[System]
Username: Zatoshi
Age: 15

Appearance:

Gender: Male

History: Irita's family was murdered by the empire as a child. He ran away to the mountains and was taken in by an old man that took care of him. He also trained Irita in magic and gave him his old scythe. The old man was also killed by the empire after a few years, but this time Irita managed to kill the soldiers that came after him. He's been on his own since then and is looking for a new home.

Nation: Krrstria

Weapon/Skills: He has a magic scythe that channels his magic into it and strengthens it's power slightly. He can survive very cold temperatures and is an exellent hunter.

Magic Affinity: Darkness and Fire Magic

[User] The numbers of the invading bandits got reduced by half smoothly, the odds of the battle is towards the Payon's favour. But, At the halfway point of the siege, the horses that they're riding grew black wings conjured of magic, as they started taking off to a higher height point than Payon villagers. The bandits as they went brandishing their set of revolvers and arrows, and with their height advantage, started to fire towards the villagers. Strangely, as the numbers fall, the invading cowboys seemed to get stronger and accurate consistently.

[Assistant]
"Alright~" Rammus felt a bit off when he saw him killing a bit of the villagers, but pretended to ignore at such a situation. "Ima split up too, I will get to the rooftop to have a better grasp on what the hell's going on right here~" Rammus said, climbing up the stairs to the roof. Meanwhile, the Mayor jumped out of the window and hopped onto one of the tree branches, soon disappearing from sight.

Irita's staff emitted a black oozy fire, but it drains more of his mana as a tradeoff for the enhancement.

Rammus reaches to the roof, firing his arrows towards the oncoming, gathering zombies, hitting them on their non-vital parts like legs or arms. The zombies he shot stopped to their heels and fainted on the ground, unconscious. Seems that his bow have a stunning effect, which is essential for reducing casualities... and to make him easier to shoot...

"tskk... and I almost forgot about the villagers." Rammus noticed some zombies nearby some unsuspecting villagers, including the girl he met (and ran away) just now. Shooting and stunning one of the zombies nearby Ellison, he signalled her and the other villagers to approach the safehouse. By then, hopefully, his friend would wipe out the nearby zombies to make it safe enough.

[User]
Ellison noticed all the zombies coming through the village headed for anyone with a pulse, Rammus ran up the treetop and onto a rooftop, firing arrows at zombies as he did so, there were a couple headed straight for some nearby villagers, Ellison grabbed Aesik and threw him in the direction of the incoming zombies. Aesik zipped through the zombies and cut off their heads with one clean sweep, Ellison snapped her fingers and brought Aesik back immediately giving her to time move close to some villagers cowering near a street corner.

"Everyone, move towards the safehouse!" - Ellison

Ellison, moving as she spoke; made her way across the village, dodging zombie after zombie trying to save time instead of wasting it on these dispensable creatures.

Aesik being a magical blade had the power to move through space and time, sort of. He had a more practical teleportation ability, he could use it only when and if Ellison were to call on him or snap her fingers to summon him. The magical sword gleamed with ancient power the likes of which had never been studied by even the highest of magi. She was born with the power to hold him, however she never knew until the day they met. Aesik now thinks of himself AS a sword, instead of the soul of one of the greatest warriors to live. As he is, but as time went on and again he merely forgot his past; physically. He isn't sure how exactly his soul permeates the sword gem, but it is as it is.

Time would feel slowed down to Aesik at most time, and since Ellison had the power to control him at will, she also possessed the ability to read time as he did. In a crisis this would give her more time to react. A faint voice in the not so distant distance shouted for Ellison's attention, kept on and on until she realized she had been thinking instead of fighting. People moved to and fro in the tide of living dead. The person speaking was a man Ellison had met in the shop, he was alive and assisting the fleeting villagers. A zombie was hot on the trail of Ellison and he needed to get her attention. Ellison gripped the hilt of her blade and spun on her left foot raising her right as she did, holding Aesik behind her neck ready to swipe. How graceful the fatal dance of a warrior. She spun like a dancer almost, tantalizing almost, or as a nightshade blooms. She spun on her toes behind her and flattened her feet to land on the ground once more bringing the edge of her sword through the neck of the living corpse. She aided some remaining villagers near her and grappled a pulley leading to the top of a building, a rope in front and a rope behind to lift something or someone high through the air. She threw Aesik at the rope nearest the wall, holding he counterweight above and dropping it as he sliced the threads. Ellison gripped the rope and soared through the air onto the edge of a rooftop, nearby Rammus. She snapped and Aesik returned sheathed.

