[System]
Gender: M

Age: 26

Career/Class:Soldier / Ex-Soldier

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

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

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

[User]
"You damned stubborn woman!" He roared at her, advancing toward her until his face was inches from hers. The Skaven were merely a backdrop to the scene as he glared at Camilla. What the hell did she think she was doing? He should have expected this. She'd grown as obstinate and stubborn as he was. By the hammer, he was going to make sure the death of his friends wouldn't be completed by the death of his lover and closest companion. "I'm trying to save your life! You-"

She slapped him across the face as hard as she could. Even for someone as tough as Cyrdic, it sent a stinging pain that brought him back to his senses. "Non lo provi mai più, stupido stronzo!" she yelled at him, and then slapped him again multiple times and punched him in the gut for good measure. In fact she didn't seem to want to stop until Cyrdic dropped his weapon and grabbed at her hands, the two flailing a bit before he managed to hold onto her wrists and pressed her against the wall.

While they were having their pat, the Skaven were not idle. The slaves and clan rats had halted and idly poked the now bonfire that lay between them and their prey. Skaven were cowards, first and foremost. But the vile ratmen were oftentimes more afraid of their task masters than anything, and a few of them scrambled onto the blazing tree only to be consumed by the fire. The Grey Seer at the back chittered and squeek. "RatOgre! Quick-quick!" Meanwhile...

"Stop it! Stop!" He said, and she struggled for another few moments as he held her. They were both breathing heavily, sweat beading down their faces. Cyrdic shook his head, but Camilla could see he had hope and life return to him again. There was a fire in his eyes, and he looked at her as he always did. Like he was mad for loving someone like her, but he couldn't help it and did not want to.

They couldn't really speak more when the Skaven had found a solution to their little predicament, and a Rat Ogre crushed the front ranks of clan rats and leaped over the brazier-like obstacle to land in their small enclosure. If Cyrdic had been well, he might have been able to slay it himself at great risk. But even with his second wind, their chances of survival were slim to none...

[Assistant]
Camilla's heart thudded in terror as the great beast thundered across her improvised barrier. It burst from the burning pine tree trailing great tendrils of smoke. The shaggy tufts of fur coating it smouldered in stinking wispy patches. If the creature had been any more intelligent than a boulder it could have scattered the flames enough to let its smaller brethren through to finish the job but instead the wind of its passage merely fanned the flames to new and alarming heights.

There was no time to appreciate the reprieve though. A fist with knuckles the size of Reikland hams sailed over Camilla's head and smashed into the stone wall with a spray of dust and gravel. The quarters were too tight for her rapier so she pulled her dagger from her belt and another knife from her leather boot. With a shriek she drove one of the blades into the brutes upper tight, burying it to the hilt. The ogre didn't even slow, merely whirled around and snapped at her with a mouth full of foot long incisors.

Cydric's sword came down in an over handed slash which sliced six inches into the cable like tendons of the thins arm and it whirled away from the Tiean courtesan. Behind her spears lurched blindly through the flames, hurled by opportunistic skaven on the other side. Gripping the edge of her cloak see fanned the flames back towards the rats and was rewarded with inhuman screams as the flames caught several who had strayed too close. The stink of skaven musk and burning fur was indescribable.

With a prayer to Myrmidia Camilla leaped onto the things back driving a knife into the corded muscle around its shoulders. The ogre roared in irritation as Camilla clung to the knives using the weapons as improvised hand holds as she rode on the ogres back. It tried to smash her against the wall but she twisted acrobatically up onto the things shoulders. Rage burned inside of her, she wasn't going to give Cydric the satisfaction of being right about the need to flee!

[User]
Cyrdic ducked under a spear, while giving a riposte that bit into the Rat Ogre's bicep. He did very little damage with the strike though, and the Ostlander needed to help Camilla. The Tilean had survived worse, before. But he could tell she was taking risks she shouldn't. When was she going to get it in her head he didn't underestimate her? He remembered when they were in the Drakwald and she accused him of treating her like a doll. He didn't know why. This wasn't about her!

Cyrdic wasn't a man that was in tune with his emotions. He'd been a capable sergeant and he knew how to keep morale. He also felt as if he and Camilla had an uncommonly good relationship for two people who lived the hard life of a mercenary. But sometimes he couldn't understand her and it caused dangerous things, and dammit did he have bad habits because this was one of the things he liked about her.

"Camilla, now!" Cyrdic cried, and the woman knew just what he meant. Poised upon the Rat Ogre's massive shoulders, she flourished her dagger and stabbed it into the beast's collarbone, snarling as she did so. Cyrdic knew that anger was aimed at him. They would talk about it later, and the Rat Ogre reared upwards. Cyrdic didn't hesitate, and he rushed forward like the bull that represented his province. The next moment, his runic sword ran the Rat Ogre through, two feet deep.

Camilla vaulted off the mutant as it began to spasm in pain. The male mercenary ripped his sword out of the beast, but not before it flailed and struck him with the back of its fist. Cyrdic was too tired to dodge, and the strike sent him flying into the opposite wall of the small enclosure. Like a cannon ball, he tore through the mortar that had weakened from old age, sending crumbling bricks and stone.

With a bestial bellow, the Rat Ogre fell forward and vomited blood. It gave a futile attempt to hold in its spilling entrails, but the monster weakened by the second. A shriek was heard from past the fire; the Grey Seer howling at its bodyguard being slain.

[Assistant]
amilla felt her hackles begin to rise as the grey seer began to chant in his wirdly warbling squeak. The burning pines sank to almost nothing giving Camilla a momentary view of the horde of panicky skaven beyond and then sprang up with redoubled vigour. The fire began to flow into the visage of a monstrous rat like face, the flames themselves taking on an oddly green tinge.

Cydrics sword had drank sorcery in the past but this was no time to take chances. With a cry Camilla flung herself at Cydric. It almost backfired as the big Ostlander was nearly twice her meager mass but he was tired and off balance. With a staggering step they fell through the opening the rat ogre had smashed in the ancient masonry. For a heart stopping moment there was the sensation of free fall and then they plunged into a torrent of icy water.

The water swept them from the meagre light of the ensorcelled fire in seconds and they were plunged into darkness so complete that it woke purple phantoms in Camilla's eyes. She thrust herself above the water and gasped for air before the current sucked her back under again. Cydric was still close by and she caught him by what must have been a strap attached to his rent armor. A rocky mass slammed across her legs and she tried to yelp in pain, icy water filled her mouth for a terrifying instant before Cydric pulled her above the water level. She tried to curl herself into a ball as best she could weathering the occasional rocky blow in the pitch dark.

The cold itself sapped her energy, and she found herself fading into grey black haze periodically he flesh brushed against something that seemed to radiate warmth into her shivering body. The torrent grew slower, though not enough to allow movement or quiet enough to allow speech even if Camilla could have made her blue lips form words. With a shocking suddenness they burst into sunlight and the world fell away beneath them. Camilla tried to scream but no sound came from her lips as they plunged twenty feet and smashed into another body of water.

They had fallen from a waterfall Camilla realised as her eyes adjusted to the wan winter sunlight. Above her tumbled a waterfall which poured from a rent in the limestone, carrying an underground river towards the sea. A pool ringed on both sides by sandy if snow covered sand rippled beneath the thunder of the waterfall. Cydric, less hampered by the cold than she, pushed himself to his feet and half dragged half carried her to the shore, wading through the waist deep pool like a ferryman.

"Idiota," she murmured before the world narrowed into a black tunnel and then winked out.

[User]
Dear Eloise,
Inside the letter is a few coins and a recommendation by the office of Elector Count Gausser for your employment as a midwife and lady of the court to the Baroness Von Eisenbruke. It was the best I could do under such short circumstances, but it will give you a nice place to live and a fair wage. I am sorry but Karl was dead when we found him, but his spirit is now with Sigmar. I made sure of that. I wish you the best, but Camilla and I are now in the service of the Grand Barony of Nordland. We're traveling eastward, but don't trouble yourself with worry. You know how I am. I'll be fine. Sigmar and Taal watch over you, El.
-Cyrdic

---

The Ostlander's fist buried itself into the paunch of the soldier who'd tried to touch Camilla. Fat and balding, he wheezed and fell to his knees, sweat beading on him despite the cold wind whistling past the campsite. He knew full well Camilla could have probably taken him, but Cyrdic felt like letting off some steam. They'd traveled for a week through the wilderness before hearing word of mercenaries being hired out to the local baron for Norsca's raiding season. Unfortunately, the Baron and his levied forces were now close to a fortnight late themselves, and the mercenaries were growing restless and concerned. The camp was vast, almost a forest within a forest, with at least five hundred campfires dotted within the trees and rocks of the rendezvous. Those that weren't leaving were letting their urges get the better of them, be it violent or otherwise.

As usual, Camilla had received more than a few looks from the men in the vast camp. But Cyrdic beside her and how she carried herself had kept most at a distance until the past few days. This was the third man to try and grab her, and the fourth man to try and steal some coin along with her.

After Cyrdic felled the fat one, a few jeers and cries rose from the milling crowd, and a brawl in and of itself erupted among them. The ex-sergeant was shoved by a falling man, and nearly struck in the nose from a launched fist. He knocked the body aside and ducked the blow, hammering back with his elbow. The soldier collapsed forward, and Cyrdic caught him and tossed him to the side. If the mercenaries got closer they would have trampled over Camilla and Cyrdic's breakfast, but as it were, the brawl slowly drifted to other parts of the camp. Cyrdic stood over the man he'd struck, who was just getting to his senses. He definitely had the cut of a soldier.

"Where are you from?"

"Ostermark." The man coughed, spitting blood through his mustache. "4th halberdiers."

"Ostland, of the 8th." Cyrdic replied, reaching out to help the man up. The downed soldier eyed him for a moment, before accepting the offered help and getting to his feet. Cyrdic saw him look at Camilla, and then back at Cyrdic. The Ostlander could tell he was weighing several options. Some of them violent, and others more cordial depending. Cyrdic stared at him, and placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to flinch.

