[System]
Age: 18

Gender: Female

Race: Human

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[User]
Christina dropped her shield with an audible sigh, staggering half a step as the pressure of the spell dropped off her shoulders.
"I cannot move while maintaining the barrier," She explained, taking a place at the Princess's side. She scanned the crowd intensely as she watched for any hint of another attack, determined that nobody else would get anywhere near the Princess as long as she still breathed. She spared a half glance toward Fanilly as she did, making sure the captain was safe as well.

"If we're to move, it should be quickly, preferably somewhere with metal in the door. I'll feel better once you're behind a barrier again."

[Assistant]
Marianne Delacroix

Seeing the guard captain crossing his arms and address her in such an informal way was enough to amplify her ire ten-fold. Her electrical aura surging along with her heightened emotional state that as she neared, the same hand that pointed a sharp finger at the mustached man opened wide as she viciously swiped her palm across the man's face with a resounding SLAP!. The force of which was empowered by her electrical mana, making the action sting and hurt just that much more. A small part of Marianne's mind worried when her open-palm slap of the man drew the attention of the other guards and nobles, but his crimes were far too serious and egregious to ignore. To go unpunished and unaddressed would be madness. Right now, Marianne was more focused on embarrassing the man and to chew his ass out. And chew him out she would. Only the Princess herself, Captain Fanily, and the Holy Immortal wherever she was, could reign her in and stop her.

"How dare you!"
She was inches away from his own face, her's quickly reddening as her blood pressure rose.
"You will uncross your arms when speaking to one of higher station and rank than yourself!"
Even if Marianne was shorter, she somehow appeared to tower over the guard as she placed her fists on her hips.
"You will stand at attention and you will address a lady by 'ma'am' or 'miss'!"
Now that she got that out of the way..
"What were you and your guards doing at this event to allow such an attempt on the Princess' life!?"
With each rise in her voice, her mana surged more and more. She dared the guard captain talk back to her and do anything other than speak in the affirmative. She challenged him to by her body language.
"Were you checking and screening the guests!?"
Her aura loudly crackled and snapped, kissing and biting at the mustached guard captain as they stung him.
"Were your guards roaming the grounds properly as they should have to keep eyes on matters?!"
Her hair of course levitated and floated in the air behind her, again only adding to her intimidating stance.
"Had we, the Iron Roses, not been here what would have happened then? On whose head would the executioner's axe fall for such a potential disaster? For such a failure had the Princess sustained a wound or even worse?!"
She and most everyone else should already know the answer to that.
"YOURS!"
Her voice boomed especially loud, to punctuate the message she was trying to get across with emphasis.
"Thank the Goddesses that the Iron Roses were present and took action swiftly to prevent injury and loss of life!"
Her eyes were locked on to the guard captain's as she focused on him, giving him her full attention as she blasted him.
"If it were up to me, if you were a Knight of the Delacroix, I would have you stripped of your position and rank for your obvious display of incompetence!"
Marianne stamped her heel as for the next minute or so she spewed a string of profanities in her native tongue in the guard captain's face. Veiling her nastier words and curses with her foreign language.
"What excuses do you have to say for yourself? Whatever it is, save it as you would be wasting your breath and our time. Leave our presence as you disgrace us all by merely standing here! Complete the tasks you were assigned if you could manage that and begone with you!"
Pointing a sharp finger in his face, she finished with one last line.
"Remember this for future reference and do better next time. For if you do not, there will not BE a 'next time'. Fix yourself, sir! And your men!"

[User]
Tiral watched in silence as the rest of the knights took action, moving off to apprehend the culprit as the barrier went up. The 'arrest', though, ended a lot less chaotically than he had expected; after all, with the assassin having just given up and collapsed on the floor... Well, there wasn't any particular reason to knock out the panicking nobles anymore, now was there?

The ice mage's expression turned to one of mild disapproval as the context of the situation came to light... Or so it seemed. Though the possibility of blackmail and coercion was there, the instant conclusion that the other knights seemed to jump to (namely, the innocence of the assassin herself) wasn't anything that he came to. He'd refrain from making any concrete objections for the moment, at least, but until everything came to light, he would at least remain wary. That was the plan, at least.

"Ah... Well, seems like my research will have to wait..." he sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. "An attempt on the princess' life, a mission to try and smoke out the culprits in the making, and guard duty for whoever's left... There seem to be a lot more important things now, aren't there?"

Musing to himself a few more moments, Tiral realized that he was still in the company of the Court Mage and bowed his head.

"My apologies for that; I have a tendency to verbalize my thoughts on occasion. In any case... I'd assume you'll be having a little bit more to do in just a short while, what with the incident just now and all that. Though... Having some more knowledge on wards and the like might be appreciated for the coming battle. If it isn't too much of a hassle, may I borrow any notes on anti-magic wards and the like? Though I would prefer a more in-depth study, time seems to be of the essence as of right now..."

[Assistant]
Sir Garrett stood watching the interrogation. It was funny really they were all playing at trying to get information from the girl. Threats were so meaningless. Only actions mattered. As they extricate the information about the sister Sir Garrett snorted. clever.

With that Sir Garrett backed off the group of Iron Rose Knights. Frankly he wasn't needed anymore with the end of the whole charade. Intelligently they had decided to proclaim the Princess dead. A small number of Knights would go with her. Not this Knight  taking a seat from one of the tables on the edge of the ballroom. Flipping the seat around he settled his weight on it facing the back off the chair as he watched the end of the drama unfold.

Dame Marianne left the group and started walking towards the captain of the guard. She really does have incredible legs  Garrett allowed himself the small Leer as she approached the Captain what happened next made him raise his eyebrows in surprise. She really is a spit fire. I think I'm in love.

As Marianne continued to get more and more angry her aura threw sparks. No way am I getting in the middle of that.  He'd caught her nervous fidgeting with the bottom edge of her dress. Taking off his long coat he folded it over the back of the chair continuing to watch the reaming from a safe distance; clear admiration in his eyes as she got louder and more shocking.

Settling in Sir Garrett let his eyes wander keeping a close eye on lingering nobles and others who were not Knights. This had all seemed so. Convenient.

The loud Crack of Marianne'scurried hand brought him back aND he chuckled to himself. Damn she has an arm. I didn't know Thaln had women like this.

[User]
"Sure. Take as much as you need." Gillian says, noting the shaking. For a brief moment, his arm feels like it was being trampled by a boar….again. He rubs it as Ian makes his suggestion. It wasnt a terrible plan, were he honest, but it was short sighted. Christina was largely immobile, it seemed, while protecting the princess. And if an assassin had managed to slip through the entire royal guard, he'd want as many eyes on the prime target as possible. "I Uh…never was much one for fired up vengeance seeking my friend." He says, gently stretching.

He watches as Marianne begins her explosion, making note not to make an enemy of her anytime soon. The woman's vocabulary of vulgar phrases was as expansive as she was dangerous. "And at any rate…" he begins, astounded as the dark haired woman rapid fired curses. "Dear lord…" He whispers, understanding maybe a third of them. "At any rate, there seems to be enough stoked flames without me adding to it. Moreover, we're looking for an assassin in a city. I'm more of a 'band of orcs in dense forest' sort of hunter." He nods towards Christina, "And with Chris providing the barrier for her highness, there would really only be one free guard. I appreciate your offer, but I think it best we stick together."

[Assistant]
As Nero gave his response back to Theodore, the big noble could not help but give a chuckle as he appealed to him. The man had both appealed to him and to his daughter while slipping in his station in life. The son of a Duke was certainly not a bad person to have on one's side after all. As he watched him go Theodore could not help but think that perhaps in the future there was something they could work out, but at the moment there were other things to take care of.

"Humph, well I can assure everything pleasant the Silvern family will not say anything on this matter until it is settled by the knights." Theodore took one last good look around and then gathered his two sons together with him. "As this is now a matter for the Iron Rose Knights it is time we depart."

Theodore gave a nod to his sons, who nodded in return and gave a bow to the knights present. "We will now take our leave, may the Goddess Mayon guide you in your pursuit of the culprits." They stood back up and then started to leave, their father soon following behind them.

As they left Theodore could be heard saying, "How many times do I have to tell who don't talk at the same time! You're not twins for goodness sake!" Before long the only Silvern left was Julianna.

Julianna was glad Nero had went his own way for now, considering the present situation it was best not to be distracted from what could still be a danger to the princess's life. While Marianne dealt with the guard captain in a rather amusing manner what was more important was the culprit's information. While the assassin herself was effectively taken care of there was still a group out there who planned harm and had taken over quite the interesting location. As a member of one of a family that had done direct combat with that rebel, it seemed rather ironic that the Cal Family Mausoleum was where they were holding up.

"That such filth would be holded up there of all places, seems rather too coincidental." They had certainly chosen that place for a reason, if they were actually there. Julianna could not help but think that perhaps this was the actual trap; however, the plan fact of the matter was they needed to go there and try to stop this plot. Also the assassin had not actually seen her sister according to the message and had only heard her breathing, meaning they actually had no idea who was in that chamber, maybe it was all a ploy. Even if things turned awry however, certainly they needed to go there and quickly if they wanted to settle the matter before the lie of the princess's untrue demise could blow up in their faces.

