[System]
Gender: Female
Class: Princess (Lord)
Age/Birthdate: 21
Level : 3

Katherine has bright green eyes, light brown hair, and a pale complexion. She wears a rather plain white cleric dress that reaches to her ankles, and brown boots.
As a child, Katherine lived a pretty plain life living with on a farm in the countryside. Pretty often she would play together with her neighbor, sword fighting with sticks, or some other childlike game. Although, on occasion it would be chess. More often than not, he beat her in most everything. He was a bit more active and strategic than she, while Kathy was more sweet and carefree.

She was happy, until the day came that her neighbor decided to become a militiaman. Kathy never quite understood why. She knew he liked sword fighting and wanted to protect as many people as he could, but she didn't want him to get hurt either….but it was his decision, and off he went. She was never able to see him very often.

This made her rather unhappy and bored, and decided to become a cleric. She enjoyed helping people, and soldiers often had need of healing, right? What better way could she help him? They were getting too old to play child's games, but at least she could see him every now and then. And she did enjoy being a cleric. It was nice helping people and relieving their pain and illness. It suited her better than fighting.

That is, of course, until the sigil showed up on her upper right thigh. She knew what it meant. And it meant a whole new life for her…
HP: 18 – 60%
Str: 2 – 20%
Magic: 10 – 50%
Skll: 6 – 40%
Speed: 9 – 50%
Luck: 7 – 30%
Def: 5 – 35%
Res: 7 – 35%
Light: D
Staff: D
Light Magic: Lightning (D), Divine (C), Seraphim (B), (Ultimate Spell to be named) (A)
Staff Magic: Mend (D), Restore (C), Physick (B), Fortify (A)
1-->2 HP Mag Spd Res
2-->3 Mag Spd Def Res

[User]
Katherine smiled, "Well, I wasn't implying it to that extent. But I would generally prefer to avoid a fight if I can, much less kill. Anyway, there's more to this than just being good with a sword, Felix. And to be honest, I don't think you would do that. Or at the very least you wouldn't stay gone."

She nodded to Emmerich, and gave him a big grin before grabbing Felix's arm excitedly, "I choose Felix!"

[Assistant]
Felix shrugged, not sure what to say in response to his friend's kind words. Still, he'd resigned himself to getting ready to being an acting officer when Katherine made her sudden, if somewhat predictable, proclamation. Felix reddened somewhat, and Emmerich seemed less than amused.

"Lady Katherine, I know you trust in Felix, as do I, but..." Emmerich shook his head. "I implore you to reconsider. Even though he's now a captain, he's still green. I cannot, in good conscience, set you off alone with him. Besides, I need to get him acquainted to his new responsibilities."

Felix wasn't sure what to say. Emmerich's words rang as true. Even with his skill with the blade, Felix was still inexperienced. He was far from talented enough to be a bodyguard.

[User]
Katherine shrugged and smiled a little, "Well, what if I said I don't trust any of your other captains? And who better to protect me than my best friend if not you? You know there is no one else that would fight as hard as he would to protect me. It's only to that lord's mansion or whatever anyway, right? He can get acquainted when he gets back."

She pouted at him, "Come on, Commander. This could be the last chance we get to see each other for awhile. We'll talk on the way and maybe I can get him actually excited about his duties as opposed to treating them as stuff he has to do now. Give him some time to think all this over, and decide what he wants to do with it." Katherine sighed, "Give him...the option I wasn't given. Besides, would it really be so bad to do without him for a few days?" she asked, giving him puppy eyes.

[Assistant]
Emmerich seemed as if he was ready to push things further, but it didn't really seem worth it. He remembered, for a moment, his days with Alphin. The young man had always been so headstrong and immovable that arguing would have been pointless. It seemed that nature must have played quite the role in this, passed on from father to daughter.

"Very well," Emmerich sighed. "Lady Katherine, Felix will be your attendant to the lord's manor." He said, looking to Felix. "I trust you will be prepared for what this entails. No more silly mistakes, yes?"

"Yessir," Felix said sheepishly.

"Alright, then." Emmerich said. "Lady Katherine, I will need to borrow him for a few minutes to prepare provisions, but after that, you may be on your way."

Emmerich and Felix retreated to the office, and after about an hour passed, Felix returned, wearing a cleaner and crisper set of armor, one befitting his new position.

"Well... Guess it's time then," Felix said.

[User]
Katherine smiled at Emmerich, "Thank you. Bodyguarding can't be that hard, can it? Everything will be fine! You'll see!"

Katherine looked over Felix, and smiled, "Oh! look how handsome! I wonder if I should change into something fancier? No, probably not, huh? That'd draw attention and I...don't have anything fancy or the money for something like that anyway. Heheh.... Anyway, yes, I suppose we should get going."

[Assistant]
Felix's face flushed red for a moment. "Well, the old man said that I should look the part of a captain and of the King's army," he said with a small sigh. "Oh, he also prepared a few sets of travelling clothes for you. There's a horse drawn wagon outside with a few day's supplies. Something small and manageable, he says." He explained, clearly still a little uncomfortable. The whole situation was so odd, he simply wasn't sure how to feel. "Well, princess," he said in a clearly teasing tone. "Shall we go?"

By the time night fell, the two had made it to the point where Prima was only a small light on the horizon. It was hard to believe just how much ground the two had already covered for the night. From how clear it all was, it seemed impossible that there was a war coming, or that they were on some epic quest to prevent it. To some degree, it was as if it were any other summer night.

"Unreal," Felix mumbled, looking to the sky as he motioned for the horse to stop.

[User]
Katherine rubbed her chin, "Is that wise right now, though? Considering there is no King, and we're kind of trying to keep on the down low for now? It might be nice to dissuade some bandits from attacking us, though." she nodded to him, "Anyway, yes. Let's go, Captain." she said, dropkicking poking him the side.

She stopped next tp Felix and looked up at the night sky, "I know, it's strange. It seems like any other day as far as you can tell. But I imagine that's because we're still kind of on the outskirts. Imagine how it is at the castle... Everyone must still be pretty confused and scared. I bet it's a whole different feeling than here."

[Assistant]
"If it's not just overrun with enemy forces," Felix said solemnly. "I guess you'll really have your work cut out for you." He sighed. "But I'm sure that Regalia stuff will help you out, but..." He looked off to the distance.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

Night was his favorite time of the day. Hiding under the cover of darkness, waiting until people were tired, that was the best time to strike. Brax was known around these parts as the Bandit King. Though in all honesty, he wasn't even that high up on the bandit food chain. He just happened to be the strongest guy in the small area that he commanded. His crew wasn't even that large. There were only six of them in total. Including himself, there were five axe wielding men, big, muscular guys who took things by force. The last among them was a smaller, but much faster, knife wielding man who acted as their scout.

The five axe wielders were unknowningly only a short distance away from their next prey. Brax himself was leaning against a tree sharpening his old, worn, but well taken care of weapon. The other four were checking their equipment as well. Everyone looked up from what they were doing when the scout returned to the group. "That was fast." Brax commented.

"It looks like easy pickings tonight, boss." The scout began, pointing in the direction of the road. "Two people headed this way, a man and a woman. They have a horse drawn wagon with them as well, their supplies are ripe for the taking."

Brax grinned, his already not so handsome face turning uglier with dark intentions. "Alright boys, you know the drill. Kill the man, take the woman and the supplies."

With surprising amounts of stealth, the bandits followed the scout until the people came into view. Then they split up, two axe wielders going to each side, while the scout slunk away to sneak up on the two from behind. In a practiced movement, the bandits moved in quickly, surrounding the two and their horse. Two axe wielders on each side, Brax in front of them. "Well, well, well. Looks like two little love birds are out for a stroll. Tell ya what boy, I'm in a good mood tonight, give us your woman and your supplies and we might make your death painless." Brax ended his statement off with a chuckle that was echoed by his men.

Felix blinked, quickly taking in the situation. Seven men in total. Less than the group they'd faced the day before, though they didn't exactly have the support of the veteran soldier the day before. "Kate, do you have your tome?" He asked quietly before looking at Brax. "Hey, sorry, actually have an important place to get to, don't suppose you could just let us go, give us a rain check?" He asked, resting his hand to the hilt of his sword.

[User]
Katherine frowned, "Well, if it is, I'd need an army of my own to take it....which we....aren't even close to having. Haha. I guess we'll worry about that when we get to it. It'll be a long way from now."

She sighed as they were suddenly surrounded, "....More bandits? We just killed like 20 yesterday! I didn't realize so many were around this area. Or maybe I'm just a magnet for them now, I guess." she shrugged and responded quietly back to Felix, "Yes. I have my staff as well. Watch my back and I'll watch yours. And remember, no funny stuff Felix. Let's just get through this so we can find a place to sleep for the night."

She looked back to Brax, "Yeah, I mean we don't even have that much stuff. I'm just a cleric/farm girl, I doubt you could get much for me, and our wagon only has a couple days worth of supplies. For a big group like yours it would probably only last a day or two....you guys don't look that desperate for them. Such big, strong men!" she said with a smile, hoping to butter them up. Katherine doubted they'd let them go, but hey it was worth a shot.

[Assistant]
As expected, the couple tried to talk their way out of it. The poor fools clearly didn't know who they were dealing with. Brax's only regret was that it was too dark to see the fear in their eyes, that was always his favorite part. Oh well, he'd see plenty of fear in the woman's eyes soon enough. The bandit laughed again. "You really don't understand the position you're in, do you?" At a hand signal from the boss, the four bandits surrounded the two moved in a little bit closer, axes raised at the ready.

"You may have chosen the hard way, but I'm feeling nice tonight. Instead of killing you outright, you can have the chance to fight back." Besides, it was more for them of their prey put up a fight. It made the kill more enjoyable. At another signal, only one bandit stepped into range, swinging his axe at the boy in an attack meant to harm, not to kill. They'd toy with the boy for a while, and then once the boy began to beg for mercy, they'd put him out of his misery.

Meanwhile, the scout had moved into position behind the two, crouching low in the grass, settled perfectly in their blind spot. He was not to move until one of two things happened. The first was a signal from the boss. The second being if things went wrong and it turned out the prey wasn't as vulnerable as they had initally thought. Unless the boss died, in which case, he was leaving. No point in risking your life if the guy who pays you is dead.

