[System]
The Chimera of Lynore

To the south, the province of Lynore was home to schemes most foul. Ideas cooked up to create life rather than simply control it led to a partnership between a druid and alchemist. Their intention was to harness the strengths of the wild and tame them through combination as to make profit off of anyone who would pay for their creations. Bear-shark-humanoids, snake-dogs, and what would later become Luciel was a shift in direction from simply making monstrosities to appealing the everchanging tastes of humanity.
Luciel is one of about 60 such creations intended as servants, the exotic features of otherwise docile creatures serving to doll up what was essentially a small human. Ears and the tail of a rabbit, antlers of a deer and the eyes and fangs of a cat, this variant became popular in the region and were kept by nobles as pets, servants...and such.
Luciel appears around 14ish for his relatively short stature of nearly 4'9. He was personally tailored for the duke's son and carries wavy pink, shoulder-length hair from which matching bunny ears poke out from. Their left ear holds three small silver studs, linked together by a fine chain. Sports two antlers, each with three points. Ruby red eyes cut with cat-like pupils.
Luciel could be described as beautiful in an androgynous way; a lithe slim frame and a porcelain pale doll-like complexion from being confined indoors for most of his life. This is marred by a darkness under his eyes from nights spent laying awake and lingering bruises of various forms, hidden under his clothes from treatment which only ended roughly two or three days prior.

Observably (at least at the start of the thread), Luciel is shrouded in a large section of tapestry likely stolen from the manor of his previous master and wrapped around his figure to obscure all but the shadow of a nose poking out from how he bundled it all like a cloak. The material is tattered and torn in places from a very inconvenient walk through bushes and brush.

Underneath this is his 'servant' attire consisting of a short sleeved white buttoned down shirt under a black vest. Snug black shorts adorned with a long chain wrapping around his waist with slack hints to a pocketwatch, likely stolen. Knee-high boots (3 inch flat-soled heels) with black mid-thigh stockings fixed with garters running up his shorts.

Not his first choice of attire, it lends the question of what his purpose was.
Inventory: A simple pocketwatch, a simple shortsword pillaged from a dead sailor as well as a light crossbow. Two ornate rings too big for him to wear...likely stolen. A keyring holding various pieces of slim metal beaten into the shape of a makeshift lockpick set. Two flasks found at the scene of the wreck which Luciel assumed was water until getting his first taste, their contents seem to serve well for aiding in starting fires, though (sailors' rum).

Enhanced senses - The splice of cat-like eyes gives Luciel superb vision in most lighting scenarios. However, pitch black is still pitch black. His ears allow even a very weak form of echolocation due to their discerning sensitivity (However, this makes him susceptible to sonic damage)

Lockpicking - Leading up to his escape, Luciel had plenty of practice in picking locks to undo his binds. However, magical locks are beyond his expertise.

Natural Weapons - Animalistic by a latent primal nature; though his fangs may be small, determination and their sharpness make a bite from Luciel a suitable deterrent in a pinch. Alternatively, the points of his antlers are whittled sharp.

Through his pact with the abyssal entity which he refers to as "O'Distant Fish", Luciel has an affinity for illusion and ice magic.

Examples of illusions usually work in the way of camouflage which is especially effective in the shadows which he can almost seamlessly blend into if not moving.
As for ice, his strength lies in distractions. Chilling moisture in the air, Luciel can summon small clouds of chilled moisture to distract or temporarily blind those it consumes with the exception of himself. This is mostly to buy time for a precision strike from conventional weapons or to obscure his movement.

Most variations of these spells require verbal and somatic commands to conjure. Being bound hinders their effectiveness while being silenced in any way prevents spellcasting.
Personality: Luciel is soft spoken and often comes off as timid, though he has developed a nasty habit of 'fear biting'. He is inexperienced with the world and is often seen as naive or even foolish, though has enough street smarts and common sense to avoid dangerous situations if possible. Repeated abuse has worn down any love he would have towards humans as well as inherent disposition, leaving him almost seeming 'hollow' at times. Outside of this, Luciel is excitable and eccentric when expressing emotions. Curious of this new world outside of servitude, he has a distinct fascination with the accumulation of knowledge and an abstract method of defining experiences and that which he witnesses in an almost poetic way.

Speaking ill of the dead is not my intention, as they are gone and cannot hear my words no matter how loud I scream.
Existence came as suddenly as one would wake from sleep, and all I knew since then has been one nightmare after the other. It begins with a monster of a man and his monster of a son and ends with both of them dead for their vileness. There would have likely been more, but I was smart enough to know when it was time to leave.
I had spent maybe a day on the run before coming across the perfect place to rest. Unbeknownst to me, the crate of linins was bound to be transferred by boat to destinations unknown to me. Wherever it was, the ship would not reach it as the force of a storm toppled the craft.
To this day, I'm not entirely certain how I survived. I dreamt of a creature within the darkness of the waves who came to my aid, massive as the shore as black as night. Though it did not speak, we came to an understanding that my mortality was left to its mercy and that it had no interest in my soul at that moment. Though I did not hear it speak, I knew words which it etched into my mind; formless syllables and cryptic verses whose very recollection brought power through even the vaguest attempts to pronounce them.
...Existence returned to me as suddenly as one would wake from sleep, dashed upon the shore with the corpses of sailors and passengers as well as their cargo. Quickly collecting what I could, I fled from the shore with no direction or plan.

I was free, whatever that meant. It didn't take long to find a suitably large cave which I intended to take shelter in while endeavoring to collect myself for what was now where my new life began.

Other
- Given the region which he learned to speak in, Luciel carries a bit of an accent vhich I vill be inflictink upon readers. On top of this, his linguistics are shoddy at times and the prose with which he speaks is often either over formalized or abstract like internal musings, a testament to the depth of his mistreatment.
- Opposed to the nature of the entity he made a pact with, Luciel is a less than impressive swimmer. If anything, he has a bit of hydrophobia for any amount of water more than waist deep.

[User]
"Hey." She said, exasperated Victor put his hand on Luciel's back and directed him away toward the group. She had seen stubborn mules be dragged off with less resistance, and as the little guy glanced back she wasn't sure what he expected from her. She hopped from one food to another anxiously and looked back at Rose. The whole point had been to get away from that witch woman and now her only pretexts was gone. Reluctantly, Gish made her way forward.

Rose said a bunch of stuff about the Endless Halls that she didn't even know what to make of. There were as many stories about the halls as there were fish in the sea, but only the bravest of all adventurers came down here seek the countless treasures and court the countless dangers. She hadn't ever heard of anyone being brought here without seeking it, but then again that's isn't the sort of person equipped to make it back. Someone exactly like her, come to think of it.

Then again, maybe she had been seeking the Halls. She couldn't remember. How would she know? Her head hurt.

"Gish." She quickly answered when Rose asked, then quickly slapped her hands over her mouth. She'd gotten so distracted thinking she'd just gone a given her name to a witch just because she'd been pointed at. Not her real name, thankfully, but one you used so much it's how you think of yourself in your head surely had some power, didn't it?

[Assistant]
The spider woman visibly relaxed and appeared more than willing to hold to her word. Extending her legs out she hoped to get them back in working order. Even if Mathias meant her no harm there was no telling what else might happen by. Being prone would not do either of them well. Keeping an eye out she did not pay a terrible amount of attention to what the man was doing but she did listen. "I am slightly peckish but while I was in the water I did not expend very much energy." Her gaze was drawn downward at the sound of something dropping beside her.

Taking the small portion of food she pulled a small bit off and sampled it. Human food was not something she ever had much of, preferring meals that were fresh and liquified. The staleness of the biscuit was irrelevant to her, entirely unsure what the taste and texture should be. Still she could eat such food most of the time. "Thank you." Finding the taste tolerable she ate it while Mathias spoke.

Her attention returned as introductions were made. By the tone though she could tell that he was ill or the like. She showed some concern as she replied. "It is a pleasure, Mathias. You can call me Lila... Are you injured?" Making an effort she got up off the ground on her eight legs. Her movements were surprisingly silent given her size. Moving over to Mathias she tried to identify any wounds.

[User]
The whole group introducing themselves after him was certainly useful... though it was obvious to him that Rose knew of his true 'nature'. He gripped Luciel's shoulder a bit tighter as she had winked at him... though it seemed she was in no hurry to reveal what he was to the others which was certainly good. The group went about introducing themselves, Rose went first clearly being a witch, but trying tokemnly to hide that fact. Next was his chosen prey, the little rabbit eared boy introduced himself as Luciel 'The Lost' in his rather strange accent. After him the sqat woman from behind approached and revealed her name was gish, the strange little human like creature with a fittingly strange name. Well, he supposed it was his turn.

Although I have already said it, no reason not to again. I, am Ser Victor Guttman, no title to my name but hopefully one may be forthcoming.", he smiled at the little group, all was going quite well... and he liked the sound of this 'Endless caverns' full of riches and power. "Well, now thhat we are all aquainted I believe we should press on no? If these 'Endless caverns' are full of treasure and power I see no reason for us not to seek it, eh Luciel?", he smiled as he tussled the boys hair, attempting to manufacture a relationship between himself and the prey so that when he seperated from the group to feed it would be less suspicious. He turned to Rose, the other important member of the group seeing as she clearly knew what he was, "How much do you know of these caverns Madame Rose? Shall we simply amble in the first direction we can think of, or do you have more of aa path in mind?"

Honestly Victor hardly cared, he was certain there were riches to be found and a fight to be had no matter what way they went, be it Drow or other subterranean beasts... possibly even deeper more dangerous and mysterious things may lurk... well, they would never know if all they did was sit around this damnnable fire all day long would they?

[Assistant]
The grip on Luciel's shoulder worked a wince from the chimera as the armored fingers kneaded at one of his bruises. It was funny...no, it wasn't funny...how the sting of a thrown shoe could be invoked so simply by a heavy hand. The way Victor reacted to the woman's looks struck Luciel as being a bit odd as her smile seemed enviously genuine on top of a playful wink. Where anyone else, even the antisocial creature in Victor's grip, would feel even the slightest bit of reassurance, the knight appeared uneasy.
It was more aristocratic tact, she knew something and knew Victor knew what she knew, that much was obvious. However, it was his behavior in response and the dull ache resonating from Luciel's shoulder that gave cause to worry what kind of information it could be.
Regardless of the context of their exchange, Luciel had no intention of being further harmed by humans caught in the emotional heat of conversation. A casualty of lingering passions, he was free from such pointless exertions and was not about to let himself be dragged back.

