadn't restored as much strength as he'd thought it would. Otherwise, his strike would have utterly shattered the giant skeleton's arm. Instead, Dragan found himself straining against the bastard as said arm bore down on him. He could still get himself out of this predicament, but it would sap a good portion of his strength to muster up the magics required.

Fortunately for Dragan and his blood pool, Luna's chains pulled the skeleton's arm off of him, and Dragan's helm tilted in her direction before dipping slightly as thanks. He picked himself back up and hefted his warhammer, taking a moment to send yet more mental commands to his undead even as he began to focus on the fight before him.

It seemed Ilena and Giselle already had their assaults under way, and Dragan charged forward to join them, following up on their attacks. As Giselle kicked off of the undead paladin, Dragan leapt onto it, bringing his hammer down onto its exposed and weakened chest with as much force as he could muster. Hopefully this time, his target would shatter after having received blows beforehand.

[Assistant]
Akyasha had finished cleaning up the skeletons on the stairway up to where they were on the gate. Good. Still, there were plenty of the buggers left to clean up. The others seemed to have the big enemy under control. She couldn't expect Dragan to keep absolute authority on the battlefield with his command over the lesser undead, especially not whilst their powers were diminished and doubly so while fighting that monstrosity at the moment. Instead, she would just clear the field of hostiles. This was what she had always done, though she doesn't have her divine creatures of Ichor to assist at the moment.

With the tight space behind her as she stepped down to the ground level, she changed the shape of her Blood Weapon from the two heavy maces into one great-axe as she charged into the fray where Dragan's forces were fighting. She made a powerful leap into the obvious group of enemies, landing the axehead down on some poor skeleton. After recovering from the recoil of slamming into the ground, she hefted the axe up above her before swiping it across a number of enemies to give herself some room. She hummed some prayer to herself as she swung left and right, having little problems taking care of skeletons, or, really fragile enemies in general. She had no problem keeping up her pace at the moment, she just hoped the others would be fine taking care of the Paladin.


[System]
Aliases: Alvy, Fen
Occupation:Linguistics Student at Miskatonic University
Age:22
Birthplace:Boston Massachusetts
Race/Ethnicty:White
Gender:Male

---

---

Physical Attributes
Height:5'7
Weight:161 lbs
Build:Lanky and thin, with an almost underfed look to his face.
Eyes:Pale Blue
Hair:Light Brown
Skin Tone:Pallid
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings:Small scar under his left eye from a fishing trip accident when he was a boy.

---

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Psychological Attributes
Knowledgeable * Paranoid * Creative * Naive * Kind * Indecisive

Sexuality:Heterosexual, Asexual Leaning
Relationship Status:Single, Married to his studies
Likes:* Cheap Food
* Old Books
* Popular Music
* The History of Language
* His Family
* Friends

Dislikes:* Strangers
* The Ocean
* The cold
* Grime
* Ignorance
* Elitism

Fears:* Being submerged in deep water
* Being trapped in the dark
* Being Blind

[User]
Initial thoughts...
I do not have any qualms with traveling outside of New York, I never have. I like the trains, I like the way they smell and I like the sounds. There's a nostalgic value in watching the world go by outside but being incapable of doing anything about what I see. Watching people is easy. This will not be easy and that makes me nervous.

I feel weird and that's no surprise, I opened enough doors that the devil came knocking at mine. I am not one to ignore a rap at the door but for a moment I considered it. I'm not sure that chasing shadows is smart but it is what I've chosen to do. Violet might appreciate my fortitude. Too bad she does nothing but scream at those same shadows any longer.

I bite my tongue as I consider what might face me and I find I can't reason why I shouldn't go. I'm not the brave sort but I am the curious sort and sometimes that is just as bad. It's important that I keep my wits about me despite this, although the idea of venturing into this lacks wits all itself. Oh well. Hell awaits, yes?

Standing now at what he'd considered the point of no return, Simon was left to face down with a peculiar figure. His instinct was to go for a weapon but he could hardly bring himself to move. He had frozen in place shortly after his unsuccessful retreat, staring up at the cold blue eyes that stared back at him. His heart was hammering in his chest and he was stuck there, incapable of speaking or acting. His breath exhaled sharply and he tried to make note of as many details as he could about the individual although they were shrouded in gloom and that was no easy task. He could not make out much of their face but he could see the scar, a twisted, knotted thing that stretched across their cheek.

He wanted to brush them off as some sort of vagrant, a nobody in the darkness who was hungry for a fight. He considered they could perhaps be a local who was too keen on superstition, he was familiar with the type. He did what he could to ease his posture as he stared them down, tried not to look threatening, just in case they were looking for a fight. If they were just a superstitious local then he doubted they'd strike him but it helped to be nonthreatening in these situations all the same. He did not want to consider them to be some sort of sign. The words they spoke rung too true with his own internal turmoil, they was too close for comfort.