"We had best decide our course of action as quickly as possible, as we no doubt have a very short time frame in which to conclude this matter." Julianna said her piece and took a look around to see if she missed anything. Well the Nero take down had been amusing at any rate, also if she was not mistaken...

Yep, Sir Garett was rather enjoying a certain bit of live entertainment. She considering bringing Marianne's attention to his little peeks but such small amusement would have to wait, the Iron Rose Knights had a princess to protect and maybe even a person to save, if the assassin's report was accurate anyway.


[System]
UserName:
May
Age:
18

Mageblood type:
Lux

Favoured Magic Class:
Pryormancy

Previous Magic training:
She's done some reading, but no real training. So a somewhat read novice.

Race:
Human

Appearance:
On the lower end of average height, fair skinned, freckled and bispecteled. Bright green eyes set in a a face that might be a little too pretty for her own good, with a smile that can easily throw you off (though not always in the best of ways). Athleticly slim. Shoulder length wavey red hair often tied back when working, but left free otherwise. A slew of piercings, mostly in her ears, though she's got a ring through her right nostril as well as a few other body piercings. A fire colored tattoo of a phoenix around her right wrist, a heraldic lion on her right hip and lower back, and a outline of a peacock across her shoulder blades with just the head colored in so far.

Bio:
Third child of seven, of her father's at least, she was raised around a large extended family in Port Slaughter. Not all of this family was blood. Her father, along with assorted family members where caught up, unsurprisingly, in business of less than legal nature. Her life was comfortable enough, even if not spared all the darkness of the city around them.

She lived mostly with her mother, though it was not uncommon for her to spend time at either her oldest brother's home with his mother or with her father and his wife and her younger siblings, and on other occasions at the place her aunt shared with one of her uncle's. Despite what might have been awkward, the separate units were all very happy with the set up. Aside from her older sister's mother who kept the girl away from the rest of them for very petty reasons (her father refusing to marry her). The rest of them though seemed to have no problem with everyone else involved.

Though her father loved all his children, it wasn't too terribly difficult to tell that Helena was his favorite. There was some tension with her younger sister's the most, but Helena did all she could to defuse the tension with them. Which worked mostly well, though there's still occasion where things are awkward with the girls.

Despite the seven years between them, she was closet with her eldest brother, him being the elder of the two of them. It was easy to bound being the the ones who didn't have other siblings at home with their mother's. They bonded quickly as children, he treating her half like a brother and rough housing with her without problems and also being very much her big brother and being super over protective of her. Even as they grew older they were very close and Helena could often be found tagging along after him, no matter what trouble he was getting into.

Her mother took ill when she was about thirteen, and no matter what they did, the healers they saught out, could save her from her fate, only lessen her suffering. It was a malignant growth in her brain. It was too big, too advance when they found it to much about it that wouldn't also hurt her mother to do. They just treated what they could and eased her pain. When she was fifteen her mother finally passed, leaving her to become fully emersed in her father's less than legal business. Expanding her already questionable skill set. Most girls her age weren't well taught in the art of beating a man up well, but Helena was.

But the stress of everything didn't wear well on the normally hot tempered girl and something in her snapped. And she lit a man on fire who was trying a little too hard and not taking a no for an answer. It had happened so quickly, she wasn't for sure when it started. He was up in her face, being grabby and just generally too fresh. She said no, over and over, and he wouldn't take a hint. Helena tried backing away, but he followed closely, grabbing her wrist painfully and pulling her in hard against him. She grabbed his wrist with her right hand, and just thinking about how much she wanted to hurt him the way he'd done her was enough. She felt the heat in her hand, but it was a distant thing, no pain for her. But soon enough he was gasping and trying to pull out of her grasp. But she didn't let go, even as the smell of burning flesh came to her nose, the smoke curling out from under her hand as the small flames licked at his arm. He was screaming and the whole tavern was staring at them in utter, totally silent, shock by the time she passed out. Thankfully she was not alone at the time and once she'd passed out, she was taken home. When she came too she was disoriented and couldn't remember what had happened. He'd live, even if he would have an ugly scar as a reminder of what had happened for the rest of his life. When they told her, she was both horrified and rather excited about the prospect of lighting not human things on fire in the future.

Helena worked on and off for her father's boss when they had need of her. She helped het father and uncle with intimidation, which worked well as news of what had happened in the tavern spread. She never really asked what it was that her older brother did for the gang, she never really bothered to question too deeply what it was the gang did in general. They moved stuff, she knew, getting things for other people as they requested. She just helped make sure that no one really got hurt by threatening to hurt them if they tried.

But she was untrained and it was often dangerous for her. And others. And other property. She read what she could, mages not being totally uncommon in her family, but it had been a few years since any had studied, most of them left their powers rather ignored as long as it wasn't harmful to anyone. But without more directed training, her old man feared she burn herself out. So at eighteen he insisted rather forcefully that she seek out someone to teach her, even if that meant going away to the college. And so she did. Even if she had to have her boyfriend drag her there.

Good Attributes:
Passionate. Loyal. Determined. Hard working. She doesn't give up easily and will work until the job is done. You'd be hard pressed to get her away from a problem.

Artistically inclined. She loves paintings and reading. But on top of that she isn't too horrible of an artist herself, she's just never dedicated too much of her time on it sadly.

Athletic. She spent a lot of her childhood running around with the boys. And with boys much older than her. So she had to keep up with them. She's grown out of playing ball games with them, but she can outrun most of them now that she's bigger, despite being smaller than a lot of them.

Bad Attributes:
Hot tempered, stubborn, occasionally prone to brawling. Which is a terrible combination. She'll take on fights that she's not always so sure about winning simply because she's reached the point of boiling a little too fast. And she doesn't back down easily either. She's also a bit of a white Knight and will sometimes jump to the rescue of someone she sees as weaker or in need. It's frankly a miracle that she's not had more broken bones in her life.

While a questionable bad skill, she generally good a typical Rouge things. Lock picking, persuasion (mostly by flirting and using her physical charms), and being sneaky. They're good for her work, but not really the best things to know. She often uses for personal gain, getting things for free with no intention of returning the favor that she so heavily hinted at to whoever she was getting the thing from. Which has lead to more than one fight.

She also frequently finds herself getting drinks for free, more than she should drink. But that doesn't stop her from accepting them and drinking them. Which totally isn't a problem she swesrs. It isn't like she can't live without a drink. At least not there yet.

Secret Word:
Rebirth

[User]
☆ Helena ☆
Back at School

Helena stopped part way down the hall, distracted by the entrance of the other...well student was all she could guess until she got a better look at them. Ah yes, another student for sure. A girl (woman probably a more accurate word), and an...elf? She hummed and smiled at her when she stood and spoke to. "I'm minorly impressed," she said with a little chuckle. "But you can call me Helena."

She looked up at the much taller woman, not at all bothered it seemed by their very apparent height difference. She was used to tall people in her life after all. "And you are?" she asked with another little smile, pushing her glasses up her nose some.

[Assistant]
Alaira Taenn
She seems nice enough, I guess. She thought, looking her over with a quirked brow. Usually when she met someone they expressed either fear or a degree of revulsion. This one, however, seemed rather... well, normal. In the sense that she was not particularly upset with her presence. It was nice. She scratched at the back of her neck as she offered her other hand. "Alaira. Apprentice wizard, I guess."

The girl might notice something a little odd about her. Mainly that all the flesh below her head was well-covered. She wore very thin gloves, and while her simple peasant's clothes had short sleeves her arms were tightly bandaged, even her neck as well. She didn't look injured either, seeing as how she just shrugged off getting tossed to the ground. Could be hiding something.

[User]
Uncovering Shadows  Hysteria (Djarkel)
, @Demonic Angel, @13org and @EliteCommander

---

All the assassins managed to escape.

Not a single trace was able to be found as they vanished like smoke in the wind, the warehouse reduced to a partly burnt ruin. With the scene quiet, the students were left to resume their earlier mission. Those still healthy quickly collected their crippled allies and proceeded with medical attention. Much to a few of their fortunes, Samuel seemed to have prepared for trouble. About six tightly bundled blood sickness herbs were stashed among their things within the carriage.

Within the next two days, Henri, Lyn, and Leith were back on their feet. Naturally, during a long conversation things were decided to bring Henri back to the college with them.

Things became uneventful since the assassins didn't aim a second time for the chest. When the students finally arrived at their final destination, the Baron was grateful for the chest. Even so, he provided them with a return letter for Lucilia. Insisting that they waste no time in returning to the college before the day end, he bade them farewell.

Present

Lyn

Lyn sat, comfortable and warm, covered by blanket inside the carriage. Being slightly cold-blooded, her instinct forced her to suck heat from the nearest heat source. Much to Henri's enjoyment, that happened to be him. She disliked the cold as it bit through the wool and dug into her flesh. It chilled her to the very bone at the worst times.

The driver upfront hollers back to his passengers. "Twilight College just ahead, folks."