[Assistant] Irita could feel his mana drain. Luckily for him, he knew an efficient way of reducing the output. Once he got outside the dorr he could see an ocean of zombies to which he grinned. He knew the perfect type of magic he'd use for this situation. e held his scythe horizontally behind him and then slashed it in front of him. A black wave of magic cut right through the villagers, making them split into two. He grinned even more at the sight of it. "So strong~" he said.

[User]
Rammus looked at the area nearby, zombies around the area are suppressed well enough, either by force or diversion.

":O its you, we meet again, midget o.o ~" Rammus stated in sarcasm. "Didn't know you're that strong O_O ~"

The uninfected villagers of the village square evacuated to the safehouse, and its a good thing that the internal conflicts have been controlled, despite the number of casualities. "Tsk... not sure what happened to the guards in midst of this shit, hope they're still alive somehow..."

@Diabolic
"Lets go check the outer area, I've a bad feeling on their side... hope it weren't wrong..." Rammus descended and suggested to the two people.
---

Meanwhile, in the village edge, dozens of horsemen charged in, towards the heart of the village, stepping through the defenders' bodies. The battle had reduced the cowboys' numbers significantly, but their skills seems to outweigh their numbers.

[Assistant] Irita nodded excitedly. He still hadn't tried all of his techniques yet, so he still needed some training with the new power he had aquired.

[User]
Rammus reached the nearby area and saw a bunch of horsemen charging in through. They aren't near enough to cause much harm though... Drawing out his bow, he reached and fired at one of the cowboys, and taking cover. He is glad that he did so because he heard echoes of gunfire with bullets hitting nearby his area. "Tskk... just what the hell is that thing... loud as fk... and doesn't seem friendly too..."

He readied his bow as he got up for a moment, releasing it as it hit one of the cowboys and knocked him out. He got back to cover from the bullets. ("Damnnit, its preloaded like a crossbow...") He thought.

At the back of the team of cowboys, was a person distinct with a silver mask, as a shadowy smoke emitted around him. ('what is that thing...?')

[Assistant] Irita ran from cover to cover, blocking the bullets with his scythe until he reached Rammus. "They're using guns. They're basically high tech crossbows with much more penetrating power. Get hit by one and it might fly straight through you." he told Rammus who seemed to be confused as to what it was.

[User]
"Alright, I got it," Rammus replied as he predrew his bow on cover, then getting up and firing at another one of the
cowboys, then drawing and firing another arrow to another one, after that, he took cover from the gunshots. "I'm getting the hang of this now, I will support & loosen the numbers from the back lines. And... you think of something, maybe using your black wave whatever magic attack~"

[Assistant] Irita smirked and stood up. They started firing at him, but he blocked the bullets with the scythe. It seemed like child's play to him as he started going towards them. They were all focusing their fire at him now so Rammus had time to attack. "Is that all you've got? I thought you were better than this~" Irita taunted the men that was firing. They almost started to look a bit worried.

[User]
The plan gone well, or it should be said, 'too well'. So smoothly as if they're actually intending to lower down their own numbers. Rammus'd got to shoot the gunmen one by one, but he felt something weird, like their overall battle power has not decreased by a bit. Its like, their magical force is increasing the lesser their numbers. ('Never mind, ima just continue shooting...') He thought.

"Stop," The masked man from the back lines of the horsemen stated with an unnatural deep voice, and the cowboys stopped immediately without delay. He walked towards the front, meeting Irita face-to-face. "I shall deal with 'them'" his dark hoarse voice echoed with a dark magical aura. "First Shadow, Black Moon." The masked man swung out a scythe which was screaming literally, sending out a strong wave of magic towards the direction of both Irita & Rammus.

('Tsk... I knew this was coming...') Rammus fired his bow at the magical blast in an attempt to intercept the magical wave. But, the masked guy seemed to be strong enough to 2v1 the defenders on equal footing, and a mere arrow of Rammus', seemed to only weaken the magical wave.

[Assistant] Irita froze at the sight of the man. He could feel that he was definatey strong. Probably stronger than the both of them... He couldn't believe that he didn't notice him earlier... The scythe he carried was not a joke either. Irita swung his own against the blck wave and managed to block it at the last second, but his hands wouldn't stop shaking after it. He couldn't look back to see if Rammus was okay since that would leave him wide open.