"Zeht hurts, you know" They grumbled, reaching to pull the hand off before it lifted to tussle his hair. The shift was a bit surprising as he froze, the gauntlet scratching at the base of his ears as hair fell down his face. Quickly recovering, Luciel swatted at the hand with his own two in a flustered manner before going to work finger-combing the wavy mess back to the way he liked it. In the effort, he almost dropped the cloak which didn't have any means to be fastened as to hold itself up. "P-please do not do zeht, Sir Guttman" he growled, the shake still in his voice and a light blush slightly obscured by the tapestry.

Their ears stood up with a small jingle of the chain at the mention of adventuring deeper into the cave. Luciel's plan had been to rest a day before moving on, but the logic of remaining in the cave began to settle in. Outside, the world might swallow him up at any moment, a single human with the notion of greed could have him back in irons, but this small group didn't seem to have such intentions. On top of this, the idea of power was tempting as the strength to protect himself was worth more than his preference of being alone. Sir Victor and Rose appeared to be accomplished in their craft, and the opportunity to claim treasures for himself would almost certainly present itself.

"If zee halls are endless, zehn vould it matter?" Luciel asked in response to Victor's question regarding which way they should go, a bit more energy in his tone as he started to warm up to the idea of being a part of the group. He then suggested, mostly out of the anxiety of standing around in the light, "Vee need only take zeh first steps"


[System]
Appearance:

Race: Human
Class: Paladin
Main-Hand Weapon: Longsword
Off-Hand Weapon: Kite Shield, Steel
Secondary Weapon: Greatsword
Armor: Full Plate
Powers: None - his faith is all the power he needs.
Skills:
Diplomacy - Carver is a great communicator, able to get what he wants out of people by being straightforward with them. In additon, his palpable earnestness and good looks tend to make him very popular wherever he goes.
Knowledge of Religion - Having lived in a monastery all his life, he knows a fair deal about the various faiths of the realm.
Tenacity - With faith as his armor and honor his shield, there his little Carver cannot endure - he will get back up and get back up and get back up.
Weaknesses: Cannot tell a lie to save his life.
Utterly shackled to the (very rigid) moral codes of his order.
Personality: Carver is the quintessential knight - he is obsessed with justice, honor, courage, and compassion. He's a compulsive do-gooder and sometimes a bit of a stick in the mud, and sometimes he can be a little too sure of his own judgements, but he is really, fundamentally a good person out to spread good into the world. In combat, he is a protective fighter - a blow will not fall on his comrades if it may fall on him instead, and he prioritizes a solid defense over any kind of offense.
Background: Carver was born in a great city far to the north, and given over by his parents at a young age to the local order of holy warriors. He was brought up as a crusader, a servant of the goddess of the sun and compassion, and taught his whole life the virtues of justice, integrity, and faith. Now, as part of his Crusader's Rite of Passage, he has journeyed to the south, seeking to right the wrongs, uplift the downtrodden, and spread the radiant light of the sun to all dark corners of the world.
Other:

[User]
Furnace cocked his head slightly as he processed her words.
He followed her, slowly waving the tall grass out of his face.
"Of course you can. Choosing to do or not do is how you express who you are.
And what you do, create or destroy, that is you.
So how could you not be you?"

[Assistant]
Alula growled again, her anger growing despite her fatigue. She looked up anxiously at the setting sun. It would set any minute now, she needed to be rid of the gnome and the others. She needed to out distance between them. She glanced into the woods, which still seemed so far away. She wished that Carver would break through the tree line, he would be able to convince the gnome to cease his questions. She was getting stressed.

And when the gnome spoke again she stopped walking, angrily planting her staff into the ground. She tried to control her apparent rage.

"We are not all...blessed...with your...level of...expression." She growled, repeating his words. "We do not...get to...choose the life we...live."

She started walking again, hoping to leave the gnome behind her.

"And yet...I am myself..."

[User]
Furnace was relentless, not recognizing anger or stress.
"So then it's like channeling energy, just cause I can doesn't mean you can?
I was able to share that with the friend collector though.
Let me help you be you. And make the choices you want."

[Assistant] As night falls lights can be seen in the town coming from enemy torches. Most of these lights leave and wander out of town while others search the perimeter. None are near the heroes, YET. The five that are searching are making sure to look into the woods and while Kelvin's contraption blocks out eyes from the town, it won't avoid the notice of these guys. Will the team decide to run deeper and face whatever lies in the woods or stay and fight the five and hope none brings backup.

[User]
Carver was still carrying the witch back to camp when he saw them. Five torches fanning through the woods. Survivors? No. Any townspeople who were still alive would have the good sense not to carry bright lights when trying to evade the army that had just destroyed their town. No, these were almost certainly foes, searching for survivors of the attack. And they were headed right for the camp.

For the umpteenth time that day, Carver broke into an agonizingly slow run, finally breaking into the clearing where the rest of the party was. "Friends, they come! Five foes bear down on us, and I fear there is no time for us to run." He set the witch down gently on a blanket, somewhat guilty of his petty rough treatment of her earlier.

He drew his sword and began gesturing around the camp. "I will try to take the worst of it. My gnomish friend, I know not how much energy remains within you, but use what you can to direct the foes to me. My lady Alula, please take the child and climb back to that tree, that we might protect the two of you more easily. Kelvin, I want you to remain at the base of the tree and shoot anything that gets too close. Separ, stay with me in front - they'll hit me, and then you'll hit them back harder. And, half-elf..." He glanced around. "Has anyone seen the half-elf?"

The paladin shrugged, and placed his helmet back on his head.

[Assistant]
Already Khat had wandered into the woods in the direction a set of foot prints went, she guessed they were Vis' as they were large and he had stated earlier that he was heading to a stream, his lateness was indicative of finding one. As she walked, she pulled her white linen head scarf around her neck, as it was a chilly evening. In the distance, she saw a figure move casually in her direction and as it got closer, she saw that it was Vis, casting a green glow from his eye. She regarded him coolly.

"Vis," she said calmly, crossing her arms as she stood in front of him, she took this time to really look at the man who had pulled her out of the crate. He was skinny for an adult and very secretive, as he always had that scarf around his face, not once lowering it. Khat copied him, pulling up her scarf to hide her face, "I'm thirsty."

"Hi Thirthty, I'm Vis." he joked dryly, looking down at her and casting a green glow on her freckled face, he noted that she had taken her scarf off of her head, showing the world her long red hair, "There ith a pond clothe by, come on." Vis lead her to the watering hole but the closer he got, the more cautious he became. I spluttering yellow light shone in the distance, it was a torch light and the figure beneath the light was clearly a raider, in the black tunic and holding a sword.

Vis snapped to a wide eye'd Khat, "Up tha three!" he hissed, as he helped her climb up to a branch. Once safely high above the forest and tucked into the leaves of the tree, Vis deposited his armor and gear at the foo of the tree, instead pulling out his dagger and dropping into a crouch.

From up in her treetop vantage, Khat watched as Vis slunk towards the light. From this height she could see the raider clearly, he was kneeled by the pond and was drinking. As Vis approached, it appeared as if killing the man would be no problem but the man was fast. He had spotted Vis in the reflection of the dark water and had spun around. Vis that quick, he couldn't get the man with the dagger as he could easily block with the torch but the man had yet to reach for his sword. So as he sprinted down to the enemy, he stooped and scooped a fist full of dirt and threw it at the man's face, momentarily blinded Vis took his chances.

He hurled himself at the man and they both toppled into the pond, Vis on top of the raider. Quickly, Vis grabbed the man's head and pushed it under water, struggling to hold down the thrashing brute. From atop the tree, Khat could see that the thrashing was getting weaker and the bubbles to the surface less frequent, until the body was still. She could never imagine doing that and grinned as the body floated to the surface.

The pair returned to campo and in unison hissed, "The raiders are in the forest!"

[User]
Alula was close to lashing out on the gnome. She wouldn't hurt him, or at least not intentionally. Just enough to spook him away from her, so she could sneak off into the trees. She growled, gripping her staff tighter. Her voice was showing that same amount of corruption as before, but far weaker. Her voice lacked confidence but made up for that in anger.

"We do not need you to tell us who we are. I know who I am."

Alula's luck continued to run out as Carver broke through the treeline, carrying the hooded woman with the punching man behind him. She was hoping he would be able to sense her distress, and pick the gnome off her her, but instead he brought more bad news.

More attackers. She didn't have time for this. She couldn't stay. If she did they would have more then just five attackers to deal with. She shook her head when Carver tried to get her up into the tree, his direction would have been disastrous.

"No. No no no no." She said, panic and corruption taking over her calm disposition. "I cannot stay and I do not need protection, you do."

She shook her head again, looking anxiously up at the sky. The sun was gone and soon the moon would take its place. Without looking at the gathered party Alula moved past them, trying to speed up her limping walk.

"I must go." She repeated. She did not fear the enemies in the woods. They should be fearing her. She could see the first rays of moonlight. Her hair was glowing.

[Assistant]
Carver whirled at the sound of the pair's voice. "Friends! Come, quickly. We must make a stand here. Look after the child, half elf. I will draw our foe's attention."

Alula stumbled back, staring at the sky. Carver looked at her as she began to stumble away, towards the woods - towards the enemies. As he watched, her hair began to glow again - silver, like the moon. Was she about to enter the same state she'd been in during the battle? That would be catastrophic - there would be no hiding their position from the main body of the foes if she were to begin firing off moonbeams again. She needed to be calmed down before she transformed.

The paladin hurried to the girl and spun her around to face him. "My lady," he said, calmy, in spite of the light spreading over her, "If you go into those woods, you will die. You say that we are the ones in need of protection, and this may be so. But I carry my protection with me, and I do not fear. Stay close behind me, and I will protect you. I swear."

