[System]
* Age: 4. Physically she can be said to look around nine or ten, and mentally she is roughly in her late teens or early twenties.
* Gender: Female
* Appearance: "You lost this fight the moment you doubted me."
* Personality: Estelle is seemingly a cocky, arrogant girl who flaunts her inherent aptitude with magecraft. She is a well-read and knowledgeable girl on top of this, quick to use all forms of research to support her perceived superiority. She has very little patience for others as well, and is prone to begin mocking and taunting those she believes deserve it without hesitation. Estelle is also liable to flaunt what she believes is a cute and endearing appearance granted to her by the Varianbec family. Beneath all of this is a childish wonder at the world, and a desire to experience as much as she can in spite of the situation her life has been spent preparing her for. She feels some level of resentment towards her family, in a way, due to tight control that is normally kept on her movements. Estelle is determined to do whatever it is she can to enjoy herself in whatever amount of time she has. While she is not without compassion, she is still a very haughty and bossy girl with a mild sadistic streak.
* Skills:
* Abilities: As Estelle is a homunculus, it is more accurate to describe her as a human created to be a magic circuit rather then a human created to be a magus. Her body contains an enormous amount of high-quality circuits, making her an incredibly potent wielder of magecraft. Her body is frail, but her magecraft carries an intense potency most exemplified in her choices made when in battle. She can construct a localized bounded field to defend herself from damage, and produce multiple points from which to fire beams of intensely destructive prana. A high-grade mystery in terms of modern magecraft, these beams are devised from numerous formulas from the Varianbec family's past in order to create a potent offensive weapon, a tool created specifically for the Grail War in order to best assure her own survival and defeat of the other Masters if she must. If required, she can unite the independent points to create a single, more dangerous blast of prana. As a homunculus, she is capable in all areas that her family excels in, such as the direction and flow of prana and the reconstruction of damaged familiars.
* Brief Backstory: Estelle was created as a receptacle for all of the Varianbec family's artifice. A sole individual who could continue the family's work even after the rest of them were gone. And, indeed, the rest of the Varianbec family no longer exists. All that remains is Estelle and the series of lesser homunculi they created for her care and upkeep. These homunculi were left with a strict series of orders ensuring that Estelle is not permitted to wander freely due to the importance of her existence. However, one of their key purposes was in grooming Estelle for participation in a future Grail War. The Varianbec family participated in the conception and creation of the Redrock Grail prior to their sudden disappearance, and as a result, Estelle was groomed to be their entry into the Redrock Grail War.
* Assets: In addition to having a vast amount of money and living in one of the largest homes in Redrock, Estelle is accompanied by an assortment of homunculus maids. These maids may be converted into a set of Mystic Codes if absolutely necessary, a defensive dress and a wand for channeling prana.

[User]
Estelle Varianbec, Master of Rider

"Wh-who does he think he is!?" declared the flustered Estelle, folding her arms with a huff as her maids busied themselves with drying her off. Well, she knew who he thought he was, to be fair... And in life he'd probably never been angrily yelled out of an intrusion into a bath before. For all she knew he could have been welcomed. But that was certainly not the case here. She'd summoned such a high-powered Servant, and yet he seemed like he was ready to find all new ways to make things embarrassing! Estelle huffed again as her maids dried her hair. As they brought her the clothing she had picked out that morning, she swiftly picked a white-and-pink dress with a bow on the neck and a ribbon tied around the waist, with a pair of knee-high socks. Diligently, her homunculus maids swiftly dressed her, and moments later the small, tan-skinned girl left the bath, her maids having dressed themselves so that they could follow her.

Blushing as she approached Rider, the memory of the way he'd so carelessly hoisted her naked out of the bath naturally still fresh in her mind, she stopped just in front of her Servant. Estelle's cheeks were flushed as her eyes drifted to the side and away from the legendary hero.

"I'm still mad at you about earlier, so don't think I've forgiven you just because of this, Rider!" she began, prefacing her following statement with a disclaimer just to ensure that nothing was simply washed away. "But..."

She averted her eyes again, still flushed.

"... That... was a good idea. Going out on the town can give you a chance to get used to Redrock, too. Better then just giving you a map or something like that."

Besides, Estelle was itching to go to her favorite candy shop and ice cream parlor again.

[Assistant]
Rider

She still seemed a bit upset at him from earlier. He still couldn't quite grasp what the huge deal was, but it hardly mattered right now. Not when she'd agreed that going into town was a good idea! Standing from the couch almost immediately at this, he offered her a nod in response to her observation that it would offer him a chance to get a layout of the town. While he was primarily doing this for the sake of a good time, he couldn't deny that the thought had crossed his mind. Their future battles were unlikely to take place in an open field outside a church, after all, so learning the numerous streets and pathways of this town was undoubtedly a sound strategic move.

"Then let's go!" He grinned down at Estelle, raising his fingers to his lips, only to pause. Wait, it probably wasn't a good idea to use his chariot in broad daylight like this. That's right, these Magi had rules they liked to follow. Besides, attracting the enemy's attention would probably cause their exploration of the town to be interrupted!

Instead he folded his arms, waiting for Estelle to show him the way forward. "By foot, that is!"

It wasn't as if he knew where anything here was, after all. Or what sorts of places were even worth visiting, for that matter. It was an interesting reversal: he'd have to rely on his Master today, rather than the other way around!

[User]
Lancer
Dɪᴀʟᴏɢᴜᴇ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ✦ #0EB94D || Tʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ✧ #FFFA90

---

The radiant spear blurred forward, crossing space in an instant with overwhelming force. In that instant, Lancer's enhanced eyes could see clearly the outcome of the battle. A momentary look of shock, then dismay, and then finally, acceptance appeared upon the face of her adversary. He, who had been so sure of his victory, now had no choice but to accept his defeat. This Servant whose name she knew not... He had been a formidable opponent. If he'd gone all out, she had no doubt that she'd have been defeated utterly. However, his overconfidence had been his downfall, and now, perhaps her strongest enemy would fall before her, leaving her path clear to claim the Holy Grail!

Yet at the exact moment her triumph should have been sealed, something changed. A momentary flicker of something, and then...

Gone. Archer was gone. In an instant, she knew what had happened. His Master, watching from somewhere distant, must have used a command spell so that he could escape his certain death...! She'd spared no effort and held nothing back, had delivered a blow with as much power as she could give it. He should have died, she should have won, and yet...!

"DAMN IT!" She roared in rage as her spear returned to her hand, its power fading just as quickly as it had appeared. All of that effort, and for what?! She'd revealed her identity, had shown close to the full extent of her power, and her enemy had simply escaped?! Worse yet, he now knew not to underestimate her. The same trick wouldn't work again. She'd missed her one chance to defeat this enemy, and now...

She wanted to scream, wanted to roar her rage to the night, wanted to unleash her power on something, anything, and tear it utterly apart to relieve her mind of this humiliation and failure! In an instant, the scales of fate had tipped away from her victory right before her very eyes, and there had been nothing she could do to stop it from happening. The odds had been snatched from her, and now... and now...

She took a deep breath. No, she hadn't lost yet. She was getting ahead of herself. Just because the odds didn't look favorable didn't mean she'd suffer a repeat of her life's greatest disappointments. She could still grant her wish. She could still save him...!

Her Master was watching. It was uncouth to be such a sore loser. It was regrettable that she hadn't killed her target, but nevertheless, she had demonstrated her full might for her Master's sake, and had won a glorious victory over a powerful adversary. Even if she hadn't ended his life for good... even if she hadn't returned bearing a prize for her master, that could not be helped. Perhaps he'd forgive her recklessness.

So, her spear vanishing from sight, she gave one last glance towards where her enemy had disappeared, and then hastily leaped away, soaring across the sky and back to her Master's side...

---

That night, Edward's mind would be filled with disjointed images. Eyes that were not his own, and a body that wasn't his watched as a life he shouldn't have known unfolded.

Nine figures danced in the sky over a cloudy hill. A sword glistened within the darkness. And then... he met her.

The radiant woman reached out her hand toward him, a gentle smile upon her face. She spoke his name, and in that instant, he was whole.

The cries of men and ringing echoes of steel slowly drowned out the wind upon the hill. Sword clashed against sword amidst royal halls, fires burning brightly as the world seemed to come tumbling down. Warhorns resounded across countless battlefields, and toasts were drunk and oaths were sworn to glorious victory. Triumph, the royal crown, and a solemn procession. A ceremony of some kind, but before its nature could become clear, the images continued. Scene after scene appeared and receded just as quickly, but through all these moments, one thing held constant: she was always there, by his side. A life not his own, yet as familiar to him as his own fondest recollections would flash before his mind, until in one instant, it was cut short by a lone enemy. And as he lay dying, the last thing he saw was...

The radiant woman clung tightly to his hand, tears streaming down her face. She cried out his name, but only silence answered her.

As he woke, her screams of despair would still be ringing in his ears.