Gradually the large gates creaked open to allow the horse and the students through. As the horse snorted, their figures brought to a halt, Lyn was the first out. The blanket still wrapped about, she felt her joints pop then snap upon exiting.

 "Oh, geeze… ow…owie!"

She leaned back to release the pressure on her back. Sitting for days on end was not fun at all and made her muscles all stiff.

College Troubles
Val, Twilight College

Five-One@BlackPanther@Luna

Seeing the younger woman still panicking, Val decided to take matters into her own hands. The dwarven woman gently placed her hands on either side of Elise's arms then gently guided the woman toward the infirmary. Averting eyes from the color red.

"Come on Lassie, follow me."

Val paused long enough to address Veretu.

" Ye n' Summer t'ere 'ead to t'e kitc'ens. T'en explore the college a bit. I'll 'ave K'an send Rat'el to git ye later. Sounds like a plan?"

[Assistant]
☆ Helena ☆
Back at School

Helena noted the way that she was looked at. She was sure the other girl was gawaked at for her height around others. But as she looked her over more she noted that it was much more than just her height. Her brow quirked some as she wondered what it was that had disfigured her so. And yet hadn't touched her face.

She took the offered hand in her much smaller one though she shook with a strength that her size hide. She was decently strong for her height and weight. "Well it is a pleasure," she replied with a smile, dropping her hand back down to her side before sliding both of them in through her belt. "Rather gathered you were a student though."


[System]
Age: 18

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Weapon:
Two metal tonfas, Artorius and Gwenhwyfar (formerly Lawnslot). Both are identical, visually, save perhaps a few differences in internal mechanism. In the traditionally held position, the longest part of the body aligning along the forearm, the forward facing post is actually a shotgun barrel; though standard shells are the usual ammunition, dust rounds can be loaded instead. The storage area expands along the spine of the weapon. The recoil is often used for propulsion when useful. The primary length of each tonfa actually has a blade running along it, resembling one half of a sword, to be specific.

This is because both weapons are capable of combining into a large, long sword; Caledfwlch. The two weapons reconfigure in such a way as to create a long, straight two-handed sword with a straight crossguard. The shotgun barrels are reoriented as the crossguard, one pointing to the left and the other to the right, used to enhance the power behind his swings.

Artorius and Gwenhwyfar both have one other unique attribute; high capacity batteries built into their frame. Each battery continuously siphons a supply of Aura from Benjamin, building the energy up so long as they are, in some way, upon his person. This energy can be released with a button built in below the shotguns' triggers, on the handle of the combined blade, or on the handle of the smaller tonfas. The release of this energy usually is used to power his Semblance, and must be replenished over time when discharged.

Joyous Guard
Expansion Calibrated for Ultimate Resistance
B. Lloyd #8 of 7

An expansion device manufactured to work in conjunction with Artorius and Gwenhwyfar. In its default form the Joyous Guard is a tower shield, large and incredibly heavy. Two racks are integrated into its back side for holding the two tonfa when not in use. It can be held in hand, affixed to the forearm (vertically or horizontally) or stored on Benjamin's back. The top and bottom sides taper off into wedges, enabling it to be used as an offensive bludgeoning weapon when affixed horizontally to the forearm. Its connection to the forearm is carefully designed to ensure that both tonfa are compatible in use when the shield is in play, though Joyous Guard is primarily intended for use with Caletfwlch. The shield is manufactured from dense, durable metals, making it even heavier than it looks. For this reason Gravity Dust was used in its construction, making it nearly weightless in Ben's hand. Notably, however, it is Aura-coded to Ben's Aura; in the hands of anyone not on its whitelist, the Gravity Dust reverses and makes it too heavy to be lifted.

Joyous Guard's secondary configuration requires the use of Artorius and Gwenhwyfar. The shield unfolds, incorporating the transformation mechanisms in both tonfa to provide the necessary components for the configuration. Namely they provide part of the edges and part of the hilt of the immense two-handed sword Joyous Guard becomes. The effects of the Dust carry over in this form, ensuring that Ben can swing it almost as easily as he would Caletfwlch. In fact, due to the nature of F=ma, a swing from it will be many times as devastating with a fraction of the effort. Like Caleftwlch, the shotgun barrels incorporated into the hilt aid in granting increased force to its swings.

Finally, in a tertiary configuration, Joyous Guard can convert while affixed to Ben's forearm by splitting down the middle and orienting the magnetic racks used to hold Artorius and Lawnslot along the two horizontal halves. The Lightning Dust used to generate that magnetic field, in this form, cranks into overdrive to turn the shield into a forearm mounted electromagnetic cannon. Slow-firing, but incredibly potent in its offensive power. Artorius and Lawnslot are absolutely necessary for this configuration, as they provide the additional structural stability needed to let Joyous Guard withstand the considerable forces exerted. As a bonus, however, this makes their shotgun barrels useful in this configuration.
Specialty: Benjamin is a highly adaptable fighter. He lacks dedicated defensive capabilities, but his weapons serve very well as augmentation to forearm blocks. The lightweight nature of his weapons, however, also means that he is a highly agile fighter. His preference is to move as quickly as possible, landing strikes when opportunities present themselves and evading blows (blocking if absolutely unavoidable).

Use of both his Semblance and Caledfwlch is exceedingly rare, to the point that they have not yet been used during his career at Beacon. Both are abilities and options he keeps to himself, aces up the sleeve. Ultimately, his style permits him to act as the situation demands, though the drawback to the continuous siphoning of his Aura, as well as his lack of any dedicated defensive tools, is that his personal defenses are noticeably lower than others'.

Semblance: Deinamig: Benjamin is capable of using Aura to fuel an individual section of his body to well beyond its usual limits. Fueling his legs, for example, will drastically increase both speed and power of his legs, and fueling his arms will do much the same. This can, theoretically, be applied to any section of his body. The Aura for this is usually provided by the resevoirs built up within his weapons, but that supply is not infinite. If a situation arises where he is unable to tap into it (or it runs out) he can directly fuel his Semblance with his present Aura.

Personality: Benjamin is a friendly guy. He also, at first glance through his performance in school, nothing to write home about. Average or slightly above in all his classes, with the only oddities appearing once one takes a closer look. His homework assignments represent minimal effort, while all examination scores actually place him near the top of the grading scale. Between the two, depending on how the class is run, they average out to roughly average grades. In short, Benjamin doesn't bother to do his homework until the last minute, if at all. He conforms to a decidedly nonstandard view of what is important, and what is not. Things he views as "busy work", such as most homework assignments, are treated with at best casual disregard, while things he views as important (tests, examinations, practice, getting to know people) works at. His strange views actually are rooted in a single opinion; if it isn't something he needs to do in order to do well in his life, it doesn't really matter. People skills will be important, combat skills will be important, all of the knowledge he amasses will be important. So he takes his tests and exams seriously, but at the end of the day… Who's going to care, once he leaves Beacon, whether or not his did his vocabulary flash cards?

This practical viewpoint extends to many aspects of his life, but he will always make an effort to get to know people. His wit might be a little sarcastic at times, but anyone who he views as a friend will find that few will go to greater lengths for their friends. Aside from his practicality, which more than a few teachers might instead term "laziness", Ben has one other notable quirk. He seldom fights at full capacity. He believes it is always best to have an ace or two tucked away up the sleeve, so that if a situation ever arises where he simply can't handle it, or needs just a little more power… He has something to draw on.

Color: Steel Gray

Emblem: A single inverted sword set behind a shield emblazoned with a crown device.

Appearance: Benjamin is a few inches short of six feet, making about average height for his gender. He has an athletic build, obviously necessary given his school, but he isn't overly muscular.The fighting style he prefers requires nimble movements, mandating that he maintain both a reasonable muscle mass as well as his agility. A faint grin is his default expression, blue-gray eyes bright with life under slightly messy light brown hair. He wears the Beacon school uniform completely unmodified, though it isn't at all uncommon to see him take the coat off and carry it around. When not attending class (and thus not required to wear his uniform), he tends to default to jeans paired with a black or gray long sleeved shirt. Light but durable boots are his footwear of choice, as his usual field attire simply adds some lightweight gray armor over his torso, and perhaps greaves to his shins. Artorius and Lawsnlot are carried at his belt, one on either side.

[User]
Gratia Mindaro - Towards the Dorms

"Vega Venetia and Napoli Fiordilatte," she rattled off without missing a single beat, her purposeful stride continuing to carry her towards the dormitories where Team VGNB would be staying for the duration of their time at Beacon Academy. Her tone was restrained and flat, the former somewhat surprising when the subject matter included the irksome fool that was her cheese-eating acquaintance. "They are currently in the middle of class."

She stopped, the pit-pattering of her shoes against the floor fading away into the air as they arrived before the doors to the dormitory. Gratia reached out and grasped the door handle, turning it slightly clockwise and pushing open the wooden gate with a light click. This was where she and the rest of Vignoble would be staying, now joined by the Otter faunus standing behind her. Bianca's scent ... the smell of feathers ... that was still present, but she knew that their previous member was already heading back to Mistral for family business, leaving them with a new teammate who she was only barely familiar with.