"Sigmar knows we have enough enemies already." Cyrdic said, and he gave a nod. The man nodded back, unable to not agree with the logic.


[System]
(Drawn by Black Death himself!)

Gender: Male

Race: Chalcionese

Age: 32

Personality: Marius is an incredibly brave and courageous warrior. He is also very cautious as well as peaceful, sociable, incapable of jealousy, quite openly humorous and easy-going, but yet considerate and aware of other people's needs.

Biography: Marius was born from a rich and noble family in Chalcidivia. His family managed to afford military training when he was at a young age, serving the mighty King Akakios. He was a very good soldier and was great a fighting with a whole variety of weapons. It was in there that he would meet Octavius and Prince Alexander, whom he befriended. His friendship with Octavius was selfless, as he wasn't bothered when Akakios named him the general of his army, whom he gladly accepted the title. He had then served his king well and made several successful campaigns.

Equipment: Marius's suit armor is made of iron and usually carries a fancy spear, a backup sword, and a dagger. He does occasionally carry a bow or more preferably a crossbow.

Skills: Marius is a powerful warrior and an expert on many weapons, including; Swords, Longswords, spears, daggers, bows, crossbows, etc.

Other: His family includes a wife and a son. He weighs 200 Ibs and is 6'2". His hair color is also light brown and his eyes are a hazel brown.

[User]
Inception

September 27th, 5000. It was night, and a blanket of darkness has already covered the land of Chalcion. One could see the vast expanse of green fields, stretching as far as the eye can see. These fields covered the central part of Chalcion, and were a place where wild animals like to congregate to eat and drink. However, most of the land's animals were sleeping, with only smaller nocturnal critters wandering about. These fields are also locations of burnt Chalcionese villages, which have fallen victim to the wrath of the Hadrianites. Houses turned to ash, smoldering burned hay, the corpses of domestic animals accidentally killed during the village burning, as well as dead people - all are testimony of the ruthless tyranny of Emperor Hadrian VII, a man of vice, who above all else desires dominance, authority, and power. He did not hesitate to hack down innocent villagers, who had never wronged him, only to rob them of their provisions. Since King Akakios boldly declined to be a vassal to such a tyrant, he paid a bitter price, but left all his hopes in the hands of one man that he trusted more than many others, since his son too was captured. This is all the cold, bitter and cruel truth of life: the strong prey on the weak, the weak cannot fight back.

The Chalcivitas knights have spent the year scouting around Central Chalcion and seeking aid up north and in the south. They made sure that most of the villages and minor cities of Chalcion were intact and unspoiled by the Hadrianites, but Chalcivitas was still surrounded. Its people were being interrogated, tormented, even slaughtered, in order to accept the dogma and the tyranny of Hadrian VII, or give information regarding Chalcionese commanders. Among those was the heir to the throne, Alexander, who was captured for interrogation and was being forced to submit his kingdom to Hadrian. Stubbornly, Alexander clung to what his father told him, not losing hope that eventually, the men of Chalcion will have rallied to become strong enough to drive the attackers out of their capital.

The Central Chalcionese soldiers were prepared to take back their capital once and for all, with determination, and some aid from cities that either withstood or didn't see the attack of the Hadrianites. Word spread of the genocide committed by the Hadrianites, at Chalcivitas, Fort Agaroth, Analima and Tentaclus especially, adding even more hatred toward the indiscriminate Hadrianite troops. They were currently stationed at a now cleansed Fort Agaroth, awaiting to rally up and march on Chalcivitas.
Octavius, the new leader of Chalcion's troops, was inside his tent in the camp just a few hours away from Chalcivitas, sitting by the entrance, smoking a pipe and looking out to the sky. He knew that he could delay no longer with a march on Chalcivitas, because retaking it would be very influential and may as well turn the tides of the war in Chalcion's favor. It would also mean freeing Alexander, if he was still alive. According to reliable messengers, Alexander still languished in Chalcivitas, which meant that he may yet be alive and that he could still be saved.
Octavius missed Alexander very much. More so because the two argued on the same day that Hadrian attacked Chalcivitas. He greatly wanted to see his brother again and take back the rash insults and ill words he said to him in anger, because now he was close, so close to losing him forever. He would not allow himself to let his family, or anyone else who were his countrymen to die cowering, afraid of the very air they breathe. He intended to summon up the courage of his men and make them more willing to fight for the freedom of their land.

[Assistant]
"Gods above, why are my legs so short? Go faster dammit!" Rozalia thought to herself angrily, brow furrowed in determination as she tore through the camp, arms pumping as her legs carried her as fast as they could go. Octavius needed to hear this information as soon as possible, but just as luck would have it, some bandits cut down her horse. Bastards. At the very least they wouldn't be bothering anyone else again, not if her swords had anything to say about it.
"Out of my way!" She practically bellowed at what she was certain was a superior officer as she barreled around the corner, wincing slightly at the angry yells from behind, but ignoring them anyway. There wasn't time. Lives could depend on this information.
After running full pelt for a good hour or so, she finally reached the commander's tent, in the centre of the camp. Legs trembling uncontrollably from the sudden stop, she approached the entrance, only to be pushed back by one of the soldiers positioned there.
"It's late, soldier. Why do you approach?" He began, looking down on this lower ranked woman with stern eyes.
"I have - information." She said between panting breaths. "And - I don't - give a damn - how late it is." She growled in response, momentarily forgetting herself - not that you could blame her. She was exhausted, having been at the city for a good few days, spying on the various different guard patrols in the city, practically running back without stopping, and was still suffering untended wounds from the run in she had had with the bandits. Cuts on the arms and side, they weren't particularly bad - unless you'd been sprinting a marathon with them, that was. Turning her gaze now to Octavius, still panting slightly, and blood still dribbling lazily from her light wounds, she stepped away from the guard. "It's in regards to the city, and the patrols. And your brother."

[User]
After taking one more puff out of his pipe, Octavius lowered his pipe back into an ashtray he had put inside his tent after he witnessed the young woman arriving to report something. Obviously she was travelling on foot, and hence, she was very tired. Moreover, she was lightly wounded in the process. It was her duty to scout about Chalcivitas and report about the position of the guards on the walls of Chalcivitas, which would aid in the reclaiming of the city the day after this one. It seems that she succeeded, but without her horse. Nevertheless, Octavius had no time to bother with such things, and he listened to what she was saying, after she spoke to a soldier who was on the night watch. She explained herself by speaking about the Hadrianite security in Chalcivitas and how it could be dealt with, but also news which interested Octavius more personally, regarding Alexander, his brother, fellow prince of Chalcion...
"Alexander?" the young commander asked: "Tell me everything you know."

[Assistant]
Pushing past the displeased guard, Roze saluted and bowed in front of her commander. This was the first time she'd even been close to Octavius, let alone talk to him. Although she had joined his troops ever since the beginning - ever since that bastard Hadrian had shown up with his masses of soldiers - she had never really expected to do anything worthwhile, other than kill as many of those motherless sons of whores that followed Hadrian as she could possibly manage, before wounds or exhaustion take her. And yet, here she was, talking to the Commander, with potentially game-changing information for their side. And, oh what information it was. It really paid off how she could pretty much disappear in the shadows.
"Commander. While spying in the city, I managed to overhear talk between the guards. They were being rather generous with spouting out information through boasting. After a few drinks, they'd pretty much spilled where the Prince was being kept. He's not in the prisons, like we first thought. Hadrian's keeping him in the palace – third floor." She began, beginning to regain her breathing as the adrenaline from the run died down slightly. Rozalia's legs practically screamed at her in pain, but she wasn't one to complain. Worse things could have happened to her.
"I was also able to mark down the guard patrols on the walls. The sewer entrance I used to come and go in is in a fairly deserted area – there's only four guards patrolling there, coming by every three hours; two for day, two for night. The idiots aren't even replaced for meal time." She added with a scoff, shaking her head slightly. Hadrian was being rather complacent with his win. It was as if he'd forgotten that an army led by Octavius himself lay just beyond the walls.

[User]
Flaming hope glimmered in Octavius' gaze, knowing where his brother is kept. Getting inside Chalcivitas itself via the sewer tunnel which Rozalia spoke of would mean that the Chalcionese knights had to perform an infantry assault, leaving their horses aside. This would demand a greater deal of stealth and light armor, so that they would not be so easily heard. With guard positions marked, they would have a clear idea of what pattern they would use to wipe out all the Hadrianites within the city walls. Octavius was more ready than ever to show Hadrian to assert a point: his armies were far from invincible. It has been proven thus far by the resistance shown to his attacks on the southern holds and Canonfire hold, to the north. Out of his own experience, and what Rozalia has told him just now, he learned that Hadrianites are truly devoid of any honor and that they did not value freedom of expression as a sacred right of every individual, if used well.

Rising to his feet, he could see that she was struggling to stay on her feet and that she was lightly wounded while making her return to Agaroth. With sympathy, Octavius responded to her: "I thank you for the trouble you have gone through to obtain this information. When we make the move to head to Chalcivitas, you will show us the carvings, but for now, go down to the medic's tent. You need to heal those wounds."
He then looked at the guard who was standing in front of the tent and said: "Guard, help this lady to the medic's tent. She is not at her strongest now."
"As you wish, general." the guard replied, then leading Rozalia to the tent where the wounded usually received proper treatment.
Pacing around his tent, Octavius decided that it would be best to speak to Marius, the other general of Chalcion's troops, about the possible methods of freeing Chalcivitas. He exited his tent and went to find general Marius' tent. Walking inside, he greeted him by laying a fist onto the right side of his chest: "General."