[User]
She was turned around to face Carver, her glowing hair drifting around her without weight. Her eyes were glowing slightly and her expression was one of restraint. Her entire body trembled, as if something was trying to escape from within her. It was taking all of Alula's strength and resolve to keep herself composed. She seemed to relax for a moment as Carver spoke to her, her glow dying down slightly, but moments later it came back even stronger. Alula trembled again. Even her voice sounded strained.

"I do not doubt for a moment that you would be able to protect me." She paused a moment, eyes squeezed shut. "But this is...beyond me..." A shaky exhale, squeezing her eyes shut tighter. "The creatures in the woods cannot kill me, they are too late for that."

Alula opened her eyes, brightly glowing and yet still displaying desperation.

"You have to trust me. Please." She begged. "I will...return...eventually..." Her voice lacked confidence. "It is only the night. It's who we are. It's part of me." Another violent shake, a curse in a foreign language.

"I am dangerous. I don't want to hurt anyone else."

[Assistant]
Separ
Separ walked towards Carver and placed a hand on his armored shoulder. "Carver, if she insists on going then we should not stop her. Let us instead focus on fighting by her side. The enemies are dangerous after all, me and the girl back there almost died and this fight may end with the same outcome or worse. Let's just do what we can alright?" Separ turned towards Alula looking at her directly. "I'll back you up any way I can if you have some sort of plan?" Rushing the enemy felt reckless to Separ, but he knew there wasn't much of a choice. Those scouts would find them eventually if they didn't now, defeating them now would be the best option. Though it would probably also be a good idea to relocate camp afterwards, seeing as sooner or later the other raiders will notice the disappearance of this squad.

Separ took a deep breath trying to collect himself as he still felt rather tired from everything that had happened. Taking off his backpack he laid it behind a tree a few meters away from the group. Alright, now I can move a little bit better, but still this is going to be tough. Separ turned towards Carver and walking towards him whispered. "So, are you ready to do this then? I'll be right behind you the whole time."

[User] The five scouts started to move in closer to where the crew was positioned. One noticed movement and the scouts started racing to where the movement was spotted. Time until they reach the camp: Five minutes of game time

[Assistant]
Carver nodded to Separ hesitantly. "I... yes. You are right. We will do what we can. Stay close behind me, Separ. When their mightiest blows fall upon my guard, that is when you must strike. My lady... do what you must, but stay safe, and keep the light displays to a minimum. Everyone else behind me. Our priority is protecting the child."

With that, he strode forward and slowly, rhythmically, began to pound the hilt of his sword against his shield. His mind wandered back to another time, when a much younger man by his name had done much the same thing.

Sir Greenvale was striding in front of the line of recruits. The man was like a cliff face - huge, imposing, unyielding. He scanned the line with impassive eyes, and at length asked a question. "Does the Paladin fear pain?"

As once, the recruits beat their shields and answered. Clang."No!"

"Does the Paladin fear disgrace?"
Clang. "No!"

"Does the Paladin fear death?"
Clang. "No!"

"What does the Paladin fear?"
Clang. "Failure!"

The hammering intensified, growing louder with every blow. Carver would not fail. "On me, friends! They draw near!"


[System]
Username: Ink Blood
Race/Species: Human- Half Banian/ Half Vrettonian

Gender: Male

Age: 25

Career/Class: Darkslayer

Weapons:

* Estoc with silver-laced valdium blade
* Silver dagger
* Hunting knife

Physical Description (as detailed as possible please, pictures not accepted.): Gaderon stands at 5'11" with a lithe but solid frame. He shares the fair skin of his Banian roots but has a lighter shade of brown hair from his mother's bloodline. He keeps his shoulder-length hair tied back in a half ponytail. His eyes are a piercing, ice blue. His facial structure is an interesting combination of his Banina and Vrettonian, giving him a squared jawline and high cheekbones. The most distinguishing factor to Gaderon, though, is a large scar across the left side of his face reminiscent of a bolt of lighting. It begins just above his eyebrow and runs clear down just below his mouth in a jagged line that branches of across the bridge of his nose and several other places. To stave off the cold of his homeland, he usually wears a thick shirt under his armored chest piece, a long cuffed coat, and high boots. Since coming to south, though, Gaderon has taken to wearing a thin shirt open at the chest with shorter sleeves and leaves his coat slung across his bag.

Armor: Gaderon is usually clad in a leather chest piece overlaid with chainmail.

Equipment/Other

* Grey horse named Cinder
* Simple trail rations
* 2 Waterskins
* Fire starting kit
* Holy symbol of Bael
* Belt pouch full of various ingredients used in fighting different creatures.
* Journal

Mental Description/Personality: Gaderon is a headstrong person confident (some would say arogant) in his own abilities. Because of this, he finds himself being skeptical of others' abilities on a subconscious level, preferring to do things himself if possible, at times being stubborn and still attempting to do them himself. He is also a very studious and inquisitive person, constantly observing his surroundings, especially people. He has earned himself a reputation in specializing in finding the creatures that hide amongst their potential prey. As he observes so much, Gaderon usually has very little to say or contribute as far as conversation goes, but when he does talk he can be long winded at times. Despite this, he's friendly enough, not too standoffish in terms of his personality, but his scar tends to intimidate the more faint of heart. Gaderon doesn't mind people avoiding him much, usually wanting to be left to his thoughts and observations or studies of various creatures.

Goals: Gaderon began his journey south when tracking a banshee from his homeland and found monsters he had not faced or studied before as well as variations of monsters he had faced before, so he continued his journey to study new monsters and learn what he could of them. His studies and jobs continued leading him further south.

Background/History:

* Gaderon is born to his Banian father and Vrettonian mother, who lived on the border between the two countries.
* Gaderon's uncle on his mother's side takes him on as an apprentice to train him as a Darkslayer as well as dueling styles of Vretttonia.
* Gaderon begins keeping his own journal about the creatures he hunts and studying them on an almost obsessive level.
* Gaderon becomes well known while under his uncle's tutelage when he helps destroy a pair of vampires that were terrorizing a village near the border of Andred.
* Gaderon is wounded by one of the vampires and almost succumbs to his wounds and the sickness caused by them.
* Gaderon strikes out on his own as a full fledge Darkslayer at the age of twenty-three and continues studying the creatures he was taught to kill, determined to shed new light on them and find cures to some if possible.

[User]
As the scouting party approached the fire several things became clear. For one the source was a village, though you wouldn't be able to hear it from the deathly silence. The second was that this was unlikely to be a dragon attack as there was less fire than one would expect of such an event. A single look down the main road showed the scene Alice wished she had not seen coming. Seen coming, but couldn't have prepared for. A voice spoke somewhere in her head, though it took her a few moments to comprehend it. Bodies lay strewn and tossed aside all around, so many... She'd rarely seen a battle so devastating, and never against such hapless combatants. A dog lay in two pieces over there, a child leaned up against the wall with their father shot down in front of them, the grey eyes staring blankly at the fallen guardian, at least where they weren't being picked at by flies. She became aware of the fact she was shaking her head, her eyes surveying the scene but her neck and head moving to try and reject the it all in a primitive gesture.

She got a hold of herself, closing her eyes and clasping her hands out in front of her. They shook greatly, though as she gripped she slowly felt the blood return along with her true senses. She had been trained for this, she had been dazed by all this. Many spells had the same effect, and she was glad she had her training to latch onto. She became aware of the ringing in her ears and the pressure built up in them and her temples, but slowly that subsided too, or at least suppressed. She re-opened her eyes, and this time treated the scene with the melancholy needed. A sweet scent lingered upon the air, she noted and connected it mechanically to the bodies left out. She took a step forward and swayed, feeling bile rise. She may have disconnected her mind from body, but her body was far from connected from the world. She once again steadied herself and proceeded forward slower this time, staying alert.

This place had been raided by some sort of humanoid force, dragon's claws were much larger than the gashes and gouges left upon the unfortunates (which she did not look upon too closely still, her stomach making sure it was felt in her chest at every eye movement). There was no doubt that this raid was for more than just riches though, for one there would be survivors otherwise. For two, these bodies were displayed. Alice began to theorise this might be the work of Dark Elves, who delighted in such acts as these, but these weapons didn't fit her knowledge of the people. She conceded her knowledge was limited though, and there was no doubt that attacks like this would become commonplace whether orchestrated by Elves or not should the party fail in their quest.

Onwards through this terrible place she drove, not looking back for her companions but instead dead ahead, exerting no small amount of willpower to maintain even a small level of composure. She was sweating, she knew that, and the pressure was rising back into her head again. The back part of her head starting mumbling prayers to Ragnarok to receive these souls, working away like an itch and unwilling to fall in line with the rest of her unfazed mind. Then she spotted someone, a scavenger? Certainly not a raider, she knew that much. They would have moved on by now, and be travelling in a pack. She called out to find her throat hoarse, but audible. "Hello?" she swallowed and proceeded, "Friend or foe?" though she likely knew which. Neither. She noticed the pressure had disappeared again and she had full feeling, her body snapping to attention in the face of a situation

@Banana@BCTheEntity@Fetzen@Sypherkhode822@Ink Blood

[Assistant]
Ursaren couldn't help but lose his jolly facade as he wandered into the ruined village. There were dead lining the streets, blood strewn everywhere, and children decapitated, their heads in one place while their body was in another, barreled over into a pile of slumping silence. Never had the old man seen this before, and never had he felt so... so off-put by the stench of the deceased.

The eyes of the old man wandered the various streets of the village, stopping when he saw the slow and steady motion of a canine breathing. As Alice had been under the spell of dizziness, Ursaren quickly limped to the canine, and sadly found it lying in a pool of it's own blood, it's organs spilled out into a pile beside it. The sight made the old man lurch with disgust, but he regained a sense of composure as he tried to bring his hands over the dying dog in order to try and keep it from passing to the other side. Alas, the dog was surrounded by a golden glow of light, but it remained the complete same. The damage was irreversible at this point, and the dog was suffering so much. With a heavy sigh, the old man that tried to save it stood up and aimed his weapon at the dog's head, and with one clean stab, the canine died with a loud whimper.