[User]
Felix sighed. Well, if nothing else, he had a chance to show off. He doubted that Katherine would be telling too many people if Felix went all out. When the bandit stepped towards him, he made a quick movement. The truth was, he didn't have time to unsheathe his blade. The truth was, he didn't need to. The blade was still a heavy iron staff when in its sheath, and with a quick move, the young man removed the blade and scabbard from his belt and clobbered the side of the bandit's head. "So, uh... Sorry about that, but... I think your friend there may have a concussion," he said calmly, looking at the bandit he'd basically sucker punched with a sword out of the corner of his eye as he unsheathed the weapon. "Might be good for you to get him some help from a healer or something," he said as he looked at Brax. The guy seemed tougher than the bandit that had attacked the day before, but it didn't mean too much, seeing as none of them appeared to be anywhere near as tough as old man Emmerich.

Felix's blade shimmered in the moonlight, practically illuminated. "Kate, can you defend the wagon? You can probably keep it safer than I can." He asked.

[Assistant]
"Well, there's a healer right here. I'd be happy to heal him if you left us be." she offered to Brax after watching Felix. She took out her tome, keeping it in her left hand while her right held her staff.

She looked at Felix, "Well, sure, but I'd prefer us both protect it, that way you're close to me if you need help. Or I need help... Regardless, I think their attention is more on us than the wagon right now." Despite this, Katherine actually felt rather calm. She wasn't sure if it was because of Felix's calm, focused confidence that came out of nowhere, or just his presence, or what, but she just felt safe around him.


[System]
Age: 30
Sex: Male
Appearance: Cole
Position within The Imperium of Man: Imperial Guard
Armor: Mark XII Carapace Armour
Weapons: Accatran Pattern Mark IV Lasgun
Accatran Pattern Mark II Laspistol
Combat Knife
2 Frag Grenades
3 Smoke Grenades

Equipment: Photo-Visor
Micro-bead
Type 5 Pressure Helmet
Grapnel Launcher

Personality: Cole can be described as a man of few words. Generally speaking when need though he can be sociable when he wants to. Seems distant to people because of this but, when he makes a friend. Cole can be loyal and dependable to those he trusts. If that trust is broken then Cole basically hates and avoids if he can that person. It is hard to regain his trust after that. A stubborn man that can be unyielding when it comes to things he cares about. Making it very hard to dissuade from something once he sets his mind to it. The years spent as an Elysian Drop Troop have shown that he is cool under fire and quick on his feet. Being a veteran of several tours of duty, Cale is proud of his time as a drop troop and is willing to talk about his past if prompted.
Characters Theme Song: N/A
Characters Voice: N/A

[User]
"NonSENSE!" Medaira objected, looking with a horrified expression at the taller psycker woman." That's impossible! " She objected with mock horror. Medaira was amused and while she looked horrified, her servo head took similar mock horror expression and sounds as it hovered next to her head." Very well… You are unlucky… I fear we will not have enough time to perform proper repair and upgrades for tactical gear, including the research needed for such a deed." Her tone did a complete 180 from her previous mock horror as she now sounded serious and calm.

 "Regular maintenance and repair it will be. I will make this weapon perform to the best of it's previous ability and maybe just a tad better." She stated in confirmation and got to work. She still wanted to get rainbow plasma colors in here somewhere. She was going to get those working later. Maybe she'd make it cycle the colors instead of all at once. That seemed easier to manage and less likely to cause problem with her poor Psycker Companion! Eventually though they needed proper rainbow weaponry! Right after they finish the gold colored plasma project and send it to Terra.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~

 "And like this the MACHINE SPIRIT shall prevail!" Medaira proclaimed as she walked down a corridor. She actually didn't quite remember how she reached the topic of machine spirits, but they were called for the mission briefing and she had just finished the maintenance on the plasma weapon." Ohh… remind me to do more work on the fine weapon later. There are UPGRADES to be made… also need to later replace some questionable parts that won't be issue for now. I will put in new ones. New and improved! Also blessed! I will have every little separate part blessed separately! So no evil can ever take hold of this treasure!" She stated with a voice sounding just a touch too innocent to be quite alright given the subject matter.

 "Ohh, arrived at last!" She chirped happily as she reached and entered the main living room." Greetings to you all again, Our Glorious Leader, Her right hand, Victims of suspicious coincidental looking mishaps of minor harmless nature and of course our Psycker friend who got removed from the Prank Victim List temporary and should likely be arriving ANY MOMENT NOW!" She greeted them in turn all as she walked into the room, starting from their Head Celestian, her most rusted Aviza, the other … retinue members. With that she also tossed her hood back on to fix the proper look for the mechanicus and put on the rebreather device, assuming her usual look with most of her face hidden, leaving only her gleaming eyes to almost appear sparkling with mischief.

[Assistant]
" Very well… You are unlucky… "

"I think I 'lucky' is more appropriate term."

Adrianne privately thought to herself as she watched the rambling half-toaster, doing her best to maintain a neutral expression and suppress the growing sense of unease she felt as she started to reconsider the wisdom of handing her venerable plasma pistol over to this particular tech priestess.

It was with some relief that Andromedai summoned them, and she joined Medaira on her trip back to the main living room.

Even though Adrianne knew little about just how such archaic plasma weapons actually functioned, she had still not allowed Medaira to be alone with her pistol while she was working on it - in hopes that through some supernatural sixth sense, she might sense any mischief, sabotage or unnecessary modification.

"There are UPGRADES to be made… also need to later replace some questionable parts that won't be issue for now. I will put in new ones. New and improved! Also blessed! I will have every little separate part blessed separately! So no evil can ever take hold of this treasure!"

"Yeah, uhm... no? The weapon is working fine, thank you very much. I have gotten quite used to its settings and feel so far, I'd rather not change anything!" Adrianne replied as she accepted the plasma pistol; while trying to sound as cordial as she could; though she was finding herself more and more tempted to look for the tech-priestess's reset switch.

"Throne of Terra, I have dealt with warp entities more sensible than this one!"

Adrianne took a moment to look her plasma pisol over, listening for any growing whining sounds and gently moving a finger across the weapon to check for heat; before putting it back in its holster and closing it securely. Mostly to keep it out of sight and away from Medaira!

*

As they entered the living room, Adrianne was about to greet Andromedai when Medaira suddenly launched into another of her ramblings in front of the psyker. The psyker soon found herself becoming part of the background audience as she waited for Medaira to finish, tilting her head slightly at some of the statements.

" ... and of course our Psycker friend who got removed from the Prank Victim List temporary and should likely be arriving ANY MOMENT NOW!"

"You do realise that I am standing right behind you, don't you?" The taller psyker asked with a slight smirk, before stepping off to the side in the living room so as to reduce the risk of being hit by a sudden-flailing mechadendrite around the unstable priestess.

[User]
Cole Cerus

"Will do," was all he said to Stukov as Cole went back to work on his lasrifle. Carefully cleaning the rifle's integrated lamp pack. He liked Stukov even though he does not know much about him. Seems like a friendly sort of person, especially from his handling of the rookie Titus. Cole knows Stukov was in the navy before joining Andromedai's retinue. Other than that, not much else, partly because of his own silent nature. He did waste a good time to get to know Stukov while they were both in the armory. Such things tend to slip his mind when he is working on something. Still, there are bound to be more opportunities later. Then again, he does not know much about his fellows in the retinue. He might change that, or he might not. It depends really on how he feels, though with Medaira, he might keep his distance. Due to him most likely being on the prank victim list. Cole sighed at the thought, a tech-priestess with a knack for pranks. That is certainly a new one, and Cole guesses he will see if she ever pulls a prank on any of them.

A short time after Stukov, Cole was finished with the maintenance of his gear. He did one last weapon check, first his pistol, and then his rifle. Cole smiled, "Good," he said quietly to himself. Once satisfied with his work, Cole gathered his gear and departed the armory. Soon, he reached the living room and found that already everyone was there. Hmm, so he was the last one to reach the finish line. Not that he minds it. Just means that with him there. They can finally start the briefing and get this show on the road. Cole simply making a friendly nod towards everyone and took a seat on one of the couches. Then he turned to face Andromedai, "So what is the mission boss?

[Assistant]
"I do believe everyone is now here?" said Aviza as she glanced around at the retinue who had now gathered in the main living room of the safe house. Andromedai nodded her head once in acknowledgement before raising her hand to silence everyone present, "If you would all turn your attention to the screen on my right." Celestian Andromedai would make a slight motion towards the screen, which suddenly turned on to show a section of the main city within the heart of Erathell. "This is the city of Dalenarth, we were here earlier when when visited Nickolai, the Planetary Governor within his personal office. Andromedai frowned slightly, remembering the overly pragmatic individual who had informed them of the Chaos situation within the Hyperion system. "As I have stated before, this world is part civilized and part pleasure planet. It is nearly impossible for us to move around in such a setting while remaining inconspicuous. I believe that if we attempt such, it could hinder our operations. So for the moment I will allow us to move freely around the city as we see fit without worry about being seen. Perhaps we could even draw the Chaos forces out of hiding and into the open." Andromedai would pause for a moment as the screen next to her adjusted to show the south eastern edge of the city, this area was much more open and appeared to be filled with large mansion like homes and other residential buildings one would expect in such a location.

"This is the main residential area of Dalenarth, besides living quarters, one can find Chapels dedicated to the God Emperor, stores to purchase needed supplies for anything one could want, and a large open park within the middle." Pointing with her right hand to a large archway of gothic Imperial Architecture that was the gateway into the residential living area, one could easily see a figure of a hulking golden eagle perched upon the top of it, with the creatures wings outstretched and posed in a way as if the avian form was swooping in to attack its pray. "This is the Aquila Arch, it is the entry way into the residential area of Dalenarth and an important location for our investigation for a number of reasons." The screen would adjust to show the archway from a first person view below it, before Celestian Andromedai would speak once more."The first reports of Chaos forces within the city came from this location, and the people who gathered at this location shortly after the report makes me quite interested in beginning here. I was given a list of those who attended this poorly timed gathering, and we shall be paying each of them a visit, shortly." Andromedai would then take a step forward, "This is where we will begin our investigation into the corruption of Chaos. Now, are there any questions that any of you would like to ask before we move out?"