[Assistant]
Rozalia could hardly help herself, darting a triumphant grin at the disgruntled guard as he escorted her to the medic's tent.
"You watch yourself, girl. Just because you're quiet doesn't make you a good soldier. Nor does it mean you have the right to talk to your commanding officers as if they were underlings!" He gave her a slight shove in the back as he said that, stalking away as soon as the medic's tent was in sight.
"Bastard." She muttered under her breath, limping the rest of the way. "Back home, you would be my underling. Have you living in the mud like the pig you are..." The threats were quiet, and made completely in jest, but made her feel better anyway.
Thankfully, the tent was empty other than one of her more idiotic comrades that had shot himself in the foot with a crossbow, so she was seen to swiftly. In no time at all, she was bathed, bandaged, in a cot, and wolfing down a meal as she shared her stories of the city. After hearing she had returned, some of her 'co-workers' had paid a visit, bringing with them plenty of mead and questions. She'd been quite happy to oblige, the mead keeping her awake as her adrenaline eased off.
"Did you kill the bandits?"
"Did I kill the bandits? Of course I killed the bandits, you dog." She chuckled, after having recounted her more than eventful escape from the city. "I wasn't going to just let them walk away after they killed my horse and attacked me. It didn't help that they said they wanted my 'purse'... if you get what I mean." Her voice soured somewhat at that last comment. Honestly, even when it came to war and death, all some men could think of was their cock.
"What did you do then?" One of the soldiers asked.
"Well, they wanted my... equipment, shall we call it? So, I happily obliged and gave each of them one." She paused, smiling as she downed the remainder of her drink. "I did have to remove certain parts first though."

[User]
Inside the large red-and-white tent, Marius takes a quick sip of his cup of red wine. He sighs as he finishes, placing it down on his table. It had been a long day for he and the troops, but yet they are just steps away from retaking the capital. All they need to do now was quickly rest here, scout out the area, and put a successful plan in motion. He already had sent scouts to scout around the area and already it has been several hours since they left the camp. He was getting more and more anxious by the minute, not to the fact that he feared of losing, no, but in finally taking back their beloved capital. Yet in the midst of his thoughts, he remembers his most beautiful wife and his son, who are trapped within those very walls. It had been a long time since he had seen them and all the nightmares on losing them both haunted him through the days and weeks... lasting already for a little over a year. He and his army cannot afford to lose this important battle. As soon as he began to take another sip of wine, general Octavius came through the entrance of his tent and was kindly greeted by him. He always respected Octavius for his bravery as well as his skills in battle and honorable personality.

"Ah! Octavius my friend," he answers back with a friendly gaze as he raises his cup, ""Anything to report regarding the guard positions in Chalcivitas?"


[System]
Age: 24

Previous Occupation: Independent Contractor (Exotic Dancing)

Brief Personality/History: Elizabeth tends to have extreme shifts in her moods. Though often irritable, she can also be overly enthusiastic and happy. Most of the time she is impulsive and reckless; she doesn't think about the long term consequences of her actions so long as it makes her feel better in the moment. In her mind, the world revolves around her and the only other person she might love more than herself is her son. Unfortunately, she hasn't been able to see him as he lives elsewhere with his father.

Name: Tyler
Age: 35
Previous Occupation: Lawyer
Brief Personality/History: ???

Name: Ava
Age: 30
Previous Occupation: Secretary
Brief Personality/History: A quiet woman, she escaped the lobby with Elizabeth and Tyler in the office building when it all began. It wasn't long after she died a horrific death in front of Elizabeth, Erin, and Dallen that more than likely traumatized them.

[User]
Before Ethan could get them out, the soldiers who'd locked them up had come back for them. Elizabeth scowled at them and while she had many things she wanted to say to them, she kept quiet for the time being; she had a feeling their threat wasn't one to be taken lightly. The man appeared to be overly excited about the prospect of explaining this to them via visual aides to the point Elizabeth had to roll her eyes; he acted more like a child than Erin did. Afraid to move very far from her original spot, she could see that she took to standing close to Ethan. The girl was practically his shadow for now.

Disgusted as she looked over at Private Cole, he was exactly the type of person she'd always hated. She'd become accustomed to assholes like him whenever she was with her ex. He wasn't American. In fact, he'd been with the British Armed Forces. His four year enlistment contract had ended a months before they'd met. As difficult and tumultuous as their relationship had been, it was thanks to him and his teachings that she was able to survive right now—and she only hoped that he was out there keeping their son safe as well.

Elizabeth's mouth fell open at the revelation. Even with them telling her their motives behind everything, she still couldn't understand why it mattered so much to them. What did it matter that the President was shutting them down? Was this a matter of greed and job security? A bunch of elitist nationalistic assholes that just wanted to see the rest of the world destroyed for no other reason? This was evil. There was no other word to describe it.

Staring at the screen when Tyler's picture showed up, she tried not to show any emotion. Even though she hadn't liked the guy, he was a jerk, that didn't mean she wanted anything bad to happen to him. He'd helped even when he didn't have to, like when he'd gone with them to save Erin. She glanced down at the little girl who looked horrified to see the man's image on the screen. She remembered him too. The image changed to a picture of his corpse and Erin squeaked, covering her mouth and looking away. Elizabeth clinched her fist so tight that she could feel her fingernails digging into the palms of her hands.

"This whole thing is bullshit," Elizabeth finally snapped. "It's all pointless! You're just a bunch of power hungry egomaniacs on a power trip." Held back only by the pastor from doing something she'd regret, she glared at the General as he walked by her. Even if she didn't really know the person he'd picked, she'd never spoken to him before, Elizabeth was livid at the thought of anyone dying. "You son of a bitch-" she yelled, moving to lunge forward. The soldiers descended on them all as she kicked and thrashed against them, plunging her teeth into the soft spot on his hand as he forced her back into the small cage.

Even when the lights were off and they had been sitting in the dark calming down after what they'd just seen, she was still fuming. "We need to get the hell out of here," she said, even if she didn't need to.

"Lizzy," Erin said, her voice shaking. It was obvious she was scared, but what surprised Elizabeth more was what she said next. "Don't make them mad." She was worried that she might provoke them into doing something to her next.

She hadn't meant to scare her with her outburst. "I'm sorry, sweetie," she told her. "It's just...what they're doing is wrong. I couldn't stay quiet." Frowning with a grimace as she realized that probably wasn't a good apology, Erin was quiet as she seemed to contemplate what she'd said and take it to heart. She only hoped that the girl didn't hate her for speaking her mind—even if it meant she might get in trouble for it.

Not knowing how long it had been since their last visit, it was Private Cole who came back into the room this time with a couple other goons. One of the soldiers tapped on the cages, barking and mocking them as they passed by, before arriving at Elizabeth's cage. "This one," he said, a lecherous grin on his face that made her stomach churn.

"No," she stated, shirking back in her small cage, but they reached in to grab her by her feet and dragged her out. "No!" she yelled, trying to fight them off, but they were too strong. They dragged her through their comrade's blood streaking the floor and staining her clothes. Her desperate pleas for them to let her go echoed through the hallway until they'd finally had enough and, to make sure she was quiet, knocked her out.

[Assistant]
"Larson and Nelson. Or...you know, Nelson and Larson...?" Riley said with a sly grin.

 "What about...Larson and associates?"  Dallen replied, he couldn't hold his laugh in.

"Nelson and Larson it is," Riley said, ignoring everything Dallen had said.

The two of them were both in fine freshly tailored suits, looking into the blank office space they had just purchased to start their firm. It was not only the beginning of a successful lawfirm partnership, but it was the also the beginning of a great friendship. Dallen popped open the bottle of champagne and poured them both glasses.

"You think we'll make it?" Riley asked in a serious tone. He was confident in both of their abilities when it came to understanding justice and the legal system, yet nothing was ever certain.

 "I know we will,"  Dallen said and clinked glasses with him.  "We're survivors."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Present Day: Day 6

Dallen stared blankly as the general smashed his best friends face into the cold floor. His brains were scattered, pieces still left remaining in the room.

The room went dark again. Ethan immediately began working on his lockpick, while Dallen remained motonless, his eyes starting to tear. It felt to him as if the silence lasted forever, but then a click sound and a sigh from Ethan.

"I got it unlocked," he said, the kid was clearly good at thievery. "Lets get the fuck outta here!"

"No, they're watching the hallway and that's the only way out," Briggs said. "We have to wait until the timing is right, when there's less of them. We have to be quiet."

"What?" Blake spoke up from his cell. "What if the timing is never right? What if they kill us all like that, one by one. Someone new tomorrow, I don't wanna go out like that! I mean, what have we got to lose?"

 "Blake, you got Lucy and Gwen killed,"  Dallen stated.  "If we get out of this, I'm going to kill you."

Blake immediately became silent.

 "Briggs is right, we wait."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Day 7

None of them slept well. Dallen dozed off for a moment or two, but to him it felt like he was awake the entire night. All he could think about was his daughter, and how he had failed her. Her voice rang into his head over and over again, her cries from when she was shot. His thoughts started to overlap reality for him. Dallen looked out onto the cold, dark floor and saw his daughter's dead corpse lying next to the bits and pieces of Riley's skull that still remained in the room. They were both dead, yet she still stood before him as if she were still alive. He wiped his eyes and smacked his head, and when he looked back toward her, she was gone. Was this even a reality anymore? Steven had thrown up in his cell, and that smell mixed with the flesh of Riley brought a reeking disgustful taste in his mouth.

Suddenly the lights flashed back on and the military rouges came back into the room. This time there were only three of them, led by private Cole. He quickly picked Elizabeth and they took her out of sight and down the hall. Dallen gave Ethan a nod and he quickly went back to work at opening the locks.

.....

Private Cole was the type of man who always wanted to do whatever he wanted, and this was finally his opportunity. Only a week in to the apocalypse and he was already planning on ruling others. His wife had left him several months ago, his sons hated him. All he knew was to take what he wanted, and forget everything else. At this moment, he wanted Elizabeth.