---

Lancer sighed, staring once more over the edge of the balcony as the cool breeze washed over her, rustling the hem of the thin white silken bathrobe in which she'd draped herself. Her hair was still damp from her earlier shower, but she was too preoccupied right now to worry about drying it. Her arm had mostly healed, in that she was able to move it... but it still felt stiff and sore, reminding her of her close scrape with death the night before. The war had only just begun, and already, she'd been pushed this far... Inwardly, she cursed her misfortune. It was only to be expected that something like this would happen, but still... Biting down angrily on her thumb, she turned and shambled back into the apartment. Fretting about it wouldn't change anything. Maybe she'd go seduce her Master a bit to take her mind off her anxiety...

Speaking of which, her dear Edward had been sleeping an awfully long time, hadn't he? Probably, his body was still trying to cope with the exertion of the last night's battle. A Noble Phantasm wasn't easy to power even with time to prepare, but she'd gone and used hers without even consulting him. She'd understand perfectly well if he was angry with her for that. Nevertheless...

"Master?" She cooed quietly, creaking open the door and peering into Edward's room of the penthouse. Really, he couldn't be angry waking up to see a beautiful girl fresh out of the shower, clad in a loose robe and awaiting his every order, right?

...She sighed at the thought. A normal, happy life like that, loving and beloved in equal measure... It was nice to pretend, in any case, but she wouldn't stop until her fantasy became a reality.

no Hai

[Assistant]
Estelle Varianbec, Master of Rider

Good, she didn't have to waste her breath on telling her Servant that he couldn't use his chariot during the day. As fun as that had been, Estelle was quite certain it'd be impossible to hide something like that no matter how strong the magecraft you used to conceal it was. And so, dismissing her maids, the tiny, tan-skinned magus led Rider into town. It was a typical day in Redrock, there wasn't even the smallest sign of the conflict that had occurred the previous night. People were going about their business just as usual, talking on phones, with friends or family, hurrying to do work... it was an average day in an average town. Certainly, if any of them learned they were in the presence of a legendary hero, this calm mood would shatter. But it didn't. No-one knew who Rider was. It was almost surreal.

At least, it would have been if Estelle had been paying attention to that matter. But she was far more focused on her goal. That goal being...

Hickory's Sweets and Ice Cream Parlor.

No matter how much pride she had in herself as a magus, Estelle's adoration of the Sweets shop never failed to get her attention, never once did she pass up a chance to make a visit there.

And indeed, there it was up ahead! Aaah, the old-fashioned script, the building had such a nice and homey atmosphere... and inside were so many sweet delights of all kinds!


[System]
Satilla Valen

Character Summary
Aliases: Sata, Tils, White witch of the woods,
Age: 26
Race: Human
Alignment: Chaotic good
Place of Origin: Salvas Forest ( very small forest in the middle of nowhere)
Gender: Female
Class: Witch

Stats

Though we will not be rolling dice for feats, this will give a base line to run off of for your character. Max for any stat is 20, average is 10. You have 75 stat point to assign between the six stats.

Strength: 8
Dexterity: 14
Constitution: 9
Intelligence: 18
Wisdom: 10
Charisma: 17

Physical Attributes
Height: 5'6''
Weight: 119lbs
Build: Frail
Eyes: Gray
Hair: Platina blond
Skin Tone: Pale
Racial Abilities: N/A
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Big slash scar across her back from her left shoulder to her right hip.
Day To Day Attire: While shirt, while knee long skirt, tall leather boots, leather gloves, gray linen cloak with hood.
Strengths: Great memory, acute hearing, otherworldly handwriting!
Weaknesses: Somewhat weak, headaches at noisy places like cities, sensitive skin( get's sunburns easily if not careful)

Psychological Attributes
Gentle * Friendly * Fearful * Curious

Sexuality: Straight
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: Satilla is a predominately friendly person. She is always polite, well spoken and caring about those around her. She likes to help people when she can and often helps people for free in any way she can, be it healing or simply lend a hand.
 That said, she is also quite fearful of people she doesn't know, even if she doesn't always show it. Often she would be panicking deep down until the fear shows if the people don't prove friendly enough for the time being. She would break out in cold sweat and try to hide behind something or someone.
Habits: Bite her lower lip, plays with her hair.
Hobbies: Reading
Fears: Knights, Dogs, Graveyards
Likes: Apples, Kids, Cats, Books, Winter, Rain
Dislikes: Rats, Mosquitoes, Soldiers, Dogs, Graves, Summer, The Sun, Deserts

Skills
A listing of skills, such as horseback riding, and natural abilities, such as night vision - this also includes any racial edges

* Heal: The knowledge and skills to treat wounds and diseases with medication
* Simple Weapon Proficiency: All simple weapons such as club, dagger, gauntlets, staff, spear, crossbow, etc
* Ride: Can ride standard mounts proficiently
* Swim: Can swim without hindrance, including while in light armor and with pack
* Listen: Ability to pick up on sounds that might otherwise go unnoticed or to pick out specific sounds in a loud area
* Search herbs: The ability to find herbs in places where others would fail to notice them.
* Craft Books: The skill and knowledge to create books( Bind the pages, tie the covers etc...)
* Profession Midwife: The skill and knowledge to assist with births and lower the chance for complications to minimal.
* Concentration: The ability to focus on a single task, ignoring distractions

Magic
A listing of spells, their descriptions - casting times, elements needed to cast, expected damage, any draw packs to casting - Limit 5 for single class, limit 3 for dual class - magic classes only
* HEX Healing: A witch ability causing a healing effect equal to a cure light wounds just by touch. No casting is required and has no limit to uses. Only limit is she has to touch the target and that only a single HEX can be used on a person per day.
* Cure Light Wounds: Heal small wounds, bruises and burns
* Cure Moderate Wounds: Heal moderate wounds, burns and bruises
* Cure Major Wounds: Heal serious wounds, burns and bruises
* Life Pact: Affected creatures automatically donate health to stabilize fallen ally

Possessions

Possessions Generally On Person: Clothing, coin purse, money, etc
* Clothing: While shirt, while knee long skirt, tall leather boots, leather gloves
* Cloak: Gray linen cloak with hood.
* Belt: Sturdy leather belt with metal rings to attach pouches
* Purse: Small leather purse to keep her coins in.
* Dagger sheath: small leather sheath attached to her inner tight.
* Coins: A number of mostly silver coins and some copper.
* Arcane Scroll: (Summon Monster II)
* Lesser Psionic Restraint: (Command thought is psionically imprinted)
* Mantle of Faith: (This holy garment, worn over normal clothing, grants damage reduction 5/evil to the character wearing it. )

Weapons: Personal weapons, no magically enhanced items
* Dagger: A fine slightly curved steel dagger.
* Staff: Simple wooden staff

Armor: Base armor only, no magically enhanced items
* N/A

Animals: Have a horse or bird? Limit 1 non bonded
* N/A

Familiar:
* Skittles: A normal looking white cat, that she loves hug and cuddle. It's a very smart creature, never making noise or causing trouble. Especially when her healer skills are required, it would sit a few feet away, waiting patiently for her to finish before returning to her side.

Pack Contents: What do you carry in you pack when traveling
* Bedroll: The sleeping bag of middle ages and fantasy settings
* Blanket: A simple woolen blanket
* Flint&Steel: Firestarter
* Cold weather outfit: Spare clothing for winter seasons and cold areas
* Ink: Small ink bottle
* Quill: Feather for writing
* Book: An empty book with blank pages
* Candles: A set of 5 simple candles
* Chalk: 4 pieces of chalk.
* Soap: Hand made soap with flower scent!
* Healer's kit: A set of all tools needed for effective medical intervention.
* Oil: A flask of oil
* Waterskin: Simple waterskin for carrying water.
* Brush: Simple wooden hand carved brush.

Magical Items: Limit 2 low level
* N/A

Potions: Premade or prepurchased potions - limit 5
* Lesser healing: 3 Lesser healing potions she made

Creation Materials: Anything used to brew potions or for alchemy
* Mortar&Pestle: Basic set of tools for creating herb mixes
* Herbs: An amount of selected herbs for mixing healing potions

History
Parents: Mother: Zachana Valen(Dead); Father: unknown; Was in good relationship with her mother.
Siblings: N/A
Childhood: Her village was destroyed in a war, mother killed in the attack, she suffered grave wound and was taken as captive. Since then she completely fears knights and their hounds. She somehow escaped one night and ended in a forest where she met a witch who took her in. It was a miserable and painful living as the witch was of the more... typical representatives of her kind. Evil... full of malice, attempting to mold her into a creature filled with anger and hate towards everything else also.
Adulthood: She has been traveling since she was 18. Always on the move, always wandering towards new places. She would help people on the way, healing even for free if she has to. She usually camps in woods, rarely staying in towns for long.
Special Moments: She was 18 when she just couldn't take living with that witch anymore... She despised her, loathed her. Satilla didn't want to live like she was made to. She wanted to see the world despite everything and didn't hate everyone out there. One night she stabbed the witch in the heart while she was sleeping. After that she left to travel, content one less evil was in this world... for her own sake.