"Leave your things here," continued the Mistralese Huntress. "Will you be attending class immediately?"

[Assistant]
Cobalt Chideta - Just outside the Infirmary

Cobalt nodded as he absorbed the information given. He knew how to carry and injured person now, this was useful knowledge. He saw Sapphire roll her eyes and frowned. There was no need to be nasty, he was establishing information in order to figure out what was going on. However it seemed as if he was missing something as they started talking about some guy named Pops.

"Mind filling me in on this Pops? I don't believe I know what you're talking about." He asked politely as he looked towards the infirmary. The kid would tell them everything that happened to him, so maybe it was pointless to be speculating like this. Then again, maybe the kid wouldn't make it. That was a worrying thought.

[User]
Oswald Connolly-Outside the Infirmary

"I've seen people with good intentions do a hell of a lot worse than...that...believe it or not. But that's not really our problem. I think there's a connection, but you should check with Ozpin. Report on the situation, what you saw at that facility, and let him put it together. I'm sure there's a hundred variables we have no idea about." His chest was still pounding like a drum, but Oswald was at least a bit more calm than he had been a moment ago.

"This is probably something well above our level. Nonetheless, I'd love to get the chance to break some skulls if we ever figure out where the psycho who did this is. Give them a little taste of karmic justice. Just a taste, though." Opening and closing his fists, Oswald fidgeted uneasily as he tried to push the mental image from his head of the kid.

[Assistant]
Grane Blauer
"I will try my best...Sir."

Grane wasn't sure how to greet the headmaster, so he assumed it was like meeting any other superior. Even if the headmaster turned out to be casual with his students, Grane didn't want to run the risk of making a bad impression, especially if the Headmaster was one of those types who cared about proper titles. He merely followed suit with his teammate, Delta. The Headmaster's demeanor in Grane's opinion, was scholarly. Yes, while the headmaster did seem to have an air of authority, it was unlike those in the military. He was not as forceful, nor did he flaunt much power. For a headmaster of Hunters, he'd assumed that the headmaster would be extremely authoritarian. Grane quickly swiped the scroll and inspected it to make sure it was in proper working condition.

A scroll was oddly alien to him. Was he supposed to use it to find their supposed leader, Robert Fallson? Turning it on only led to more questions than answers. Mail, search, home? Grane threw the scroll into his bag; He'd figure out how to use the blasted thing later. Maybe someone from his "team" could get it sorted out. Perhaps Delta could. Unlike Grane, Delta seemed to navigate the scroll with ease. Humans were good at technology, though he wouldn't admit that out loud.

But the academy seemed eventful today, with who he assumed was a student rushing into the office.

"Sir, Whatever you order, I will follow to the best of my abilities. Basically what Delta said."

[User]
Diamond was watching the processing. Unlike others she was in no hurry to go help the person, fuck no! What if whatever he was dying of was contagious? She was all for helping people, but she always came first. If Oswald and... Manganese guy fancied growing black eyes, good for them, she'll be right here. Other people can get creepy sick, people actually paid for it. Emerald seemed to have a similar idea, kissing the floor right after returning her hat. Note to self: No horror movie nights unless planning revenge. the thief though as she bent down, loading the unconscious cat over her shoulder and heading for their dorm.

Once there, she put the faunus on her bed and went to fetch a glass of water for when the lights turned back on. Sitting at the edge of the bed, she gave Emmy a look: "You know, this is the second time in two weeks you were out cold and I had to haul you here. I'm thinking maybe a scary night is in order to make you a bit resistant to things." She chuckled, "Not taking you out drinking agin though, you're hopeless there and a mean drunk."

[Assistant]
"Little stress is part of the job." Ben's neck cracked quietly as he stretched, making him wince internally about the last time he'd heard that sound. Still, he felt marginally better than he did when that fight ended. He wasn't actively bleeding, and the Tylenol was doing wonders to at least keep him from noticing how sore he was. The young man looked over at his teammate, relatively focused (more than he was, at least) on her paper, with a half smile. "Thanks for the concern, though. It's not too bad. Might actually be good for me, all things considered. Forces me to goof off a little less. Work ethic was always my weakest point."

"And of course we're friends." His half grin widened, replaced by a bright, friendly grin. "Not just friends, either. You're my teammate. Means I trust you to watch my back, and as much as someone else'd probably do a better job, you can trust me to watch yours."

His grin expanded to rival the Cheshire Cat. "Though with the egos in this room, even I'm better than the alternative."

The music had been an increasing volume in the background for a while now, but one he'd been trying to tune out. When it finally grew loud enough to overcome his attempts to ignore it, half the class was already vacating the room. Amy's hearing was making things much worse for her, and his eyes narrowed.

"Any chance Amy can move?"


[System]
Lord Uilles Venray

Lord Pharlan Auregin Venray

Lady Leandra Hendreshy Venray

[User]
Tourmaline turned to Arn with purpose and speed.
"I fear we have no more time to converse…for the now at the least…your presence is required as the Empire is closing in on its victory. Take my advice…take the girl and leave…there will be nothing but death for you and her here in this land."
He started to fade back as Eilis's form within the Aether started to move again.
"She'll come to in a minute, there is one more matter we must attend. You cannot tell her of your plans to free her from me, she'll think you a fool and would want to keep you safe. Softhearted creatures that women are, she won't allow you do attempt it if she knows. She's stubborn like that.
Just thought I should tell you in case you're one of those idiots that thinks sharing everything with your friends and those you care for is a good thing." The being's tone dripped with sarcasm at that last particular point.
"Now I will refrain from stepping in again, so she won't bleed to death, but you'd better keep her alive. There is still a war going on after all and innocent casualties can happen." The being ended as he returned their sights to them as Eilis's glowing stopped. Both were back in the chaos of the warzone, still on the back of their wyrm and just in time to watch the horror unfold in the distance as the palace was blown to pieces.
Eilis cried out in horror at the sight wondering what the hell was happening to her as the guns smothered the silence and roared around them.

[Assistant]
Tobi was used to free falling from the carrier ship unto their target like any other Shooting Star. However, this was usually done with jet packs or even fast roping. Being manhandled by the silver haired Knight Captain was not something he would call enjoyable. Alexa on the other hand was living the dream. Not only had she been able to fight alongside her hero on a daring and deadly assault but he was not holding her in his arms. The explosions and exploding salvo around them only seeming like spotlights for Tyrhallan's splendor.

The young mage uttered a grunt as the trio landed. He stood up shakily and nodded at the praise and apology from the Venray Lord.  "We are all warriors Captain Venray. My lads knew what they were doing and the price that is often paid. It just sucks we they could not take more of those sons of bitches down with them. I guess that falls on us"

Alexa looked in Tobi's direction and he made a face and shook his head. He might be cut and bruised but he would be dammed if he let the haughty blonde nurse him like some pup. He had his pride and he was also a bit jealous of the way she looked at the Knight Captain but he would not allow himself to acknowledge that.

Rolling her eyes at the rude grimace the young mage made the young lass popped tall and spoke clearly with a hint of happiness in her voice. "Captain Venray, we are both still able to perform. Please lead on."  It was Tobi's turn to roll his eyes as he mockingly repeated what the girl said below his breath as he made sure he did not have any serious wounds. Other than some burns and flesh wounds he seemed to be ok.

As the pair stepped up to stand next to the taller man, they heard his gasping no. Both looked up to see him with question in their eyes and looked back at the scene. At first it seemed just like any other battle that was being fought around them. At least to Tobi who could only make out two armored men going at it. It was not until Alexa echoed Tryhallan's gasp that the young mage figured it must be somebody important.

So Important in fact, that Tyrhallan boosted away, the ripple of the Aether almost pushing the young mage away from sheer surprise. "What the fuck?" Tobin said as he caught himself from tripping. "Where the hell is he going?" the young man said trying to follow the blur that was Tryhallan as he jumped the great distance.

Alexa was stunned for a second as she realized who the man was. She had studies and read books about Uilles Venray and her father had regaled her with valiant deeds. To see him so pressed in such a manner stole her breath. Add that to the shock of seeing the Knight Captain disappear amid the barrage of weapon's fire and she went white as death.

Thankfully, Tobin's spunky attitude came to the rescue. Alexa felt a descent slap on the back of her head as the young mage wacked her to try and get her attention.  "Hey love bird, snap out of it. What the hell are we going to do? Master Mage Arn needed us to bring him back. It seems the Knight Captain has a death wish."

Alexa pushed the young mage away.  "You insolent fool!" She yelled at him anger and concern mixing. "That man over there about to be killed was his uncle Lord Uilles Venray! What else can we do but try to help both of them." She pulled out a small whistle and blew on it. Hopefully her mount had survived the incessant air battle.

[User]
Arn returned the stare of the shadow man who had identified himself as Troumaline. The master mage's eyes were devoid of any feeling though in the inside of him he there was confusion. History had recorded the man before him as a hero. There were a myriad of books in the library at the Academy that detailed exploits and even assumptions on the life of this mysterious mage who had appeared out of the shadows to become basically the savior of Ith.