"Watch the halls until I'm done," Cole told the men with him, he was holding an unconscious Elizabeth over his shoulder.

"What about us?" one of them asked.

"What about you?" Cole said, his tone quickly intimidated the others. Cole had a reputation for cruelty, even in the military. "Watch the halls until I'm done, that's a mother fucking order soldier!"

"Yes, sir."

Private Cole went into the next room. There were large generators making enough noise to mask the surrounding area. He set Elizabeth down on the cold flooring and started to removed his shirt.

........

With the cages open, the seven of them quickly made their ways to the exit, leading to the hall. Dallen grabbed one of Ethan's lockpick's firm into a fist, nodding his head that he was ready. Briggs gave a nod back, knowing that none of them had much else for a choice. The door swung open and Dallen rushed out, he tackled the nearest soldier and stuck the pick as far deep into the man's throat as he could manage. The dying man gurgled on his own blood as Dallen kept prying the pick deeper, while also holding his dead weight and dropping him to the floor. It was the first person Dallen had ever killed, and yet it came so naturally. It was all about survival now. Briggs picked up the man's shotgun, giving Dallen his handgun. Kenjen got the knife stored in the dead man's boot.

"Why don't I get a weapon!?" Leroy Book whispered. "I'm a man of God, but I know how to shoot mother fuckers. I wasn't always a pastor, you know." Kenjen gave the pastor his tactical knife. "My man."

Briggs peered down the next hall, pointing up two fingers to let them know there were two enemies. With a quick sigh, Briggs turned the corner and opened fire. A few rapid shots from the shotgun easily mowed the soldiers down.

The sound was masked from the large generator noise, except private Cole heard everything. The private turned toward and away from an awaking Elizabeth, his knife holstered at his belt and his gun aimed at the door.

"What the fuck was that?" Cole shouted.

"We need him alive" Kenjen said, speaking softly to the others. They had the door surrounded, ready to burst in and save Elizabeth. "He can get us out of here."

Private Cole fired a few shots through the door to keep them back. For the moment he forgot about Elizabeth, as his back was turned to her.

Erin came peeking around the corner, her curious eyes watching the hallway stalemate. Dallen held his hand up to halt the others from entering, not sure if Elizabeth was dead or alive.

[User]
It was hard to focus on whatever was happening around her with the overwhelming splitting headache she felt at first. Feeling the pressure of something pressing down on top of her, she groaned as she tried to fight through the cloudy haze fogging her mind to shove the weight away. There was resistance as she could barely make out a voice. The weight suddenly lifting, Elizabeth caressed her throbbing head with one hand while struggling to sit up. She could feel the blood dried on the side of her face. Vision slowly starting to focus, she became more aware of her surroundings almost wishing that she hadn't when she saw the disheveled state of both her and the man in front of her.

Not wanting to think about what might have happened while she was unconscious or what would have happened if the conflict in the hall hadn't momentarily distracted Private Cole, Elizabeth couldn't help where her mind wandered and found herself fueled by a careless rage. The woman yelled, shrieking as she managed to pick herself off the ground and charged directly towards him, her fingernails digging into his flesh so deep and tearing his skin as she dragged them down. He yelled, slinging her off of him and throwing her against the wall like a ragdoll followed by a misogynistic string of profanity. In his arrogance he ignored Elizabeth's presence, even when she threatened him by saying, "I'm going to kill you," and tried to examine the injuries she'd left on his shoulders dragging down his back.

His underestimation of her working in her favor, it gave Elizabeth the precious few seconds she needed for her gaze to survey her surroundings. Eyes landing on a long blunt object in the corner, she ran to pick it up. Private Cole aimed the gun at her commanding that she put it down. Taking the risk of getting shot, a decision he hadn't expected her to make, he fired at the last second and clipped her shoulder. The adrenaline numbing the pain for now, she managed to take the swing and hit him in the jaw causing a dent in the metal. Both of them dropping their weapons on impact, they clattered against the floor. Both of them went scrambling for the gun at the same time.

Hearing the scuffle on the other side of the door, Erin closed an eye trying to peak through one of the holes left by one of the bullets. She could see Elizabeth and Private Cole on the floor. Though the woman was putting up a fight, the man was stronger and managed to pin her down beneath him. "Hurry!" she yelled to the others with a frantic wave to usher them on. "Lizzy, we're coming!"

The sound of Erin's voice catching her attention, Elizabeth's gaze flickered towards the door. Her defense down for a few brief seconds, he took advantage of this to overpower her. Feeling his strong hands grip around her neck, she tried to pry his hands away and gasp for air that wasn't coming. There was a panic in her eyes as she thought for a moment his sinister face snarling down at her would be the last thing she ever saw.

Suddenly able to gasp for air in her burning lungs, she coughed as she rolled over onto her side. Erin knelt beside her, hugging her in her arms. It looked like she was about to cry. Elizabeth hadn't seen what happened, but she noticed the splintered broken door and the others in the room squaring off against Private Cole. Lifting a shaking arm, she enveloped Erin in her arms. "It's okay," she said, her voice wavering slightly. She could see the doubt and concern on Erin's face and she wondered if lying to her was the best thing—because nothing was okay anymore.


[System]
Age: 700
Appearance: Yellow eyes, nearly white skin, long back hair.

World of Origin: Blood Compact/Hell's Coffee Lounge

Personality:

Distantly loving and peaceful. Lonely. Highly values 'family.' Loyal to a fault. Clings to morality but certainly walks the line. He has to drink blood and this of course causes moral conflict. He is protective of those who cannot defend themselves, particularly humans who usually get the short end of the deal with vampires. Although he is actually very pretty to look at, he knows he doesn't look human and more often terrifies mortals.

History:

Mithias was oblivious in his own world, fighting the eternal war between vampires and humans with the goal of establishing and maintaining balance between them. Some might say he was merely perpetuating the war itself and delaying the true peace that would come from one side gaining final victory. He had been at rest in his father's house when he awoke to find himself in a completely different environment with Lydia. he knew he had enemies on both sides but he never suspected...

Long ago he had been a Templar Knight, one of the last, and watched as all of humanity seemed to revolt against itself as the Inquisition hit. He owes the one that turned him, the one who in essence freed him from such mortal concerns and allowed him to save his former wife and child. Mithias has ever since been vigilant against corruption whenever an organization grows too big and powerful. He rejects blind faith. He entertained himself with protecting his descendants from the shadows for many generations, and since has become considerate of all humans, retaining a sense of kinship with them.

Eventually humans developed sufficient technology to potentially destroy the masquerade and threaten vampires directly and war broke out. One insane oldblood vampire named Magnus rose up to unite the vampires and take over, but he failed. Mithias had joined the resistance and had a hand in creating the "Soldier" organization which maintained the peace post-war. But the battle never truly ends.

Vampires:

Each bloodline has unique attributes. Mithias is harmed by Christian/Jewish holy things, but that's not always true with other vampires. He's ok with silver and can endure sun, but the light does dampen his senses and slow him down. He can heal rapidly and recover from injuries that would be lethal to a living creature. He doesn't technically need to breathe to survive, but he would probably pass out without oxygen eventually. Blood fuels his strength, power, healing, speed, enhanced senses. If you pierce his heart, he'll "die" but he might heal back and rise up again once you remove the object from his heart. You'd have to also chop off his head and/or burn his body to prevent that.

Abilities:

Mithias' mainstay defining ability is his complete control of his own mind. He cannot be spoken to telepathically, affected by illusions, mentally controlled, emotionally manipulated, or have his mind read in any way by any supernatural being. His mind is stealthed on the psyonic radar, a black void. In shielding himself this way, he has also negated his own ability to telepathically read others.

Mithias has some limited psychic control over heat. Think firestarter, pyrokinesis, but he can also remove heat from a substance. This power requires willpower and focus, and the amount he can do with it depends on how much focus and intent he can muster. He is easily capable of putting out a candle from across the room. He could potentially walk through a burning building without being burned, depending on how much of an inferno it is in there. He could suddenly redirect a flame thrower's fire to save his or another's life, melt a computer's motherboard, light his swords on fire to fight, generate light with a flame in his palm, ignite something flammable nearby, keep a person warm in a cold environment. He's not going to be able to stop an explosion, because it occurs too fast, but maybe he could shield off some of the heat from it if he's that close. Mithias could potentially be capable of creating a fireball or wings made of flame if he's extremely motivated and has fed recently enough.

Other: Mithias is fast and strong, but not as strong as a lot of other vampires. His bloodline is big on mental abilities and less physical. That being said, he has mastered dual-wielding swords and can fight using technique and speed mostly.

[User]
Resident Evil Verse- Compound
Mentioned: @VitaVitaAR @Raineh Daze @PKMNB0Y

---

You really think we're going to keep money on hand in the middle of an apocalyptic crisis? Where would we keep it in the first place? And why would we keep it instead of using the area to store something more practical?

Sol narrowed his eyes at the girl and her whining. "Shit, if I knew you were gonna whine about it…I'm not your accountant, how am I supposed to know?"

Claire then coldly turned to regard the other heroes, leaving Sol hanging on the deal. The mercenary stared at her speechlessly.

Did she just ignore me? he wondered.

Goldilocks (you have been nicknamed) then laughed at him in a rather condescending manner.

The entire reason we're here is to help with things like this, Goldibanne thinks it's awfully rude to demand money~

Sol cocked his lip dismissively at the weird doll girl. "If it bothers you girl, then how 'bout you mind your damn business? I never said I was a nice guy. I am Sol Bad Guy. It's in my last name."

Figuring that he wasn't going to get cash out of the mission, he tilted his head to the side and an irritable hiss escaped from between his teeth. "Shit…all right. I'll help you with your problem, but I'm calling this a loan. I'll be charging interest until you pay me back. A big tough guy like me has to eat and I got my own bills to pay."