 When she was 21 she decided to try to settle down somewhere. Using what little money she had gathered, she had a small cottage/hut build in a forest near a village. She practiced her magic to heal and help people and was thus dubbed the white witch of the woods, partly for her good deeds partly for her appearance. That said it didn't last long when a plague hit there... Despite her attempts to help, some people blamed her and she was forced to leave after all.
Current Events: She still wanders around, trying to find a place to settle down, but her curiosity and desire to help people, always finds negatives in every place that could prove a new home and keeps her walking. Besides creating a place to call home costs money and her displays of generosity and free healing keeps her purse light.

Relations
⚜ High Ranking * ☯ Neutral * ☮ Friends * ♥ Crush * ⚤ Significant Other * ☠ Enemy
You may work out several predone relations as NPCs you control. Limit one high ranking character, minimal of one sworn enemy - all npcs are limited to base information and items within the Rp. Relations can be worked out between player character before start of Rp if you wish and added to during the Rp

* ☮ Jasmine Astara: A small caravan owner that Satilla saved from a wound after a bandit attack.
* ☠ Kasa Salas: The witch that took Satilla in after escaping captivity as a child. Extremely cruel and evil, full of hate. Attempting to corrupt Satilla since she was a child. Now dead after Satilla killed her with a dagger through the heart.
* ☠ Salazar Makania: A witch hunter that had swore to rid the world of Kasa whom Satilla killed. Now that she is gone, his oath of destruction fell on her.

Extras
Character Quote: "Help others, to help yourself."
Theme Song: What would be playing when they walk up if we were in a movie?
Aura Color: Warm orange.
Scent: Mixture of herbs and forest flowers
Anything Else: N/A

[User]
---

---

Resolution
Season: Late Fall/Early Winter
Time Of Day: Night, middle of.
Weather: Cool and damp, with a clear, open sky
General Ambiance: Too quiet, outside of the pressing medical emergency
Location: Between the Orc Cave and the Ice Wall

---

---

 Sana's unconscious form began to spasm and choke as the thick liquid of Thomas's potion made its way down her throat. The resistance given was weak, far weaker than her taught and wiry muscles would have ordinarily put forth. This was obviously the reflexive firing of nerves and not a true effort to save herself from syrupy drowning. Now then, some of that potion got where it was supposed to go. The application of the energizing liquid will take effect in less than a minute, but is weakened to a degree that she is only conscious, not upright. Sana will require rest, unless acted upon by another source of assistance. Now the question is: Does she choke to death in the meantime?

 Satilla succeeds in getting over to Sana, mostly because Keystone is eager for some measure of non-murderous help to be provided to his fallen friend. When Satilla mentions the phrase "heal her", he deliberately(?) falls backward and rolls over twice, clearing a path asap. He glares over to Thomas as he rises, potentially contemplating the effects of open pit barbecuing on a young, male spellcaster if the look on his face is any indication, but refrains from taking any action. His gaze returns to Satilla and Sana.

 It's about this time that Lerraina and Ntaj re-scale the lower section of the still present Wall O' Ice. (yup, still there, guys) and rejoin the group. Everyone else is crowded around Sana's medical emergency, except for Cyneburg, standing apart from them with her axe-cane and Keystone's big shiny knife, and Calanon, busy watering his elk.

 I now return you to your regularly scheduled drama. AAAAND ...Go.

[Assistant]
Cyneburg
Location: Orc Cave
Interacting with:Gretchin

"As far as I know, everyone's still alive," Cyne responded to Gretchin's uncharacteristically helpful set of questions. The only person who might be dead was Sana, and she was surrounded on all sides by people trying to do things. Having a racial knack for seeing in the dark did not help much when spotting your target would require X-ray vision. Cyne gave Gretchin a once over. She seemed alright, but it wouldn't hurt to verbally confirm thatshe wasn't secretly injured.

"Are you unharmed? As far as helping out, I don't think there's anything in particular you would be able to assist with. Unless you have some method of getting rid of this wall of ice." Cyne planted the base of her axe-cane into the ground and rested her weight upon it, watching the commotion surrounding Sana. It seemed like she was recovering? Whatever the case, once things settled down a bit, she could hand Keystone his knife back. And then maybe get some shut eye. There was still a big day ahead, and there had been enough nocturnal activity for just about everyone.

[User]
Location: By the Cave
Interacting With: Everyone in the merry group about, but mostly Keystone and Sana.

 The witch managed to easily make her way to the fallen Sana, mostly thanks to Keystone who with great haste removed himself from his place to allow her access to the bard. Without losing any time as she moved, the witch's spells almost flare when a faint sound reached her ears. It was her nice great hearing that this time made her realize almost what huge mistake she did! She still needed to heal her, but before that there was another thing to be taken care of... thing that could kill Sana!

 The witch barely heard it, but the bard's breathing was slightly off and not the from the frost... She right away pressed an ear against the injured woman's chest." KEYSTONE, QUICK ELEVATE HER! She's got liquid in her lungs, we need it removed as much as possible before I use my spells on her!" Satilla shouted as she looked at the man, already trying to turn Sana to the side, not wanting to lose any moment until Keystone could provide his great physical strength!


[System]
Age: 20

Appearance:

Height: 180 cms

Weight: 93 kg

Likes: Anime, gardening, cooking, games, reading, writing, most forms of spirits, the occult.

Dislikes: Wine, Beer, social interaction with most people, confrontation, himself.

Zodiac Sign: Scorpio

Special Talent: Joseph is a surprisingly good cook, a talent that comes from living alone for a few years now, wandering the country and doing what he can to make the food he scrounges up somewhat edible.

He is also a decent writer, keeping several journals filled with stories from his travels, often adapted into a fantasy setting.

Profession: Unemployed, and technically homeless. If you were to ask him, however, he'd probably say he's a wanderer, like Kenshin. He'd then immediately hide his face and shy away, realising he'd just tarried to talk about anime with a 'real' person.

Bio/Personality: For pretty much his entire life, Joseph has been a fairly withdrawn person. He never quite managed to get the hang of social interaction, and he had an annoying tendency to miss a lot of social cues.

This got to the point where, by the time he was fifteen, he had only ever had two friends, a pair of sisters who he knew when they were all kids. They managed to be friends for a good six years, before they moved away to somewhere across the country. After they left, he all but gave up on talking to other people entirely, retreating into the magical digital world of games, anime and writing. Things were going great, right up until one day when he was sixteen. What changed, you ask?

Well, his parents died. Car crash.

This led to a problem, in that back when they got married, it wasn't exactly with the approval of either of their parents. In fact, according to the stories they told him, it was with very adamant disapproval. Therefore, they did something that, in their minds, was the obvious choice, and ran away to the other side of the country to elope. Honestly, Joseph could kind of see his grandparents points, considering that his mother was the only child and 'heiress' to an honestly ridiculously wealthy family, his father was the son of an abusive heroin addict of a mother and a father who quite possibly didn't even know of his existence, having disappeared before his mother even learned of the pregnancy, and they were seventeen and sixteen respectively at the time of their escape. However, it also led him to a problem.

He was still a minor, and the government would probably try to place him in his richer grandparents care. He'd seen enough anime to know how they may very well see him, especially considering how they apparently saw his dad.

And so, out of fear of being put in the care of resentful grandparents, combined with the less than stellar mindset you tend to find yourself in when both of your parents have suddenly been stolen away from you, he did the only thing he could think of at the time.

Ask uncle google what you would need to survive on the road, gather it up along with your important keepsakes, and run away from home.

For the next four years, he traveled all across America. He managed to make enough money to not starve to death doing odd jobs, usually helping out on farms and the like. However, he still remained fairly withdrawn socially, never connecting with the people he helped in the way he would have liked.

Now, he has arrived in Sol city, wondering if perhaps it might be a nice time to stop wandering.

Your character's favorite song: Going Home, from Bleach.

The following is not required, but we strongly encourage you to at least put a little something. In the past we have found that when players get to know each other as real people, not just as names on a screen, it helps the longevity of the game. Seriously, please get to know your fellow players.

Tell us about yourself:

*Your age:
21

*What part of the world are you from?
Australia

*How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: (if you're on your first year, that's totally fine too)
Well, I started around January this year, so I'm still kind of inexperienced compared to a lot of other people I've met.

*How often do you have time to post? (this is just a general, honest question, no judgment)
Gonna be honest, it kind of fluctuates. Sometimes I'll be able to post once a day, or even more, and then other times a full week will pass before I can get to it.

*Anything else you want to mention? What you do for a living? How much do you work a week? What do you enjoy doing besides writing? Put as much as you want.

Honestly, I don't really know what to say. I'm currently looking for a job, but don't have one at the moment. I'm dreadfully shy in real life, so that makes it a little difficult. Apart from writing, I don't have a whole lot of real hobbies. I guess martial arts and cooking could also count, but I haven't cooked in a little while.
So yeah, not really a whole lot I can say...

[User]
Marinalia (Romus) Olympus
&
Victoria Darya Romus
Swan Songs . Monday Evening

---

Marinalias plan was going badly. So very badly. She was grabbed by the Indian who seemed to rip his shirt aside in a gesture trying to seem masculine, dramatic.