[User]
"Just like the gunman just now, you blocked this," The masked man guy stated untiil he looked down to see a broken arrow lying on the side, "Or I should say, both of you." The masked man held his scythe tightly, which is emitting a good amount of magic force, ready to strike at any moment. Black oozy smoke was seen around the masked man.

He leapt upwards, having the view of both Rammus & Irita, raising his scythe & making a large slash, "Second Shadow, Cresent Moon." Black magical wave oozed out of the tip of his Scythe as a large cresent shaped magical attack descended towards both Rammus & Irita.

('Shit, he's strong!') Rammus, grabbed three arrows together, placing it on his bow as he can notice the larger sap on his mana. But, it doesn't matter now from a situation like this. The three arrows hit the masked man's magical wave, clashing and neutralizing the magic attack. "NOW!" Rammus signaled Irita as the masked man seemed open to attacks. ('seems like his attack is worth three of my arrows...') He thought. The cowboys are idle, but by then its clear and obvious that they're controlled against the cowboys' will by the masked man.

[Assistant] Irita wasn't going to waste the chance that Rammus gave him. He wasn't sure that his attack would work though since this man was clearly more experienced and skilled than the both of them. He ran over to beneath him and shoved the scythe into the ground as a glowing magic circle appeared. "God of fire and light, bring forth the flame that shalt bring death to all who oppose me!" he chanted as the ground beneath him erupted in flames and headed for the man in the air. It was a 6 tier magic, so he was almost out of mana. He would probably only be able to cast one more of those big attacks.

[User]
The attack hit, as the masked man raised his hand forward to create a last-minute magic shield. It didn't work very well, for the fact that his right arm gets ripped off.

"One more arm to go heh!" Rammus let out a slight smirk over the slight success. He wasn't really expecting for all this to be over after a flashy attack, considering how capable the masked man was.

"From this point, I won't be going easy," The masked man stated, with a serious tone. "I'm one of the people who received one of the Atticus' Shadows, and once I fully merge with this shadow, my existence will burn away bit by bit, so its either you or I who shall fall from my powers."

At that moment, the masked man was no longer freefalling, he was floating in mid-air, his figure seemed to be more smoky & shadowy. "Third Shadow, Half Moon" The masked man sent out magical waves similiar to the one he previously used, but this time there are two of them, surging towards the two of them.

Rammus swiftly fired a few arrows at the magical wave that is heading towards Irita, weakening the magical wave significantly. Little did he know that there is another one which is descending right on top of him. It was too late for him to do anything, as he raised his hand in the last instinctive act as he get consumed by the blast. ('huh... I get this shyt now...') A disk was formed in front of his hand, blocking most of the blast, though exhausting him of his mana. But, for the first time, Rammus had actually casted magic.

[Assistant] Irita had no idea what the man was talking about, but he could clearly tell that he got more powerful after he stopped falling. Due to Rammus weakening the magic slash Irita could easily block it using only his scythe. But to think that the man was flying... It was going to be even harder to get him now and judging from Rammus's magic output he didn't have much mana left either... This was going to be a close fight even if they didn't die. He still had "that", but he'd rather not use it. Who knows if he would manage to regain what he lost from it?


[System]
Age: 23
Nationality: Sioux (for convenience sake)
Profession: Tribal warrior, hunter, shaman by heritage.
Apperance/Clothing:

Combat Skills: knife fighting, blind fighting, archery, wrestling, fist fighting, shooting, mounted archery.

General Skills: Riding, cooking, swimming, fishing, tent making, clothing making, skinning, plant identification, tracking, running, herbal medicine, poisons, wound care, smoking, psychic voyage/getting high.

Languages: english, sioux, small amount of other tribal languages.

Weapons: bow and arrows, large knife, bola, hand gun.

Possessions: Tribal shaman.

Personality: Nature loving, peaceful, pensive, respectful.

History: Ashtar was the first son of the tribe shaman. He learned the ways of his people but his visions told him that he must leave them for a long journey. He would like to see peace between all tribes, even white ones, and tries to generate that influence in his travels. He spent time as an ambassador when he was very young to the immigrant Europeans and learned their language. He recently lost his father to a mysterious illness, but since then his father has spoken to him in dreams, telling him to seek the walking spirits...