When Ursaren returned to the scouting group, they could easily see that he had just shed a few tears while he put the dog down, and it was even more evident with the trident above him trickling blood down the rest of the points. It was clear that he was not in a good mood, and he desperately wanted to avenge these lost souls by bringing justice down upon whoever was responsible for this. This was also reflected in his reaction to the scavenger that was crouching over a small girl's body. After Alice asked him if the scavenger was a friend or a foe, the old man spoke up in a very grizzly voice to the man, drawing his trident and shield while he did. "I hope you weren't the one who did this!"

[User]
...technically, Sett could pray to a god for subtlety. He nodded to Alice, and as the group of people wandered off toward the village, Sett got down on one knee and began muttering to himself, clasping his hands and praying to Fineki under his breath to grant the scouting group a bit of stealth against those who might wish them harm. Half in jest, because so far as he was aware, Fineki rarely if ever granted favours that were selfless in nature, and making it partially joking could convince him otherwise. Or something. Really, it didn't matter either way. And in fact, even if he was called out now, he could use Alice's asking as an alibi for it, since his current guise was as a priest of the gods, plural. Perfect cover.

Once all was said and done, and he'd stood back up again, the people left behind were Geradin the Dwarf, What's-His-Name the Skayleigh, and this newcomer, the skinny human hermit lady. And his acceptably-embroidered self, of course. With that in mind, he wandered over to the new lady, hoping that any charms Fineki had placed upon him were still present whilst he spoke. And in fact, since Geradin and Skayleigh both seemed to be belligerent, he could convince her he was the firendlier of the group...

'Greetings and hello, my good lady!' he began with a cocked grin, strolling up next to the other two people as he locked gazes with the poor woman. 'My, my, aren't you a sight for sore eyes? If my companions to either side of me are being somewhat needlessly threatening-' He gestured to Geradin and the Skayleigh. '-I apologise for their behaviour in their stead; we've been travelling for a while, and I think everybody is just a little touchy as a result. I'm Settionne, a priest of the gods, and might I ask what your name is?' He held out a hand for her to shake, the thought only occurring to him afterwards that maybe she could use that opportunity to inject some form of deadly poison into his veins, maybe even magic something into his hand directly, but it was too late to withdraw the hand now, that'd just be impolite.

@The Fated Fallen@Banana@Fetzen@Sypherkhode822@Ink Blood

[Assistant]
Gaderon turned from the doll at the sound of a voice, quickly followed by footsteps approaching him. As two figures came into view, he stood, the doll still held in his hand. The woman at the head of the pair was dressed in garb too fanciful for simple villagers but not as fanciful as that of a noble but held herself like one of noble birth, and her companion was of the strangest sort, a lizardman. Gaderon had never seen one in person before, but he had heard tales. When she spoke, Gaderon recognized the accent instantly; she was of Vrettonian birth.

"Friend or foe?"

Gaderon stared at the woman and her strange companion for a moment. He opened his mouth to answer when a gruff voice came from behind the pair before him.

"I hope you weren't the one who did this!"

The old man stood next to the woman, a trident and shield drawn. The trident dripped blood from the tips, yet he was the one accusing Gaderon of wreaking such havoc. The South was proving to be more interesting day by day. The hard look had been receding, but it now returned, bringing his scars back into fiercer focus. He let the doll fall to the cobblestone underfoot and lie with the other bodies around him and then drew his estoc from his belt. He took no fighting stance, yet, but held the tip of the silver-laced blade level with the man yelling accusations through the graveyard they had all stumbled upon.

"I happened upon this catastrophe much like you, old man, but my weapon isn't the one dripping blood upon the ground," Gaderon's accent came out similar to that of other Banians, but his mother's lessons throughout childhood kept him from rolling his r's so much. He kept his piercing blue eyes on the old man, waiting to see how he would respond.


[System]
Rank: Imortale Prelitor Furia

STATS:
Strength:5
Endurance:5
Agility:1
Psionic Powers:5
Charisma:5
Perception:9
Intelligence:5

Skills:
Melee:55+0={55}
Ranged:45+10={55}
Heavy Weapons:50+0={50}
Leadership:50+15={65}
Acrobatics:5+0={5}
Survival:25+25={50}
Technology:50+0={50}
Arcane Knowledge:50+25={75}
Stealth:5+25={30}

Psyonic Powers:
Teleportation: Teleport short distances in an instant, overuse could lead to you fading from existence. Requirements: Arcane(50)

Telepathy: Reading minds, communication over distance. Requirements(none)

Forewarning: Increase reaction time by seeing threats before they happen. You see it mere seconds before. Requirements: Arcane(60)

Heightened Awareness:
Projects a psychic ghost, predicting the next movement of the targeted person. The ghost is visible only to the person using the power. While it is active, Telepathy and ForeWarning are un-usable. Less effective against those trained to resist psychic powers. Arcane(70)

Primary Weapon: Destroyer of Faded Memories: Artemis Acceleration Cannon: This MAW is oriented towards, and only really useful at, long to extreme ranges, with a high resolution scope, and targeting camera, only skilled marksmens may wield this weapon. 4 round magazine. Heavy(25), Ranged(50)

Secondary Weapon: Last Hope of the Shadows: MAW-23 Battle Rifle: 4 round burst, 2.4 second wait between bursts. Variable Zoom scope, infrared. Requirements: Ranged(45)

Melee: Dawnbreaker, Promise of Grieving Widows: Fractal Edge Longsword

Grenades:
3x Plasma
2x Smoke

Special Equipment:
Dusk: Fractal Shield: This shield is made with ancient and arcane technology, using methods all but lost to the great Empire. Forged from the same metal as Fractal Edged weapons, this shield phases into existence as an object impacts it, and, as it phases out, repairs itself, becoming nigh indestructible. Can be used as a weapon, with the edge acting as a fractal edge sword. Arcane(60)

Personality: She is very personable amongst her team, but views outsiders with suspicion, and doesn't talk to those she doesn't know well.
In combat, she is either miles from the engagement, providing pinpoint sniper cover, or in the midst of close.combat, teleporting around the battlefield, destroying enemies, while seeming to dodge all attacks, and providing constant updates to the rest of her squad.

Bio:
Most of her weapons, all save the grenades, were handed down from ages past, weapons wielded by the first member of her family to be born an Imortale Prelitor.

[User] The barely audible 'clunk' within the circumference of an armoured ring wrapped tight into his neck, interwoven with the chestplate he wears, is the only hint one would see of Enoch's head tilting at all. One of the latest arrivals - the dreary eyed Primus - sits on the receiving end of Enoch's bone chilling glare. Yet, this is merely temporary; Rose and Vienna linger in his vision for a fleeting moment, till a more obvious downward casting of his head aligns his view with Lillian.

[Assistant]
Nakinia stroke through the hall not even glancing at the myriad of people around him. He has finally taken his rightful place as an Immortal and no longer would he have to pretend to smile and make nice with the people around him. He could finally revel in what he truly loved. Blood and violence. For years he had trained to master his powers and, although not born a women, his physic powers had become incredibly powerful. Nakinia struck his staff into the ground every step, small sparks flying from the impact point. His sword swayed gently at his hip as he walked. He finally reached the gathering of his 'comrades,' he sneered inwardly as he looked around at them. None of them were his equal save perhaps the leader himself. Towards him Nakinia's expression changed into one of indifference and a slight hint of respect for the ancient warrior.

"Nakinia Orbalan reporting in sir." He places special emphasis on his last name to try and show those around him that he was greater than most of them. 'Still' her thought to himself 'I wonder if any of these other immortals will be worthy of one such as me.'

[User]
What a dickhead, Lillian thinks as Nakinia steps next to her.
Not minding it and instead keeping her gaze forward she answeres Zepheus:
"My Name is Lillian Ketzerin."
Trying to make it seem, as if she wasn't intimidated by Zepheus presence, she stands up straight and clenches her hands into fists in a manner so he shouldn't notice.
The feeling of the others watching her makes her even more uneasy - although those two women are chatting, which really does make her a bit more calm - not knowing the nature of the mans glare that she feels in her back makes her feel vulnerable. And the posture and gaze of that renatian next to her just makes her want to punch something.

[Assistant] Enoch trains his eyes away from Lillian, having discreetly used his Telepathy to catch a glimpse of her thoughts - primarily those pertaining to the attitude owned by the latest of the Prelitor. Nakina receives the same dull, empty glare while Enoch's eyes glaze over him.

[User]
Zepheus grins beneath his helm

"Prepare, Savantus... For the Emperor Approachs..."

he turned to Nakinia

"Welcome, brother. May you bring honor to your House."

[Assistant]
Suddenly six armored men appeared from behind the throne, each holding high power plasma carbines. Their armor seemed more ceremonial than for front line use a symbol of the all seeing eye upon their chests. These were the Imortale Praetorius, the personal guard of the Emperor, never far from his side. Then the air grew denser... As if an unseen tension held the air tight. The space about the throne shuttered and warped with unimaginable forces at work. Then, with a bolt of lightning he appeared...

The Immortal Emperor. He sat lightly down upon the Throne, his head readying to one side as his legs laid sprawled before him. His very presence demanded respect, his power, undeniable, radiated from him like a cool wave of air. Persons with the ability to see Psyonic auras would find it impossible to gaze directly at him, as he would be a shining sun of energy, unlike any other. At his side stood a tall, dark man. His armor was ashen black in color with bright golden trimmings. A large curved blade at his side, an aura if mystery surrounds him.

"Welcome, my warriors... Your presence pleases me."

his voice was quiet, but stretched to all corners of the room, and was heard clearly by all.

 Zepheus moves from his spot near the door, kneeling before the throne

"Zepheus if the House Synia, my life for you, now and forever."