Trying to fight him off it was not easy, he looked like some kind of fop but his strengh was surprising, and it seemed her miscalculated attempt that they not attack was wrong. So very wrong. Fear began to hit hard as she relised the danger of situation when someone forced her drink a foul and sickening purple liquid.

one day. One day you will get what your due

Oh God. They where gonna drug her. They had security, thugs and power over her. This was a terrible idea.

Thr Indian had tried his way to be seductive, the truth was he came across as a creep. A abusive creep.

Then fate saved her. By whatever God gate had saved her as they made to the exits security ramming aside the crowd to try and escape. A mix of revulsion, and whatever brew caused her to dizzy, blur a second before puking up most of her dinner, drinks and the liquid.

Thankfully somthing she was allergic to meant the toxic brew effects where limited though the lingering revulsion at the indians touch, the thugs arrogance and insults. She might have hated her family but this time it was revenge. A dark corner relised the events coming meant the family would on full show and hopefully a chance to return a favour to these monsters. With money came power and they forgot others may be more that they seemed.

Struggling to hold up, the sheer disgust was overwhelming as her stomach turned and staggered down the steps the water soaking everything.

Sewing Ren fall, and Sasha run she tried to help him up. Leaving even a stranger to a fire was unforgivable. Talking was difficult and she gagged a few few times at the after taste of that drink. God they where monsters.

"Ren. Come on you foolish lump. Get out... Car...

Someone help... Please.

A few small bruises where on her arm from the grab, thr push had thrown her balence alongside the foul drink. All she could think of was getting out, and hitting the road home.

---

Victoria was cold as she threw self out was as security charged pit like raging bulls to the helicopter, tramping and ramming people aside to escape the growing and hostile crowds. The cops and fire service would be on route, it seemed they would be Airborne before the momment happened.

Looking back for Marilania she looked round, no, she was not with the group, but was she still inside, another exit. Shouting out she called out trying to find her sister, and her way out of this situation.

 Mali! MALI! Where... By the wall.

Staring round she tried to find someone she recognised, someone who might help. Even those passing people her sister knew might offer aid. Maybe.

Shivering in the bustling crowds, it seemed Victoria's night had gone decidedly for the worse.

---

@Furiosa@Robo27@Monacho@King Tai@Voltus_Ventus@Jay Kalton@aladdin_sane@RabidPorcupine@PrinceAlexus@RoccanIronclad

[Assistant]
Milo Ventri

 Milo pushed his way through the retreating crowd, he looked up as the large Indian man grabbed hold of miss Romus, this man was a idiot if he thought that was going to go well, but the panicking crowd slowed Milo down as he trudged on. The water was drenching him and he was not going to let this go, it was at this point that he noticed that the girl was now seemingly sick, had the man done something? Milo reached the stage and came upon the girl as she was fumbling about.

"Miss Romus, please come with me, I will get you out to your sister."

 Milo had only barely heard Victoria mention it but he needed something to get Marinalia moving, she was drenched and it seemed as though she had been sick for sure now that he was this close. Milo held out his hand to her and offered to help her from the building. He wasn't sure where her sister was exactly but he was not about to allow anyone to be left to this mess, especially after already having been so brave.

[User]
Joseph looked up as the alarm went off, doing it just at the right moment to get a torrent of water directly in his eyes.

"Hmm, well that's not good."

Well, he still had an almost full bottle of absinthe to look forward to. He'd only really taken a few swigs, so he'd get a good few hours of alcohol from it.

He looked back down to said bottle. There was about an eighth of the alcoholic liquid left.

"Also not good." He said, as the world tilted around him. "Welp, I suppose I should probably get out of here before the fire gets me."

Putting the cap back on the bottle, he got up and stumbled, lurched, and span through the crowd, making it to the outside surprisingly quickly.

Looking down at the bottle again, he sighed.

"I suppose I should find a nice, cardboard box to finish this in..."

However, before he could wander off into the night, he saw the girl who'd bought him the drink in the first place. It looked like she wasn't exactly thriving in the cold, especially now that she had been drenched in water. Honestly, maybe it was because of what was apparently a ridiculous amount of alcohol, but he didn't even seem that nervous about approaching her.

"Hey snow girl, it looks like you aren't handling the cold too well." He said, before taking off his jacket and chucking it to her. "So, I don't know if you'll actually want it, but here. It should keep you warm, despite how torn up it looks..."

As he stood around, he began to feel a little nervous once more.

"So... We're standing out here... Just... Standing..."

He kicked a can in the ground, before lifting his bottle up to the moonlight.

"Is there a... reason... we're standing here?"


[System]
7 May 1908

Appearance
Average height, sand brown hair kept up in a professional looking bun when in school/working, left down to let her natural wave free. Hazel eyes often behind reading glasses and dark circles from being up way too late. Occasionally looks a little haggard, her fair skin making the dark circles a little more obvious. A few dark freckles on her face and arms stand out starkly.

Personality
Kind, giving, passionate, and a little absent minded. Bea is a nice person to work with, talk with (as long as you don't mind random, winding tangents on things you might not actually want to know about), and generally be around. She's dedicated to learning and her work, doesn't give up easily and will keep going sometimes even past when it's obvious she should give up.

History

William Axford
9 September 1893

Appearance
Tall, broad shouldered, and generally built like a working man. Strawberry blond hair kept just outside of military standards, light blue eyes set in a handsome face. Few scars here and there, along with a few tattoos. One of his daughters name above his heart, a phoenix across his shoulder on his back, and a naked valkyrie one his right inner forearm.

Personality
Will is a bit of a bastard sometimes, and for the most part doesn't really like to spend lots of time in large groups of people. He's fine with a few people for long times but public spaces start to bother him if he's in them too long. He's rather caring to people he's close to, overly protective almost of them. He treats women amazingly well despite still being a bit of a sleaze sometimes when he talks to them.

History
Born the eldest of far too many, childhood was rough and made him tough. He left home as soon as he could and didn't look back really. A few years before the war broke out, at seventeen he became a father. But that only encouraged him to enlist and ship out.

He served on the front lines for a few yearsbefore moving on to airship service where he found his stride, quickly rising up the ranks. A year before the cease fire was called, he injured fairly badly in battle and he was still in recovery when the fighting stopped. When he was up again he'd been discharged and he took the offer from one of his former officers as captain of one of his civilian vessels. He has since captained the Valkyrie ever since.

Rebeca Elizabeth Axford
25 April 1910

Appearance
Medium height, slim build with a lovely set of curves. Long, mid back length bright red hair hair and startling blue eyes. She's almost always with a bright smile on her face, and a kind look on her face. Even if she had shorter hair there'd be no denying that she was a woman, everything about her screamed it, but in a soft way, especially considering her age. Delicate and feminine, but there's enough spunk in her look that one would believe she was able to go running and swimming with the boys just as well as them.

Personality
Kind, caring, compassionate, loud, exuberant, and loving. There is something about Rebeca that makes it hard to not be happy when you're around her. She gets under your skin quickly, making her seem like she's always been your friend. The girl is all smiles and light laughter. There are very few who would not count her friend, or friendly, even amongst hardened people she is a source of light.

History
The only child of a pair of high school sweet hearts who never wed, Rebeca was raised just on the cusp of middle class. Her mother did well enough to never have her wanting, but the extra little things of life did slip them by as well. But she was happy, and bright and didn't care about those things. Her mother died when she just a little over thirteen, leaving her to live with her grandparents just a few towns over from Saint Louis. She was happy and content with her life, even if she didn't see her father as much as she would have liked to have.

At sixteen, her grandmother who was already I'll passed, her grandfather a few months later. She stayed in the house for a while before her uncle kicked her out because he didn't approve of her lifestyle, and had never liked that she had been born out of wedlock and remains so. So she sent a letter to her father and he gladly took her with him when he next came into town.

[User]
The rest of their breakfast was less outwardly awkward. Or at least Bea kept herself from saying anything too foolish. But she couldn't stop herself from thinking about where her mind had wandered. She did well in keeping it in check, but she kept finding herself looking at him just the slightest bit differently. Hopefully, it would pass by the time they were on the way back to the airship.

By the time they were finished eating and had returned back to the ship, both Rebeca and Will were standing on the outside deck, both of them smoking cigarettes as they talked to each other. It was very clear from the way they stood and their movements that they were related to one another. It was also very clear that they were both agitated by something.

"That does not look promising," Bea said to Roger as they approached and made their way up.

When Rebeca noticed them, she nudged her father's shoulder for him to turn. He promptly put out what was left of his cigarette and turned fully to the pair.

"Well, bad news," he said solemnly, though the anger was clear in his tone as well. It was looking very likely that someone was likely to get yelled at today.

[Assistant]
It was fairly obvious that Will was upset. There was a bit of anger in his body language and tone. Roger frowned slightly knowing that whatever it was, it was serious. No doubt it was tied to their departure. The man had said something about them not being able to leave earlier and that it might take a bit longer and now, the fact he was outside with Rebeca indicated that it was probably worse than initially thought.