[User]
The wafting smoke of the saloon was merely an immediate reminder of Mark's earlier encounter. His pant legs swished softly against his bare legs, only adding to his memory of his feminine antics. A sly smile dipped and turned the corner of his mouth into a happy hook as he leant against the wall of a private booth.

 As the man stood smugly amid the clambering and chatting of gruff and dirty patrons, the faint chill of a pistol's barrel seeped through his clothes as it pressed against his back. Mark opened his palms and the gun was pushed into him, "Sit," the intruders voice commanded.

 Marks smile grew and he slid into the booth, a tall bald man with buggy eyes plopping into the opposite side, pistol in hand, and ready to fire. The doctor shook his head and folded his hands in his lap as he got comfortable, "Paul Blake."

 "Mark Twain," Paul nearly spat.

 A slim man dressed in the almost clean white shirt of a bartender stopped abruptly in front of the booth and Paul slipped the gun under the table, still aimed at Mark. The deep black pencil mustache of the tender waved as he spoke, "get you fellows anything?"

 Before Paul could tell him off Mark raised his index finger, "Vodka Martini."

 The man furrowed his brow and started to walk off. Mark patted the leaving man's elbow and he stopped. The slender man turned back to Mark and the two locked eyes. Mark nodded his words, "shaken, not stirred."

 After a long and uncomfortable stare, the tender slipped back into the crowd. Mark huffed at the encounter and turned to converse with Paul like they were long lost friends.

Before Mark could sneeze a word through the irritating saloon smoke, Paul reiterated the reason they were sitting with a scratch of his iron sight against the under of the table. Mark feigned surprise and used the momentum to wrap his fingers around a cold pistol that hid in his pocket.

 "So, I heard what you did to the gang," Paul started. Mark pointed his pistol slightly from it' pocket and he shrugged. Paul shook his head, "you never were planning on giving that necklace up where you? You might as well have jettisoned your life."

 Mark laughed, "I can pay for the loss of funds, you all can sit happily with that."

 "All? You mean me, you will give me the necklace and the money," Paul hissed behind his teeth. Mark opened his mouth in shock, :I don't have the money with me."

 "Then that's too bad," Paul chuckled a raspy breath, "you know I've been waiting to kill you for a long time now."

 Mark smiled, "yes, I'll bet you have."

 Paul's face froze as he heard a faint click of a hammer, and before his finger could squeeze the trigger, a loud bang puffed smoke from under the table and belched a bullet into his chest. The man slouched over face first onto the table with a groan.

 The other patrons looked over for a moment, but after hearing gunshots outside, their attention was quickly shifted from the man who clearly shot first, to the unknown rabble outside.

[Assistant]
Maeve had been working at the Saloon for longer than she would have liked. It isn't that she didn't like the town, on the contrary. At first glance Brogden was just another hovel in a long line of shit holes leading from civilization to wilderness, but it had grown on her. There was something about this place that attracted some *interesting* individuals, and it definitely wasn't dull. No, she was just disappointed that she had yet to attain what she came here for. She was thinking about all of this, her elbows leaned against the bar with a practiced smile on her youthful face that denoted a naivety uncommon to these parts.

She blew a somewhat curled tendril away from her face as a bottle and a couple of glasses were slid her way. She wrapped her fingers around the neck of the tequila and grabbed the glasses. She turned towards the patrons, just noticing how busy they were becoming. Other than a quick expanding of her eyes she seemed unfazed by the bustle and slipped between the roughians with a skilled bounce in her step. She dodged a chair that was swung haphazardly by a drunk while quickly glancing at what cards she could see from the poker table while turning her hip out to dodge an excited arm.

"Maeve! Maeve!" She could hear Tom beckoning from behind and turned to offer him a wink before continuing on her route. "One minute darlin'," she called back to him over her shoulder. Her voice was honey sweet and almost like a song as it floated through the noise. She heard a commotion starting outside and glanced towards the window. There was definitely something brewing. She deposited the whiskey and glasses to a table of gruff men who were laughing about something. Maeve slipped her little fingers around the closest man's lit cigarette and traded him a kiss on the cheek and an endearing squeeze of his shoulder. The man may have blushed a little, but it was hard to tell beneath his sun kissed skin.