[End of turn one, turn two begin]

[User]
The large, ashen warrior looked about the large temple, optic sensors scanning for potential threats about, the grip on his blade visibly tight, as if he dared for one to step out of line, the blackened silks ever so slightly blowing from the entrance of his lord. he otherwise stood stock still, gold trimmings gleaming in the light, a slightly shadowy aura visible about him, his sensors finally rested upon the one with the silver mask, seeing her own aura about her. He registered the other imortale in his HUD, but paid them no mind, his focus was on the one with this silver mask. There was something about her that intrigued him...although that didn't say much. As of late, many things intrigued him, and why for, he didn't know. Until recently he only knew the emperor's will, doing as he was ordered to do, unaware of the world around him, until recently...everything had come to life, and now he found all these thoughts and emotions in his mind. He didn't know what to do with them, and now...they were making him focus on this one girl, above all else.

He finally got a grip on himself, and loosened his grip on his blade, crossing both arms over his chest and his gaze finally breaking from hers, returning his focus to analyzing for threats.

[Assistant] Rose kneels in place, her own head bowed. Unspeaking, she gives thanks she need not look directly at him, as surely, she would be blinded. She glances at Vienna, sad she was unable to respond before the Great Emperor arrived. She attempts to use telepathy to read Vienna, to determine what she should say next, besides introduce herself.

[User]
Looks at the immortale Emperor with awe, then looks at everyone else in the room to see what they are doing.
Should I kneel? She asks herself... she decides to do it and kneels down to one leg and bows her head low, again, going to await further words.

[Assistant] Nakinia did not even hesitate as the great emperor appeared in front of him, he knelt. Though they were both of the great houses there could not be more of a difference between both their houses and themselves and the power the emperor held demanded obeisance. Nakinia did not dare to look at the emperor the importance of obeying the emperor drilled into his mind during his childhood. The aura that radiated from the emperor only served to increase the awe that Nakinia already felt.

[User]
Vienna held back her surprise with a short gasp when the room filled with immense psychic energy, feeling the shuddering waves warping around the throne before he even signaled his arrival. It was an aura she had never before felt, crippling yet soft and warm. Truly, even though they called her a prodigy, she was like a meager candle held against a raging bonfire. She could only appreciate this fact with a slight nod of her head and a faint smile. To serve, to have purpose meant more to her than anything. When He finally appeared physically, in a flash of brilliant light, she was forced to go 'blind', as to prevent her senses from getting overwhelmed by the sheer power. The young Savantus was almost at a loss, and normally she would be, but Vienna had been prepared for this encounter for a long time now. Doing what she had rehearsed for hours into the mirror the night prior, she immediately dropped onto her knees and bowed, her body laying across the ground in a look of humility.

"Hail, the great protector, the Immortal Emperor. With every ounce of my body and soul can offer, may our people prosper under your reign, my god and king." she called, word for word, what they had taught her to say.

[Assistant]
Senera, whose daydreaming sent him to sleep quickly awoke at a mysterious sound and blinding light. Senera quickly got up and brought up his shield to protect his eyes from the light, and cursed himself for not buying a pair of sunglasses.
The light began to talk. "Welcome, my warriors... Your presence pleases me.", it said.

Senera then took a deep breath and poked his head from behind the shield to gaze directly a the blinding light. It was bright and caused a great deal of damage to his retina, but he easily regenerated it.
It was a magnificent sight. There, a great figure sat on the throne; undoubtedly the emperor. Senera was mesmerized by him. He had heard much about the Emperor, his heroics, kindness, power. Yet, seeing him, and feeling his power in person was a world of a difference. Senera stood there for a while gazing at him.
After a while, Senera was able to tear his eyes off the Emperor and look at the men surrounding him.
His guard stood around him, along with Zepheus and a few others near him. However, most of them were frowning at him. Senera didn't understand. What were they so upset about. He was just standing there and admiring the Emperor.
Then the coin dropped. Standing! A quick look around the hall told Senera told his that he was the only one standing while everyone was kneeling with reverence to the Emperor. What's worse, he was still holding his shield at the Emperor.
Senera quickly wore his shield on his back again, and kneeled, facing the dusty ground.

[User]
Whether my design, or through the restricted movement of his armour, Enoch is both the first to start kneeling and the last to finish kneeling.

Even if - in the same way the Auxilia knew he would one day die and be replaced - this Emperor would eventually pass away and be forgotten through the unrelenting sands of time, as a new Emperor finds his throne. For the time being, he knew respect was demanded and it would be given no matter how difficult it would be. Such thoughts gave way to a metaphor for the mission ahead.

No matter the difficulty, the Emperor's will shall be done.

[Assistant]
The Emperor sat for a moment in silence, then motioned for all to rise.

"I have called you here, my warriors, to bring my wrath down upon those who would threaten our great Empire! The manufacturing world of Arnax has rebeled, their armies are up in arms, assaulting nearby loyalist worlds. I have already dispatched two full battalion of Marines to begin the siege of the traitorous world. You are to take a state of the art ship from my own personal stock... I want you to find the leader of the Rebellion, a powerful Psychic and aristocrat. Gaius Invictus, of the House Tyrius! My own blood, distant through many generation. this betrayal will not go unpunished... Now go, take the Feronia, my personal exploratory ship, my friend here will accompany you he motions to the silent figure by his side and kill the traitors!"

He then suddenly vanished, fading from all detection in a mere instant. The Guards fled back behind the Throne without a word, disappearing from sight. The silent warrior remained, leading you to the docking bay of the great Imperial Spire, there you find a magnificent ship, ready and waiting. The docking bay is vast and cavernous, the great vaulted ceilings adorned lightly with murals of ancient spaceflight. The airlock is open, and the interior almost beckons you.

[User] Rose looks around, and not seeing anyone else willing to step forward, enters the airlock, 'well come on comrades. Let's do this thing. Prove ourselves worthy of the Emperor's trust.' she finds her weapons in a weapons locker located in the airlock, and she equips her shield and sword


[System]
Abigail / 'The Tempest'

Age: 15
Gender: Female
Appearance:

Personality:
Proud and persistent, to most people Robyn comes off as snobby at first glance. Her elite aura and ladylike behavior does not help to change this view. She has an adventurous side to her however, which opposes to this idea. Being raised in one of the greener parts of England, Robyn could often be found trailing off tracks to explore the area. She would always get bruised and stained while venturing out, much to her mother's disapproval who still has the idea her daughter is supposed to represent her family, one which has a long history. Robyn sometimes likes to rebel against her mother's view on the world which in her opinion is archaic, which has made their relation somewhat tense. Robyn now no longer runs off into the woods, but instead has made her escapades into the literary world. The girl loves reading and has developed an above average knowledge about English literature, specializing in what can be seen as the classics: Shakespeare, Mary Shelley, Oscar Wilde...

Gimmick/Theme behind Powers: Storm

Psychological weakness:
It seems the gained ability has come at a price; the once balanced girl is now emotionally unstable. Robyn has developed anger issues and sometimes has panic attacks. The problems seem to have gotten worse after her father's death. She is starting to fear that at one time she may lose control and, in her words, end up like King Lear.

Powers:
Inheriting her powers from a storm sprite, Robyn is able to manipulate and create both lightning and wind. However, since the storm sprite has passed the powers in the form of a lightning strike, Robyn masters lightning better than wind by a considerable amount. Robyn mostly operates at long range as her powers require charging up. Her powers are greatly influenced by her emotions and vice versa: the longer Robyn uses her powers the more emotionally unstable she gets, mostly resulting in her getting enraged but occasionally in a panic attack.

Lightning Strike – Robyn can cause discharges of electricity, which have effects ranging from devastating to very useful or even lifesaving. Average to larger discharges are easier for Robyn to create as these require little precision and focus. She may use these to harm her enemies or use them on electrical devices or other objects to destroy them. If she concentrates well and charges up long enough, she is able to produce huge bolts of lightning which she may use on large metal constructions to form a barrier. However discharges with this amount of power are very hard to control so Robyn hasn't fully mastered this yet. Although pointless at first glance, tiny discharges can actually be very helpful: they can be used on electrical objects to activate them (getting through an electrically secured door, starting a car) and even on people to revive them (think defibrillator). Needless to say, these actions are very risky and require utmost precision and patience. Because of this last aspect they aren't exactly an expertise Robyn; she has very little patience for most things.

Static Electricity – More of a side effect of using her powers than an actual ability. When Robyn charges up the clouds in the area she creates a tension in the air which gives anyone a sense of calamity. People become restless and unfocused.

Whips of Wind and Lightning – Robyn can use her ribbons to lash out at people, empowering them with either electricity and/or giving them a boost or lift using her control over wind. She may also use the ribbons to trip or capture people. Once captured she may then send electricity down the ribbons to shock her opponent.

History:
Robyn was born into one of the wealthier families in England. Her mother originates from a once influential family with a long history and her father was a successful business man. Although the house was spacious to say the least, it was never quiet or empty. There was always someone roaming the chambers and halls of the estate, so Robyn never felt alone. She had her two older brothers to play with and often had children from her school or neighborhood come over. She was a bright, playful child but got somewhat restricted in expressing these characteristics as she was raised to be a representable young lady.

One summer day, Robyn had decided to go on a little camping trip with her friends not too far from home; the estate was adjacent to a large patch of woodland which seemed like the perfect location. However, as the hours went by, dark clouds settled in and before long rumbling could be heard in the distance. The children were in the middle of a game of hide-and-seek when thick drops of rain started to fall from the sky. Robyn was surrounded by pines, stretching out into the sky. She looked around for any trace of the other children while she tried to find her way back to the estate as quickly as possible, but knowing Robyn, she had trailed off way too far from the camping site. With every step she could hear the thunder drawing in and felt the wind increase in speed, tugging at her dress. Filled with fear the little girl ran through the forest, searching for a stretch of plane where the lightning had little chance of striking. Seeing no other options she stopped abruptly, kneeling down and making herself as small as possible. Flashes filled the sky, the air resonating around her like dark voices as she felt her heart beating wildly in her chest. One more burst. That was when she felt an agonizing sting in her chest. The lightning had struck her. Was she going to die? These thoughts flashed by her in what Robyn thought would be her last moments. But they weren't. The girl survived and she soon understood what had caused this miracle. Initiator of the storm, a sprite had decided to spare the girl and instead give her a part of its power as it deemed her body strong enough to house the energy. Still in shock, it took Robyn a few minutes to regain herself and stand up and walk again, to finally arrive at her house, where she was welcomed by her friends who had luckily all returned safe and sound.