"What is it?" Roger asked.

Part of him worried sabotage. Thieves. Or maybe something worse. But he dismissed that. His overactive imagination, combined with the threat of what happened to Bea's father made him a bit paranoid. And true to that, the captain confirmed that they still wouldn't be able to leave just yet. Much as Roger had initially guessed.

"Do we know how much of a delay this might be?" Roger asked. He didn't want to delay Bea's journey any longer than it needed to. Not to mention, if they had to wait a day or two, she'd have to go back to Ms. Mortimer's boarding house and the woman would continue to harangue her, using this mechanic issue as a 'sign' that she shouldn't go.

Roger glanced at Bea before looking back at Will. "Is there anything I can assist with?" He was really mechanical but if there was something to help speed the process, he was willing to try.

~ ~ ~
You knew it was bad when she slipped into muttering in Yiddish. The man was an imbecile, a schmock. He called himself a mechanic? She had seen better mechanics from children. Okay, that might be taking it a bit far. Still...

Estella lay on her back, under the engine trying to put it back together. Fredricks had told her to take another section apart in this area but she wasn't going to. It didn't take her that long to realize that there was no purpose in his commands. It was almost as if he was purposely trying to make the job harder. Either way, she had started to ignore him while she repaired this one section. Of course, as soon as he found out, she'd undoubtedly get an earful and even probably kicked out. But she wasn't going to take anything else apart unless she had a need too.

"Are you done removing the capacitor?" Speak of the idiot. "What the .... are you doing?" The man's face peered down at her. "I told you to remove the capacitor. Are you as deaf as you are stupid?"

Patience. Tranquility. It only could go so far. Getting out from under the engine she glared at him. "I'm stupid? You're the one who's," she rattled off a string of words in a combination of Yiddish and Danish, the tone pretty much indicating what she thought. "You're making this worse by taking every," another string of Yiddish "apart." She crossed her arms and glared up at him.

Fredricks' face turned purple with rage. Shouting obscenities he pointed toward the door. "Get out of here you ---. When the captain finds out how much trouble you're causing me he'll kick your sorry..."

Estella cut him. "Let's go talk to him then." She shot back. "I'm sure after some explanation he'll gladly sort this out."

Fredricks frowned slightly. Pride kicking in, he shot her a lock. "Fine!"

[User]
Bea did not like the way that sounded. She had wanted to get going as soon as possible, but she did understand some delay. But this was more than just a delay. She didn't want to go back and stay at her room in Ms. Mortimer's house. She didn't want the overbearing woman to act like that was reason enough for her not to go. She didn't need that sort of thing heaped onto her more. Perhaps Captain Will would let them stay aboard even if they didn't leave that day.

And there was a moment there where she considered that it might have been that girl. And then she hated herself for it. This girl was not to blame, and she should trust the captain's judgements. Roger did, so she could too.

"Honestly don't know," Will replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "Hopefully we'll be in the air by morning, provided we can get things up and running by tonight. But I say this based on the way the engine room was looking last I was down there. And that was before the girl went down. So things might be sooner than that."

He turned to Bea and smiled slightly. "I'm sorry to delay you, miss."

She equally smiled and tilted her head some. "It's quite alright. It wasn't anything that you could foresee coming."

The sound of footsteps coming out of the hatch made her turn to see the approaching form of both the mechanic and the girl. Bea raised her eyebrow some and stepped back to let them come out.

"What?" Will asked, looking between the girl and the old man. "Please tell me you're here to say that things are fixed."

[Assistant]
It was apparent that the day was not going well, from the Captain's point of view. Roger didn't blame him. As a captain you expected your ship to be ready to go - especially if you had paying customers placing their expectations in you. Not to mention, Roger was familiar enough with Will. This was not something he liked in general - or at least that's what he had picked up. He glanced toward the entrance as the mechanic came out followed by the girl they had seen the other day.

"Captain, this...this girl is wasting my time. Being inefficient and completely disrespectful." It was evident the man was furious. His face was purple with rage. His words clipped. If it wasn't for the fact that there were ladies here, he would have probably used fouler language. "She is a complete imbecile who has no concept of listening to those with experience or even working with a ship. I can't work with her here. She's getting in my way and making the repairs longer than needed."

"Well, if you didn't have me take apart every piece of equipment, it wouldn't take as long," Estella snapped. She visibly calmed herself, taking a deep breath, closing her eyes just a brief second. As much as she wanted to tear into this schmuck, anger and accusations would not help at this time. As it was, she was the assistant and probably had less say - though, seeing Rebeka there, Estella she had at least one person who would actually listen to her. Not that the captain wouldn't. He seemed reasonable. But at the same time, he also didn't seem like the type to put up with accusations and fighting.

A bit calmer, she looked at the man. "With all due respect, the chief mechanic is having me take apart major sections of the engine. Areas that don't seem to be affected. Out of the six tasks assigned this morning, five of them, were perfectly fine - as discovered as I took them apart. I'm not an expert but they also don't seem to correspond with a problem to warrant taking them apart."

"That's right, you're not an expert! You're a ..." The man bit off his sentence and gave her a look that practically telegraphed what he was thinking.

Roger took Bea's arm. The hostility in the air was very evident. It was internal matter but they were stuck there as observers. Though he could have interjected and stated they would leave, he didn't want to interrupt.

[User]
Will crossed his arms over his chest as the two mechanics went at it. Finally he held up his hand to stop the two of them from keeping on because it was useless information at this point. "That's enough," he said with that tone that was a lot more serious than he'd used in quite a while. Even with the threat he'd used earlier, he was already more irritated now than he'd been then.

Turning to Estella he sighed, rubbing at his face some. "Now, I know you're a young thing, but you've been right before, so I'm inclined to believe you."

He looked to Fredricks and said "You asked for help, I gave you help. I don't appreciate you coming back up here and throwing that in my face. Especially taking that sort of tone about her. That is beyond not acceptable. So if you can't deal with the help I got you, regardless of your reasons, you can take your leave of my ship." His tone now was one that said he should be leaving regardless of if he thought that he could get along with Estella.


[System]
Gender: Male
Age/Birthdate: 21 (DoB: August 21, 460)
Appearance/Description: A young man with pale sunbleached hair and dark eyes. He stands at 5'11 and has a lithe build, though considerable muscle definition in his arms due to both working on a farm and swinging a sword. Can usually be seen in a red tunic with a hardened leather vest over it. Wears tan pants and heavy boots. He has a sword.
Background/Personality Blurb: Neighbor to a small farm family living on the countryside. He joined a local militia about a year ago to help keep both his home and the nearby town safe from bandits. While as a child, he favored use of swords in play fights, he turned the 'skills' he'd learned into a career as a militiaman. In spite of his occupation and spending a lot of time training and, in his youth, play sword fighting, he's a rather passive individual unless his family is at stake.
Class: Mercenary

[User]
"Felix is a lazy goof, but there's few I trust more." Katherine smiled and nodded.

She looked at the portrait Emmerich unrolled. She could easily pick out a younger Emmerich. But the man next to him...reminded her a bit of herself actually. She recognized some of the features. "So it's....A royal crest that denotes a heir to the throne?" Kathy frowned and leaned in closer to the old man and spoked in a whisper, "Emmerich...that sigil appeared on my thigh last night, but there must be some mistake? I'm just a simple cleric/farm girl. Why would it appear on me?"

For some reason this was scarier to her than those bandits the night before.

[Assistant]
Emmerich's eyes widened, then he slumped back in his chair. He didn't question her, not even to ask to see the crest. For a time, he seemed to be silently processing, then a smile appeared on his face. The man started to laugh jovially, as if he'd heard a real knee slapper. "Ah, that is... Alphin, that is just like you," He said, coughing a little bit from shortness of breath.