Her hips rocked as she walked towards the window, pressing the cigarette between her lips and taking an inhale. She could make out the Sheriff now, and some others. Was that John Henley? She curled back the curtains and nestled against the window frame, dragging once again from the cigarette as she watched the events transpire outside. It was John Henley, but there seemed to be a mob, perfect. Her first honest smile of the day crossed over those lips. She had little care for the Indian they were parading about and simply saw this for what it was, a good old lynch mob. She wasn't blind to the plights of the disenfranchised. She was Irish for fuck's sake, but what could she do? Enjoy the chaos. This would be the second shooting today. Yes, Brogden was growing on her.

When she watched John Henley, her John, get shot a small gasp escaped her and she leaned her weight against the window. Not a single person seemed willing to mourn the man in the street, but for one brief moment a grave expression crossed over her features. Under her breath, in a voice distinctly crueler than the one heard earlier came a, "Son of a bitch." She tossed the cigarette to the floor and crushed it between her heel of her boot.

She didn't really care about John, not personally, but her employers cared about something in his possession. She'd been working on him for weeks, trying to get him to let it slip where it hid the money. Her next plan of action had been to threaten his family, but, now…

"Maeve!" This time it wasn't Tom, but her boss calling her out of her dark daze. She forced that smile back onto her lips and turned back towards the bar, bouncing that way as if she hadn't a care in the world. Her mind on the other hand was flickering through ideas like a Queen through jewels. One of them might work. She could get close to his friends, his family? There was a mention of a daughter. Should she start watching immediately to see if anyone slips out of town? She'd already come to the conclusion that he had buried the money somewhere to the South West. Who were John's best friends?

"The gentleman in the booth," the tender slid a drink towards her across the bar and gestured to Mark Twain. She could see some ancient bartender's guide cracked open and a slight furrow on her boss's brow and she shot him a questioning look. He shrugged. "Vodka Martini? I gave him a beer with a shot of whiskey in it. Shaken, not stirred." He smiled a little at this, obviously proud of himself. Honestly, she wasn't sure what a Martini was either, and they didn't stock vodka, so she returned his shrug and grabbed the foamy drink, heading towards the man in the booth.

It wasn't until she was about three steps away that she realized the man sitting across him was dead. Seriously? John Henley was dead and now there was a dead guy here? She'd thought she'd heard a shot earlier, but she had assumed it was some weird echo or something. 3 dead today. Her step didn't hitch a bit as she sidled up to the table and stuck a thumb towards the dead guy. "Your friend seems a little beat," she said with a sweet giggle, poking his shoulder for effect. She set the interesting drink down in front of him, leaning in and showing just enough cleavage as she bent and placed a delicate hand on his shoulder, nothing threatening. Her eyes were focused on his own and they seemed so sweet, except for a quick flash of what could have been a stern threat. It was so brief it was hard to tell for sure if it really happened. "You should take him somewhere else." She stood back up and released his shoulder all the while thinking: if I have to clean that shit up...

[User]
As the mob cried out for supposed justice and the blood of what was probably an innocent man Grace and the two men beside her stood and watched. There was nothing that any of them could do. The accusations flew, only to be cut off by the words of the sheriff. A faint smile pulled at Grace's lips, though the woman was very sure that no matter what he said blood would still be spilt. The mob was far too riled not to attempt their sick sense of justice. Just as she expected one of the many townsfolk gathered drew his gun but before he could even pull the trigger it was shot out of his hand with a bang.

Grace's brown eyes widened in shock, first looking about on the ground for the marksman responsible, but when she glance up at the saloon windows she found the suspect. It was a woman with a rifle. She didn't really put her race, which was obviously a blend between a Native American and European. What really intrigued her though was the weapon in her grip. From where she was standing she did not have a great view of the particular rifle but from the street below she could tell it was nowhere near new.

A gun could tell a lot about a person and just from the blurry glimpse at the weapon Miss Baur knew that the woman used her weapon often. Most likely she used it for her job, which could be several things, but whatever it was needed something more powerful than a simple hand pistol.

The young woman was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't even notice that the crowd, save for Johnny, was gone. All she knew was that suddenly she heard another shot ring out. Her gaze widened only for a short gasp to leave her lips. Johnny now lay in the dirt, dead as a doornail. As much as she hadn't care for the now deceased man she was still saddened by the loss of his life.

Without a word to her father or Johnathan Grace stepped out into the street. She watched as some strange man picked up the corpse and slung it over his shoulder. Grace looked over to the man who had been so wrongly treated as she approached where the three men stood. The two men she had left behind did not follow, only watching in confusion as she stepped over to the Sioux Indian.