[User]
Adrianne watched the presentation, and could not deny a sense of trepidation that she felt growing within her chest at the sound of it. And it was not just from the malicious presence creeping around at the corners of her mind. Sure, she always preferred pleasure planets. Even if it contained a problematic amount of snobs and pomps, it was at least safer and cleaner than other imperial planets. On average at least. The one exception would be when said planet was under the influence of chaos cults, when anything and everything on the planet could be turned against them.

"Now, are there any questions that any of you would like to ask before we move out?"

"Actually, there is... " Adrianne said, the psyker having found a comfortable seat in one of the leather bound chairs. Her lavender eyes shifted to the screen that Andromedai had been pointing at.
"You mentioned that it is unlikely that we will be unable to maintain stealth. Do we have some sort of quick strike or reaction force that we could summon should we encounter heavy resistance?"

Adrianne inquired, before raising a gloved finger and looking towards the rest of the retinue around them; the motion causing her snow white ponytail to shift behind her.

"By the way things sound, we could be walking into a hornet nest. Especially if we draw the chaotic forces out in the open. And I do not fully trust the local forces. If we get in over our heads or risk being overrun, I would like to have options other than the PDF to pull us out."

[Assistant]
Stukov offered a nod to the rest of the group as they filed in to begin the briefing, and he turned back to focus on the briefing once it began proper. The longer the brief went along, the more trouble he expected this mission to be. Sure, it was probably their best approach since none of those present were exactly going to be, well, able to undertake quiet or subtle operations easily. Crossing his arms, he was about to speak up with Smiles beat him to it, asking if there was backup when it came to rapid response forces. A squad of stormtroopers on standby would be a huge relief should things go poorly, being able to have an escape option is always good.

 "Took the words right out of my mouth, Smiles. Having an escape option in terms of backup would be extraordinarily useful. How much resistance are we expecting from these individuals that we're...paying visits to? Element of surprise should be on our side for the first few, but bad news is one of the fastest things in the galaxy. And for heretics? An inquisitorial retinue is some very bad news indeed." What would concern him would be that, should the first of those visited would already be ready for them, that would give away the fact that someone high up in the chain tipped them off that trouble was heading there way. Nothing that couldn't be sorted out with a shotgun, just need the right ammunition. Still, he was waiting to hear the word on any potential backup, as well as the targets in question and their readiness for intrusions.

[User]
Cole listened and watched intently to the briefing. As it went on, he had some concerns about the mission. While sure, he was used to dropping headfirst into danger literally and had to rely on himself or his squadmates. There was always had some support like Sentinel walkers or a Tauros vehicle to back him up during a mission. Emperor knows how many times those things had been helpful and even saved his life on one occasion. That he always knew who the enemy was, and in this case, it could be anyone, and that fact did not sit comfortably with him. Plus, without the chance to blend in with Chaos around. They may walk into trouble and get caught out in the open.

Cole was about to speak up when Adrianne and then Stukov spoke. He simply nodded; instead, it seems his companions beat him to the punch. It would be nice to have some reliable backup if things get dicey. Preferably some stormtroopers then the local PDF. They may be protecting the planet, but they generally lack the Imperial Guard's precision or skill. Probably never seen actual combat before either. It would be interesting to see what could Andromedai could muster up if not the PDF or stormtroopers. If there are going to be back up at all, which he hopes there would be. So Cole silently waited for Andromedai's response and what else his companions had to say.


[System]
Age: 15
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Black
Height: 5"7
Body Type: Thin, not exactly muscular but in good shape, he could be mistaken as a weakling.

---
Other Information: Xander is one of the most peculiar combination of person you could ever meet. Xander is a nice and usually friendly person but also has his dark and more sadistic sides for a "reserved" group of people (Evil). He loves both videogames (especially Touhou and Fighting Games) and MMA, being taught by his father five different types of martial arts he never really gets picked on. People tried to bully him for sure but only ended up being knocked out on the floor and sent to the principal's office, no one, due to ignorance knows the types of martial arts he practices but it is said he knows Muay Thai and a bit of Brazilian Juijitsu and Shoot Wrestling, but it is clear he knows far more than the three. He is extremely skilled in his martial arts and weapon combat, he also mixes in his flexibility with his fighting style as to surprise his opponents and bear locks easier, meaning he should never be underestimated in a fight. For his less violent personality, he enjoys videogames and quite an active gamer while not training with his martial arts skills, notable titles include Touhou, Street Fighter, and Assassin's Creed. He is known to be immensely friendly but also serious at times as well as childish, this can be noted on how he carries a Touhou plushie in his backpack and will be seen admiring it in public (e has a collection of them) every day. Though it is clear he does this for two reasons; one, he loves the franchise and characters, two he's attracting a fight. He earned the nickname of "Vega" (coming from his favorite videogame character in Street Fighter) after showing off a bit of his sadism when leaving school having a gun pulled out on him as for money. He clearly is not to be trifled with at all. He is known through out the high school he goes to, but doesn't or can't make any friends due to the people there at the school, if anything he has acquaintances but not friends. He's always look to find someone to be his friend and who'll understand him. He started living alone in his parents former apartment after their untimely death, it was fully payed off and there was enough money in their bank accounts to continue paying the bills, it's been three months and his plushie cuddling and search for a friend increased drastically, he clearly did not want to be alone.

---

Interests: Videogames, MMA, Touhou, Anime

Skills: Extremely Flexible & Agile, Skilled in five different types of martial arts, Intelligent, Great Pianist,

Abilities/Powers: (Will edit in when I need to)

[User]
And thus begins... the experiment.

NARRATIVE

It is the fall season, although it is not that much noticeable in most parts of the city except where there are trees. Although some people might catch a chill from the wind. But in the outskirts there are leaves falling from trees in forest areas. The city square, which features a large TV screen that typically only shows breaking and typical news reports and advertisements are doing just that. Nothing out of the ordinary is being broadcasted. Almost fitting for the start of the story a tourism ad plays, or propaganda depending on how you want to look at it.

"Welcome to Trip City! The leading edge of first world order! With the low rates of violence and crime in the recent years humanity has been able to dedicate more time to education and science. Technology advances are projected to increase in the next 10 years. In fact, plans on colonizing on distant planets are no longer dreams, but rather long term goals..."

The ad is quite boring so it fades away into the background of noise. Of course, you might have not have even seen the ad if you weren't in the city square, or watching that particular channel to begin with. Everything that ends must come to a start first. So let's get onto life-- life in Trip City. Where do you start? Who are you? Your story begins now.

[Assistant]
Xander "Vega" Chaser
Inventory: Backpack, School Supplies, Flandre Scarlet Fumo Plushie, Wallet
---

Xander had only just gotten out of school, beginning to walk back home as he was seen in public in the happiest of moods, cuddling his Flandre Scarlet plushie.

"Yes Flandre, I love you too, I don't care what anyone thinks, screw society and anyone who insults me!" He said cheerfully as he walked down the street, before stopping his little scene and just carrying her in his left hand.

He was hungry after school as always and began passing by a street filled with shops and resturants. He looked at each of them while keeping his Flandre quite close to him, just looking around as to see where he might stop to eat.

[User]
Axel Striphe

Axel sat in a nearby tea-shop, a bandaged, slightly bloody fist resting against his cheek as he over-looked the menu. "Excuse me, mam." He called out, his deep voice nearly making the waitress in front of him jump. No one had noticed him enter. "Er, yes, sir?" She smiled at the rather handsome, long-haired man, only for her eyes to widen at his apparel. Axel had been at the Pitt since yesterday, and other than a quick-shower, he didn't really have time to pick out the best clothing for a preppy tea shop. They smelled good, but they were more fit for training. Torn jeans, boots, and a sleeveless black under-armor shirt that hugged his form. White, slightly bloody bandages wrapped around his knuckles, and down to his forearms, and he had a band-aid underneath his left eye. {Practically his picture}

"A mint tea?" He questioned lightly, a slightly rougeish smirk forming on the corner of his lips. The lady blushed when she realized that she was smirking, and quickly dashed towards thef back, calling over her shoulder, "Y-yes, sir!" Axel was rather amused, but he merely looked back down at the menu, with a sigh. They didn't have any bacon. Great.

[Assistant]
Fall, one of Daniel's favorite times or year. The temperature was mild and it meant thee year would soon be winding down. That didn't stop him from completely wasting the morning inside though. His dad was off at work for the day as always and his two younger sisters to school. That just left him and his mom still at home. At least until it was time for him to go to work. Only having two cars between the five of them that meant getting dropped off.

Midday was the usual shift change, just before school let out. Their location was on a fairly busy road which meant there was an influx of people right around after school. Having been through the routine many times Daniel got things ready in advance. Once people started showing up it was a race to keep the place clean and getting food out to everyone.

On top of that they wanted him to talk to people. See how they were doing, get to know them, build up a good customer relation kind of stuff. It wasn't the most fun part of the job but it had been helping him with his social skills. It also taught him how to act interested in some of the most boring or pointless conversation points points ever. Perhaps more valuable was the knowledge of how to get out of those mind numbing situations.

Now that school let out things were going to pick up.

[User]
Renee Yumemi

Renee sighed as she got off of the bus and walked down the sidewalk with her, passively listening to the large TV as she walked on. She was just glad to be done with her classes for today, and she was glad to have a day off of her job for today. So, she decided to spend some time relaxing before she went back to the dorms to study.

She walked down the sidewalk until she reached a bookstore. She walked in and looked at the books in the fiction section. She didn't care whether the books were manga or otherwise, so long as it had an interesting story. She smiled to herself as she read the first chapter, fully becoming engrossed in the story.

[Assistant]
Xander "Vega" Chaser
Inventory: Backpack, School Supplies, Flandre Scarlet Fumo Plushie, Wallet
---

Oh, before we move on, Xander was wearing a black shirt and some grey pants with some sneakers. He only continued to cuddle his plushie before his eyes caught attention of the deli which sounded like a good idea to his stomach. He walked into the deli, carrying Flandre in as if it were nothing. He quickly took a spot next to the window as to get a good view of everything from the resturant.