Claire then was on the phone and Sol eavesdropped on her conversation. It was something about an armed and crazy son of a gun.

Should we look into it, or do you want to deal with it? You can deal with the infected fine, but I'm not sure how well you can handle a possibly-crazed armed lunatic…

"That's basically what I am, so I don't see how dealing with another one would be that big of a deal."

When doll girl chimed in: Goldibanne can solve that problem…

Sol peered over his shoulder to watch her twirl and dance away. "It's better she goes. I would have just added psycho to your tab." (talking to Claire)

[Assistant]
Akuma, Supreme Master of the Fist
- 13th Hierarchical City of Kagutsuchi

The black-haired man -Kagura Mutsuki, his name was- accepted their assistance, on the condition that they refrain from slaying his opponent. While Akuma found the request questionable, given the circumstances, he would have to wait until after the battle for an explanation. Now, the three of them were currently clustered together, all facing their opponent. Unless they were to re-position themselves, his companions would only serve to get in the way. Thus, Akuma did the sensible thing.

The martial artist widened his stance briefly, causing a roiling crimson aura to envelope his body. Akuma then raised a single knee, and the aura vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Ignoring all common understandings of locomotion, the warrior's body suddenly surged forward whilst remaining motionless. At first, it seemed as if Akuma intended to ram into the red-haired girl, only for something entirely different to occur. The technique had rendered his body intangible, resulting in the martial artist simply going through his opponent.

Once he was behind his opponent, Akuma became corporeal once more. With not a moment's delay, the warrior aimed a low roundhouse kick at the girl, intending to strike the back of her knee. A simple, albeit effective strike, capable of unbalancing most foes.

[User]
One of the two guards stepped closer with his flashlight. Mithias could easily hear the conversation on the radio in his hand. He walked past the pile of weapons and told his friend to check them out while he dealt with the newcomer. Shining the light on Mithias, he immediately jumped when he saw the skin color, the eye color... Keeping his gun ready and putting on a brave facade, he spoke, "Sir. I don't know why you look like that, but to me, you look infected. Now I don't know what's going on with you, and why you'd be able to talk, but I can not let you into this compound if you're a risk for us. You make one sudden move, and I'll be forced to shoot ya."

Mithias blinked. "It's alright. I don't need entry into your compound. I only request an exchange of information. You humans have to do what you have to do, and I understand that."

The guard swallowed. This guy just admitted to not being human.

Mithias continued unphased. "Who is in charge of this place?"

The other guard commented on the pile the stranger had brought. "Jesus." It was a nice stash. Ammunition was precious. Of course, he had heard what was being said by the other two and promptly interrupted them. "Now hold on." He walked over as well with an authoritative stance. "... Sir, I'm afraid we don't know you and don't exactly want you to know everything about us. We've got questions for you too."

Mithias saw how his arms twitched, the way he was holding his weapons, and like an old knight, he knew this opponent was getting ready to pull something.

"Now get on the ground. Now. I'll tell you when you can move."

Brows furrowed. This was going a little too far. Mithias wasn't prepared to reduce himself to helplessness and hissed under his breath. The street was open and windswept behind him in the darkness, pavement glimmering like seawater in starlight. Disappointed, he slowly began to turn away.

"I said don't move!"

A shot rang out, and Mithias dropped to the ground.

"Ted! The fuck you doin?" The one guard thought Ted had overreacted.

"Shut it. You want him bringing more?" Ted replied scathingly.

Gun ready, Ted approached the still and lifeless form of Mithias. It was the last thing he did.

----

Claire's radio chirped back at the compound. "We need backup! Ted's a gonner!" A frantic voice was heard as the other guard retreated back behind the gate.

[Assistant]
----------------------------------------
The 13th Hierarchical City of Kagutsuchi - Hanging Gardens
----------------------------------------

The man, who introduced himself as Kagura Mutsuki, accepted the situation he was faced and agreed to Alex and Akuma fighting on his side.

The redhead enemy dashed forward for a quick slash at Kagura's neck. Kagura responded by pulling his sword from the ground and kicking it upward, parrying the woman's attack. Meanwhile, Akuma raised a leg and, to Alex's understanding, shifted his position by passing through the woman all the while holding that particular posture. The virus figured that move somehow made Akuma incorporeal until he let go of the pose. A phenomenon that defied multiple laws of physics. Akuma's next move was a roundhouse kick at the back of the redhead's knee.

With two fighters on the woman's face, Alex stood in his place motionlessly so as not to get in the way and patiently watched how the fight would turn out. He would prefer if he did not have to fight so he would have reserve energy for the next battle they would inevitably have as they hunted for these 'distortions'.

[User]
Orient Town

"Why is this happening to me?!" The plaintive cries of a rather distressed Tailred rang out as she repeatedly dodged this way and that. Given that she was in an enclosed space with quite a few rubble and didn't want to use her sword on the quite frankly in-the-right if somewhat overeager catgirl, Taokaka got quite a few hits in with her claws. Strangely enough though, the costume didn't get ripped to shreds where the claws had hit but caused sparks to fly about, much like how action worked in certain sentai shows. "Guh..." Still, the hits had HURT. Stumbling backwards with a huge grimace on her face and clutching the areas hit, the magical girl responded in kind. "Tailred Emergency Technique!" Blurting that out, the girl focused so that her twintails lit on fire before venting off hot air through the hair ornaments to perform what was essentially a fancy augmented headbutt.

[Assistant]
Before Ted could physical react, Mithias pounced up from underneath him. Ted was grabbed under his jaw and lifted off the ground by a clawed hand as if he were a bale of hay. His rifle was swiftly torn out of his hands, leaving him defenseless in shock. As he looked down, the color drained from his skin. The face of the devil himself glared up at him with glowing red eyes and fangs like a mad dog. The sight sent the only other guard sprinting back into the compound.

Mithias could have eaten him. He wanted to, but of course, another part of him didn't want to, crying 'not yet' to his darker half. Patiently, it stayed, agreeing to abide, for now, on the agreement that a promise had been made. Dealing with his nature was like a continual negotiation. Mithias would give in later. He promised. But for any vampire, there was only so long he could sustain denial.

Mithias tossed Ted's gun to the ground, rather than crushing it in his hand, which he could have done, and set down the trembling guard. Humans couldn't be blamed for their reactions. Mithias didn't hate them, and he didn't intend to control them, but he was lonely. And the fact that humans in this world faced potential extinction gave him much grief. Was there any hope of helping them, being what he was?

The bullet wound in his back had already healed when Mithias looked up to see the others arriving on scene. He was surprised to see other, non-human beings were here, apparently aiding the humans in some way. he glared warily, hope tethering his feet to the ground as he half expected more ignorant bullets to come flying his direction.


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

APPEARANCE

Portrayed By: Angelina Jolie with a slight Russian accent
Hair Color: Dark, Auburn-Brown
Eye Color: Luminous Yellow-Green
Skin Tone: Porcelain Pale
Height: 5' 11"
Weight: 119 lbs
Body Build: Tall and Slender

Wing-Cloak

Natural Elven Attire (with and without wings)

Battle Outfit

PERSONALITY

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

Overall Personality:
Mysterious | Regal | Soft-Spoken | Larger Than Life | Elegant | Compassionate | Unpredictably Vicious

Everyone believed Saeril to be born a creature of chaos and pure evil, but they just do not know the true story. Rather than a woman who is evil, Saeril was instead a benevolent young woman of purity; she valued the peaceful nature on Middle-Earth, and she had a fierce passion of guarding various realms and its inhabitants. As a fierce protector, Saeril is a desired perfectionist, and a woman of her word; due to the despair and sorrow of even the most vulnerable of races, she focuses on finding the best intentions for them, even if it means to risk her life. As she suffers from a devastating past that involved the Deceiver's corruption upon her mind, Saeril is truly hurt and very lonely inside, interpreted by her amnesiac guilt for her crimes. Her ultimate goal was to redeem herself and dissipate her inner darkness.

However, she never anticipated this goal to be changed when she rekindled herself with her Dwarven godsons, Fili and Kili; she grew to care for them as a motherly figure, forming an adopted-parental bond with them. Despite herself being closest to the youngest, Kili, Saeril was devastated after witnessing Azog kill the eldest brother, causing her to scream in agony and grief. Determined to keep the youngest from falling into the same fate, she became strictly protective of Kili. As his blessed godparent, Saeril would do anything to keep him alive, and as a result, she went with him in many ventures, though she did not always agree with them. Regarding him, her bond with Kili was very strong, therefore her main goal was to keep him safe.

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

BACKGROUND

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

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

[User] The fae made a protesting cry as the arrow hit Kili in the leg. That's what shocked her to the brink of her bones. How dare they hurt the one that she looked after! This wasn't the first time she has seen her godsons in danger, and she hoped that misguiding the arrow would make minimal damage. But these shafts were much different than that of a typical arrow. "Mahal", Maleficent whispered as she watched the barrels finally drift away and down another waterfall. With her instincts, she followed them by taking flight once again.

[Assistant]
Mel drew up short as they reached the border, firing one last arrow at an Orc in frustration. Now the Orcs had gotten away too. Thranduil would not be pleased to hear this news from them, she could only hope that the fae would keep her promise...and forgive her for shooting the dwarf. Now that she thought about it, it probably wasn't a smart thing to do without warning Maleficent of her intentions first, but it wasn't like she had had much time...sighing, she turned to head back and finish off the Orcs that had stayed behind that were still attacking the other elves, looking around worriedly for Legolas though she couldn't see her cousin anywhere.

Tauriel had joined the fight just as the dwarves had escaped down river, though her main focus was making sure she stayed close to Legolas. They always fought well together and looked out for each other. Seeing an orc archer aiming to shoot at him while his attention was distracted watching the dwarves, Tauriel quickly intercepted the arrow with one of her own, pulling her knives out she went to slit the creature's throat.