The men who stood before him, however, felt nothing like the merciful hero that he had read about and even had courses on. One thing the master mage could not deny was the fact that the power that emanated from the shadow man lived up to the legends and stories.
The pressure he felt on the Aether was tremendous. It was almost as if the Thread itself was trying to escape from being too close to the man. What kind of fools or demented people would bind such a powerful being to a fragile girl like his Eilis, no matter how brave she was? He needed to find out more.

Arn did not need the ancient mage to tell him that they could not easily liberate his protégé. The warning regarding the danger of attemptin such a procedure weight heavily on the Mage's heart. But he knew that perhaps it would be best for his blonde companion to die and be free than continue this life of slavery. She had on many occasions begged and had him promise that he would not allow her to become a tool of destruction.

He shook his head, no there had to be a way to ensure not only a successful transfer but also keeping the young girl alive. "Master Tourmaline" The battlemage said respectfully. Not because he wanted to sweet talk the shadow man but because regardless of the current situation of the man causing harm to his charge, Arn truly felt respect for the shadow figure in a professional level, especially if the shadow figure was truly Troumaline.  "I will do all I can and all I must to see Eilis free…"

"I fear we have no more time to converse…for the now at the least…your presence is required as the Empire is closing in on its victory. Take my advice…take the girl and leave…there will be nothing but death for you and her here in this land."

Arn was cut short by the shadow man. He nodded understanding and agreed that this chaotic battle sky was not the place to strategize or figure out how to proceed with liberating Eilis.  "Very well, but you have my promise that this will not be our last talk and do not worry, I would not burned Eilis with worrying about the decision I already have made."

It would hurt him to keep his lovely charge in the dark about transferring the shadow man unto himself but like Tourmaline had said, she would never allow it. Sometimes, it was more merciful to leave such things unsaid.

Through his connection with Eilis he felt the powerful presence slowly fade. The Thread stopped throbbing and instead resumed its even hum almost as if it was taking slow deep breaths after being frightened.

Regaining his senses, the din of battle was deafening. The mage even had to shake his head to shake of the shock. He felt the body of Eilis go a little limp. It made sense as the pressure that Troumaline had placed on not only her Thread but her body must have exhausted her. When she came to, her screaming reaction was understandable.

Arn leaned in close as she spoke directly into her ear. "Eilis, Eilis, its ok. You are safe. We need to get out of here." The mage helped her sit back down and tried not to touch her open wounds. "WE need to get you healed up.
 I know you are probably weak but are you able to draw power from me to heal yourself." He looked around not only to identify any threats but looking for specific people. "Where the hell is Tobi and Tryhallan…" he muttered under his breath as he prodded this mount towards the part of the sky that looked like it had the least amount of fighting on it.

[Assistant]
As Ravros brought his sword up he watched the glare that Uilles cast at him.
Hate me. He thought. It is no more then you deserve.
A blur flashing in the corner of his eyes for a moment.
As Ravros flexed his might to decapitate Uilles, bringing the final swing down he was met instead by the incoming knee of a raging Knight Captain. Ravros stumbled back, trying to regain his footing as the red and white blur became visible as Tyrhallan stood in between his Uncle and Ravros.
Both quite surprised to see him.
"Tyrhallan? You're supposed to escort…" Uilles started as he regained his composure.
"We can argue about this later!" His nephew snapped at him, taking him a back again.
Ravros however regarded the two with clear suspicion. They knew one another…that much was obvious and if the white hair wasn't a dead give away their emblems surely were. The Venray crest.
"What's this? A son? A little family reunion?" He asked with curiosity allowing the two their moment to catch up, though they didn't bother to answer him.
"Tyrhallan go… I order you to go… This doesn't concern you!" Uilles said as he attempted to stand up again.
Tyrhallan cast a glance back at his uncle.
The man could barely stand anymore and if the blood dripping from his armour was any indication the man was bleeding profusely.
"Don't be ridiculous Uncle, you're in no shape anymore to fight him nor to order me about, call it disobedience or mutiny I don't care."
Uilles eyes him with a pleading look, but Tyrhallan ignored it.
"I am not leaving you here so you can die for the sake of your pride! Not when Belisio still needs you. When I still need you." He cut back.
"All my life you trained me to be worthy of following into your footsteps. You told me to protect the innocent and defend the weak. To bring hope when there was none. To do what was right. And right now that means keeping you from making a stupid mistake. My place is here between you and him."
Tyrhallan's words earning him a grin from Ravros.
"Well, it seems the boy made his decision Venray. You'll just have to patiently wait your turn and in the meantime watch me rip his legs off of him, but rest assured, I will not forget about you. Your comeuppance will come." He promised darkly.
Tyrhallan raised himself, taking his position and keeping a careful eye on the man.
"Well we'll see about all that…After all you will have to catch me first." He replied with confidence.
Ravros chuckled for a moment as he took his place, his large sword swinging about in order to loosen up again.
"Bring it boy."
Before Uilles could stop him, Tyrhallan dashed at Ravros. He avoided his slow and heavy swings and instead dove underneath it to kick his legs from underneath him. This attempt almost succeeded were it not for the grab Ravros did pulling Tyrhallan down as well, making him smack his head against the metal deck. He quickly spun away and out of range despite the pain and watched Ravros get up as well releasing a tuft of hair he had torn off of Tyrhallan's head in his attempted grab.
"Seems you're not so fast after all boy."
Tyrhallan narrowed his eyes and shadowstepped again, only to force himself to deflect and parry the blow Ravros send his way, allowing Fatebringer up close and nearly taking off his nose, but causing a proper cut across the cheek.
Angered by the new pain and drawn blood Ravros send his other fist flying into Tyrhallan's direction, barely missing his face as he retreated and was forced on the defensive.
Ravros's anger fueled the speed of his attacks and even with Tyrhallan's speed even he was having difficulty keeping up with the big guy.


[System]
Age: 45; roughly 18 for a human

Bounty: Currently bountyless

Gender: Female

Appearance: Roughly 12 feet tall. Her sword and shield are as seen in the picture.

Personality: Hertha is best described, in many ways, as a typical Elbaf warrior. She is a bit rowdy at times and jumps at the chance to test her metal in both friendly and unfriendly combat. She enjoys the kind of fun one can find in a tavern, though finding a tavern that can fit her much less provide enough booze to get her drunk can be tricky. She has always and will always be fiercely loyal those she respects, doubly so if they respect her in return. But despite that hot-blooded nature that colors her actions, she is a very determined, focused girl at her core. Her goal is to be recognized as the true Elbafian warrior that she knows herself to be, to live up to her father's warrior legacy. In all things she does, she gives 100 percent, expects nothing less of others, and woe to those who get in her way.

Backstory: Hertha, though many don't seem to believe her, is a Giant from Elbaf. You may be asking why is she less tall than even some 'giant human'? Well, Hertha is a victim of a rare Elbafin birth defect that really doesn't have a proper translation into the common language. The closest approximation is 'Dishonorable Stature'. Superstition has it among the people Elbaf that those born with this condition are cursed to be 'failures' as Elbafin warriors and would misfortune and doom to those around them. As such, most born are either killed by their parents or left to die in the wilds. Her father and mother scoffed at this old superstition and chose to keep their daughter all the same. Hertha's father, a pirate himself, was captured and killed by marines before Hertha turned 1. Tensions quickly began to rise in her village, people began to whisper that any of them could be next to be caught up in the children curse. Her mother had always been of poor health and was more a civilian than a warrior, she knew she couldn't protect her daughter from the fearful superstitions. She took to the east blue with her infant child, even for a 'weak' giantess such as her living in the calm territory of the East Blue would be a fairly simple task. She settled in on a somewhat remote island town, making her place among their farming community; The locals greatly appreciated the immense strength of the giantess on their efforts so their lives were fairly easy.

Hertha took deep pride in her Elbaf heritage, as well in her father's legacy. her mother telling her stories of their history as a people or her father's adventures. She decided she wanted to train to be a great warrior and carried the Redrivers name back to the seas and prove her blood wasn't truly a curse to her and her family. Her mother, despite everything, supported this wish. Sickly though she was was, she still an Elbafian who honored valor and courage above all, and seeing her daughter spit at her 'curse' and deciding to walk her fathers path gave her great pride. She wanted nothing more than her child to shove their stupid superstitions down their throat. Hertha spent many years training on her own, eventually seeking out a master to aid her in her training in the east blue. Finding someone who could teach her a style suitably close to the traditional Elbaf fighting styles was difficult, but she eventually found a 'giant human' who specialized in fighting techniques for people of their size. She adjusted them accordingly to better imitate her mother's descriptions of Elbaf combat.

Since leaving her mother's side in search of honor and glory she has grown a reputation as a mercenary. Working for anyone who had the coin to buy her blade. Funny enough, she would often lower her price a great deal if the job was 'difficult enough'. This was a tactic to help her more likely to attract 'glory' winning jobs. Though it had the unfortunate side effect of giving her a distasteful Alias.' Hertha the Cheap'. Some even dared call her 'Hertha the Runt', as the ruffians who do mercenary work out in the east-blue don't tend to know about Elbaf and those that do certainly don't know enough about them to know about a condition that would make a full-blooded giant so small. Most think she is a delusional 'giant-sized human' and use the moniker to taunt and make fun of her. Though they often regret it.