He slung off his backpack and let it lean on the legs of the chair, before placing his Flandre plushie on the table, making her face him as he smiled back at his little doll. From the table he began to think upon what he would have. Assuming there was already a menu on the table, he picked it up and began to read through it, if not he raised his hand and awaited for service.

[User]
GM -Unnamed Waitress 1, Unnamed Waitress 2
Striphe's location.

When the waitress (1) had the tea ready, she came out. She felt bad for not recognizing that your character walked in. But despite pondering that, she suddenly lost a sense of self. For one second she forgot what she was doing. She flinched, spilling the tea and breaking the tea cup and pot. It almost looked like she wouldn't catch herself, but did, and saw the tea suddenly at her feet, with customers starring at her. She didn't remember dropping it. "Oh my god," she thought, embarrassed. She ran to go get a rag.

Moments later when another waitress (2) was leaving to give someone else their order, the employee door was open long enough to hear a crash, "What's going on?!" "Are you okay?" The waitress who just exited looked worried upon hearing it too.

The commotion died down almost as soon as it started and the bus boy started to clean up the mess. A new waitress came to give Axel's mint tea. "We're so sorry about that. Could I get anything else started for you?" She said it looking a little concerned.

Axel could hear another young lady murmuring in the shop eating a muffin, "What a klutz."

[Assistant]
Axel rose an eyebrow at the long chain of unfortunate events, his sapphire blue eyes glinting in slight concern for the first waitress. Pushing it through the back of his mind, the fighter glanced up at the new waitress and nodded his consent. "No worries. I'm fine for now. Thanks." He accepted the mint tea, wrapping his bandaged hands around the hot mug and taking a slow, favorable sip. He loved tea, and despite being seen as a cocky, skilled fighter in the underground, Axel often wondered what would have happened if he, instead, created a tea shop instead of a Fight Club.

"Is that lady alright?" His voice was curious, and slightly concerned, and Axel glanced back down towards the staff-only door.

[User]
GM -Unnamed Waitress 2
Striphe's location.

"Oh, ya, I'm sure she's fine. She was probably low on blood sugar or something." The waitress smiled, "Let me know if you need anything else, hun, I'll be your server now." She went off to check on the other customer's orders.

Behind the employee doors the waitress who nearly fell over was went home to get some rest. She took the back door, as it was apparent that she never showed up again, and other waiters and waitresses greeted the customers she was attending. They told them that she had gone home, and that they would be serving them now. Business continued to run as normal.

GM No longer controls -Unnamed Waitress 1, Unnamed Waitress 2

[Assistant]
ARRAN WHITE
Come on, I can make it. Arran willed herself to hit that high note. All right, fine, it wasn't that high; just higher than Arran could sing normally, but she had discussed it with the others and this song just had to have a high note there. Hitting the note, YES!, Arran finished up the song. Playing it back she grinned, happy as a sandboy. Saving the file she emailed it to the boys and, after gathering her stuff and switching the equipment off, left the recording studio. Blinking in the bright sunlight, Arran started off down the street, humming the tune to their latest song. Today was a wandering day, she was going to stroll along in almost too hot sunshine, and find somewhere that was hopefully interesting to stop, maybe have a bite to eat, or read a book, probably stopping by the supermarket on the way home, so that they could have Sheppard's pie for dinner tonight.

Strolling past Kyle's, the drummer, school Arran suddenly remembered that they had agreed to meet up somewhere round here, just where was it? Sighing Arran leaned on the wall next to the gate, and checked her watch; five minutes till school ended, she could wait that long. Probably. Sliding down to sit, Arran watched people hurry by, late for something most likely, trying far too hard in a world that couldn't care less. Arran knew she shouldn't keep thinking like this, but downward spirals were so easy to start and really, really hard to stop.

[User]
Daniel Parton:

When Xander entered Daniel greeted him from across the room where he was tending another table. "Welcome to Charlotte's Deli. I'll be right with you." He excused himself from the conversation. Oh his way over he spotted that Xander didn't have a menu. Detouring slightly to pick one up he brought it over. "How are you doing today? Could I get you started with a drink?" Daniel said as he offered the menu. He noticed the plushie but didn't give any sign that he had, partly because he didn't recognize what it was from. Not everyone liked when you point something out. Better to let them bring it up.

[Assistant]
Inventory: Backpack, School Supplies, Flandre Scarlet Fumo Plushie, Wallet
---

"Oh, thank you." Xander said, taking the menu in his hands.

When asked for a drink he looked up in thought for a few seconds before saying,

"Just a glass of water please, and forgive the awkward question, but do you have a drink that's...eh...blood coloured? Might as well keep going with the mood with Flandre here." He said with a shrug, using his head as to point at the plushie.

He began to look over through the menu as to find something he'd like.

"What do you suggest from the menu, that's meaty, of course?" He asked tilting his head at Daniel.


[System]
Name

Race | Age | Sex

Appearance
Images are allowed, but I need a description here.

Personality
I'm sure it's a winning one

Background
* Profession (Optional)
* Class. Think of this in terms of a basic D&D game.
* Heritage. Are you lowborn? The son of a noble? Was your uncle the merchant who raised you?

History (Optional)

Reason for Travel
This is important. You need a good reason as to why your character decided to take the Skirmisher south.

Motivation/Goal
This is also important. This is a self serving and/or bloodthirsty roleplay. You need a goal. It doesn't need to be why you came south, it just needs to be something you're working towards.

Capabilities

Equipment
You will leave this blank for now.
*
*
*

Money
0 for the moment

Languages
You know one language. If you added Linguistics as a stat, you can speak an extra language beyond your native tongue.

---

[User]
---

Jacqueline opened her eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun on her cheek. She blinked a few times to steady her gaze. For a second, she did not know where she was. Once her vision came to pass she noticed she was laying on sand and could hear the water as it lapped on the beach. She began to get up but felt a twinge of pain on her left side. She fell back to the ground, letting the pain subside. She moved to her right side, glancing down to where the pain was, and noticed her clothing torn and a dark cut along her left thigh and up past her hip.

How did she....

And then she remembered.

It was supposed to be a trip. Simple. Or as simple as expected on a voyage over harsh waters. She had looked for the best possible ship to make the trip. Her sisters, her family, begged her not to go. "It's not worth it," they proclaimed, but she knew better. She had to go. The time among her Order was not long and if they had any hope of surviving and prospering, they needed somewhere fresh to start.

And here she was now laying on a beach, wounded and thirsty.

She moved herself up to a sitting position, or what cold best be described as one given the nature of her wounds. She looked around to see if anyone else on the ship was up and about like her. She noted that a few sailors were nearby, but she did not put much faith into them waking up. So what of the other members not a part of the crew? And the Captain?

It would not do her well to sit here and wait. She would need to tend to her wounds if she wanted to continue on. She moved herself to her feet, clenching her teeth as her wound opened up. But she was standing. She gripped her side, looking around for some tools or supplies that survived the crash.

There was a crash, wasn't there? Surely she didn't just wash up on the beach after a drunken night on the ship. Her mind was blurry and she fought for the memories to return. Alas, no luck. Maybe one of the others would stir awake and could let her know what happened. Until then, she would need to find something to help her injuries. And maybe the others, if they needed it. Then she could get to work on figuring out where she was and how to get to where she needed to be.

[Assistant]
Kjetil Svendsen

Kjetil's mind was the first to awaken as he slowly felt two sensations. One was annoying, was it pain that he has grown used to? Maybe and this annoying sensation, he could feel it on his back. The second sensation was an odd one, warmth he felt, and that one was the one that he wondered about the most. "What," he said softly as he opened his eyes and was greeted by the blinding sun. He put his right hand over his face so he could see, and the first thing he noticed was several cuts on his arm. Like one cut over an old scar, Kjetil looked carefully at his arm. "Is that... yeah, that is blood."

Then he looked at his other arm, and it was the same, cuts all over it but small ones. However, the amount meant that something had happened to him last night. "The ship," he said as he tried to remember what had happened the night before. There was laughter and dance, and everyone was in high spirits as they cleared the Peninsula and then... Kjetil remembers feeling a sense of weightlessness and then some odd but terrible sounds that he did not understand what could have caused them. That was it, the rest was fuzzy, and now he is in an unknown place and with who knows who else.

He slowly got halfway up into a sitting position and used his left arm to prop himself up. Now Kjetil had a better view of the bench, and what he saw did not help with the situation. Wreckage, bodies, and it just left him wondering what in the gods' name happened last night. They were home free, now they were wrecked on a bench, and who knows who else survived.

True Kjetil is made of sterner stuff and can handle wounds that would make others bedridden. The pain he feels is just annoying. Bearable but annoying. But there is still a chance that some others survived. Though from what bodies he could see, they did not look like they would be getting up any time soon, especially that one with no legs.

Either way, Kjetil had to try to find someone that was still alive. There is strength and safety in numbers. That and he needs someone to help clean his wounds, bandage them, and see how bad his back is. That is where the annoying sensation is coming from. The last thing he needs is to die of a infection after getting this far in life and surviving what happened to the ship. Such an end is not fitting for a warrior and not one he wishes to die by.

So after getting his bearings and getting up. Kjetil walked down the bench, looking for anything to use to bandage his wounds and for any sign that someone was alive. He can't be the only one that survived, he thought. Otherwise, he would be alone in an unknown land with no direction of where to go. Kjetil simply calmly sighed at the thought and continued on his search. There was bound to be something of use to him. Either makeshift bandages, people, or preferably both.

[User]
Lachlan

---

Something hot made itself felt on Lachlan's back, and as it did he experienced blurry memories of having felt that before, just a bit less intense. For the last two hours or so, the Caelic had been passing in and out of consciousness, generating a very fragmented heap of memories of which each had the sun's rays coming in at a bit of a different angle and intensity. This was no longer below decks, was it ? There was no such thing as sun below decks and the waves sounded very differently, too.

Lachlan battled the resistance his eyelids offered as they had been firmly shut for quite a while and finally managed to open them. Was that sand ? His mind instructed his fingers to move and the feeling coming in return confirmed his visual suspicion, but the arm between these two had become so numb that his hand felt more like a remote part of his body that yet was detached from it.