[User] "Tauriel, dartho!", Legolas managed to stop her before she could go any further. "This one we keep alive", he told her in the Silvan tongue, knowin bt that they must know just why Orcs had to attack her boders, and why they were after the dwarves.

[Assistant]
Tauriel nodded slightly and kept the knife held to the Orc's throat, to keep it in line.
"The dwarves are gone!" Mel called ahead to them as she jogged up to join them. "The current is too strong, they will be at the end of the river before we can catch them."

[User]
Legolas heard the cry of his cousin, and looked down the river's path, watching the barrels dissapear in the distance around the corner. "Mel", he suddenly said to her. "Tell my father that we have a prisoner, and that its information may be useful for us", he said to her.

As the company continued to float down the river in their barrels, there was a peaceful movement in the water, so they could just drift down slowly. "Anything behind us?", Thorin called to Balin, who was near the back. "Not that I can see" "I think we've outrun the Orcs" "Not for long, we've lost the current", he told them as they continued to drift with Maleficent standing halfway in the water, so she could help move the barrels. She worried for Kili after he was shot, and he could probably be mortally injured. This worried her badly, like how a mother would be, and she's internally surprised that she's getting this feeling. Maybe a true bond was visible between them after all.

[Assistant]
Mel nodded her head and turned to go back towards the palace, though she had only taken a few steps before she stopped again to look over her shoulder at them. "The two of you aren't going to do something foolish, are you?"

"Whatever would make you think that?" Tauriel protested indignantly. "Of course not! We will be right behind you."

"Let's keep moving, we can't stop!" Thorin called to the others as he pushed his barrel to the shore, letting Maleficent help him out of the barrel as with his clothes soaked through he didn't have enough strength, as exhausted as he was, to do it alone. He then helped the fae to get the others onto the shore as well.

Kili could only take a few steps once he was on the shore before his leg collapsed underneath him, he groaned loudly in pain and put his hand on the wound, as if it would help, gritting his teeth together.

[User] Maleficent was helping the dwarves get out of their barrels until she herself managed to step onto dry land, her wings folding behind her back and miraculously turning into her black cloak, as it drapes over her catsuit. She heard groaning from ahead of her, and noticed Kili still in pain from the arrow shot, and his wound looks to be beyond healing. Managing to reach him, she kneeled at his side and hurriedly tore a piece of her black cloak, using it to tame the huge bleeding cut. "Shh...", she softly told him as she put a little bit of pressure to stop the bleeding. "Let me", the fae said to him. "I promised Gandalf I would protect this group. Now, I made a huge mistake", she added before putting a little more pressure. "I'm sorry", she apologized if it was giving him too much pain.

[Assistant]
Kili tried to shake his head weakly in protest but the wound hurt so much that he was grateful for the help.

"We keep moving!" Thorin growled sharply.
"Kili's wounded!" Filing protested loudly. "His leg needs binding!"
"Then bind his leg, quickly, you have two minutes." the dwarf Prince snapped back.

[User] "Where do we go?", Balin asked Thorin. "To the mountain, we're so close", Bilbo intervened as he was damp from being in the Rapids. "A lake lies between us and that mountain, we have no way to cross it" "So then we go around" "The Orcs will run us down as sure as daylight. We've no weapons to defend ourselves", Dwalin firmly told the Hobbit before Maleficent made a sigh and moved for Fili to bind his brother's leg. She stayed close to them, helping Kili cope through the pain. Sure, he may be stubborn enough, but it was amusing that he had the eagerness of being constantly reckless.

[Assistant]
Fili crouched down and used the material Maleficent had been dabbling at the wound with to tie it off tightly to stop the bleeding. Kili gritted his teeth in pain and held on tightly to Maleficent's hand, grateful that she was there.

Meanwhile, Tauriel and Mel went with Legolas back to the underground halls, with the Orc in tow, so Thranduil could interrogate it.

[User]
Maleficent stayed by them and let Kili hold onto her if he needed to. This was the first time that the young dwarf actually needed her support with physical touch, and the fae was happy of this. He trusted her.

As Ori was getting rid of the water in his boots, a bowman came up from behind, and was ready to shoot. As he does so, Dwalin intervenes and the arrow hits the piece of wood in his hand. Another was shot, but was miraculously stopped by the fae's dagger. "Do it again and you're dead", the mystery figure warned them as he continued to point his arrow at them.

[Assistant] Balin walked forward with his hands up in surrender, realising that the man must be one of the Lakemen. "Excuse me, but...you're from Laketown, aren't you?" He peered behind the man and saw the large boat floating tethered there. "That barge over there, you wouldn't happen to have it available for hire?"

[User] At the barge, the mystery man begins putting the empty barrels onto the barge. The company followed and were clearly stripped of protection. Consequently, the fae stayed close to the twins since they were now defenseless. "What makes you think I would help you?", the man asked them in annoyance.

[Assistant]
"Those shoes have seen better days, and that coat." Balin observed, moving to stand near the man. "I'm sure you have a few hungry mouths to feed, too. How many bairns?" He asked the man, hoping his assumption was right and he did indeed have children or this could be difficult if they offended him. Thankfully Balin was right and the man answered him as he kept loading the barrels onto the barge.

"A boy and two girls."
"And your wife?" continued Balin confidently. "I imagine she's a beauty!"
The man went quiet as he nodded sadly.
"She was..."
Balin blinked and quickly stumbled over his words to apologise.
"O-oh...I-I'm sorry...I didn't mean to..."

[User] "Oh, come on, come on. Enough with the niceties", Dwalin groaned in disgust, which made Maleficent roll her eyes with her eyes closing. "What's your hurry?" "What's it to you?" "I would like to know who you are, and what you were doing in these lands", the man demanded of them asa he was preparing to take off. Maleficent kept her cloak on, but removed her black headress, letting her hair flow loose.

[Assistant]
"What's it to you?!" Dwalin demanded defensively. The Laketown man picked at a dent in one of the barrels where the wood had started to peel away.
"I know where these barrels came from." he stated seriously.
"...what of it?" asked Thorin uneasily, suddenly feeling wary of asking this man for help. What if he just turned them back over to the Elves?
"I don't know what business you had with the Elves, but I don't think it ended well." The man continued as he untied the boat. "All of the Master's trade comes from the Woodland Realm, he would see you in irons before risking the wrath of King Thranduil."

"Offer him more!" muttered Thorin to Balin in frustration under his breath. They needed to get across the Lake and this was the only way, or the Orcs would catch them and finish what they had started.

[User]
"I'll wager there are ways to enter that town unseen", Balin suggested as to try and perk up this man's interest. "Aye. But for that you would need a smuggler" "For which we would pay double", that seemed to have worked as it did indeed take up the score to get across the lake.

Back in Mirkwood, Legolas held the orc at knifepoint while holding him on his knees. "You were tracking the company of thirteen dwarves. Why?!", the prince demanded.


[System]
Geppeto
Age
29

Gender
Female

Physical appearance
Carrie is quite tall, standing at about 5'9", with a lean, muscular build and tanned skin. Her mouth seems permanently fixed into a smug smirk, as though she is in on a joke that no-one else is, an expression that contrasts unnervingly with her pale green eyes, which seem to show no expression whatsoever, completely cold. She has long blond hair, tied back into a ponytail for the sake of convenience. She has a tattoo on her right arm and shoulder, an intricate maze of celtic designs, which is the first thing most people notice about her. Her appearance, and the way she carries herself, tend to put people on guard before they know her, and often even more so after they do.

Personality
Carrie gives off the appearance of being an optimist, cheerfulness seeming only slightly dampened by her time in the ORB. This makes it fairly easy for her to befriend certain types of people, and makes her completely unbearable to others. She is supportive of others, kind, friendly, and appears on all accounts to be the type that would never hurt a fly, who would scream and run at even a hint of violence.
The optimism, however, hides another person entirely, one that is revealed once conflict emerges, or especially when she has the opportunity to take down anyone who is associated with the government. In these situations, she reveals herself as sadistic, brutal and incredibly creative in her infliction of violence. If one of her friends is hurt, she reacts to the prospect of getting a shot at them with almost childlike glee, laughing even as she sends them to their graves.

Biography/Background History
Carrie was born in a small town on the West Coast, and lived with her parents as an only child. She went to a small school, had a small group of friends, and lived a fairly idyllic life overall. At least, she did until she left to go to college in Washington D.C. Things were alright then, for a while, but she found herself overwhelmed by her studies, and dropped out after her first year. Desperate for meaning, she found herself slowly becoming involved in criminal activity.
She became more and more involved, gradually, and was caught up in a few violent incidents. These escalated time after time, until finally she became caught up in a drug deal and found herself out of her depth. As the deal was carried out, she became more and more on edge, noticing suspicious actions and movements by the other party, but didn't act on it or say anything, blaming it on nerves. She immediately regretted that decision when she walked out, everything seemingly having gone to plan, and found herself on the wrong end of a Taser barb and 6 years in prison.
In prison, she was constantly afraid, and rightly so. She was surrounded by people who were far, far more dangerous than her. Eventually, as was inevitable, she found herself in a confrontation, and as she was slammed into the wall by hands far stronger than hers, and a makeshift glass knife slashed across her arm, something snapped inside her, and she found herself wielding her power in a way that felt natural to her and leaving her attacker screaming on the ground even as she took the knife from their twitching hands and shoved it into their throat. She felt invincible as the guards approached her, and left several on the ground, dead or wishing they were. She continued her rampage, leaving guard after guard on the ground until she was caught by surprise by a bullet to her shoulder that sent her spiralling to the ground. She fell unconscious, and when she woke up, she was in the ORB.

Powers
Carrie's power is that of illusions. She can create illusions that fool others senses - from bringing their worst nightmares to life to an illusion of complete and utter agony, she can fool even their sense of touch, causing them to feel phantom injuries and pain where none exists. To cause an illusion of touch, she needs to make contact with the person, although once she has, she doesn't need to keep contact to maintain the illusion. Other senses she can manipulate from a distance.