While dabbling in pirating she was never directly associated with any captain or crew so has yet to be labeled as anything more than a troublesome sellsword known for immense strength and tenacity. Her ultimate goal was to become a pirate like her father, But she had trouble finding a captain and crew who's met her liking. She has worked for just as many merchants as pirates and has been offered full-time jobs plenty of times.

Abilities:
Combat: Hertha is a well-trained swords/shield woman. Her style, like that of many young Elbafian warriors still forging their skills, is simple but effective. She leverages her great reach and strength to her advantage in combat. She has yet to evolve her style very far out of the basic form of elbaf sword play, but her personal flair is starting to bud in the form of her being very nimble and dexterous for her size, making her effective at both fighting groups of normal-sized foes and troublesome to single ones larger than her, much less anyone in her own weight class. Shes seems to be about twice as strong as most giant-sized humans of her size, a trait she attributes to Elbafin heritage.

General:
She is actually quite the handy girl. She forged her own blade , helm, and shield. She put her size and strength to many uses around her village. Construction, ship-repairs, farming, you name it she probably did it for a decade or two. Put that with the better part of 8 years she's been at sea and she's already a very versatile 'jack of all trades' sailor to have on board. Besides being able to deal with most strength-based problems, she can perform minor and emergency ship repairs. Though her greatest skill is Blacksmithing, she spent a great deal of her free time among the village blacksmiths. Had she not preferred swinging a sword rather than making them she could have likely made a living at metal work. To that end, she is handy at fixing a great deal of weapons and devices, as well as crafting new ones if you give her the blueprints for what you want and don't mind her maybe having to make a prototype or two before getting it right.

Relationships: She doesn't know the crew or captain yet, save for what she's read in the papers. But that has given her a good feeling about this crew, she thinks she may have finally found a ship worth calling home.

Dreams: She wishes to be recognized as not just a true warrior by all of Elbaf, but one of the greatest that ever lived.

[User]
"Hey Alesia wait up!" Flint would shout as he chased after the girl. He was mildly annoyed as he really wanted to get his shopping done, and Alesia was the one carrying the money. Sure he had the reward money, but that was to be supplementary to their funds. Luckily for him, the captain would give up on chasing after that suspicious dog and head to a Tavern. He'd follow her in and get chewed out for losing her "pet". Now was a good time to get the money for supplies. "Sorry about losing Scruffy Cap'. I thought someone had him tied down. If you want I can try and find another pet while I'm out getting supplies. Speaking of them, could you try and keep out of trouble long enough for me do to that?"

As he looked around, his gaze stopped and lingered. It was that man! He looked just like the description the mayor gave him. Well, at least he wouldn't need to spend too much time to hunt him down. He also noticed there some people coming in. He chuckled as he heard her discuss the spread of the treasure they took from the Shade pirates. He didn't mind it being generous, but if they needed a new ship. Well those weren't cheap. Flint would definitely add his share to that new ship reserve. "Seems like you're quite charming cap. If we get more people you might need to trade in the Sloop for a larger ship or at least buy one if it you're unwilling to part with it. Of course we probably shuffled out some old crew since I could have sworn some of them just disappeared into the crowd. Anyway I'm going to take some money and get some supplies."

Flint would get up and take the money and then moved to the fortune teller's table. He'd take a close seat to the man and then slide him the cash and the letter. "You mind if make this fortune private or at least close to it as possible? I was told to deliver this letter to you, by a certain someone." He tried not to draw too much attention from the crew. He had no clue what he'd end up getting involved in by delivering this letter. But it would be for the best to keep other people's involvement to a minimum unless he really needed help.

[Assistant]
Tavern Corner - The Great Fortune Telling @Jerkchicken
"Not even a sign of tamperings, to think that you would deliver this letter," The fortune teller gazed at the seals of the letter, then pushing the letter back to Flint," A surprise that you pirates are so honest. But I already figured out what this letter is about, something regarding Duke Benniad."

The fortune teller drew out a sign form the deck of cards. The symbol of the Marshes. "Should you want to challenge the man that hides under another name, it won't be an easy voyage for you and the crew."

Breaking the waxed seal, the fortune teller pulled out a small letter, placing it at Flint's side. There it reads:

I'll skip with the formalities as you requested, I've confirmed this from the Rumours of the Brown Isles. Duke Benniad of the Kingdom of Argin is indeed the pirate Rel'chunk.

A letter as short as it is, yet it conveyed what it needed. Rel'chunk the 'Lord of the Evening', one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea.

The second card that the fortune teller drew was the card of the Wilted Feather, then the sign of snakes, the sign of an oasis, and lastly the sign of a ghastly old man with a sword.

"Allow me to explain further, your captain has a liking to animals," He pointed to the card of snakes, "And I can see that you have raised an Arctic Wolf. Seems like it escaped recently."

The fortune telling was accurate, as he pointed on the wilted feather and continued, "Your Crew have a few interesting people. That is in the news, but you fought a Marine Lieutenant, one that is stronger than his own rank. The other two cards are more relevant to your crewmates. So any further questions to ask?"

---

Tavern – Alesia @Genon
Another person, a man in a black suit joined the table. Alesia felt that she had been getting all the unwanted attention lately. She should've gotten a copy of newspaper beforehand, as she pondered on what the news wrote about. Perhaps not of something pleasant. She replied without showing much expression, "Sure, go ahead."

[User] Hertha snorted at the caution exhibited by Alisa in 'maintaining the appearance of just humble travelers', it was probably wise, but Hertha knew that laying low was never going to be an option for her once she started piracy proper. While she didn't know if her family name of 'Redrivers' still held any clout in the private community out in the grand line seeing as dad died over 40 years ago now and the memory of humans was often short; the fact that she was a giant woman was going to make it impossible to blend in most places. Still, she'd respect the potential captain's wishes, no need to cause a fuss or call unwanted attention to them if that wasn't what they were looking for. She glanced at the chairman pushed out to her, and then the one Alisa pushed to her. She really wasn't sure if the chairs build for your average human-sized person could hold her, nor would they be all that comfortable to sit in if they could, but she wasn't going to be so rude as to decline her possible new captain and fellow crew members hospitality. She seized both chairs and slid them together until they were touching. Hopefully, they could carry her weight together. She gingerly sat down as carefully as she could, the wood creaking and visible bowing under her weight...but it seemed to hold for now. "I'm not interested in any cut of treasure I didn't help you get. If you insist on giving me any share, just put it towards your next ship. Getting one that has room for me to get out of the sun or rain could possibly be a bit expensive if you are interested in having me aboard. Though I am used to just making do with a sturdy tent on the deck in my time sailing these seas, if I'm going to call a ship home I would prefer it to but an actual roof over my head, even if it's just in the cargo hold."


[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]
Amal blinked, aghast. He took the strange runic knife and the advice, though it took all of his willpower to not free himself then and there to go and find Emmaline. He glanced at Sir Brenly, the old codger staring in shock at Amal and the snake, and for good reason. The others in the slavehold seemed to pay very little mind except for one or two, and they looked more curious than alarmed or animated in any real fashion. They'd likely given up on freedom days ago.

"Sir Brenly, I've a confession to make." Amal said in riekspeil as the storm roared over them, wetting the floor ever more with gentle streams of water ebbing down onto the bilge. Amal was used to lying to people all the time. In fact he found it quite charming that Emmaline had made a living off of it, as problematic as some might likely think on his tastes. But when it came to truly honorable aquaintences or even friends, he did feel just a small twinge of guilt lying.

"I'm not a Satrap. I'm just a lowly thief, named Amal. The Princess is aboard this ship, but she is not a princess. She's a sorceress and my girlfriend. I'm sorry to have lied to you, but we needed passage on the El Cargador. I don't know you too well, but you're a more honest man than I'll likely be." He said, having no trouble admitting it. Being a scoundrel was just too much fun, though sometimes he did feel envious of those people with impeccable codes of honor. "Emmaline and I are leaving this ship. Can I count on you to join us?"

The portly gentleman glared at Amal with judgemental eyes, weighing him for a moment. The Arabyan kept quiet as the man just looked at him, before Sir Brenly broke the silence.

"My boy, you could be Vlad Von Carstein and I'd still leave this hellhole with you." He said.

Amal smiled broadly as the storm buffeted winds hard against the hull. He looked to the small opening and realized with the sloshes of water pouring in that it was time. Amal slowly placed the knife's strange steel along the strange Elvish manacles that held him fast, and to his amazement the medal began to erode. It was a strange feeling as some parts of the iron wore off and others held strong stubbornly for a few seconds before they too dissolved.

"Allah be merciful," He muttered as he reached for his wrists and felt along them, making sure he wasn't cut too badly. The lack of blood flow was all pins and needles, but it was better than not feeling anything at all.