"No... I suppose that isn't a surprise, really," Emmerich said. "I want to tell you a story. It is of the first time I visited this village... When I wasn't a militia commander, but instead was the attendant to a foolish prince with a case of wanderlust and... Well, other lusts as well." He said.

~~~22 Years Ago~~~

"Well, your majesty, we're here." The young soldier sighed. "I suppose you're going to-"

"Hey, hey, hey, hold on!" The soldier's companion said, seeming very laid back compared to the soldier. "Come on, I'm here to just relax. You know, be a regular guy, not... That. It's not your majesty, or young master, or prince long as we're in this village. I'm just Al, okay, Emm?" He asked.

The soldier sighed. "Very well... Al... I'll acquiesce to your requests." He said.

"Jeez, no need to be so stiff about things. You need to get laid, buddy."

"That's hardly behavior one should be engaging in when they have to be babysitting a manchild such as yourself." The soldier sighed.

"You only say that because you're an unbearable stiff, now let's get to exploring. This is Prima, a rustic town in the countryside! It's so lively compared to back home!" Al said with a smile.

"It's filthy here, I'm fairly certain I saw animal droppings in the middle of the road." Emm sighed.

"See, that's what I'm talking about, calling you a stiff! You can't have a little fun! Always business."

"I'd rather be always business then see you injured." Emm retorted.

"Bah, easy come, easy go," Al said with a smile, looking at a young woman in a low cut dress with a whistle and a smile. "Hey, I've got an idea. We're friends, right?" He asked.

"You're my liege, not my-"

"Yeah, yeah," Al said. "So we're friends. So let's get a portrait done!" He said, dragging the slightly taller man over to a man with an easel. "How much for two copies of a portrait of me and my friend here?"

With that, the two began their explorations of Prima. The paintings done by an artist who knew not of the significance of the mark on the young man's arm, the two met a number of people, Al dragging Emm throughout, the shorter man enjoying the festivities of a harvest party, while the taller continued to act as alert as possible. As the sun set, Al had a woman on his arm as he approached his comrade.

"Hey, Emm," The young man said, smiling and a little red in the face. "This sweet maid and I are going to spend the night together, yea? I told her about the capital and well... We got excited."

"Ugh... I pray you didn't say too much, and I pray you not tell me any further." Emmerich said, shaking his head as he turned away. "Just... Do me a favor, and stay at this tavern." He sighed, all too familiar with Al's escapades.

"Haha! What'd I say, is he a hoot or what?" Al laughed as he led the woman to his room.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Emmerich smiled. "I suppose it makes sense though," he said to Katherine. "You'd seemed somewhat familiar when I first saw you, 12 years ago... And when Felix told me about your mother's story... About how she'd married to preserve her honor, and that you and your father knew that he was not your true father... But I never asked." He said.

The old soldier closed his eyes. "... This is very good to know... Miss... No, Lady Katherine... You're likely the last surviving heir to the throne of Iris... Your very existence might be able to save this country from disarray..." He sat back in his seat. "That said... It may be better for you if... We just didn't have this conversation. It is your choice... You may act with this knowledge or bury it. If you wish it, this will be our secret... If not... I will make the necessary preparations. Again, the choice is yours."

[User]
Katherine's eyes seemed to go even wider, she shook her head in disbelief, "I knew he wasn't, but I didn't know my father was a King... And Mother knew as well. And you all never told me....I suppose I understand why, to protect me, right? But...it still hurts that I never knew." she looked down at her hands in her lap.

She looked back up at him, "...Save the country? Now, hold on a minute. How? Where would I even begin? I don't know the first thing about ruling, much less how to save it in the first place. What could I possibly do? I doubt it'd be as easy as 'HEY I'M HIS DAUGHTER' anyway...Emmerich, I...I don't understand...What do I do?" she sighed.

[Assistant]
"Lady Katherine, please, try and calm yourself," Emmerich said. "Nobody knew anything. Your mother only knew that your father, that Alphin, was a young man from the capital, and I'd only once met your mother myself until 6 months ago, after Felix joined the militia. I only had my suspicions, nothing concrete. Why say anything if all I have is an idle thought? Especially since there was no brand until today?" Emmerich pointed out. "And I am not suggesting you merely go and claim yourself heir, or even that you try and take control of the country. But... There is a way that you can help to stabilize our country, to save it from chaos...

"There was a reason your father and I came to Prima," Emmerich said as he poured more tea. "Prima is, while a simple rural village, known as the cradle of our nation. While it's somewhat of a secret, just like the Royal Crest, Prima is where future heirs to the throne begin a pilgrimage known as the Regal's Rite. If you have that mark, then you could undergo the Rite. My duty here was always to help the heir to the throne to begin the rite. If you do complete it, you may collect a proof that will show you as the true heir to the throne." He pulled another scroll from the desk, this one with three pictures, a tome, a staff, and a blade.

"Even children of Iris know of the three Regalia, the Lotus Sword, the Lotus Staff, and the Tome of the Lotus. It is from these three regalia that our ritual, of giving Lotus Bangles to those we wish to become betrothed to comes from... Collectively, the Regalia are known as the Fire Emblem, and only the true heir may wield them. Indeed, to the end of their lives, the sitting monarch carries one of the Regalia, before it is returned to Mt. Ignis... That said, the Lotus Staff is likely missing, as it was the Regalia Alphin favored... But if you are able to obtain the Tome or Sword, you can use it to prove yourself as the true queen." Emmerich explained.

"So basically you want a farm girl to go on a dangerous journey to collect a magic weapon and put a target on her back?" A voice came from the entrance. Felix walked back into the room, a tired and frustrated look on his face. "Just because some mark appeared on her leg? Don't you think that's unfair? Like forcing some grand role on someone who doesn't want it?"

"... Felix." Emmerich sighed. "How much did you hear?"

"All of it." Felix growled. "I was sitting outside by the window." He said. "... So just what choice are you giving her?" He asked.

"I am letting her choose. She can go back to her life or she can take the Regal's Rite, and-"

"You said it yourself! The country's going to descend into chaos if she doesn't do the damn rite! You're not actually giving her a real choice and you know it!" Felix snapped back.

Emmerich didn't have anything to say in response.

[User]
Katherine nodded, "I guess you're right....still it's hard to beleive."

She wasn't really surprised when Felix barged in. She was too shocked by all this, "....I mean, I certainly would do anything for Iris. And if there's some way for me to help, I guess I'll do it. It's better than just letting the country rot. What's my happiness compared to that? Besides, I doubt I could be knowing there was something I COULD do and not even try. Whether I want to or not doesn't really matter...."

Kathy closed her eyes and took a deep breath before exhaling. She opened them again and looked at Emmerich, her face stoic, "Tell me about the Regal's Rite..."

[Assistant]
Felix continued to scowl, even as Katherine spoke. The whole thing wasn't right. Suddenly there was a dead king, and she was just expected to do some big journey and put herself in danger. He couldn't stand it.

"Well... The Regal's Rite in and of itself isn't normally dangerous," Emmerich said after a few tense moments. "The worst of things is climbing Mt. Ignis. However, as things are, it's likely that you'll have to do the Rite as quickly as possible, before the banditry or any foreign elements begin to act up." He sighed. "Ideally I was to act as the guide for the Rite, but as things stand, I'd likely be a liability on the field, and even if I weren't, I've a duty to uphold the safety of the town, now more than ever." He explained. "But..." He pulled out a map and a pen, with which he circled Mt Ignis and Prima. "As you can see, Mt. Ignis is relatively close. Making it there should be no more than a 2 week's journey." He marked out a route. "This is the route I took with Prince Alphin. The trails are well maintained and usually safe until you reach the mountain. Once there, the Sages will test you, and as a final test, you're to claim one of the Three Regalia. It isn't anything too difficult, in theory."

"... But there's the risk of bandits and others who may potentially try to sabotage the Rite?" Felix asked, seeming more subdued now.

"Exactly..." Emmerich said. "It would be best to travel light, without a large contingent, as not to attract too much attention... And here." He marked on the map a location 2 days from the town. "This is the manor of the Lord of Prima. It may be a good place to prepare for the longer part of the journey. If you want, I can send word to the Lord to have you sent way with one of my Captains. Once there you can meet with one of the Lord's Honor Guard, who can protect you for the rest of the journey, until you've collected the Regalia."

[User]
"I see... but if it's so easy what stops someone from taking one? Like said bandits? It seems like climbing the mountain is the most difficult part, and I can't imagine them being afraid of climbing, especially for such prized items...What do the Sages do during the trials?"

Katherine shook her head, "With the way things are now, I'd imagine bandits and other worries like that will be commonplace. From what I hear they always were to an extent. So this doesn't change much. And I'd appreciate that, Emmerich. We can use all the help we can get."

[Assistant]
"The Regalia are themselves protected," Emmerich explained. "It would be difficult for anyone to reach them without the consent of the sages." He then closed his eyes. "As for the help... I wish I could afford a contingent, however, the one Captain I can loan is only until you reach the Lord's manor. I will need them back once you've reached that point, due to the increased risk of attack on the town." He sighed, clearly not any happier about what he was saying than Katherine would be.

"So you'll be having her travel with a complete stranger?" Felix asked. Everything since they'd gotten there was getting on his nerves.

"The Lord's guard is very capable. Any one of them will be more than enough to act as a bodyguard." Emmerich said.

Felix frowned as he resisted the urge to storm off again. He was entirely too tired for all this.

~~~The Night Before~~~

The castle was eerily quiet that night. The king had sent the majority of staff away to celebrate the meteor shower.

Least that was the pretense he'd given. The truth was, it was all in preparation. He knew that this night may be his last, ever since his fateful encounter six months before. He had to be ready, though. He'd vacated the castle to minimize the loss of life, and only a scant few attendants remained. That said, he needed to speak to those who did. As such, he called forth two of the Royal Wyvern Riders to his chamber.

"Ah, I'm glad to see you both," the king spoke once the two arrived on his balcony with their wyverns.

"Your Majesty," a female knight spoke. "Why have you called us here today?" She asked.

"You're Morrigan, yes?" The King asked. "And the young knight with you is Albert?" He continued.