At the very least, this was an opportunity, wasn't it?

He had wanted to ask questions anyway, his whole purpose for visiting was to ask questions. If this dark figure had some kind of answers then who was he to complain? He tried to reassure himself with this logic although it did little to qualm the fear in the pit of his stomach. He would quiz this strange person a little and then he'd retreat the carriage, preferably without sustaining any injuries. He struggled for one more deep breath, and exhaled through his nose before he managed to force a pleasant smile on his face. The change was almost immediate, he'd gone from cornered animal to friendly face in no time flat.

He swallowed down the anxiety rising up the back of his throat and he forced his words out through his teeth, smiling all the while. "I don't know what you mean," he knew exactly what they meant but he would not show fear if he could help it. Fear was no use to him when he was engaging in investigative journalism, this wasn't the first shady figure he'd ever had to face off with and he presumed (or hoped) they would not be the last. His eyebrows drew together in an attempt to look confused. "What's to fear about the woods?"

What wasn't to fear about the woods?

[Assistant]
In This Fine Town Of Arkham
A Night At Wilde Hall

---

---

"The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown" - H. P. Lovecraft

---

Selune
 Not all those that are travelling to Wilde Hall decide to take the streets. Perhaps it is caution, or perhaps it is an appreciation of the relative peace, but as the night draws in Renee Bellerose is to be found walking along the edge of the Wilde Woods. The city barely reaches out this far, only the occasional building serving as a reminder of civilisation, and in the peace, Renee can almost believe that she is back in France, back before the war, before all the horribleness that consumed her peaceful corner of paradise. Almost, but not quite. The past is behind her, for the better or for the worse, and Renee has not made it this far by wringing her hands together and fretting. No, she has made it this far by putting her best black-clad foot forward. The invitation clutched in her hand gives her purpose, and besides, she is not the sort to turn her back on good drink and pleasant conversation. And considering the wealth that the Wildes have no doubt accumulated, the drink should be good enough to make up for any lacking conversation.

 Renee has almost reached the point marked on her invitation when something catches her eye. The few gas lanterns that reach this close to the woods cast only dim light, but Renee has always had a sharp eye, and in the half-light, she makes out a gap in the trees. Curiosity getting the better of her, Renee walks closer to this gap, instinctively treading softly as she approaches. A narrow path, little more than a deer trail, dissapears into the darkness of the woods, but as Renee leans to get a closer look, she can see that there are fresh footprints in the mud, leading deeper into the depths of the forest. A local going for a late evening walk? The idea seems hardly likely, especially considering the dark reputation that the Wilde Woods has gained, but whatever reason, someone has come this way, and moved through the twisted trees. The footsteps are clear, even in the half light, and it would be no great task to follow them, but then again, the Wilde Woods does not have its reputation for nothing, and the party is waiting...

---

 The path that follows the edge of the Wilde Woods is proving to be a popular route, although the reason that Moses Reaves is taking the more scenic route is perhaps more obvious than the one that sees Renee taking the same route. Anyone in the line of business that Moses inhabits develops an aversion for streetlights, and for the curious glances that the streets of Arkham had in abundance. Heavy jacket pulled tight around him, he takes long strides through the shadows. Wilde Hall is an opportunity, and Moses is not the type to miss an opportunity, especially one that presents itself in the form of a fancy invitation. And then one of the shadows moves.

 Moses stops in his tracks, eyes straining against the half light. A figure, close to the edge of the forest. Moses has no shortage of enemies who could be lingering in the dark, but the figure doesn't seem to be looking at him. Instead, it seems to be focused towards the woods themselves. With the soft steps of a man that is no stranger to the rougher side of the law, Moses moves forward. As he gets nearer, he realises that the figure is smaller than he first though, standing a good few inches shorter than he does. Not only that, but the figure is a woman, dressed all in black. Moses is wise enough to know that that fact doesn't make the figure any less dangerous, but they seem to be fixated on the trees, or rather a gap between the trees. By the looks of it, Renee hasn't heard Moses approaching yet, but every step risks alerting her. Is it a trap, or a curiosity?

---

 Walking through the dark streets is far from the typical evening for Alvin Fennel, but then what is university, if not a chance to get out of your comfort zone? Even so, the shifting shadows put the student on edge, and he quickens his pace. And yet his intended destination is no more familiar to Alvin. The inevitable opulence that Wilde Hall promises is a far cry from what Alvin is accustomed to, and the idea of crowds of strangers does little to settle his nerves. But then, that is not the only thing about the invitation clutched in his hand that puts him on edge. Trying to push the thoughts from his head, Alvin pushes onwards.