Robyn was eight when this happened. In the mean while things have changed for her. She has since learned of demons and practiced her abilities, albeit more out of boredom than out of need. More importantly though, her situation at home has also altered... Around the age of eleven doctors found out her father was terminally ill after he had collapsed at work. He would not live to see his daughter grow up; they give him two years, but even this estimate turned out to be longer than her father lasted. He passed away nine months into therapy. Her father's death left the family broken and it was obvious that things would never be the same again. Robyn's mother gained full custody over the children and inherited her husband's company. Having her hands full with three adolescents as well as a blooming business, she became more stressed and easier to snap out to people, including her daughter. Robyn in turn lost some of her softness and cheerfulness, replacing it by what can be seen as brashness. It was during these days that the girl sought refuge in her father's study. At first she came there just to be reminded of her father and the moments they had shared, later she became interested in the large collection of books that he had left behind. This was where her interest in literature was sparked.

At present, Robyn is now fifteen years old and attends high school. She scores around average grades in most subjects, but excels in English and History. She doesn't have many friends; most of her former friends have left her, some because they have simply moved elsewhere or go to a different school, others for her change in attitude. New friends come scarce as most find her hard to approach. The few friends she has though she cherishes and Robyn is very loyal to them.

Lately something has been stirring inside her, a feeling which cannot be fulfilled. A sensation which she can only describe as wanderlust, a desire for adventure; not just into the imaginary or dream world, but into the wild parts of the human world, the depths of the earth.

[User]
"Just call me Terra Breaker. But I didn't come here to chat with some cherry girls."

That was her only reply to the other girls, as she set off immediately towards one of the ever multiplying birds. If this bird was multiplying, there had to be an end somewhere. If the bird regenerates immediately into other birds, then all they had to do was completely destroy the body, leaving behind no trace. With just one swing of her arm, a bird exploded to pieces as she punched it. Hayami was feeling a bit better from her last fight, but her clothes were still tattered, and her vision was still slightly blurry. Fighting low leveled demons such as these wouldn't exactly be a challenge though, not even to a newly made magical girl.

"Oi, start killing faster. I don't want to babysit you people longer than I have to."

Just as she pulverized one more bird however, one shot out at her, though it seemed more thrown than any sort of attempt to attack on the bird's part.

Thrown...

Obviously someone who had reason to attack a magical girl. Who was also a demon. Obviously.

Crushing that bird effortlessly, she landed near where she thought the bird was thrown, a seemingly empty roof devoid of people. It could be a demon masquerading as a roof however. She wouldn't put it past them, especially with her experience with demonic pastries and utensils in the past. Certainly almost harmless, but frustratingly annoying to exterminate.

"Come on out." Hayami looked around nonchalantly, hand in one of her pockets. "Or I'll hunt you down like the animal you are."

[Assistant]
Tali began walking, into the suburbs from the treeline. Thankfully nobody was around to see a girl with a walking stick and a sleeping pack rolled up on her back. She studied the time period and adjusted her clothes accordingly, taking her belongings and moving them into a red backpack before donning a navy-coloured school uniform. It was strange to be back in human time again, she could nearly feel it slink past as she entered it. She wondered if her family was still around now, she wondered how old her baby brother was. She knew she was somewhere outside of London - maybe they had moved here? Did they need her? Maybe her intuition led her back to them to save them somehow. She could only wonder.

Her bare feet touched burning sidewalk and she jumped back, hissing at it. She donned shoes, even if this hindered her senses through the earth. She walked funny in them at first, but soon remembered the feeling of them. She made her way to the city nonetheless, keeping her mind empty. Thoughts would only crowd out her intuition and she would likely lose her way if she paid any mind to them.

Suddenly she felt her stomach drop. Her body felt heavy and gravity seemed to change. She turned and began sprinting in the other direction to escape this danger, dropping to all fours. She panted as she tried to outrun the sinking feeling, but once it touched the tip of her toe, she was sucked in.

Tali came out from the other side of the portal in full feral mode. She was crouched on the ground and growling lowly. Her senses readjusted to find an overwhelming amount of beings around her. Thousands of bodies moved around rapidly as if she were shrunk into an ant hill. She looked around at those immediately near her. It was a group of children near her biological age. They stood around and chatted happily, or at least comfortably.

English. She hadn't spoken this language or any at all in a long time. She raised up, not lowering her guard one bit. She managed to speak, 'Who you?' she demanded as she glared with a golden eye.

[User]
Robyn Bennett
The school bell rang, the sound echoing through the hallways which soon would be brimming with students. Slowly the classes emptied themselves and voices started to fill up the corridors which had been silent until thus far. Robyn found herself amidst the buzzing, surrounded by a group of classmates. She didn't particularly stand out; she was just another person amongst the crowd of adolescents. Although, if you would pay close attention, you would think her posture had more confidence to it, her gaze to be more determined in comparison to those around her. With nimble footsteps she walked towards the main hall, her dark hair bouncing lightly as she went. While most of her classmates were on their way to the cafeteria, Robyn preferred to eat her lunch outside.

As she treaded down the doorsteps, she looked up at the sky; in contrast to the image most people had of the weather in the UK, today the sky was crystal clear aside from maybe one or two contrails. She started to make her way down the path which lead to one of the benches where she usually sat down to have her meal, but slowed down when she noticed an odd glistening. Tilting her head, she tried to peer through the leaves of a big tree next to the school building. As she drew closer she figured the glimmering did not originate from within the tree, but instead was located somewhere behind it and… somewhere above it..? A strange sensation awoke within her when she turned around the trunk and saw the source. A portal..! Although over the past few years Robyn had gotten more or less used to the idea that she could see things that could be considered supernatural – hell, she had even needed to fight against some of those things with the powers that had been granted to her – every time she encountered something new her heart jumped a little. Without giving much more thought to it, she hid behind one of the corners of the academy and transformed into her magical attire. A blue flash leaped up into the tree and with another jump, Robyn disappeared into the portal.

Spinning around in the whirlwind she had created to lift herself up, it her took a moment to regain focus and behold the city of London as it became visible underneath her. Despite, or maybe because the vibrant streets were littered with people, no one seemed to have noticed the arrival of the girl. Robyn felt the wind underneath her lose momentum and knew soon she was going to descend. As she started to fall back to earth a group of individuals caught her eye. Seems I'm late to the party, she remarked inwardly when she realized they were magical children, just like her. Creating one more burst of wind midair she dashed in their direction.

Agile, she landed swiftly, and joined the group. "Why hello," she announced herself as she bowed slightly, placing one foot behind the other. "Most refer to me as The Tempest, but I'd prefer if you'd call me something more personal such as Abigail," she said, a faint smile present on her lips. "Don't worry, that's not my real name," she added; although in this situation it did not seem directly necessary to her, Robyn was aware of the convention to keep their real identity a secret.

She glanced around the circle, finding herself a little lost as she had never seen so many magical children together. Her gaze rested on one of the younger girls, her bright eyes looking up at her when she mentioned that she had brought cookies which she'd happily share with all of them. She was taken aback a little by the offer, but her growling stomach reminded her of her earlier plans, so she gladly accepted one. "Thank you!" she said gratefully before biting down.


[System]
Gender: Male
Species: Demon (Leviathan)
Job: Lord of Gluttony
Appearance: his typical human form has messy White hair, ice blue eyes, dark caramel skin with runic markings and scars from old battles. Typically wears a fine black suit with a blue undershirt typically undone at the collar.

[User] Asran nodded somewhat trying to convey Markus got some of it right. Then he looked to Ayrie seeing her eyes widen just for a second. That split second that only he saw. 'So she knows... great. Who's puppy did I kick to deserve a priestess with light magic. Figuring out my human form is the fucking lord of Gluttony? Fuck all kinds of duck. Maybe a memory wipe? No, if I tried that it'd hurt like a bitch. Probably do permanent damage too with how tired I am.' He sighed internally then motioned that she could go. With her gone he grabbed a bottle of wine, and started drinking. Nadia gave Asran a brief look, with her magic eyes she could see Asran's aura was deeply troubled. Then turned seeing Ayrie's aura had a deep fear. Putting two, and two together made her chuckle slightly.

[Assistant]
Ayrie managed to find a washroom on the bottom floor of the building, and took advantage of a sink and mirror to wash her face. She was beginning to feel the effects of the training she had done with Markus, but she was still wired with energy despite the weariness of her muscles. She wiped her face and smoothed her dress, still smelling the lily soap she had used earlier despite it having been several hours now.

She fixed a few wisps of hair that had come loose from her braid, and retied the ribbon. Happy again with her appearance, and now composed after so many shocks in one night, she started to head back to the table to finish her food. She noticed a group of children dancing with each other and stopped for a moment to watch them.

'Everyone here is so happy, it can't be all that bad to have a leader who eats criminals...' she thought to herself.

[User]
Asran yawned as he finished off his bottle of wine, and set it aside. He began thinking of a way to get out of here, and shift forms. Illusion magic? Yeah that would work. "Markus since you decided to bring Ayrie to my table. You're gonna cast a little illusion spell. Show me in this form while I go head back inside, and shift forms." Markus looked hesitant, but with the look Asran gave him he nodded quickly. Then cast his magic while Asran slipped away.

He went inside the temple shifting to his human form. He also took the time to use the washroom. To clean his face off of dried blood. Then put on comfortable clothing a simple blue silk shirt, and jeans. He made his way outside, and sat beside his illusionary self. Maybe, just maybe it'd confuse Ayrie enough that she'd reconsider that he was the lord of Gluttony.

[Assistant]
Ayrie walked back to the table and took her seat, barely noticing at first that the mayor had arrived at the table.

'Wait... Didn't I just decide that the mayor is Gluttony?' she thought to herself, looking at the mayor and at the form of Gluttony. The mayor looked like a human designed to match the lord. She looked at Markus, who seemed preoccupied but was eating as if everything was normal.