"Bloody brilliant..." Sir Brenly breathed, and Amal crept his way over to the older man to help him with his shackles.

[Assistant]
Emmaline cursed herself for not having come up with some better way to time her actions with Amal, though it was hard to see what she could have done. She had remained in her prison for several hours and though the Captain hadn't visited her again, probably being too busy with his ship to sport with his captive, a guard checked in on her every so often. Each time she merely sat, glaring at them in her ersatz restraints as the storm worsened. Finally she could stand it no longer and came to her feet. Asp, still a tattoo seemed to slither down her arm, the moving ink extremely disconcerting till it settled around her wrist. She mumbled the counterspell under her breath and the restraints melted away, flowing back into the form of the elvish sword. Picking the weapon up she crept to the hatch and pushed it open, steading herself on the heaving deck as she did so. As she expected the hall beyond was clear, in weather like this she expected all hands to be aloft.

She picked a direction at random, belatedly wishing she had interrogated Asp more closely as to Amal's location. Creeping along the corridor she passed what she imagined were officers quaters and stopped in one to steal a long silken shirt to hide her nakedness. The thing wouldn't do as a disguise, or any real protection from the weather, but it offered the mental protection that clothing provided. Reaching the rear of the ship she found what must have been the officers wardroom and snagged a block of cheese from a cabinet. Hoping that Dark Elves didn't make cheese from anything particularly awful, she took a bite and found it sharp and agreeable, and a balm to her empty and now cramping stomach. The sound of wind suddenly increased and she ducked into the mess a second before a drenched elf came down a stairway, heading for her prison. She waited a moment and then stepped out behind him. The elf must have sensed the motion because he began to pivot in time to see her two handed stroke come down, the clumsy slash catching him between neck and shoulder. There was a jarring in her wrist as the razored elven blade bounced of his shoulder blade and the Elf reeled back with a gasp of pain. Emmaline delivered two more wild slashes at the crippled elf, managing to slice of an ear and gash him across the crown before she finally shove the point into his chest. Even so the elf didn't die quickly, his elegant hands scrabbling at the blade for long moments until blood gouted from his lips and he stiffened.

Without waiting to check the body she vaulted up the stairs and lifted the hatch cover every so slight. WInd and rain lashed in at her and she had a brief impression of wild rolling seas light by lightning. SHe was at the rear of the ship, below the deck where the wheel was located, if elves used such things. Along the deck she could see elves heaving at ropes and others skipping through the rigging. The second ship was visible ahead of them and off to port perhaps two hundred yards, a dark shape barely visible through the spray.

[User]
Amal wasn't entirely certain what Emmaline expected to happen; If she would appear in a puff of smoke or there would suddenly be an explosion on the opposite end of the ship. She hadn't told him to wait around either, so once he set Sir Brenly free he helped him up and made his way to the door. The old former knight rubbed his wrists and grumbled and bebothered. He might have once been a great soldier but the last decade or two spent in wealth had him mumbling at most things, from being free of Dark Elf chains to if he had gotten his supper a minute later than expected.

Amal found the elven steel door and attempted to open it, but it was locked. He cursed, knowing he would need to use the special key and knowing after that there would be no fooling any Dark Elves that attempted to come in, as there would be no lock to lock.

"Once we're out of this room, there's no turning back." Amal told the old man, who wiped his hands on his stained trousers and looked completely finished with this place.

"Let's go." He announced, and Amal found himself not question Sir Brenly anymore. He said it with such surety, he felt like what they were doing was going to work. The thief knelt down and pressed the key to the doorlock, and watched in awe as the iron fell away like black sand into the puddles of water below. Once that was accomplished, Amal grabbed the door handle and turned it slowly, not making a sound. He opened the door but a crack and peered through to see a far nicer and far drier corridor of the ship. There was no elf in sight. Just the flickering light of the lightning coming through other windows that were likely closed and sealed.

Satisfied, he opened the door and stepped through. His wet shoe crunched on the floor, puddles of water spreading on his feet. He didn't care, nor did Sir Brenly as the elder stepped out.

"Hey!" A voice rang from within. Amal spun to see a man with wild mad eyes staring at them. The thief knew immediately what he was doing. He wanted to get the approval of his masters by outing the escapees. "HEY! HELP! THEY'RE ESCAPING!!" Amal just grinned, knowing over the storm the man's plan had been flawed. Not only that, but he simply closed the door and muted the yelling to even them.

"Traitor," Brenly spat.

"Agreed." Amal said, not hesitating to begin looking in each opened door and wondering if he dared to open any of the closed ones. The ship was low in the sea but long as sloops often were. There was perhaps only one or two floors to traverse belowdecks. There was a cargo room filled with stacks of boxes and what looked like an eerily adorned messhall with malevolent iron carvings placed on the walls, showing screaming visages and torture scenes like they were things to emulate. Amal shuddered to think what would happen if they didn't get out of here soon.

A shadow was cast on the walls behind them as they reached the stairs, making the northern and southern men coiled to spring on whoever it was, only to see it was Emmaline stepping down from the high top of the stairway in nothing but a silk garment. Amal's eyes widened. Not only at the sight of her, but her bruises and cuts. "Emmaline!" He said as loud as he dared, rushing to her. One hand feeling her wrists and the other cupping her cheek, he shook his head. "I told you to comply with them..." He breathed, but was so relieved to see her he kissed her passionately in the middle of the hall.


[System]
"Broadsides" Captain Cedric D. Boone - Captain/Navigator/Marksman
Bonesword "The Mushroom Kid" - First Mate/Swordsman
"The Wolf of the Blue" Caesar Inu - Fighter
"Black Hood" Dirk Messir - Scout/Thief
"Oilburn" Slick Drake - Cook/Weapons Engineer
Lilliana Merrycure - Scientist
"Fitness" Feya Nelson - Doctor/Nutritionist
Wafer D. Kite - Shipwright

---

---

Enemies
Shrimp Brigade, Division A
The Vice's Strongest attack force
Specialize in teamwork, coordinated strikes, and ballet dancing.
First encountered in South Blue when they boarded the Rum Runner via torpedo designed for human transportation. Displayed supernatural levels of teamwork and awareness, when sufficiently injured would vanish and reappear from another member. Discovered to be one man that ate a devil fruit.
Quirks: See themselves as superheroes, protectors of the innocent, rather than bounty hunters. Have a flair for dramatic poses. Never go anywhere without theme music.

"Shrimp Brigade" Shotaro Saban
The Vice's first mate
Fifteen foot tall goliath of a man, ate the waru waru no mi, turning him into a split man.
The true form of the Shrimp Brigade, a single man that ate a devil fruit allowing him to split himself or any object he touches into multiple copies, at the cost of each copy having a fraction of the original's power/ability/intelligence/all other traits. While relatively friendly and balanced when split into the Shrimp Brigade, Shotaro Saban goes crazy with power and egomania when all together, a trait not entirely unearned. Displays insane strength and durability, once he took his "prime" form, he alone requires the entire Red Rum crew to defeat. Turned on Krabbe's crew, declaring his assault as the judgment of Justice, and that only the innocent would survive. Is ultimately defeated by the Red Rums and John Krabbe teaming up, but escapes and reveals he has other body copies out in the world.
Quirks: Sincerely believes he has the muscles of a god and that his wrath is divine judgment. Anybody he kills is justified because only the wicked can be harmed by his "godly might." Has an incredibly tiny head for his massive body. Is very self-conscious about it.

Shrimp Brigade Pink Mizu Shikihara
Cipher Pol 8 Agent
Agent of the World Government that had signed up to be part of Shotaro Saban's Shrimp Brigade, now shadowing the Rum Runner
Little is yet known of this government agent, but he is a master of disguise and expert spy, as well as proving to be extremely fast.
Quirks: Overly flirty with women. His immense pride causes him to think he's god's gift to the world, so everything he does warrants a "your welcome."

---

Allies

Bartholomew K. Runch "The Cereal Killer"
Captain of the Krunch Krew
User of the Bori Bori no Mi, the Crunch Crunch Fruit
33 million berry bounty

"Flying" Smith Smithson Smithington III
First mate of the Krunch Krew
Master of Ninja Arts

Hachirou H. Hachirou "The Beast King"
Navigator of the Krunch Krew
User of the Neko Neko no Mi: Model Lion, the Cat Cat Fruit: Lion

Wutong "Malpractice" Ken
Doctor of the Krunch Krew
Master of Drunken Boxing

Joanne Schrodinger "Trickshot Jo"
Sharpshooter of the Krunch Krew
Strong Independent Black Woman Who Don't Need No Man

---

It's Complicated
John Krabbe "The Vice"
Professional Bounty Hunter
Last captured pirate worth 25,000,000 Belli
First encountered in South Blue aboard his ship, the King Crab. Battled Red Rums to get their bounties using his customized warship the King Crab, incredibly strong and resilient, battles with both a sword and special armor with a crab claw vice. Engaged primarily with Fitness Feya until his first mate went mad with power. Battles alongside the Red Rums to defeat Shotaro Saban, losing his trademark armor and weapon in the process. After the battle, let's the pirates go without further conflict, even giving them a log pose.
Quirks: Though devious and with legitimately sound plans, always ends up accidentally telling the enemy what the plan is, either by monologuing or forgetting the microphone is still on. Frequently forgets about his claw and tries to use it for things only a normal hand can do.