[System]
WIP
Race: Ventus

Sex: Male

Age: 51

Appearance:
Eolas has the appearance of a rather standard Ventus, albeit and aged one. When standing straight, he reaches 7'3" but rarely does he walk fully upright these days. His skin is a slight purple-hued off leather color, somewhat similar to that of humans from the tropical reaches of Enduwin. His Adhark, the cartilage structures on his head, curve several inches up from his skull and are rather pronounced, something that comes with age. Wizened as he is, a small silver beard has set in around his mouth, though it is well kept.

As for attire, Eolas is almost exclusively seen adorning robes with an over cloak. Practical, many-pocketed clothing that's also relatively cheap. A thin oak walking stick is Eolas' eternal companion on his travels. His travelling bags too, are an ever present sight and contain coin, food, tomes, and a few odd artefacts.

History:
Born into a well-to-do family involved in Ozgart's main mining operation, Eolas certainly had a significant head-start to life in Vrent. The second of four siblings, Eolas had a sheltered but well taught childhood. Early in his teens, in emerging as his own person, he showed a bright spark for academic learning. His parents supportive of their child, and well aware how valuable a technical mind would be for their industry, Eolas was pushed to really pursue his studies. Straining the limits of his aptitude to learn early on, he quickly decided that pure academics were of greater interest to him. Eolas wasn't particularly close to any of his siblings. They all formed a happy family and he loves them dearly, but both of his brothers and his sister had wildly differing interests and opinions to him.

Thus, at the age of seventeen, when formally finishing his basic studies, he choose to pursue a path in the Vidril Of Knowledge. Though mildly disappointed in losing such an asset for their company, his parents were thrilled their son had carved his own path in life. The scholarly life suited the young Ventus, he worked many hours alongside teachers, researchers and field agents for the Vidril. Eolas had the greatest interest, in studying the Rapture, its causes and effects, though this was a great task, with so little information readily available. His formal apprenticeship with the Vidril lasted just over a decade, as was the norm. Entering into his own after, three years on he was given the full position of researcher with field duties for the Vidril of Knowledge.

The next two decades of his life are rather mundane, and not worth telling, as Eolas himself says. Some failed lovers, endless nights buried in ancient texts and a slow but respectable climb up the internal hierarchy of the Vidril. Indeed, only ten years into his tenure and his knowledge of the Rapture had grown enough for him to be considered the leading expert on the topic in Vrent. Though many refuted the validity of pursuing such knowledge, Eolas was well respected by both peers and students alike. When the then Speaker Of Knowledge chose to step down from the position to pursue her own personal life, Eolas was the 'in' shoe-in to take the position. Though, ultimately not becoming the Speaker, those close to him are aware he was offered the position, but is one of he only people in history to decline the role.

Fast forward to the present and Eolas has left the Vidril. Six months ago he signed his early retirement parchment, taking a small final lump endorsement and choosing to independently teach at a small facility in Sfel. Since then he has become a respected member of the local community in the port, a new and well-liked teacher for the town's children. In his own time, he still stays in contact with his family via letter, and spends many hours doing field work in a nearby set of ruins, thought to be the reason for his relocation.

[User]
Hector could only raise an eyebrow at their latest arrival. Everything about him seemed a tad...flashy (granted, Hector himself was still in his desert garb and that wasn't exactly subtle either). From the way he dressed and acted to the way he talked. Regardless, he smiled and introduced himself to the flamboyant knight. "Hector. Pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Sir Oliver." Then, much to Hector's surprise, they started to get up and leave the quiet and, as far as Hector was aware, secure tavern. And they were on a dock.

I got a bad feeling about this. He thought worriedly, standing up and following the group out. As expected on the only port town in all of Vrent, it was bustling with activity and people. Not that that concerned him. So long as he stayed as close as he could to their group, he wouldn't be lost in the crowd of giants. Unfortunately, his plan meant that he wasn't aware of where they were headed until it was far to late. Rather than heading towards a nice, abandoned, solid in the earth, warehouse, or something that was an equivalent, they were headed towards the sea. What's worse, they were headed towards a boat on the sea. Hector visibly paled, and cursed under his breath.

Boats. I hate boats. And the sea. And the motion of the sea. Why did I agree to a meeting on a port town of all places? They got on the boat, Hector's stomach already roiling and turning. "I hate boats. We'd better be getting paid up front for this." He groaned as they began to move out into the center of the bay and he tried to hold his breakfast in. Puking in front of his new employer wouldn't be a good way to make a first impression. On the other hand, the odds of him not puking were drastically decreasing the longer he was on this stupid boat. Things were made marginally better when money, and a lot of it judging from the looks on everyone's face. Hector, judging himself stable enough to not vomit, carefully leaned back from over the side of the boat and checked his pouch. "My my. You really do want to keep us silent." He muttered, looking up at his new employer.

Then his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open slightly, an incredulous laugh escaping him. A joke. Surely. He'll tell us the real job in a brief moment. He became reassured that the man wasn't joking when Sir Oliver's protest went on, quickly followed by Bakk and Ren's announcements. And still no revelation it was a joke came. Well. He is paying a lot of money. And it would be a lovely challenge. Especially with this...finesse lacking group. Fuck it. I'm in. But our good knight appears to be out.

Once everyone was done talking Hector, still leaning closely towards the side of the boat and looking decidedly nauseated, spoke. "If he's not going to participate in the theft, we should kill him. If he's a noble knight he might feel it his duty to notify the Speakers that we're going to try to steal the most highly prized religious relic in all of Vrent. If he's a greedy knight, despite his claims, he might realize there's a nice, safe, way to get a lovely reward from the Speakers by turning us in. If either of those happens, the Speakers will doubtlessly visit your tavern first, then the boat owner, and then you. We'll all be executed or worse, and he'll walk away richer and safer than ever. Even if he doesn't talk, the Speakers catch wind of this they'll start looking for anyone who can tell them information."

 "Unless he's planning on running back to Gallowmere or somewhere far away, they'll likely find him, torture him, and then make him tell them everything he knows. If we kill him, and let his body sink to the bottom of the sea, we have nothing to worry about." Hector gave a slightly apologetic shrug to Sir Oliver. "No offense, Sir Knight. You surely understand business. Of course, if enough of our group don't want to join this venture, we have nothing to worry about, for there won't be enough of us to even attempt this theft." Hector leaned back over his side of the boat, his stomach roiling, breathing in and out deeply. Don't vomit, don't vomit, don't vomit.

"Now for the love of the Gods can we get of this damned boat?"

[Assistant]
Brevana had observed the surplus arrivals and the group's departure from the docks in composed silence, boarded, rowed and ruminated in silence. It was with silence she declined the proffered pouch and steeled herself for the impossible task Eolas had presented. However, it was not with such reticence that she addressed the squabble that had erupted. "A tactless beast, a sea-sick midget of a man and a hesitant knight." announced the woman warrior with a harsh drawl. "If that is all those coins are worth you may all swim, such allies only distance us from our goal." With that her stare swept over those that had not as yet (albeit through inaction) revealed themselves to be anything but professionals. "As do these theatrics" she'd note with a finely honed sharpness.

"Ignorance is never advantageous Eolas." Brevana would assert, reigning in her tone to the sort of low, forceful hush that befits mantra as much as machination. "Would you not do well to remind those among us that have forgotten: none have taken more risk than our employer in assembling here, and that surely even a 'scholar' of the Red Way is not so misguided as to suggest such an endeavor on a whim." Though authored as a suggestion her words were all but the scolding of a misbehaved child, the remainder embogged by a cursory glance to the problematic trio for which it was surely intended. "So--as you must be eager to assure--what opportunity threatens to slip through our grasp? Or has the weight of a coming calamity merely forced your hand?" In truth she needed no convincing, even that much was obvious; an eye of the Transgressor seemed a worthy measure of her skills.

With that she found repose, posture settling as an arched brow bid reply of her cohorts; curious as to how this day would unfold.

[User]
The squabbling had gone on very well long enough now at thus stage, thought Eolas. Rocking back and forth in the small boat, he began to grow a little impatient. A man of great patience, something which went with his job as a teacher, even Eolas was physically unsettled and wanted to just get going.
"Enough Oliver. If you want out then leave us at the docks, but I do not have time to dilly-dally. I asked for you with reason, with an informed suggestion from a previous employer of yours."
Satisfied that he had tried to quiet the situation, Eolas saw Bakk remove the firm grip he had had on the wirey knight's shoulder.
"Let's row back." declared the scholar solemnly.

As they rowed back to dry land Eolas noticed Hector was visibly unnerved by the movements of the boat. Of course, he thought to himself. Hector is from the desert. How strange it must be for him.
Minutes later they rocked back onto the pier and moored the boat. Tipping the vessel's owner again, Eolas peeked around the corner of the dock wall alongside them, just as two Ulla strode into view.

Laughing to himself slightly he looked at oliver again.
"Leave sir knight if you will. Something tells me that you won't."
"And you," he said to Hector "our sunkissed companion, I hope you do better with spiders than you do with water!" chuckled Eolas.
With that, he gestured for the party to climb aboard the Ulla, thier hired and willing mounts.


[System]
'Sella'
♀

---

Abilities

Personality

Biography

[User]
If only... Brigitte...

It had been her last thought before the end.