"Mayor." she said sweetly, "It's good to finally see you. I hope everything went the way you planned." Something was amiss, but she couldn't pinpoint it. All she knew for certain was that this man was somehow tied to Lord Gluttony. 'It could be an illusion, a trick to get me off his scent if he thought I figured it out.'

Ayrie was naieve, but she wasn't ignorant and knew about illusions from her Church's teachings. They had said that illusions were the work of evil people, and that those who were good would not lie in that way. She knew of course that an illusion was not always meant to harm or to lie, sometimes it was meant to protect. She didn't know how to find out the truth other than trying to reach out and touch Gluttony, and she was not about to do that as it would reveal her suspicions.

[User] "It's good to see you Ayrie. How have you been enjoying the festival thus far? Sorry I couldn't join earlier. There was a scheduling fiasco I had to go deal with," Asran said. He knew he was lying through his teeth. But, let's face it if he didn't she would know exactly who he was. He still didn't fully trust her after all it would be a simple manner for her to do him harm. Especially with how weak he was.

[Assistant]
Ayrie smiled at him, "It has been interesting, to say the least, but I'm sorry to hear of your troubles. Large events have a way of attracting fiascos. I hope it wasn't too troublesome."

She snagged another piece of bread from the plate in front of her and tore off a bite. She looked again at Markus who seemed to now be deep in thought, and then back at the lord Gluttony, a mischievous idea forming in her mind. She wouldn't oust him, but she could make him work for it if he was lying.

"Thank you again, my Lord, for the water handle. It will make life so much easier." She said, smiling brightly. "I see now why you have so many who adore and protect you. You give so easily and generously."

From the corner of her eye she could see Markus's brow furrow slightly. If it was an illusion, it took concentration to make it move naturally, and she had just challenged whoever might be casting it to make it acknowledge her praise.

[User] Asran stared at Ayrie, was she being cheeky? "My lord tends to focus on eating when he's hungry. Even despite the sacrifices the answered prayers take a bit out of him. I'm sure he's very happy to have helped you though," he said smiling. "Though him helping you for free is quite something. He must see something in you. What he sees I haven't the foggiest. After all you can be quite annoying." He then shrugged with hands up. If she was being cheeky he was going to be cheeky right back.

[Assistant]
Ayrie had to hold back a laugh at what the mayor said to her, as it only made sense if he was in fact trying to hide behind an illusion.

"Well, I am in his debt then. I'll have to meet with you later to discuss what jobs there are for me around here to repay it." She said, her green eyes glinting as she looked at the mayor with a smile.

She took another bite of her bread and glanced over at Nadia who seemed to also be stifling laughter, though at what Ayrie couldn't guess.

[User] Asran stared at Ayrie a little blank faced. Then stoooed smirking in amusement. 'You cheeky little minx.' He leaned back as he stared at Ayrie. "Well, I would but I can't always make time to hold your hand. Now can I? I mean I am the mayor after all. But, I guess if it's for my lord I could squeeze you into my busy schedule." For the first time in a long while he felt lighter than usual, happier.

[Assistant]
"Oh of course, I'll meet with you at your leisure, or with one of your subordinates perhaps, Mister Mayor." She said, again with a smile. She was enjoying this, perhaps more than she should have considering the circumstances and what she had just seen less than an hour ago.

'Hold my hand indeed. I didn't ask for him to come pounding on my door last night.'

[User] Asran couldn't help the chuckle that came out of him. He cleared his throat trying to stop the giggles. Maybe he drank too much? He did chug an entire bottle of wine on his own after all. Then again it takes a hell of a lot more than that to get him even buzzed. "Yeah, come by my office tomorrow after lunch. I'll talk to you then about a job you can do."

[Assistant]
"I'll be there." She said.

She wasn't sure if it was the wine or the mental stimulation, but Ayrie suddenly had the urge to do something.

"Will there be more to this festival than sitting and watching the dancers? I have a sudden urge to join them." She said, watching their graceful forms twirling for their audience.

[User]
Asran motioned a hand to all the surrounding people dancing around the performers. Doing their best to mimic the dances the performers did to the beat of their musical counterpart.
"Go ahead, and dance. If you feel the urge to dance then do so. For Gluttony is fulfilling what you desire most. No matter the consequences."

[Assistant]
Ayrie smiled and stood, making her way to a small group of dancers who were teaching each other the steps and laughing. She joined them, watching what they did intently occasionally looking back to the mayor with a smile.

'This is a lot of fun. We would never have done this at the monastery.' She thought, moving her body to the beat as she began to master the steps.

The church was against such displays in worship, and as a result the monastery had never seen dancers in her twenty two years there. The elders would have absolutely had a coniption fit if they saw what Ayrie was doing, especially if they had seen the look on her face as she glanced now and then at the mayor.

[User]
Asran smiled back at Ayrie as he watched her dance. Nadia leaned in nudging him the side getting his attention. She was leaned low looking up at him with a deeply mischievous expression. "You totally a crush on her," she said softly. Making Asran go rigid as his cheeks blushed. "What the hell are you talking about," he asked almost stammering. As he stared down at her with trying to hide his embarrassment. Nadia snickered as was enjoying seeing her lord at such a loss. His embarrassment faded, and he looked at her with an even stare. "Don't try to deny you've some sort of affection towards her. I see the way you to react to one another. It's truly adorable, but don't worry. The others are a bit too dense to tell. I won't tell them either, that is if you give my school magical uniforms. Like Sigres' school has, and it has to come straight from you. Not some other tailor. I wanna hold it over his smug head."
Asran looked very displeased, "Here I thought I was the demon. You sure you're not part devil?" Which made Nadia smile, and giggle at her lord. "Oh, but you love it." Asran smiled chuckling low under his breath. Then turned back to watching Ayrie. "I suppose you may be right. On some things," he said.

[Assistant]
Ayrie spun one last time as the music came to an end and walked back to the table laughing.

"That is so much fun!" She said, reaching down and taking a drink of her wine. She looked over at the mayor as another song began. "You should come with me the next time. Loosen up a little."

Ayrie giggled and set her glass back down, not quite ready to sit yet. Her feet were tapping to the beat of the music. She shook her braid from her shoulder and looked around at all the happy people, feeling like a child loosed on a brand new world.

[User]
Asran shrugged, and stood up loosening his shirt collar a bit. "I suppose I could show you how it's done," he said with a smirk. Every high priest looked at their lord in shock. Making Asran just stare at them all with an exasperated expression. It surely couldn't be that much of a surprise!

He walked around the table, and headed down the steps to the dancing people. Standing there for a moment he observed the dance, and music. Then in a fluid motion joined in the dance acing every step. But, his face remained stony. Making him almost look like a little clockwork figure dancing about.

[Assistant]
Ayrie laughed with surprise when he stepped onto the dance floor and started dancing as if he'd been doing it forever. His face was smooth as he danced, never changing expression, but she smiled anyway. She had certainly not expected him to just get up and go dance!

"That's not something he would normally do." Markus said, his voice monotone but loud enough she could hear.

"Well, I didn't think he would, that's for sure. He is very generous but he is wound tighter than anyone I've ever met." She answered, patting him on the shoulder. If he was controlling an illusion of the Lord Gluttony, he would have a massive headache in the morning. "Though, are you certain that my sheilds will keep me from shocking every dark magic thing I touch now? I wouldn't want to bump him in the next dance and send sista flying everywhere."

"They'll hold as long as you maintain them. You need not worry about that anymore." Though Markus wasn't sure he wanted her touching his Lord in any way.

Ayrie watched to the end of the dance and clapped loudly when it was over, smiling delightedly.

[User]
Asran sighed out he was more tired than he initially thought. He yawned tiredly then felt fangs in his mouth. He clasped a hand over his mouth, and blew past people including his own priests as he fled inside the temple. His hair growing longer going from a typically short head of hair to something that was shoulder length by the time he entered the temple. It was getting longer too his eyes even started glowing. "Shit, shit, SHIT," he muttered quickly. He grimaced in pain holding his shoulder his shirt darkening underneath.

"Looks like he pushed himself too hard tonight... stupid demon," Nadia said low under her breath. Then drank some wine from her glass, gulping some of it down. The illusion of Asran's demon form faltered a second as Markus looked insanely worried. As did every priest there, but none of them moved. They couldn't, or more they were ordered not to go after him.


[System]
BASIC
Goes By: Maleficent (alter-ego); Delva (by godsons)
Age: 5,739
Gender: Female
Race: Half-Sindarin, Half-Silvan Elf

APPEARANCE

Portrayed By: Angelina Jolie
Hair Color: Dark, Ashy-Brown
Eye Color: Luminous Yellow-Green
Skin Tone: Creamy-Pale
Height: 5' 7"
Weight: 119 lbs
Body Build: Slim

(Two Of These)

Wing-Cloak

Battle Outfit

PERSONALITY

Overall Personality
Likes: Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Happiness, Animals, Flying, Her Godsons
Dislikes: Chaos, Greed, Spiders, Her Inner Darkness, Orcs, Sorrow
Strengths: Fighting, Beauty, Inspiration, Knowledge
Weaknesses: Mentions of Her Past, Loneliness, Anger
Fears: Losing Her Family, Her Past, Sauron

Elegant | Unpredictablly-Capable | Headstrong | Mysterious | Influential

Everyone believed that Saeril was born as a creature of chaos and pure evil, but they just do not know the true story. Rather than a woman who is evil, Saeril was instead a benevolent young woman of purity; she valued the peaceful nature on Middle-Earth, and she had a fierce passion to support various realms and their inhabitants. A greatly-unpredictable individual, Saeril is a desired perfectionist, and a woman of her word; for even the most vulnerable of races, she focuses on finding the best intentions for them, even if it means to risk her life.

From the despair of her devastating past, following the Deceiver's corruption upon her mind, Saeril is truly hurt and very lonely inside, interpreted by the guilt of her cruel and malicious actions. Since then, she feared her other persona "Maleficent", a psychopathic representation of Sauron's control over her, who wished to wreck havoc from time to time. The ultimate goal was to redeem, and dissipate this inner darkness from within.