Weaknesses
Her illusions become less convincing the more she creates at once, and with distance created between her and them. Additionally, she finds certain senses harder to simulate. She has to make physical contact with someone to begin an illusion of touch such as pain, but she can simulate sight from much further away. She also suffers from intense nightmares due to her powers, which turn the horrors she creates against her and have lead to her avoiding sleep whenever possible which affects her skills and judgement.

Miscellaneous Information
She is a talented pianist. She also loves cooking, but isn't very good at it.

[User]
Li Min

Min ran a critical eye over the situation in front of her before shrugging. "I will." She volunteered, mind already at work creating a battle plan. With her skills, she could easily acquire a gun, and that and her power would see her through safely. She did a few stretches in preparation, then waited to see what happened next.

[Assistant]
Lloyd Washterson

As Lloyd noticed a volunteer, he quickly placed his attention to the woman who took the first turn, giving a delicate yet convinced grin. Behind, one of the men handed him yet another device. This time it looked more of a wristwatch. Once he took it, Lloyd hurled the object towards the woman, expecting to unerringly grab hold of it.

"Kindly attach that to your wrist so that you'll be connected to the simulation. I'll be pressing the button of this remote I'm holding so that your presence will start manifesting on the scene. Just step forward to the mob of protesters when you're ready."

With that, Lloyd pressed the button of the remote. Slowly the scene swallowed a riotous uproar, raising signs either printed from tarpaulins or plain wood. Chants weren't uniform as some were stating a different subject but nevertheless, they all served a single objective, and that is to pass through the police resistance before them.

"Oh and if you may, please tell us who you are before jumping in. What's your name, what are you called or perhaps how do you want to be called? Also, while you can't be killed in this simulation, it doesn't excuse you from being hurt. Just be careful of what you'll be doing."

[User]
David Jackson
"It's hard to forget a massacre of your own kind. And it's even harder when shades from said massacre start to return the favor." David gave Austin a smile. The sort of smile a father would approvingly give his son when he came home with his own car. "I'm surprised you guys trusted this random stranger. Trust is a rare resource these days. Well, I guess it's all for the better. If this really is SCAR headquarters, then SCAR itself must be pretty ready to start the fight again." David kept looking around, soaking up everything his senses could feel. Partly because he was happy being free again. But partly because he felt that he should prepare to escape. As the redhead clearly wouldn't calm down.

"Yeah. I'll stick with you. I'm glad that someone might have my back. But for now –" David formed a black, unstable orb in his hand and showed it to Austin. "-I got feeling that we don't want to let everything escalate to the point that we need to run. We should subdue Bubbles over there." He said, while pointing at Eli. "I can 'neutralize' gravity around him, or hit him with the force of a professionally thrown baseball. You decide the strategy." David felt like telling someone your powers wasn't a good idea, yet. But right now, it felt like Eli was being the fuse to a barrel of gunpowder he didn't know the size of. He didn't want to let any other superhumans get hurt because some teen couldn't stay calm.

[Assistant]
Carrie Walsh

Carrie was slightly disappointed when the man walked into the room. Relieved, sure, but she'd hoped there'd be at least one explosion before he'd turned up. She listened to his little speech while barely managing to hold back a grimace when he pointed out their situation outside. She didn't appreciate the reminder that they couldn't leave. She'd had enough imprisonment in the ORB facility, and while she wasn't against getting to cause some havoc, the fact that she had no choice about it left a bad taste in her mouth.

Also, she'd have to work with this lot. Maybe should have tried to make a better first impression, she thought, glancing over at Bubbles, who seemed as calm and reasonable as usual. Still, looking at the size of his target, she had a feeling his attacks wouldn't be as effective as he seemed to think. They'd probably just hurt his feelings more than anything. At least most of them seemed more stable than those two, or her for that matter.

Her attention was grabbed again, as the other woman, who'd been fairly quiet so far, volunteered to be the first one in the simulation. Good for her, Carrie supposed, but it didn't seem like the smartest decision. As a rule, she tried not to volunteer for strange procedures before she saw what they did. Unless there was a good amount of money involved; she may be superhuman, but not that superhuman, after all. Still, she decided to watch the proceedings for the entertainment value if nothing else. She also found a smile crossing her face at the thought of getting her turn, even if there weren't any real people to kill.

[User]
"Look at her Cain, doesn't she looks delightful. She has quite an electric attitude right Cain?" Cain chuckled to himself for a voice inside his head The Hunger was quite the joker. Cain shook the thought out of his head. He shouldn't encourage the madness that rests inside his head, he was the one in control not the dark part of his mind.

"Do I sense a chuckled from you Cain? You do well to shut me out of your mind I am the strongest part of you. I make you stronger remove your needless emotions and get rid of all that pain you suffer during your hunger spats. Why not let loose once in a while? Flex your strength and go a little crazy?!"

Cain slapped his forehead. Whispering to himself "I'm stronger then you buddy. That's why I am in control. That's why I'm the one talking right now. Not. You!" Cain shouted the last part much to his embarrassment.

Looking sheepish he raised his hands defensively. "Sorry about that. I uh have a lot on my mind. Please don't let me stop you" Cain rubbed the headache The Hunger had created by pushing at his mental boundaries.

[Assistant]
Li Min

Min grabbed the watch out of the air with unfailing accuracy, quickly putting it on. "Li Min, former US Navy SEAL." She reported crisply. "Code name Electora." Running an assessing eye over the scene one more time, she let one corner of her mouth quirk up in a half-smile. Against the expectations of most, she had missed this; had missed using her army training in a real fight. There was no reason to hold back when fighting a simulation.

There was no need to wait. Walking toward the line of policemen, Min let a predatory smirk creep onto her face. It's show time.

Rushing the nearest one, Min took him down with a knee to the groin and a fist to the face, stealing his gun and using his unconscious body as a shield. She shot at the policemen until she ran out of bullets, then flung bolts of energy towards the rest. Ditching her human shield, she created an energy shield, using the protection it gave to get up close and personal with whoever was left standing.

It was over quickly. Min stood victorious over the unconscious and dead bodies of simulated policemen, a grin on her face. That had been fun.

---

Farran Drake

Farran watched Min take down the policemen with an expression of awe. The very fact that they had a former Navy SEAL in their midst was enough to earn the woman his respect; her skill with hand-to-hand and her mastery of her power caused him to feel slightly jealous. However, now was not the time to dwell on that. He turned to Washerton and shook his head. "I'm not doing this. No way, no how. Trust me, it's a bad idea."

[User]
Carrie watched Min's display with a slight grin. It seemed like her power was some sort of energy control. Strong enough, seeing as she knew how to use it. Still, it wasn't just the woman she'd been watching, and she ran over the details of the scene in her mind. She'd have to face a large group, and being cops, they'd be armed. Couldn't be worse in the simulation than this freak show, though.

Speaking of the simulation, she looked back at it as Min finished up, and gave a slow clap - let the others decide if it was sincere - and took a step forward herself. She waited a few seconds to see if anyone else said something, then spoke up.

"So, anyone else wanting to go? Cause I'm itching to get a shot at this." She said with a confident smile, looking straight at Lloyd. "Sign me up, boss. Name's Carrie Walsh." Drug dealing murderer extraordinaire. Probably shouldn't mention that.

Oh, she forgot. Nickname. "As for my code name or whatever..." She paused. "How about Geppetto?" The puppet maker. Seemed a good fit for her particular skillset. She stood ready, a dangerous smile on her face. "Anything I need to know? If not then just tell me when it's ready to go."


[System]
Gender
Male
Age
23
Appearance
With typical Darcsen blue-black hair and a thin beard, Harald is nothing special. His off-duty wear consists of a well-worn traditional Darscen robe adapted for his former role as a police officer with a number of leather straps and sewn in pouches. When in his uniform, Harald shows his heritage with a sash worn across the chest.
Rank
Sergeant, Squad 4 NCO Commanding
Class
Scout
Weapons and Equipment

Gallian S1 Rifle and bayonet
Grenade bandoleer with space for three B-Type M1 grenades
Small Ragnaid canister and first aid pouch
Gallian Police Constabulary Service Revolver, .38 cal
Personality
Like many of his Darcsen brethren, Harald is calm and collected, possessed of patience born from a lifetime's persecution. He is likely to bite his tongue and walk away when provoked, but rest assured he will have his vengeance in the end, even if it is a petty one. When in the presence of someone who can see beyond his dark hair, Harald is relaxed and friendly, the very picture of a smiling bobby on the beat. He treats his subordinates like his own children and is prone to occasional fits of paternal rage if they are hurt or wronged.

Bio
The Gallian Police Constabulary rarely admits Darcsen as constables, but in the southern town of Rinneheim there are exceptions. Years ago the town was home to a large ragnite refinery and its itinerant population of Darcsen workers; even once the refinery went bankrupt and the industrialists moved on, the workers stayed to settle. By the time of the Second Europan War, Rinneheim was home to hundreds of Darcsen in various professional capacities, making it both a cultural melting pot and a tempting target for regular slaving raids from across the border. In order to maintain its appearance as a national force, the GPC loosened its recruitment criteria and a young man named Harald became the first Darcsen constable in the region.

Having lost his parents to disease and being bereft of siblings, Harald was raised on the street. His early years were nothing special; a mix of begging, stealing and odd jobs. During his compulsory military education he specialised in reconnaissance and demolitions, hoping to perhaps enter the Gallian Army upon graduation. Even his career with the GPC was uneventful, as Rinneheim was a peaceful city with little crime. However as the years rolled on and tensions rose across Europa, Imperial raids across the border escalated and the GPC soon found itself working as adhoc border guards. Failure by the government and the military to protect border towns such as Rinneheim led to growing unrest among the Darcsen minority, often the target of slave raids and sometimes outright ethnic cleansing.