A hope, a desire, that if she had to die, then perhaps there was some way.

How many times had her body been pierced? It was practically inconceivably she was still moving. So small, so frail, and yet she was on her feet.

The flesh of her arm split, ruptured blood vessels spraying red. Her internal organs were breaking down. She'd pushed herself harder then she ever had before.

Harder then she ever should have.

And yet, she smirked.

Very well. If they were to kill the Rime-Winged Vermilion Angel, she would show them exactly where their dedication ended. The destination at the end of their journey of zeal.

She stood in a field of frozen dead, forever locked away.

This cold place was her graveyard. The final spot she could recall anything before all faded to darkness.

If only...

And yet Aleksiya Ravennart found her eyes open.

It was strange. She certainly recalled her death, even if, obviously, she didn't remember dying per say. She remembered her entire body falling apart, the field of ice and dead she had created.

And yet now, here she was.

At least if she was going to awaken within a sarcophagus, it seemed to be one that befit her status.

She raised one hand to push at the lid.

Her thin, pale arm was entirely unblemished, not a single sign of her death. Certainly, she didn't expect scars, but given the state of her body on death, it was almost strange to see it fully intact once again.

Raising her other arm, she pushed the sarcophagus lid up and to the side.

"... How dismal."

Perhaps she should have been more grateful to be alive(or rather undead) once again. But the small vampire's thoughts, incohesive as they were, found themselves resting on the deplorable state of the garden. What a shame. It had been lovely, once, but now it was withered and decayed. It would have been far nicer to awaken in more upbeat surroundings.

Awaken.

She placed a hand to her chest, running it all over her body.

As her thoughts steadily cleared, Aleksiya's grasp of her situation began to solidify. She was well and truly undead once more. She could move. She could think.

And the yawning pit in her stomach indicated she could most certainly feel hunger.

Her entire body felt stiff, tightened up. Just as if she awakened from a long nap in an awkward place, the childish vampire stretched her arms, trying to ward off the stiffness. Indeed, she could feel the tenseness almost immediately dissipate.

A dismal location, to be certain. But she could see the familiar silhouette of a familiar place in the distance.

The vampire hopped to her feet, brushing herself off as she did.

"Ah, after such a long nap, I was hoping there would be breakfast," she complained, jokingly, to herself. Though to be truthful, her lament wasn't entirely a joke. She could feel the hunger eating away at her, no matter her composure.

Aleksiya stepped out of her coffin, running her fingers through her silken hair as she adjusted her clothing. They'd even preserved her favorite dress? She was certainly pleased by that. It was far better then the alternative.

That crimson voice that leaked into her thoughts could only be one person. Or rather, one goddess.

Ichor's call, to guide her to the Alvaris Cathedral. Hopefully, she could address her hunger on the way. She was not eager to lose her composure by failing to feed quickly enough.

Ah, but she wasn't alone, was she?

@Pyromania99@Click This

[Assistant]
Dragan Meszaros

The Last Age

The lord of this land fell to one knee, his mace clattering from his hands as battle wounds, silver, and holy smites took their toll upon his ravaged form and rent armor. Numerous paladins surrounded him in his throne room, each mightier than he had been in his mortal life.

"It is over, Death Knight." One particularly mouthy champion uttered from within his bucket helm. "The shame you bring upon your church, upon your brothers, upon my order, shall be ended at last."

Ah. That explained it. They'd been pledged to the same deity at some point in time. Separated by centuries, of course, but the sentiment apparently still stood. Self-righteous fools.

"Allow me to extend my congratulations, brothers and sisters." Dragan chuckled mockingly, ripping his helm off his head. It wasn't as if he had any need for it anymore. Not with his unlife fast approaching its end. "In slaying me, you have doomed the people of this land. In assauging your precious egos and pride, you have stripped away any bastion of safety and security that any person within this kingdom could have had. After I butchered their mad tyrant of a king, this is the first time that this realm has seen stability and peace within decades. And you've all just stripped it away. No armies defending their borders. My presence stayed the hand of vampires that would have been worse than myself eyeing this territory."

A bitter, rasping laugh escaped his lips even as his vision blurred.

"But by all means, crusade onward. Leave the shattered lives of an entire kingdom behind. You've more creatures of the night to slay, after all..." Dragan spoke his last, the final dregs of his strength expended as his body succumbed, collapsing.

___

Present Day

Dragan rose, and was given succor. An unfamiliar setting greeted him, and he frowned from...beneath his helm? A quick inspection of his body revealed that he was still wearing his armor, damaged as it was from his final battle. How odd. He could have sworn that he'd at least died without his helmet on. Still, while the plate was servicable in its current state, it was far from acceptable. That would have to be fixed after he got a handle on his surroundings and dealt with the thirst creeping up within him.

He was in...the middle of a city slum? This certainly wasn't where he'd died. Someone had moved his body. Their bodies, judging by the forms of the occupants of the other two sarcophagi rising from their torpor as well. And yet...ah. A familiar sight at last. The Cathedral. They were in Alavaris, then. Safe ground, at least in theory.

The Death Knight removed his helm as he beheld his two compatriots, tucking it under his shoulder. Well, well. He was at least familiar with the other two. The love martyr, and the shadow witch. Dragan certainly could have had better companions at the moment. Still, he could also have had worse. After all, neither were the Blight Lord, though that was certainly an admittedly low bar.

With no one else saying anything for the moment, it fell to him to break the ice.

"Well met, the both of you. Our goddess has given us a call to answer. Shall we oblige her?"

[User]
Giselle de FarryUndead Princess, de Farry

---

Her eyes opened to an unfamiliar ceiling.

However long her slumber might have been, the fall to her was just yesterday.

Just yesterday that she had failed her most sacred duty as a sovereign, to that of her people—to protect and lead them in their time of need. Just yesterday were those darkest days, in which every safeguard, carefully cultivated and shepherded over countless centuries, came crumbling to an end as the men of the hundred paladins finally came thundering through the mountain passes, the rivers, the fields, the trenches, and finally, the city walls.

For all of her overtures of peace, to gain an understanding, to bridge the gap to a… careful coexistence, with a deft blow, they had shattered what she had so carefully built.

In doing so, in their ignorance, they had doomed the last sliver of land untouched by war and the blight of a dying age.

By not stopping them, she had damned the people of her land, humans, vampires —her friends-- to a shattered, pitiful end.

She had made a last, futile stand in the field. As a vampire and a great lord, she would not debase herself to selfishly await death in a throne room, long after her loyal subjects had expended themselves in her name. No; they had come for her, for who she was, perhaps what she represented, but not, perchance, her cause.

It was a fight she gave, and if her end gave her enemies a reason to spare who remained, or to even allow them to escape, then all the better to die with a sword in her hand.

Yet the bitter regret of failure remained. It could have all turned out so differently.

Giselle de Farry had died, along with those that she had failed to protect. Yet now, she existed once more, within this elegant, but poor substitute for a proper bed. Why, then, had her goddess deigned to grace her with undeath once more?

She remained still for some time, staring up at the carved lid above her long after she had awakened, a single teardrop falling from her eyes and down the pale skin of her face.

It was only then that she rose, somberly, lifting the sarcophagus lid aside so that she could figure out where she was.

Devoid of light, and ruined as it was, she was in some manner of courtyard garden. She could tell, once upon a time, that it had been a grand and beautiful one, a fitting sepulcher for a vampire lord –or lords, for who else could lie in tombs as elaborate as her own had been?—to lie in state. That this place existed at all, with those dying, awful days, was a complete mystery to her. By the very end, there was precious little to give respect to the lords of the undead, let alone their desecrated remains in the aftermath of the paladins.

Yet, as she examined herself, running her fingers over the cold, pale, and unblemished skin that she knew from unlife, it was clear that this was not the broken body that she had left in her last hour. Even her favorite dress, woven by her own hands, remained untouched, something surprising but welcome, considering such artifacts would likely have been put to the torch after her death. Would it be that the same could be said for her maids and loyal friends…

It was obvious that some manner of sorcery had happened, but the magnitude and manner of it, she could not yet fathom.

Standing up, she took in the rest of her environment. A dead city greeted her, emphasized by the lightless world that she found herself in. How much time had passed? Yet this place remained familiar. She was in Alavaris, with its cathedral in its rightful place in the northern skyline. She even remembered a familiar voice as she gazed upon it, though she frowned as the vague feeling coalesced enough that she could recall the curt form of address that she had been given in that memory. She had to make a wry smile at that. She gave her goddess her due respects, but they hadn't always seen eye to eye philosophically.

Giselle replaced the lid where it belonged, before taking a seat atop her sarcophagus. Hungry and melancholic as she was, she was not alone, after all, as she watched the nearby lids of her counterparts open.

It seemed her counterparts for this lovely evening was to be a certain annoying cleric, and the Rime-winged Angel. Unfortunate, perhaps, especially given the presence of the former, as she had wished to be alone with her thoughts for longer, but she was glad all the same to see former allies and compatriots in this new undeath.

"Greetings, and good morning. It seems we have been summoned once more, for better or for worse."