What he didn't see was a ship, not even that many remains of a ship. Great. So they had indeed crashed... or been crashed ? The overall situation felt a little too sunny, sandy and dry to be situated in the inside of a giant whale's stomach, so to his bewilderment, Lachlan could only suppose that he had indeed survived. Turning his aching head and seeing the unforgiving treeline along with the mysterious statue, the 'yet'-word certainly came to his mind.

The next stupidest thing to do coming to his mind was to turn onto his back, and moments before he had to shut his eyes again due to the blinding sun he could see a familiar figure. "Kje... Kjetil ?" he groaned. He managed to sit up and now take the first real look around: bodies. Whatever kind of predator had haunted them, it had been a very inefficient one. It wouldn't have left so much food behind otherwise.

How sarcastic of him!

"Oh... I see a captain over there." Lachlan muttered more to himself, but still loud enough so anybody in his vicinity would be able to hear it clearly. He shifted his weight onto his feet and stood up, feeling that not only his arms had become numb due to having been static for too long. Lachlan started walking at a snail's pace, but still unstable enough that he might topple over any time again even before reaching the other person.

[Assistant]
Aldrich

"Filthy, worthless slave-thing!"
CRACK!
"How come you don't fight?"
CRACK!
"I will beat you until you obey!"
CRACK!

With each punctuating lash of the whip, Aldrich felt himself slipping further and further away from consciousness. His defiance fading with not so much as a sneer, but a whimper. The gutteral language of his Dwemerlock master remained impenetrably foreign to him, though he could scarcely hear it through his pain. However, the most peculiar thing was that the closer he came to passing out entirely, the pain faded and he felt instead a cool, sloshing sensation suffuse his body. His vision blurred, and he began to splutter, confused as the world began to grow increasingly distant and intangible...

...his eyes opened slowly, things coming into focus one sense at a time. First the stark luminescence of sunlight, then the intermingled sensations of warm air, cold water and gritty sand, then the sounds of waves breaking upon the shore and the breeze rustling leaves, followed by the smell of salt and lastly the acrid taste of salt and sandy grit. Each sensation coalesced at once in a nauseating shock that made him cough and heave as he sat up.
He scrambled for memory, to piece together where he was and just what the hell was going on.
Was on the ship...resting above decks...hate the below...too small, stifling...ship...crashed? Must have...

He laboriously got to his feet, feeling the stiffness of his joints and a sharp sting across his chest. Pressing his fingers to the spot they came away red. Peering down he saw that something had torn a ragged hole in his waterlogged jerkin. He unceremoniously tore the useless thing away, leaving him in only his tunic, breeches and boots. Glancing around he saw the telltale sights of a terrible ship-wreck. Bodies had washed up on the shore, bloated and cold and others stumbled around aimlessly on the shore. His sword and shield he now realised would have likely wound up somewhere on the bottom of the sea. He sighed, feeling the rising panic of being unarmed and unprotected. He fought down the anxiety and looked around to take better stock of the situation.

Immediately he noticed a few of the figures who had been part of the voyage, other travelers and vagabonds like himself. Jacqueline, a woman who reminded him in many ways of Erissia, his erstwhile mentor. Kjetil, the quiet Norgardian and Lachlan, who Aldrich struggled to get a read on during his time on the ship. He hadn't spoken much to any of them, opting to observe from a distance any strangers he met. Not to mention, the bitter look on his face at all times usually kept people at bay.
Aldrich raised his voice, addressing any who may respond.
"The Captain...has anyone seen the Captain?" If anyone among them could restore some semblance of order, it would be that salty sea dog.

[User]
The sand not shielded by their bodies was hot to the touch, but moving quickly or having the luxury of shoes helped. One had to be careful, for debris and flotsam still protruded out of the sand. Blood mingled with the water, and some of it had reached land, staining the beach. Strange birds flocked at the trees, feathers and beaks bearing colors that encompassed the entire rainbow. They watched and cawed at them like an audience at a praelian coliseum.

Captain Cole Burnside roused from his position, having heard voices. He looked and felt like hell, and he lifted himself just long enough to cough out a mouthful of sand before collapsing again. He groaned, but stayed still. His hat was missing, it lay by Jacqueline as she approached. Lachlan made it there first, however. His shadow above the Captain drew his attention, and Burnside blinked, looking up at him. It seems Aldrich's question had been answered, if non-verbally.

From across the way, another figure made their entrance. It was Holfort, one of the crewmen. Blood soaked his scalp, and his body held scratches and burns like the rest of the survivors. In his callused hands was a boarding pike that he used like a tall walking stick to support his weight. He bumped into Kjetil, who so far had been unlucky in finding anything to bandage himself with.

"The others are this way, we must get there. The Captain..." Holfort began, motioning for the Norgardian to follow.

Once everyone had congregated to the Captain, who now sat up and rubbed his head, he was able to address them, albeit slowly. So far it looked like these six had been the only survivors.

"Gods help me," The Captain cursed, his eyes moist. Not from crying, but the pain and exhaustion that took him. "That damned storm..."
Moving looked like it was a chore, but if they didn't go soon they would bake or be found by whatever beasts smelled the stench of carcasses cooking in the sun. Holfort asked if Captain Burnside was alright, but the Captain waved him off. "Don't worry about me. We should be...be two days sail to Darkwater. Damned we were so close! Maybe we could make it two days on foot if we cut through the jungle. If we follow the beach? I don't know. I don't...it's so hard to tell. Hells, we could be on an island, but I doubt it."

If one were to look across the beach and thoroughly search, a few items could be found:

* A broken boarding pike, half sized at close to 5 feet.
* A boarding axe embedded in a broken piece of hull.
* 2 water flasks. One filled with fresh water, the other filled with salt water.
* A chest. The Captain's chest. Locked and with no key.
* A rusted cutlass with no sheath.
* A carving knife in a knapsack.
* A map under some flotsam, ripped in half and faded.
* A bottle of rum.


[System]
BASIC
Goes By (Nicknames): None currently available.
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: Human

APPEARANCE

Face Claim (Actor/Actress They're Played By): TBA / I've yet to find an actor for this character.
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Blue
Skin Tone: Slightly pale.
Height: 6'2
Weight: 170lbs
Build: Lithe, somewhat muscular.
Weapons: Twin swords, multiple daggers and knives hidden on him.

Overall Appearance:

Dark features, Visible, jagged scar that runs down his right eye. Various scars are hidden underneath his clothing.

Ghent is often clad in black or dark grays.
Most of his clothes are made from black leather; his cloak has a hood and a mask to cover the lower half of his face if needed. He has various weaponry concealed; he often wears fingerless gloves, laced up bracers, and boots.

PERSONALITY

Likes: Gold.
Dislikes: Talking, poverty, people in general.
Strengths: Picking locks, leadership, agility.
Weaknesses: Stubbornness, Greed.
Fears: Loss, failure.

Overall Personality:

Stubborn | Calculating | Complicated | Quiet | Incredulous | Shrewd

Ghent's family was very often poor and lived in a lower part of a small, poverty-stricken town. His mother passed away shortly after giving birth to her second son, Garth. Ghent was ten years in age when she passed.

Ghent's father turned to drinking heavily and he came to blame his children for the loss of his wife. Fearing for Garth, Ghent took matters into his own hands; at the age of thirteen, he took his younger brother and left home, never once looking back.

Life on the road was not an easy one, but Ghent was determined to tough it out so that they would not have to return to their father. At first, Ghent began with petty theft; he stole what was needed in order to keep them alive, they took shelter where they could and lied whenever questioned. As the years went on, they moved up in the world. After years of practice, Ghent became a highly skilled thief. This was the start of a life he would live well past his teenage years.

* * *

Ghent has an eerie calmness about him and his emotions are seldom ever shown. Because of this, he is very difficult to read -- almost impossibly so. Ghent handles matters in a diplomatic way and doesn't often resort to violence unless necessary. For the most part, he is quiet and reserved, therefore much of his past is unknown.

Deep down, Ghent does have a heart, though he does his best not to show it. He'd be the last to admit it, but he has a soft spot for those in need.

BACKGROUND

Date of Birth: ? Have to calculate that. ,_,
Place of Birth: Outskirts of Laketown. Not quite within the town, though close.

Family Relations:

- Garth (younger brother)
- Lydia (Mother; deceased)
- Vincent (Father)
- Kaiden (cousin)

[User]
"Fili," Thorin sighed, his breath visible from the cold. Fili speaking out did not come as a surprise; both brothers were incredibly loyal to one another.
"One day you will be king...and you will understand. I cannot risk the fate of this quest for the sake of one dwarf, not even my own kin." Seeing that Fili's loyalties were divided, Thorin put a hand to his arm in an attempt to stop him. "Don't be a fool. You belong with the company."

Further away, Kili shook his head, insisting to Oin that he was fine. Why would no one listen to him? They had no place else to go, he belonged in Erebor, and above all else he needed to help reclaim their homeland.
"Oin...please, speak sense into him." Kili became increasingly lightheaded, the voices around him were making less and less sense. "I won't let this stop me--"
"Lad, enough! You haven't a choice!" Oin started to guide him away from the dock, and Kili's eyes stung with betrayal. Had things been different, he could have helped, but now he hadn't a choice.

[Assistant]
Being stopped by Thorin, didn't stop Fili, unfortunately. All his eldest nephew DD was glare at his uncle, and yank his arm away from his grip. Walking towards Kili, he stood next to him, like he always did during their youth.

The trumpets began to announce the Master as he steps onto a platform and the crowd cheers.

Back in the Masters house, Bofur is passed out drunk under a table when he hears the trumpet. "By my beard, is that the time!?", he shouted with slurred speech before he rises until banging his head on the table. He then rushes out to join the dwarves on the dock. "Wait!"

"Go now with our good will. And may your return bring fortune to all!", the Master announces before the crowd cheers with the company setting off on the barge down the lake. At the same time, Bofur pushes through the crowd, but when he reaches the dock, he sees the rest of the company has left, and is too far down the lake for him to reach. While this was happening, Saeril approached the remaining dwarves, and stood just behind the brothers, placing a hand upon Kili's shoulder, trying to sooth him of his despair.

"I can't believe he would just leave us like that!", Fili growled angrily. Bofur looked to the side, hearing Fili's voice and smiled. "Oh, did you all miss the boat as well?"