[User]
Slick

Slick laughed like psychotically as he burned Blue and Green to a crisp, refusing to stop until they were shriveling up in his glorious blaze. Unfortunately they disappeared into nothingness, leaving Slick confused on whether he should be happy his fire was so hot it disintegrated them or sad that there was nothing left of his art. His face scrunched up as he looked to the only remaining Shrimp Brigade member. Hey he wasn't that big before was he?

"I am Shotaro Saban! I ate the Waru Waru no mi to become a split man! I am the Shrimp Brigade, mighty force of Justice! Behold my majesty! Shrimp Brigade Prime! Vishnu Form!" Slick stared at him with a blank expression as he processed what was happening, his lips slowly curling into a smile and his eyes filling with childish joy. This one would be much more fun to paint then the others.

Slick's eyes lit up in excitement as he completely forgot about Blue and Green, this one would burn way better than those little wimps. "Bonesword, get some plant invasion going! Slick, stop his movement with that oil! Hell, burn that pipsqueak where he stands if you won't burn my precious fur!" Caesar called out as the battle began, Slick was perched about face level with the massive Shrimp thing as he began spraying oil all over him and the battlefield. It was time to begin painting.

"Grease the food before baking to ensure maximum flavor!" He screamed as the deck of the ship was absolutely covered in oil. He loved getting to paint, painting was so much fun. There were dry patches here and there, but it would require some hopping to get from patch to patch without slipping like an idiot. Hopping that Mr. Big Shrimp couldn't do because he was too big and stupid. Slick stopped shooting oil at Mr. Big Shrimp as he pointed his flamethrower directly at his chest, relishing the sweet click the pilot light made as it lit. The world was turning red as Slick began shooting copious amounts of fire directly at Mr. Big Shrimp, trying to burn away his flesh, muscles, hair, everything must be burnt away to reveal the skeleton that was hiding inside him. Slick was an artist who needed to paint the world red. His oil was his paint but it was clear colored and needed color added to it, so he added fire for red. Red was the only color he needed really, the other crew members added in their own colours while he painted. Right now Mr. Big Shrimp's skeleton needed needed to be red, the enemy ship needed to be red, everything had no colour so Slick needed to make it all red. The world needed more color, so he was happy to make it red.

[Assistant]
Captain Cedric D. Boone - Krabbe Battle! VII

Captain Cedric watched as Violet disappeared and once again was perplexed. Even the blood went away! That's when Dirk ascended the stairs explaining to Boone his intentions.Cedric followed after him at a brisk pace. He was hearing a lot of noise including something about the "Shrimp". If his postulating was correct, the Shrimp Brigade would be above.

When Cedric arrived he was baffled to see the abomination that was the Shrimp Brigade's transformation. Boone could barely speak, "Wa-wa..WHAT IS THAT?!" He stared for a few more moments and then noticed his other crewmembers scurrying about with a plan he was unaware of.

That's when Boone sprung into action. Their captain yelled out, "I'll provide covering fire!" as he began to run towards the upper parts of the ship away from the monstrosity. After all, Slick had already started to burn the area and he didn't intend to let himself be caught ablaze. After climbing, he aimed his blunderbuss and fired a, "PIERCING SHOT!" at his opponent's head with the intention of blinding the abomination.

[User]
Fitness Feya
Suplex City

 Feya slammed into several barricades and rails. Every slam caused distress to her body. The immediate clamping onto her arm forced her to release a short grunt. Feya Fitness was not one to scream out in pain unless the damage proved incredible. So far, the damage only brought her to flinch and groan. The first few times demonstrated that she can withstand, but the bounty hunter would not tire.

 Eventually, the repetitive smashing did a number on her. The physician predicted she needed to stop this before she loses consciousness. Her skull struck the side of the rail and opened up a cut on her scalp. Blood trickled down on her albino complexion. She panted heavily as the crab man kept the onslaught. Discreetly, she started utilizing parts of her body to cushion the impacts. It lessened the damage but by only a minuscule amount.

 The woman made certain to keep her eyes open. She took the time to study her opponent. His focus remained on tiring her, but he was going to have to avert his attention elsewhere. A captain would have to keep his eyes on all factors. Something was bound to catch him up. It was then that Feya's ears opened up.

 Apparentally, Lilliana may have destroyed the ship's mast. Feya noticed the sudden conversation Krabbe initiated with his crewmate. The woman saw her moment and took action. Once Krabbe swung her body again, Feya used the momentum to slam her foot into the deck creating a hole for support. After thudding against the floor, the woman hugged the giant claw arm. She proceeded to use the strength in her arms to suplex the bounty hunter over her head as he was momentarily distracted and not expecting.

[Assistant]
Lilliana Merrycure

---

Once her punch was finished she brought a hand up to her cheek, a look of brief confusion on her face as she felt the slight wetness of a kiss left behind. The confusion became frustration in swift order, before it translated into a look of consternation as she tried to figure out the strange man before her.

"Um..." she began, but words failed her as she floundered. She stuck a hand into her mechanic's bag and began fiddling with stuff to slightly distract herself from the strangeness of what had just happened.

She was sorting her feelings.

"You know, it's not very polite to kiss a lady without her wanting you to." She said, huffing a bit, a small pout forming. She didn't like this man, he was selfish...and faster than her, which was a problem in its own way.

However, before she could say or do anything further the mast fell and her eyes widened. Just as the warrior got out of the way, so too did she, but she moved in the opposite direction and then dashed towards the cluster of cannon fodder and the man they were attacking. He seemed like a potential ally, and on top of that, it was the direction of the mechanism that controlled the rest of the ship's armor, which in its own way was also a problem.

She kept one hand in her mechanic's bag, messing around with scrap—with B-MO's assistance of course—and building something as she was wont to do. Once she'd dealt with the armor she needed to get off of this ship.

[User]
Everyone jumped into action against Shotaro Saban, or Shrimp Brigade Prime as he called himself. The hulking behemoth of a man could do nothing to prevent Slick from further spreading his oil around the ship, but now a drop hit the man himself. Two of the many arms spun the ball and chain with enough speed to produce a vacuum, blowing away all the oil that would have otherwise hit his mighty, god-like form. Instead the oil splattered around onto the growing trees that Bonesword was using in an attempt to keep him in place. Speaking of those trees, the two arms wielding spiked knuckles began tearing the treants from where they stood and tossed them overboard. He kept only one, swinging it down to interrupt Caesar's attempted slide attack. The oil-covered tree trunk met with Caesar's electro shield and caught ablaze! This only meant that the half-mink warrior was slammed in the chest by a flaming tree trunk.

The ball and chain kept swinging swinging swinging, the vacuum putting out Slick's flames before they could reach their target. Then came Boone's piercing shot! Surely that had to have caught him off guard! Nay, for the mighty split man lifted up his giant blazing club to act as a shield against the captain's specialty ammunition. How did he even know that was coming?! That's when the crew saw it. It wasn't just his arms that he had split into multiple parts. He had four pairs of eyes, lining all around his head. Full 360 degree vision. This clarity of vision didn't enlighten him as to the nature of Boone's attack however, and so he was expecting the tree trunk to stop the bullet entirely. The specialty piercing shot made it all the way through the flaming tree and struck Saban in the forehead, drawing blood. The shot was nowhere near as effective as it should have been, having lost most of its power traveling through the makeshift shield.

"Gah! Cedric D. Boone!" his voice bellowed. Saban lifted both pistol wielding arms toward the captain and fired multiple times with each gun. In the same motion he leaned forward to slam his trident down toward Bonesword. This had the unintended effect of him slipping on the copious amounts of oil spilled around the ship deck, throwing off his aim. "Waru waru Anansi form!" Two legs became eight, splitting off into an array of thin noodle-like support beams, allowing him to catch his balance and move around reliably on the slick battlefield.

---

A number of more cannon fodder charged after Kite and Lilliana, but it was clear they were no match for the two pirates. Whether it be a wrench or bio-metal punch, they were already weakened and easily knocked aside. Even the ones with guns couldn't get off a shot on the duo before being tossed aside with minimal effort.

Meanwhile, Feya's plan to catch Krabbe by surprise with a suplex was implemented perfectly. His exposed head crashed through the upper deck of his ship, leaving the lower half of his body to flail about comically. Various insults and curses could be heard muffled from below. "Captain Krabbe!" called out a sailor, concerned for the well being of his superior. He needn't have been worried, for John Krabbe freed himself with a mighty thrashing motion, tearing apart the floor restraining him, flipping in mid-air, and jumping back up to deck. Feya's attack had bloodied his face a little, as evidenced by the trickle falling over his bloodshot eye.

"Stop this fight now! My first mate Saban has recalled all of the Shrimp Brigade into his original form! Without his ego and power being distributed among multiple bodies, he'll go crazy and kill us all! We've got to work together to knock him out!"