 Turning the last corner, Alvin can make out the black carriage that sits at the edge of the Wilde Woods. Two figures are already standing by it, but by the looks of the coachman, they won't be waiting there for much longer. If he picks up his pace, he could probably reach them before they set off, or perhaps it would be better to wait. After all, Alvin has never been one to turn his nose up at the prospect of having time to think. Besides, other guests should be arriving soon, and they may look less intimidating than the hulking silhouette of Drachen, the other man's frame making Rosanna look like a doll beside him. Pick up the pace to join the unusual pair, or take his time, and wait for the next ride?

[User]
Drachen's eyes had lazily wandered during his walk through the dark streets, small globes of light from the lamps that were quick to dim the further out the light went. During his lumbering, and lazy, stride he took note of the people. He wasn't famous per-se, but he was a rarity. A rarity that had no issues leaving a mugger broken in an alley. Leaving behind the mumbled shushed voices he approached the edge of town that bordered the Wilde Wood. A carriage, black and expensive looking, was there with a singular coachman. He didn't care about the mans attire, but that shotgun let him know things weren't peaceful in the woods. Most likely for coyotes.

An exchange of invitation and glances was all there were. Neither man had any words for the other. With the invitation back in hand he tucked it into the inner chest pocket of his enormous coat. He was dressed decent, but he wasn't a materialistic man. Not to mention his size made it so everything he had was custom made, which jacked up the prices of clothing and footwear. He did move off to the side, lingering near the rear of the carriage instead of getting into it. Staying in such a small thing for a long time would destroy his knees.

A brief wait and a well dressed woman came up the street. A different set of hushed murmurs and voices trailing after her. If he had been a vagrant he would have labeled her as the perfect target to hit for immediate money. Still she approached and handed the driver her own invitation before it was returned to her. The driver spoke, saying they were early. Well it was better to be early than to be late, right? The pair were left waiting in silence for any others to show. But the big man wasn't too fond of silences. "Evenin', miss..." He rumbled out. His voice matching that frame easily, like deep rolling thunder. If he owned a hat he might have tipped it, but he wasn't really fond of head gear. They looked silly and not to mention it made his wild mane sit funny when worn for too long.

[Assistant]
The Woods grow around the walls of the House, but as any student of history knows, the House has no walls. The short phrase bounced around the woman's mind as she moved through the trees and along the path. This was not the Woods, and the Wilde Estate was not the House either... Although it did appear to have some mysteries of its own. The horsehair whiskers of her feline-styled masquerade mask quivered in the gentle breeze as she analysed the footpath. Muddy. Dirty. Leading off into the woods. Intruiging. Were she out for a normal stroll this was certainly something she would investigate, but tonight was not the usual night.

Tonight she was properly dressed and, most importantly, was going to an event. This meant that one, her clothes found dirt and mud most disagreeeable, and two, them becoming muddy could quite easily become something of a scene. Adjusting her mask and hat a little, she turned away from the path and back towards the gaslit path ahead of her. Onwards to the party then. This curious little path would not be followed today.

[User]
Alvin reached into his coat and clutched the small leather-bound notebook in his breast-pocket. Inside the journal lay his invitation to Wilde Hall, and perhaps answers that he had been seeking. In the distance, he saw the carriage that would ferry him to the party, and two figures ready to enter the carriage. Would they wait for him or leave him behind? Was this the only carriage going to the party? The thoughts raced Alvin's mind as his heartbeat began to increase, the ever-looming anxiety of the unknown already pounding his thoughts like the beat of a soldier's drum. Should he force himself to be sociable? Perhaps they would have more information on this soiree, perhaps they would turn their knows at the pale, skinny man attempting to rub shoulders with the elite. He definitely did not look the part of a well-to-do man around Arkham. His black coat seemed a size too large for his thin frame, and his dark mask, with a product, corvid-like beak, gave him the image of a thin, giant dying bird than that of a man.

It wasn't that he lacked friends; it was that his usual group of friends all shared something in common: University Life. Alvin had spent many nights in the local bars with his college fellows, enjoying a glass of beer and stark discussion of their studies with one another. Alvin was studying linguistics at Miskatonic and specialized in strange languages that were offshoots of ancient tounges. He'd assisted Dr. Armitage as part of studies in translating strange books of the occult, something that more unnerved him than fascinated him. Professor Wilmarth, with who he'd done multiple classes, had him focused on differentiating the local Indian languages in their folklore of the area, trying to trace the stores back to some ur-narrative. That had been unproductive, but at the very least, interesting to Alvin. The professors at Miskatonic were by and far men of rationality and many had sought to instill their students with the understanding that all things in the world could be easily explained with sufficient evidence and understanding.

Alvin wished dearly that this was true.

He had made his decision. He stepped his pace to a faster procession, hoping to catch the carriage before it left. After all, this night was still young, and he had many questions that needed rational answers.