Grace glanced away for a split second to get a good look at the other stranger, catching the quick glint of a gun on his person as well but not getting a good look at it. She quickly looked away, casting a sympathetic smile at the Indian. "Are you alright?" she inquired, facing the stranger yet not turning her back to the saloon. Part of her wondered who that mystery shooter was and if she needed any gun repairs.

[Assistant]
Ashtar couldn't believe what had happened. Now that he was safe, relatively, he used his hands to pull off the rag mouth gag and then used his teeth to get his hands free. Grace came over to him. He looked up at her brown eyes, a face framed by long brown hair, and felt so relieved at her friendly features. It somewhat surprised her when he answered in clear English, "Thank you. Yes, I am alright." He got up, facing toward the direction Angpetu had been shooting from, looking for her. "That woman saved my life. I knew the spirits did not lead me here to die." He looked back at Grace with a genuine smile, Johnathan and Mr. Baur were behind her. The sheriff was also still present, giving Cyrus a look as he picked up dead John Henley.

"I am Ashtar, Lakota. Your people call me Sioux and give me the name Dreamwalker. I did not come to steal women and rape corn. I am a friend." Ashtar looked about, ambiguous to his incorrectly quoted verbiage. He was tall for an Indian. He was only a young man, yet strong, with a smooth, aesthetic face and hair as black as the feathers entwined in his braids. He smelled of fresh air, horses, and plants. He could have been a warrior, but lacked the terrifying facial paint and demeanor. He must have had some other primary occupation.

The sheriff came over with a knowing swagger. "Young man. I believe these belong to you. Now I'm going to have to keep this here pistol, but you can have the rest of your things back. Jus' be advised to keep that bow on your back while you're in town." He leaned in with a slightly lower voice as he handed Ashtar back his knife, bow and quiver, and bolas. "It makes the whiteman get all edgy." He started walking back to his office. "If you have any questions about the law, I'll be in my office. The last thing I need is more work to do."

The native took back his things and started putting them back on his person. "Friend, you have a kind spirit to come speak to me. That is a great blessing, and it will be repaid. I wish to know your name, and also, I wish to thank this woman above who saved my life." Ashtar stood out front, in view of the saloon, amid the several people lingering about. He stared at Angpetu, making clear he knew what she had done and was waiting for her.


[System]
Age -- 13
Occupation BT -- Runty Thief
Appearance -- A short, rail-thin boy with coiled, cat-like muscles, he carries himself carefully. His eyes have that cornered, wild animal look about them.
Personality -- He's jumpy kid who doesn't speak unless spoken to, but he seemingly has a fondness for food. Like, he'll eat anything and like it. No joke. Even if it's not edible, like tree bark or something--if he can chew it, he'll try it. It will go in his mouth, no qualms.
When people talk to him first, he's fairly nice and will help them if they ask him to, though his golden rule is to keep himself fed first. He likes telling stories and is a fairly inventive writer (he can't actually write or read).
He's a very resourceful thinker and is hyper-aware of his environments.
Wepons -- Anything he can get his hands on, but his deer skinning knife seems to be the only constant in his life. He's recently acquired brass knuckles, and he likes them.
Short Bio -- His first memories are of being hungry or significantly less hungry (albeit being chased by someone he'd stolen from), and he was nameless until his fellow street dwellers noticed that despite never starting fights, he was very good at ending them with a considered swing. Life was never easy but it's become significantly harder now that there's less people to take from and, vicariously, less food in his stomach.
He more or less just started following our dear "band of idiots" around because he was hungry and didn't want to be by himself, and doesn't see the point in fighting against something that's out of your control...but if they're cool with it, he's not going to voice his opinions. He figured he would die of starvation or disease eventually, so, y'know, heck--at least he's not going out alone this way.
Other -- Speaks in Dark Sea Green. I'll hop on the soundtrack train: I. (Youth) II. (27 Years) III. (Loud Pipes) IV. (Latin Simone) V. (Nine)

Developments: A little log of things mentioned in RP, just to keep track.
* Has been with the group for a little over a year.
* Joined after being caught raiding camp.

your nuclear wepons are stupid they kind of scare me

[User]
Ved
He stepped between the two of them, glaring at Cash from behind his vizor.
"The boy doesn't need a gun, meth head."
He growled lowly, he refused to accept the possibility that Sucker would need to kill at such a young age. He was surrounded at all times by capable adults, and he personally made sure he was near the kid at all times. When he was ready to handle a gun, Ved would let him chose one from his personal armory. But until then, the only time he'd willing let him have one was for training.