[User]
"Aye, we have. We'll need to get this one indoors; I need to treat his leg." Oin was grateful that Fili and Saeril showed up. Kili's condition hadn't stopped him from being stubborn, and he doubted he would have been allowed to get very far in tending to his injury.

"He doesn't care," Kili's voice was low, broken. The fact that Fili had stayed for him meant a lot, though he also pitied his brother. Fili's dream had been to reclaim their homeland too.
Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Kili looked up to his godmother, feeling unworthy of her compassion at this time. "Delva, I'm s-sorry," he tried to apologize for breaking the promise, but he could not finish. With a small moan of pain, he started to collapse. The sickness had set in, he could no longer fight it.

[Assistant]
"Kili?", Fili felt his brother's weight give out next to him, going down to leaning into him. "Kili!?", Saeril saw him fall, and he looked like he was about to pass out. Hurrying to catch him, and before he could fall to the ground, the hooded she-elf cradled him. Moving his ebony black hair from his face, he was in pain. Please, not now, she thought to herself. "Come on", she told the others as she held Kili in her arms, carrying him closely against her chest. Her motherly instincts were kicking in now.

Saeril went to the bargemen's house, knowing that his place was best for sanctuary; Fili, Bofur, and Oin following. Once Bard opened the door, he was not pleased. "Please, bargeman, we need sanctuary", she was now begging. "No. I'm done with dwarves, go away!", he was about to close the door, but she stopped it with a mighty hand. "Bard! Kili needs help, and this is the best place to do it. There's nowhere for us to go", she heard whimpering in pain, and she held her godson close, a sign that she was there with him.

[User]
As Bard finally gave them permission to enter, Oin lead them inside. With Bofur's help, they cleared the table off so that Kili might be set down. Kili was already perspiring from fever; the poison was flowing in his blood and making him deathly ill as a result.

"Set the lad down here," Oin helped Saeril set Kili to the table, which only resulted in the youngest crying out. Face ashen, Kili struggled against them and started to panic when he felt Oin remove the bloodied bandaging around his leg.
"I need herbs, something to bring down his fever." Oin looked to Bard, hopeful that their host might have such items on hand.
Not in his right state of mind, Kili was putting up a fight and trying to get away from the hands holding him down.

[Assistant]
Bard was frantically searching through what he had in a cabinet. "I have nightshade...feverfew...", he was looking fast, and Saeril was trying to keep it together, almost beginning to pace back and forth. "That's not good enough", she breathlessly told him. Her heart was beating quickly; images of Bolg were coming to her, and silent anger slowly boiled within her. All she could do was keep it locked up. However, Kili's cries of pain weren't helping. "Do you have any kingsfoil?", she rushed to say.

"No, it's a weed. We feed it to the pigs", Bard explained while he frantically searched for other medicine. "Pigs?", Bofur then gets an idea. "Don't move", he told to Kili, which Saeril didn't really think it was necessary. She knew how to heal, thanks to her mother, but she wasn't sure if she could do it. She wasn't good at it either, and sometimes, it becomes a disaster. But this was her godson in need; she needed to do this. For him and his brother. The she-elf never felt so conflicted.

[User]
Kili glared at Bofur and started to sit up, teeth clenched. Fili prevented him from getting far, and so Kili gave up midway. The pain was excruciating, and he continued to cry out, whimper, and struggle against the ones helping him.

Oin shook his head as he looked the injury over. In all his years as a healer, he'd never seen an injury quite like this one. There was more to this than a flesh wound, Kili had been poisoned.
"There's little I can do for him until Bofur gets back," he admitted fretfully, then jumped in surprise as Kili nearly kicked him.
"Lad! Hold on, now! We're trying to help!" No amount of talking was getting through to Kili, he was too wrought with pain and fading fast. At this point, he was paler than his godmother.

"Isn't there anything you can do?" Oin turned his attention to Saeril, and he held onto the hope that she may have had abilities where he did not. Elves were known for possessing powers to heal, though not all.
"You must have some abilities to heal...can you take this sickness from him?"

[Assistant] Saeril was looking around, and she moved herself to see Kili's wound on his leg by moving the binding out of the way. As soon as she did, she felt the young dwarf jolt in pain, not to mention that he was almost screaming. Where is the Kingsfoil? It was a nasty wound to see, about two inches. She had to drown the pain before it could get worse, something to delay for the Kingsfoil to come. Taking some of the feverfew, the she-elf worked quickly to stand at his side. "This is gonna string a little bit!", she told her thrashing godson, using her strength to restrain his leg, and place the medicine upon the wound.

[User]
Desperate, Kili looked to his godmother in hope that she might heal him. Rather than relief, she unintentionally brought him more pain. Kili screamed out, and in his confusion he nearly hit his own brother. This wasn't going very well.

Bofur was having better luck. After a through search, he'd stumbled across a pigpen. One of the pigs was chewing on something all too familiar to him -- the kingsfoil. Quickly, he ran back towards Bard's home, the weed clutched tightly in his hand. Unbeknownst to Bofur, he was leading Bolg and several orcs right back with him.

Oin did what he could to help Fili and Saeril. "Where is he?!" Bofur was taking too long. There was a loud thud on the roof, then another on the balcony. Sigrid looked to see if Bard had returned, and she was horrified to see an orc making its way inside. As if things weren't bad enough already, they were now under attack.

[Assistant]
Sigrid left the others holding Kili down as she heard a noise outside. She thought it was Bard or Bofur coming back. "Da? Is that you?" she called, though she screamed suddenly when an Orc appeared, blade swinging. The eldest daughter slammed the door shut, but the Orc only pushed it open again.
Shouting out loud, Oin picked up an empty bowl from the table where Bard had scattered the herbs and threw it at the Orc, having no other weapons to use. With Fili joining in to fight them off, Saeril shielded his brother, clawing an orc in the face with her finger cuffs.

Outside, Bofur is attacked by an Orc, and just as he's about to be killed, an arrow shot the back of the obscene creature.

[User]
For the most part, Kili was out of it. Delirious with fever, he barely understood what was happening until he saw his godmother claw the nearest orc in the face.
Teeth grit, Kili started to push himself up. They were in trouble, and he felt it his duty to help no matter what. "FILI!" The youngest shouted out a warning to his brother; one of the orcs was approaching his brother from the back, sword raised over his head.

Tauriel, along with Legolas had arrived right in time. Twin knives in hand, Tauriel kicked one of the orcs away as it was closing in on Tilda. Sigrid hit one of the orcs over the head with a dinner plate, and a fourth went after Saeril to avenge the one mauled.


[System]
Extras
Character Quote: Something they say a lot or live by
Theme Song: What would be playing when they walk up if we were in a movie?
Aura Color: Lavender
Scent: From strongest to weakest: Perfume, grass, animal urine
Anything Else:

Nor Dunadkar

Character Summary
Aliases: The Barber
Age: 120
Race: Mountain Dwarf
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Place of Origin: Arian
Gender: Male
Class: Fighter

Stats

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

Strength: 14
Dexterity: 15
Constitution: 20
Intelligence: 8
Wisdom: 9
Charisma: 9

Physical Attributes
Height: 4'7"
Weight: 185 lbs
Build: Muscle
Eyes: Cobalt
Hair: Obsidian, thick and wavy; kept very well groomed, short and stylish.
Skin Tone: Earthenware Clay
Racial Abilities:Infravision 60,
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: Yes
Day To Day Attire: When he's traveling, which he does quite often, Nor wears very thick, sturdy clothes. They don't wear or tear too easily, provide protection against the elements and tend to be made of cheaper material than fine clothing. When he's not traveling he wears thick, study clothes. They can be used a long time with little to no fuss and tend to be made of cheaper material than finer clothes. 'Sides, when you work with Dwarven hair fer a living, thick clothes keep ya from feeling itchy all over.
Strengths: Indomitable Will, Swift Fingers, Strong Memory
Weaknesses: Gimpy left knee, hemorrhoids, thin-blooded

Psychological Attributes
Arrogant * Team Player * Greedy * Dependable

Sexuality: Straight
Relationship Status: Technically married. It's a long story
Personality: If there's one thing in life that you have to learn, it's that you always need to look out for Number 1. A lot of folk, especially traditionalists will go on about how important it is to be in a group, the support you can provide and blah, blah, blah. But these same people will gladly double-cross their own flesh and blood for a bit o' gold, property and land. Even if they pretend to hide it, they know what's really important.

You know who'll never go against your best interests or try to manipulate you? Yourself. And you know how you can protect yourself from gettin' stepped all over? Power. Get some power and they may snub about your attitude in their head or behind your back, but they'll come to heel when you call.

Now it's important that ye don't misunderstand what's being said. People can be useful and nice to have around. Sometimes you even need to trust em with yer life (usually when under risk of being wiped out by a buncha green blokes out fer blood), but try not to make a habit of it, and always be ready to cut down the guy before you afore he can.
Habits: Scratching his beard, Laughing Menacingly
Hobbies: Hunting large animals
Fears: Oceans, Lightning, Vampires
Likes: Tidy Hair, blood, money, revenge, knives, children
Dislikes: Unkempt hair, liars, cowards, jewelry, cold food, randomness

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

* Intimidation: Self explanatory
* Animal Handling: He knows how to work with animals
* Profession (Barber): He's good at the trimming and styling of men's hair. He could probably do something with lady hair if he tried
* Weapon Proficiency (Knives): Stab, stab, stab
* Shield Proficiency: Luckily it will protect me
* Weapon Proficiency (Polearms): Stab at a distance

Magic
A listing of spells, their descriptions - casting times, elements needed to cast, expected damage, any draw packs to casting - Limit 5 for single class, limit 3 for dual class - magic classes only
* Dwarf: He can't use magic because he's a non-spellcaster dwarf.