However, she never anticipated this goal to be a challenge when she rekindled herself with her Dwarven godsons, Fili and Kili, whom she'd grown to care for as her own children. Despite herself being closest to the youngest, Kili, Saeril was absolutely devastated after witnessing Azog kill his older brother. Determined to keep the youngest from falling into the same fate, she became frank and strictly protective of Kili, going so far to keep him alive, and stay by his side throughout his many ventures, though she may not always agree with them. Her connection with her youngest godson became so strong, others knew better not to cross her if there's damage inflicted upon him.

Saeril will not hesitate on giving others her blunt opinion, and she would often guide them when they are upset, or in need of advice. Proud and proper she is, she will never bow to anyone she disagreed with. Evident by her relationship with Thorin Oakenshield, it's complicated when it comes to terms of trust; she betrayed him (as he claimed) by revealing the truth of the quest, and by "stealing" the starlight jewels from his treasure hoard for King Thranduil. Although she was claimed as not "trusting", Saeril openly showed that she cared a great deal for him, saving his life multiple times on different occasions.

BACKGROUND

Date of Birth: YT 1578
Place of Birth: Fangorn Forest, located north of Rohan
Social Ranking: Royalty (formerly)
Family:
- Kili Durin (Godson; alive) (Dwarf)
- Fili Durin (Godson; alive) (Dwarf)
- Dis Durin (Comadre; alive) (Dwarf)
- Vili Durin (Compadre; deceased) (Dwarf)
- Hermia (Mother; deceased) (Sindarin Elf)
- Lysander (Father; deceased) (Silvan Elf)
- Ulla (Aunt; deceased) (Sindarin Elf)
- Kinloch (Uncle; deceased) (Sindarin Elf)

Other Relations:
- Gandalf the Grey (Mentor; alive) (Maiar)
- Thorin II Oakenshield (Friend; alive) (Dwarf)
- Aragorn II Elessar (Friend; alive) (Man)
- Azog the Defiler (Enemy; alive) (Orc)
- Bolg (Enemy; alive) (Orc)

[User]
Wickedly close the orcs were, Saeril used the speed of flight and aimed for the hole her companions just jumped into. Swooping down at great speed and aiming for the incoming warg, the she-elf collided with the beast, and rolled with it into the hole. Her wings cocooned around her, she rolled down the rock; the body of the wild creature falling dead with her. Looking down at it, her luminous eyes were glowing with rage, and she bared her teeth at it. Panting to calm herself down, Saeril retracted her weapon.

Shaking her head at the energy, the she-elf's wings retracted back into her cloak. "...I'm sorry. That was intense; it's been a while since I flew that fast", Saeril apologized to the stares of the others. She had to keep herself under control before the concealed power decides to unleash itself.

[Assistant]
While most everyone stared in mute, shocked silence, Kili broke into a wide grin. "Saeril! There you are -- are you alright?" The youngest moved past the dead warg in order to reach her, but he stopped in his tracks when she bared her teeth at the creature. He'd never seen Saeril this angry, and it was a little alarming.
Thorin viewed the she-elf with skepticism, though he kept his comments to himself. "Kili, retrieve your arrows," he commanded, as his youngest nephew had spilled some when he'd fallen into the cavern. Right now, he didn't want Kili near her. There was an unsettling feeling in his chest. "Fili, help your brother."

Bilbo fell back in surprise when the warg toppled in with Saeril. The hobbit gripped his Elven sword in order to help take down the beast if need be, but there was no need. The warg was dead. "T-that was a bit too close," he stammered, then mumbled his thanks when Bofur offered him a hand up.
Dwalin paced some, then followed their only available route. "I cannot see where the pathway leads. Do we follow it or no?"
Bofur hastily moved away from the corpses of their attackers. "Follow it, of course!"

[User]
Fili nodded quickly, and kept a slight distance from Saeril. Not that he was afraid or despised her, but felt slightly intimidated and uncomfortable at the way she fought, and acted a few seconds ago. The she-elf looked at Kili and his brother in guilt, hoping that she didn't cause too much of a disturbance within them after seeing this side of her. She got a little too carried away, and her battle anger only have them a glimpse at her other self.

"I think that would be wise", Gandalf nodded in confirmation since it was the only way to go that was safe at the moment. Following the path in the tunnel, there was a waterfall with a small city in the distance; Saeril trailed behind with the brothers, but kept her distance, her cloak following her. "The Valley of Imladris. In the common tongue, it's known by another name", Gandalf recited. "Rivendell", the she-elf butted in, as she gaped in astonishment at the great city before them. "Here lies the last homely house, east of the sea"

[Assistant]
Kili didn't say anything as he went to retrieve his arrows from the cavern's floor. The youngest looked to Fili with some concern, though he knew better than to voice his thoughts. Something didn't feel right. Without a word, he added the arrows to his half-empty quiver, then moved to rejoin the others. Like Fili, he kept his distance, though he wished he did not have to.

The path lead to a new clearing, one that overlooked a giant waterfall. The air smelled perfectly sweet, almost as if it had just rained, though there was not a cloud in the sky. A few small birds flew by, and Bilbo looked the city over in awe. Rivendell. He had only read of such a place.
"This is beautiful," Kili breathed, then stepped forward to obtain a better view. Was this Saeril's home? He wanted to ask, but he wasn't certain if now was a good time. Their godmother seemed upset.

Thorin was not impressed by the sight, he was angered. "This was your plan all along, to seek refuge with our enemy." The king shot Gandalf an accusatory glare. "You think the Elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us."

[User]
"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield", Gandalf scolded the dwarf sharply. "The only ill will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself! We have a map that we cannot read, Lord Elrond can help us to read it! Now, if this is to be successful, you shall leave the talking to me or Saeril, as we will need to be tactful with a small degree of charm, which it seems you dwarves certainly lack in the presence of the Fair Folk", Saeril couldn't agree less of the arguement to her mentor's point.

She did, in fact, make side glances at her godsons, still hoping they weren't being distant with her. The she-elf regretted to ever show such an expression that would twist their view of her. "I will assist you, Gandalf", she spoke up. As they entered the beautiful Elven city of Rivendell, they are met by some elves. "Mithrandir", Elrond's right hand man, Lindir, greeted to the wizard. "Ah, Lindir", the wizard returned the gesture. "We heard you had crossed into the Valley", Lindir spoke in Elvish. "I must speak with Lord Elrond" "My Lord Elrond is not here" "Not here? Where is he?", that was until the hunting horn was heard with the returning elf war party coming towards them.

[Assistant]
"*Ifridî bekâr!" Thorin barked the order, his weapon at the ready. This was Gandalf's doing -- they would be attacked for trespassing onto the Elven grounds, he was certain of it. "Hold ranks!"
The company and Bilbo gathered in a circle of sorts, each with a weapon gripped tightly. Kili had a hand on his bow, though he did not draw an arrow. Surely the elves would not harm them with Gandalf and Saeril there, would they? Troubled, he looked towards their godmother in hopes of getting a feeling for what was going on. As it was, he did not know. Thorin thought so poorly of the elves, and Kili worried that the elves may feel the same way towards them.

A group of riders arrived on the scene, and the tallest there dismounted and separated from the others. Elrond nodded in acknowledgement to Gandalf, seemingly unperturbed by the dwarves being there. "Gandalf," he greeted him, then moved to greet his friend with a hug. "**Farannem 'lamhoth i udul o charad. Dagannem rim na Iant Vedui."

---

translations:

* Ready weapons

** We've been hunting a pack of Orcs that came up from the South. We slew a number near the Hidden Pass.

[User] "Ah, that may have been us", Gandalf confirmed Elrond's case. The lord's right-hand man had his gaze turned to the cloaked and horned woman. "Saeril", he spoke in astonishment to his leader. Saeril kept her ground, but slightly bowed her head in respect. "Lord Elrond, call me Saeril", she said to him in the Elvish language in a kind tone. "It is a long story, my friend", Gandalf spoke up to Elrond, quickly coming to she-elf defense. "One which we may not have the time for now. At least not at this very moment. We really would require your assistance".

[Assistant]
Elrond looked to Saeril, though he was careful not to stare. The same could not be said for Lindir. "I look forward to hearing it, Gandalf." While some of the other riders did not seem quite at ease, Elrond was calm and collected. If Saeril had come with Gandalf, he knew there was a reason for this. As such, there was a reason for Thorin being there.
"Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain." Despite the fact that all the dwarves had their weapons drawn and whispering among themselves, Elrond spoke as if they were already allies.

"I do not believe we have met." Thorin was curt in his response, and he did not hide his contempt.
Elrond was unphased. "You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew Thror when he ruled under the Mountain." At that, he looked towards Saeril briefly, then back to the much shorter dwarf before him.
"Indeed; he made no mention of you." Thorin was rude in his response, but he did not care. For what Thranduil had done, he blamed many, and their betrayal was something he had never overcome.
Elrond ignored this, then turned to Lindir and the others. "*Nartho i noer, toltho i viruvor. Boe i annam vann a nethail vin."

Gloin bristled with anger. "What is he saying?" Gilmi's father held his axe at the ready. "Does he offer us insult?" The others uttered their varying opinions, and Bilbo felt smaller than he had in a while. Kili wasn't sure what to think, and for once he held his tongue.

---

*Light the fires, bring forth the wine. We must feed our guests.

[User]
"No, Master Gloin, he's offering you food", Gandalf reassured him. That was until the dwarves turn and discuss amongst themselves. "In that case, lead on". However, later that day, the dwarves sitting around the elves' dining table were complaining that the food wasn't of their taste, and that they would prefer meat rather than "leaves".

"Kind of you to invite us. I'm not really dressed for dinner", Gandalf spoke as he walked with Elrond to the table. Changing into something lighter and more Elvish-like, Saeril had on an elbow-length, off-the-shoulder, brown dress that fell to her ankles as she made herself appear at the walkway of the dining area where everyone else was at. Although, she didn't sit with them, but peeked out on the balcony nearby. Her cloak was gone, so her wings stayed tucked upon her back. She preferred to walk barefoot, and let the sun warm them, and let her long ashy-brown hair flow free, while she seemed to be so troubled on the day's previous events. It was a lot on her mind.