Finding himself caught between these two opposing forces, Harald became disillusioned with his role as a constable and began to drift away from his increasingly right-wing co-workers. As March 1935 rolled around, Harald was questioning his life and role in society, questioning whether his loyalty should be to his state or his people. The events of that day in early March soon gave him his answer.

RP Sample
A lone figure strolled down Rinneheim's main street, his breath crystallising in the early morning air. AM beats were always his favourite; the air was crisp and fresh, the people too groggy to cause problems. He thought of it as a pleasant walk after a good morning coffee at the station. He rounded a corner, entering the area known among his fellow constables as Darktown, home to Rinneheim's vibrant Darcsen community. The change in atmosphere was sudden and drastic; Darktown was alive with the sounds of industry as a dozen blacksmiths plied their trade and apprentices ran to and fro across the street. The policeman smiled, nodding to the occasional worker as he rolled a cigarette. Just as he was sparking up, a melodic voice floated down from a second story window. 'Morning Harry! Still hung over?' The copper flashed one irate finger in reply as he walked on, not even deigning to look at the young woman. 'Oh really? Really, Harald? Same place, same time tonight or I'll rip your balls off!'

The same old jokes, same old banter. Such was life in Darktown, where everyone knew one another, had grown up together; the same couldn't be said for the rest of the town. The up-town beat was Harald's least favourite, where the shop owners sneered as he passed, people crossed the street to avoid him... and worst off, the little old ladies never invited him in for a cup of tea. Philistines. As he strolled through the ghetto he passed the occasional empty building, barren and silent... The Imperial raids had grown worse recently, with entire families taken in the night. He shuddered to think what fate awaited those taken by the raiders, especially considering the... examples they sometimes left behind. Harald found himself subconsciously reaching for his old service revolver, conflicting feelings of outrage and responsibility weighing down on him. If things didn't change soon, if the government didn't take steps to protect its citizens... He glanced around morosely, reflecting on how fragile a place like Darktown was. If those raids ever became something more concrete... He stopped himself. Such pessimism had no place in the eyes of a on-duty constable. Squaring his shoulders and lighting up another cigarette, Harald set off toward the station to begin his next beat.

I want to be Nancy Dufour's Onii-chan.

[User]
PFC James Hunt|Le Haye Sainte

James wouldn't have said anything even though it was pretty obvious she held the typical strong racist opinion against Darcsens. Hell, he was glad to see they finally had some proper support until he himself could get his training as a Sniper done. But she had to go and ask if she could go off alone. And if there was one thing he'd learned in the regular army, it was you never went anywhere alone. "OK, miss high and mighty, let's get two things straight. First, you don't just pretend you weren't introduced to your squad and not give your name. That's just disrespectful. Second, you don't go anywhere alone, especially in the valk damned field. You're just begging to get killed then and none of us would be the wiser. I swear, did you even pay attention when the militia was training you? Cause if not, you and I aren't going to get along very well."

[Assistant]
Private Elise Louque

Elise turned to look at the man, raising an eyebrow. Was this another private with no understanding of who should and shouldn't give orders in the army? After being recruited by a PFC, it wouldn't surprise her in the slightest. What kind of squad had she been thrown into?

"Your bad hearing is not my problem." She finally said, addressing his second issue. "I'd suggest you get it checked out though. I never said I'd go alone. In fact, I specifically asked for other snipers. Nor did I mention leaving the building. Besides, I'm a sniper. I'm not sure if you've ever heard of the concept before, but we do get specialized training."

The poor man had probably been too close to one explosion too many, or taken a hit to the head he shouldn't have. She didn't want to make fun of him in front of his squad, but he'd started it. They definitely would have a problem with each other from now on though, his decision, because she wasn't one to forgive.

"Sorry, my bad." Elise said, ignoring the man and turning to her sergeant to offer her hand. "My name is Elise Louque. It's my first time in the field, so this is all a bit overwhelming for me." It was hopefully a good enough excuse that they'd believe her.

[User]
Welll…that speech the recruiter dude gave out was certainly a loud one. Zeal was actually pretty inspired by that man's boisterous speech, and applauded at the end of the spirited performance…before realizing that he was probably one of those old-fashioned types whose only strategy consisted of tossing soldiers into the machine gun meat grinder for a glorious frontal charge. Damn.

He spent the rest of the trip praying that the recruiter wasn't also the person in charge of planning things out, and, after the recruits were lead to the barracks of Squad 4, Zeal was pleased to see that the man in charge was a Darcsen, one by the name of Harald. The ash-haired youth breathed a sigh of relief at that, before watching the introductions unfold. It looked like the albino with the nice ass was also rather pissy, already managing to anger one of the older members of Squad 4 by violating the buddy system or whatever. Didn't they already have this place secured?

Well, actually, they probably didn't, seeing how mines still had to be laid down and such…

At least it was nice to hear that the food was good?

"And I'm Private Zeal Ashart," he interjected, rather awkwardly, "Used to be a Scout, before I was retrained as a Shocktrooper since there's a shortage or whatever. And yeah, he sorta did kidnap us. Wonder if he thought I was a girl or something..."

He didn't offer a handshake, mainly because it was going to be awkward if the Sergeant had to shake two hands at once, and instead, settled for the usual.

"Anything I can help out with?"

[Assistant]
Sergeant Harald, Gallian Militia

Harald found himself somewhat embarrassed when Stichler mentioned the wounded; he had checked on Durandal before preparing breakfast, but had blithely assumed that the other two were in good care with the others. 'Not yet. Could you check on them for me? Give me a shout if they don't look any better. I'd hate to have to send them home too, but If they need proper medical care, we may not have a choice.' Surely they would recover, right? Durandal took a heavy blow to the head, possibly Sykora too, but those kinds of injuries just needed to be slept off, right..? On second though, maybe not. '... Scratch that Corporal, I'll check on them in a sec.' He turned back to the new squad members with a worried smile, wondering if any of them would be on a stretcher soon. The first didn't seem much bothered by introductions, something which in any other circumstances Harald would not have been bothered by. But naturally he couldn't just go around calling his squad mates 'Oi, you'. At least she had a rank chevron. 'I'm gonna need a name, PFC. Same with everyone.' Hunt pre-empted his order, but it was a good idea anyway. Harald had been mildly surprised (and relieved) that the Imps hadn't counter-attacked in the night. 'Sounds good, Hunt. Look mainly northward; other teams are sweeping our flanks anyway.'

Turning his attention back to the others, Harald took proper stock of them for the first time. Another lancer would be handy for morale, especially with last night's surprise tank so fresh in everyone's minds. And more shocktroopers could only be a good thing; Harald was starting to worry that he had been put in charge of a rifle section in an age of machine-guns... And last but not least, a trained sniper. A Valk's-send, especially with the open terrain perfectly suited to Imp MG nests. One of the shock troopers stepped forward to introduce herself and Harald was pleasantly surprised to find himself shaking hands with another of his folk. 'Pleased to meet you Skye. I was starting to feel like the only darkhair in the village.' His wide grin faded away as he turned to the sniper and recognised the tell-tale scowl of a typical darcsen hater. 'Not yet Private, I-' Before he could give a cold rebuke, Hunt jumped in with typical hot-headedness. The two exchanged jabs as the Sergeant held his face in one hand, suppressing a deep sigh. It wasn't like Hunt was wrong per se, but his delivery needed work. Also circumventing the chain of command could have gotten him busted to Private with a less easy-going NCO. 'Calm down now, Hunt. And welcome to the squad, Louque. You'll settle in soon enough. It's all just long periods of boredom with the odd flash of terror. Like training, only worse.' He shook her hand, wondering rather cynically if she would feel the need to rub it clean afterwards. A sadistic thought occurred to him, a way to kill two birds with one stone. 'Now then. You two are gonna be my marksmen, or markspeople if you'd prefer. Spotter and shooter.' He privately suspected that Hunt was angling for a promotion and while the lad had the potential and additional training, he lacked perspective. Working alongside someone with superior training would do him good. As for Louque, she would need a spotter and the benefit of a buddy with field experience. 'First order of business, perimeter. 90 degree arc to the north please and inform me of any movement. Don't worry about the other angles, I'll detail someone for that. Jump to, people.'

Silences reigned for a few awkward moments until another one of the recruits piped up. He wasn't quite what Harald expected of a shocktrooper, but given his background that made sense. A multi-skilled SMG user could be handy though... 'I'm not going to ask how Carn managed that. Leave the man his mysteries.' He paused for a moment, wondering what task he could give the man. There was plenty to do, especially since they hadn't properly swept the area last night. 'Well, a few things. First off, hey Glaive. Did you manage to police the bodies last night?' Carn and Bons had already left, but Glaive had hung back; luckily for her, that meant he could give her less backbreaking duties after all the work she had done the night before. Valk knew how she had summoned the energy to to it, but she had asked for permission. One person digging a mass grave was pretty ridiculous, so he suspected she burnt the corpses. 'Take Ashart here and finish it up. Collect any working weapons or equipment and load them onto the APC. No rush though, we've got a few hours until the engineers are done; just stay on alert.' And that left only a few more bodies spare to keep watch. 'And... Stichler, organise a patrol group with the leftovers. Focus on the flanks and rear, just be ready to move north in case the the sniper sees something.' There was still one more recruit who hadn't introduced herself, so Harald gave her a chance to speak before leaving. He really wanted to go check on the wounded, maybe wake them up and get them some food. Might be worth taking the lancer, since she offered to help.

Private Bons, Gallian Militia

Meanwhile, as the sergeant got to know his new lackeys, Alonso was hauling what felt like a metric ton of landmines across from the APC to the road. There should have been no reason for a simple mine to be that damn big, but for some reason the Gallian Army issue anti-tank mines held enough explosives to level a house. Digging deep enough holes for all thirty was gonna be a chore...