Possessions

Possessions Generally On Person: Clothing, coin purse, money, etc
* Traveler's Clothes: Boots, tunic, Trousers, Cloak, standard stuff
* Coin Pouch: For small purchases
* Utility Knife: For not stabbing people
* Masterwork Dwarven Straight Razor: Sharper than George Carlin's wit
* Item: Description
* Item: Description

Weapons: Personal weapons, no magically enhanced items
* Dwarven Combat Knife: It's big, wicked and more than enough to gut a human clean
* Tower Shield: Big enough to completely hide behind if he kneels right next to it sideways. Makes an effective battering ram.
* Item: Description
* Item: Description
* Item: Description
* Item: Description

Armor: Base armor only, no magically enhanced items
* Full Plate: Made with traditional dwarf forging techniques, this full suit of armor is definitely tough, but Nor doesn't wear it without having occasion to
* Item: Description
* Item: Description
* Item: Description
* Item: Description
* Item: Description

Animals: Have a horse or bird? Limit 1 non bonded
* Mule: She pulls the cart. Her name is Dorka

Pack Contents: What do you carry in you pack when traveling
* Small Cart/Wagon: Nor doesn't actually have a pack, but a wagon that holds things he needs for business inside
* Barber Items: Kettle for heating water, shaving cream, boar hair brush, Chair for sitting in, small and large towels, hair scissors, combs and brushes
* Survival Stuff: Bedroll, 10 pints oil, Two Week's feed, 2 weeks rations, lantern, Firestarter, 50 feet of rope
* Money Stash: Where the serious dough is contained. If you touch, you get stabbed
* Item: Description
* Item: Description

Magical Items: Limit 2 low level
* Deluxe Shaving Cream: Anywhere it is applied, it prevents razor burn
* Floating Mirror: About as large as a human face, it'll stick in the exact same position it was let go of.

Potions: Premade or prepurchased potions - limit 5
* Cure Light Wounds (5): Sometimes you nick yourself while shaving and you don't want to wait for it to heal
* Cure Serious Wounds (2): For more serious occasions
* Grease: The wagon wheels get stiff occasionally
* Item: Description
* Item: Description

Creation Materials: Anything used to brew potions or for alchemy
* Item: Description
* Item: Description
* Item: Description
* Item: Description
* Item: Description
* Item: Description

[User]
---

---

SanaLocation: Grounds outside of the tower.
Interacting With: Keystone
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 Watching the tower nearly take out Cyn and Nor wasn't a fun thing to watch but at least they were out and they were safe. It wasn't long before Keystone came running out as well. She would have hugged the big oaf but she had seen the throwing up and she knew better. She just kind of stood there, her knees buckling slightly under the shaking of the ground. He was alive, the hug could wait until the bastard had a bath. A long bath, in bleach.

 "Where's Satilla and Thomas?" she asked Keystone. He was the last out of the tower and those two were still missing. Cyn and Nor were out, he was out, she was out, Kyra and Ash were dead, so that left Thomas and Satilla. She hadn't seen either of them make a leap of faith like she had out of one of the upper levels. She was pretty sure she had seen Keystone vomit on Thomas but now with all the dust and debris she shouldn't be sure. Carefully she started looking around as she brought her hand to her mouth and nose trying to stave off a lot of the dust and not breath it in.

---

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Update

---

 Remember to get rolls even if outside of the tower due to the fact the walls are a tumbling down. The last floor of the tower is holding constantly but shit is still up for grabs and will be determined by a roll by roll basis for each person about to post.

---

---

Map:

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1st Floor

New Rotation:
Thomas
Keystone
Nor
Sana
Satilla
Cyn

[Assistant]
Thomas Richard Harrison
Location: "The Structure Formally Known As Tower" & Freedom
Interacting with: Satilla, Keystone,

Well, the undertaker drew a heavy sigh,
Seeing no one else had come,
And a bell was ringing in the village square,
For the rabbits on the run,

Man on the run. Fueled by a powerful mix of anger, fear, and the arrogant airs of superiority, Thomas sloughed off the vomit as he rose up from his fall. A long descent from the heavens for a stellar being, but the boy brushed off his shoulders as he turned his head to see their foolish healer tumble face-first into a pile of stinking vomit. Surely with such emesis, Keystone earned himself another nemesis. Thomas'own filth lay outside, just beyond the tower where surely by now the patch had dried as the earth swallowed up the wallowing waste. The healer could get up herself, she had two arms and a two able limbs, and once Thomas could rid himself of these robes and find a hot bath to be drawn to wash his vessel of this cretin's gastric contents he could perhaps drink a potion to recover and rest. Vengeance could wait until he was appropriately dressed to harvest the long-due reckoning upon that oaf! He had robe left unspoilt, one befitting of his current stellar phase. His black robes as dark as night would match his goal... Good. Use your aggressive feelings boy, Let the Hate flow through you.

So he did, the surge rising as the tower fell, blocks of stone crumbling like hailfire and dust like rain. His feet moved and towards the exit, the doorway of his escape. He would not be entombed there in that idiot's folly, no the buffoon must pay dearly for the mistake. A fellow mage, they could have interrogated, questioned, learned from maimed. All the knowledge of the tower and his techniques lost. Yes, burning the infuriating thoughts into the combustion engine, Thomas took off after Keystone, running past the imploding ruins and into the promise of freedom and whispers of revenge. The loose archway of the door itself began to fail, the breaking archstone began to quiver, an omen of things perhaps? And the brown dirt and the black ash and the grey dust, curtained over the doorway, into a cloud of obscuring fog as the structure became a storm. Yet his final push knew no bounds, his eyes closed and chin tucked, his shoulders squared off as through the shaken void the cosmic sorcerer ran, freedom at last...

That is, until he felt something stopping his further movement, as a paunchy fleshy wall stopped his advance. This was a rather awkward moment given both parties'positioning. The younger lad having his forward momentum stopped by the bulk, notably colliding with the other man's backside. Of which, when perhaps looked at a particular angle, maybe if one squinted one's eyes a bit, and cocked a head over to a degree of tilt...

You might have sworn that Thomas just pelvic thrusted Keystone.

[User]
---

---

Keystone

---

Location: Outside Deymin's Tower
Interacting With: Thomas, involuntarily.

---

 Hell of a day, all around. Hell of a day. There was light and fresh air and bits of tower flying about him; choking dust swirling around, making breathing slightly more perilous that is otherwise would. Granted, the fact that he was breathing at all was something of a miracle in and of itself, considering the nature of the structure he had just exited. The moment he got free of the collapsing tower, he set his sights on locating the rest of the group. His first concern in that regard was finding Sana. A quiet sigh to himself seemed to bookend the thought that, out here in the world, that pushy, arrow-flinging Gypsy was the closest friend that he had. Maybe even a little more. It would pain him greatly if something had happened to her. So definitely, finding Sana.

 Luck seemed to be with her, and also with Keystone, as the first thing that he heard upon reaching freedom was her voice, barking an urgent question at him concerning the location of Thomas and Satilla. He had just began to shrug; he had no idea where Satilla was and Thomas, well... is presence made itself known as he unceremoniously plowed into the big Pugilist's posterior. All things being equal, he wasn't going to fault the guy for a tiny mishap while trying to save his own ass, but nor would he give him any reassurance. He took a step or two forward so as not to block the way out for anyone else behind them, an addressed Sana with a voice struggling not to cough on tower dust, "Found Thom!" He jerked a thumb backward to indicate the spellcaster's presence, then turned to him as he moved farther away from the decrepit building, "Oh, you don't want nothin' from that end, lad."

[Assistant]
Nor
Location: Outside the Tower
Interacting with:N/A
 Why any of these humans thought it was a good idea to stay put was beyond him. Just because you were outside the building didn't mean you were safe. The bloody thing could still fall on your head, and it had tried to do that to him just a few seconds ago. You couldn't be sure until you'd actually moved yourself to either a safe distance or until the whole thing completely collapsed, or fell apart as much as it would. Perhaps that remaining floor would stay where it was, but he wasn't going to give it the chance to take another potshot on his arse if he could help it.

 Not that it was making things easy. It felt like every other step some miscellaneous chunk of the tower happened to fall right in front of his foot, so he'd have to alter his course so as to not trip over it. And then the altered course put a tree directly in his path so he had to maneuver around that. But around the tree was a great, big, thorny bush. He might have been in full plate, but that just meant that any vines that did get through would be that much harder to remove. And so on. He did manage to get some more distance in the chaos. Perhaps a bit more and he'd be more or less out of the danger zone.


[System]
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Nationality: Highmen (Miraaheim)

Appearance: Many of the people of Miraheim have an established reputation for their appearance. Varian's appearance doesn't trail too far from the conception of a typical Highman. Like many of the people of the north, he has an imposing stature, standing at a height of 6 ft 4 in, or about 1.93 m. He has fairly pale skin, mostly due to the underexposure of being in the sun, which is rarely seen around Miraheim. His body is well-proportioned. He is not overly muscled, but rather well-toned, neither being too skinny nor too large. He does however, have fairly long legs due to high length, allowing him to make long strides, especially useful in combat, making him not only quite large, but also exceptionally agile for his height.

Varian is usually found with a small beard, a bit different than that of normal people of Miraaheim, who sport rather large beards. Varian dislikes the look, and prefers a smaller, kept one. His skin is generally rough, with a set of three distinct scars going in a line across his cheek, many of which believe he has received from an encounter with a wolf, but Varian would never be the one to tell if that is really the case. His eyes are brown and his gaze appears as if he is always in a foul mood. However, that is just his normal gaze. Varian has relatively long, shoulder-length light-brown hair, which has been slightly combed back, but also chopped a bit to the side, giving him, as he would say, a perfect look for a mercenary.

Varian's clothing isn't exactly traditional, but combines a bit of his cultural background into it. He is found wearing a sleeveless grey leather vest. Around his vest is a baldric which extends across his chest and over his right shoulder, which is used to holster his two hand axes on his back, which are prominently displayed in an 'X' shape on his back. On his right shoulder attached to the baldric is a mass of grayish-white fur believed to originally be from a wolf, perhaps the same one that gave him the scars on his cheek, but again, Varian would never say. Varian also has a belt fitted tightly across his waist, and below that a pair of black pants of common fabric of the time. He wears boots, which are grey in color and reach just above his ankles.

Personality: Despite his appearance, Varian tends to somewhat break the norm of how most people view the average Highman, at least, to an extent. Where most Highmen are loud and rash, many will find that Varian is composed and a bit quiet. At least, compared to the average Highman. When in a group of familiar people, or people he feels more comfortable around, he would usually become more talkative. He does not wish to do so in front of people he is unfamiliar with, especially clients. However, when he does talk, many might notice his rather dark sense of humor. He often finds humorous that which others might believe to be sinister. He would more likely be the one to laugh at other's pain and misery, especially if the circumstance of it is ironic, far-fetched, or unusual. With that is added a second dimension of Varian being slightly critical of others, and rather unsympathetic of their troubles, unless they are clients, in which case he is very sympathetic, especially if the compensation is good. This is to say that Varian may be a bit cold, but he is also practical and smart about it. He knows when he should and shouldn't say certain things, especially if the consequences be the removal of his head. His true feelings, beliefs, and personality would never reveal themselves to anyone but close friends, and because of the very nature of his work, he has few of those.

Although he has mostly attempts o break away from the traditions of his forefathers, Varian finds himself instilled with a few values from his homeland. He is not religious, but still finds comfort in the words and sayings of the ancient tongue in Miraheim, almost treating it as good luck charms. Although he has long strayed from the Highmen tradition of honor and family, some of those views still continue to work its way through his mercenary work, mostly having to do with family. Although he has long since lost any conventional family, he almost treats his mercenary group like an extended family. As their leader, it can almost be said that he could be seen as a head of a family, and as such, it is his job to keep the rest of his family safe, both with conventional and alternative methods.

History: Varian was born in the southern part of Miraheim, in a village called Renvall. He came from a long line of Highmen who defended the Maerrun in the province there. His father is the latest to have taken up the guard of the Maerr, his mother dying in childbirth. It was expected of Varian to one day grow up to become the next guard of the Maerr, and continue the tradition the family held. However, Varian realized even as a child that the life of servitude was not for him. In his opinion, why should he have to pledge himself to someone without getting something in return? The concepts of honor and tradition alluded Varian, even as a small boy. His father would reprimand him in the hopes that he would eventually accept that this was his ordained purpose, but Varian never could say that he did.

However, as he became an adolescent, he was taught in the ways of combat. This part of Miraheim tradition was one he cherished. It was taught in Miraheim that a man who could not fight was not a man at all. Varian learned early on that there was wisdom to these words. But Miraheim weren't particular in terms of what weapons can be used. Varian wasn't particularly fond of the large, single axe that had become common in Miraheim's culture. He preferred to be more agile and moveable in combat. In the end, he chose as his preferred weapon choice a set of hand axes. This allowed him to keep within the tradition of the axe, while still maintaining his agility. Varian learned early on in his life that he had a talent for combat, and very much enjoyed it.

As he grew and became a young man, an event happened in his life that altered his fate. Being from Southern Miraheim, the villages to the south were prone to attacks from orcs and other foul creatures of the mountains. One night, orcs came down from the mountain and attacked the village. Varian's father was among the men who defended the village, but by day's end, he was murdered. In a single night, Varian's life was changed completely. His father had left him everything. His property, his land, his money. Varian found himself for the next few weeks struggling to decide what he was to do. Although he had never wanted to before, he expected he would have to grow up to become a guard of the Maerr. That was his destiny. But that was the destiny his father had laid out for him. Now that he was gone, there was nothing truly keeping him there. So on a whim, one day, Varian packed a few of his belongings, and left Renvall, never to return.

For a while, Varian wandered. It would be an understatement to say that he was ill-prepared for the travels of life in the wild of Miraheim. From the cold, harsh winter to the beasts that roam the country, Varian found himself realizing something crucial: He was taught how to fight, but not how to survive. His was supposed to be the life of servitude in a grand hall of a Maerr, not roaming the wilds. The day came when a large grey wolf had approached him, seeing Varian as his next meal. Although Varian didn't know it that day, the wolf would be his test to see if he could truly learn to survive. A battle occurred, Varian's steel matching against the wolf's fangs and claws. Varian triumphed in a grueling contest, but not before the beast left a permanent mark on his face. He skinned the wolf for his pelt, and wore it with him ever since.

In the following town he visited after the event, he had heard about a merchant who needed passage between towns, and that he would pay anyone willing to accompany him as a guard. Varian heard, and decided to apply right away. It was his first true job as a mercenary. The first of many. His cargo had apparently been threatened by a bandit the day before, and the merchant expected an attack while on the road, which evidently did happen. The bandits came in a trio, but as Varian soon found out, were both quite slow and extremely ill-trained. Varian took care of them fairly easily, and lead the merchant to his destination. It seemed that Varian had finally found his calling.

Varian traveled all across Miraheim for mercenary work. Because of the adaptation to the weather, Varian removed a part of the wolf pelt off of his back, but kept a piece of it embedded on his shoulder, as a constant reminder to him of the day he considers he became a man, a tale he will probably never tell to anyone.

Weapon Preference: A set of hand axes. Varian prefers to move agile through combat, and instead of choosing a single larger axe as his standard weapon, chose two smaller ones which he uses to hash, slash, and bash opponents. Varian constantly maintains the sharpness and quality of the axes, although a chip could be seen on one of them.

[User]
Varian Sigmund - Dalenham, Ethora

Varian scoffed in response to Osmund's jest. The man had said practically the same sentence every single time he did something even remotely tiring. The Highman scanned over his mercenary companion for a brief moment - he was decent enough of a fighter, and didn't annoy Varian as previous companions of his had in the past, which made him tolerable. Varian knew there was more to this man, but he also didn't care enough to find out what that was. In all likelihood, Osmund would either move on or end up dead within the month. That's generally how these mercenary bands played out for Varian.

There was a time when he traveled with a female sellsword where that didn't play out as he predicted. He had found her in southern Miraheim, nearly frozen to death and more drunk than a woman of that size ought to be. The woman, Cassandra, ended up being quite a skilled swordswoman herself, and the two traveled for a few months together, before they separated. Varian wondered for a few moments what ever became of the young woman.

He snapped out of his thoughts as Osmond spoke aloud about the orcs. Varian took another large swig of his ale and shrugged his shoulders. "If they weren't monstrous, we wouldn't have gotten paid as well as we did. Speaking of which..." Varian began reaching in his bag by his chair, removing the sack of coins given to him by Edward. He distributed Osmund's share to him, just as he heard Edon's voice above him.

Varian glanced at the man and cocked an eyebrow and snorted. "Just Varian. Saying 'Commander' won't get you any extra silver," He motioned for Edon to take chair beside him. "The payment. Ten silver for each of us. Job well done. And a good job staying alive." He said to them, before leaning back and grabbing hold of his ale and downing the contents. He let out a satisfying sigh and leaned back as he watched the others look over their payment.

[Assistant]
Edon Wolf
Broken Keg Tavern
Dalenham, Ethora

"I am not asking for handouts," Edon snapped after hearing Varian's jest. He narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw, taking a moment to calm down and collect his thoughts. It seemed like he had something more to say, however, instead he took a breath and let it out in a soft huff. He seemed to be considering his next action carefully.

"Thank you," he said, his voice formal. Edon was not a man to mumble his words nor was he without manners.

Having visibly come to a decision, he stepped around to one of the seats at the table and stiffly took a seat. Unless stopped, he would reach for one of the pouches of silver and slip it into a pocket without counting its contents.

[User]
Varian Sigmund - Dalenham, Ethora

Varian eyed Edon curiously as the man grabbed for the coins without checking for anything. He wondered briefly what his reasons for doing so were. Did he trust Varian and believe he was honest enough to split it wisely? Did he not want to seem to eager to do so in front of others and risk unwanted attention? Did he simply forget due to stupidity? It could have been any number of reasons. The man did not strike Varian as someone interested in the money. At least, not to the extent of being greedy. Soon enough Varian dropped the thought out of his mind. He shook his head, and took a few gulps of his Orbrigg Ale before slamming the goblet on the table, satisfyingly letting the aftertaste develop in his mouth.

As Varian prepared to speak, he was interrupted by a throat clearing from a short, stout man in front of him. The plump man wore a large, hooded black cloak, and although Varian was no connoisseur on clothing, he could tell it was crafted of luxurious material, perhaps silk. The man kept very well hidden that which he wore underneath, but Varian could have sworn he saw some sort of jewelry on his garb. No matter how well the man probably tried to hide it, he was evidently quite wealthy.

"Excuse me, but I do believe I overheard that you are in fact mercenaries, is that correct?"

Varian looked back at the others, and then turned to the man in the cloak. He put one arm over the back of his chair as he continued to gaze at him. "I suppose we are." Varian finally replied, much to the apparent joy of the cloaked man.

"Splendid!" He exclaimed, perhaps too loudly for which he intended, causing him to look around the tavern to make sure nobody else heard. After composing himself, he spoke again. "I am in desperate need of assistance, and I have no one else to turn to. My daughter has been taken by brigands. They took her north and are holed up north in a fort just outside of Curilan. I have sent others to try and release her, but none have returned. I implore you, please rescue my daughter!"

In Varian's eyes, the man seemed sincere. It was against his better judgment to usually go directly for the client instead of through contractors, but he seemed like he was distressed and in desperate need of assistance. But Varian knew the others might be tired from just accomplishing one mission, and might have liked to stay in the city for a few nights before going on another job. He disliked the notion of turning down a potential client, but the lives and well-being of his group would always take precedent over the client.

"Sorry, but we've only just returned from a job of our own, and we're tired. I'm sure you can find ano-" Varian was suddenly interrupted by the man in the cloak.

"How much did you earn on your last job?"

Varian looked at him curiously, bringing his mug up to his mouth and taking a gulp of the ale, and replied. "30 silver." The man was quick to respond.

"I will pay you 30 silver to each of you, and an additional 200 to be split amongst the survivors upon completion." He said, unflinchingly. Varian nearly spit out his drink from his mouth as he heard the offer. He place the mug down on the table and eyed the man suspiciously.

"Who are you exactly?" Varian questioned him. The man in the cloak looked around for a moment before replying. "I am... a reputable merchant wishing only to have my daughter returned to me."

"Most 'reputable merchants' don't mind sharing their name," Varian shot back.

"You'll forgive me if I don't share my name, but I came with the job offer under the intention of secrecy," The cloaked merchant explained. "Had I not wanted that, I would have chosen a more... direct way of getting my daughter back to me. This offer shall only come once. Either accept it, or do not."

Varian sighed and leaned back a bit further in his chair. He looked over the faces of the others.