[Assistant] cash once again rolled his eyes behind his shades "God dammit!!! That for the boy to decide and the reason for why i am letting him decide is because i am willing to trust him with it and that's what he needs the most is for us to trust him to make a decision so step off and let him chose"

[User]
Ambrosia liked the fact that Yuki was easy to get along with, and that Ved was always willing to lend a hand – especially when in comparison to Cash, who had taken off to who-knows-where, and Spencer, who thought it was a wise idea to make as much noise as possible when they should be laying low.

Instead of wasting time, she had sat down to inspect what she had brought back from their last trip and began divvying up the lot into individual sized portions to account for everyone's well-being (cans of soup, beef jerky, dehydrated vegetables, and bottles of water), and first aid equipment (bandages, antiseptic spray, and numbing cream for wounds). She was nearly done with it when Cash barreled back into camp with his new car, and she was about to ask Punch to come with her on her rounds to check the traps when the druggie started whipping his gun around.

"For fuck's sake..." She muttered under her breath. Honestly, he had no idea of conservation or rationality. Even if it was a joke, he pushed it too far. Ambrosia knew getting involved in the situation wasn't worth it, especially when Ved could deal with Cash more easily than anyone else here. Instead, she merely finished up divvying out the food and first aid kits, and then let out a whistle to catch their attention.

"If you're fucking done doing retarded shit, there's food and medicine here." She pointed at the brown backpacks on the ground in front of her. There was enough for each person to take one, and enough food in each to last each person at least two weeks, if they didn't waste any. "You know the rules, one each. I'll be on my rounds. You wanna come with me, Punch?" She asked, scooping up one of the backpacks for herself and strapping it to her back. She knew the kid was jumpy, and offered him an escape route out of whatever the hell Cash had planned for him.

Sanchez

[Assistant]
Ved
"And you clearly know what a kid needs, seeing how well you've done with your own life."
He growled, his fists clenching hard. He was very protective.

[User] Was he the only one here seeing the damage this was causing it was more then a gun could ever do "What i am doing here is trusting the kid to make a decision. he doesn't even have to take the gun if he don't want to. but none of you are seeing the actual damage your doing by being there to continuously to protect him. Because of this he will learn to relay on us to come and save him but we won't always be here especially not me so for once i am letting the kid decide for once"

[Assistant]
i walked behind Ven, as he walked up to Cash. watching what was going on, wondering if i should ask Cash to see if he wanted me to look at the new car, before someone put out a gun, waving it around to try and scary everyone. every time that Cash waved the gun, i keep looking at it, looking at the fine metal that it was made out of.
 "The Le Mat revolver was a .42 or .36 caliber cap & ball black powder revolver invented by Jean Alexandre Le Mat of New Orleans, which featured an unusual secondary 20 gauge smooth-bore barrel capable of firing buckshot." i mumbled to myself, loving the craftsmanship of the gun.

[User]
Ved
"I said he isn't getting a gun, not yet anyways."
 He placed his hand on his own gun, further insinuating his point.
"Now holster your weapon, and do something useful for the team. Take your new car and go collect some real supplies. If as poor of a shot as you can survive the mall, then I'm sure it's empty, and has supplies that we could use. Contribute."
 He by no means considered himself a leader of the team, that position was held by Ambrosia and he respected that, but he sure as hell knew that he was higher up the food-chain than Cash, and he also knew that he could outlast him in a shoot-off, if it ever came to that.

[Assistant]
"Punch, you need to fucking relax." Sucker frowned. The same could be said for Cash, but he didn't say that. If he had to guess, the author was coming to terms with himself and Sucker wasn't going to judge him harshly for it--he was just thankful he'd put the gun away.

The offer of a firearm floored him, and he stared at the other, conflicted, until Ved stepped between the two of them. Being the subject of one of the thousands of arguments that went down between Ved and Cash wasn't how he'd like to spending his afternoon, but it gave him a chance to think on the offer.

The answer was no, he knew that right away. And it wasn't that he didn't appreciate the sentiment.

First, if he did accept, he'd be causing more conflict with the group than what a long-range weapon was worth. He would be de-facto siding with Cash on this issue if he said yes, and being ever the neutral party (say it with me now: 'I am Sweden. I am Sweden.') Sucker didn't take sides. Moreover, Ved made it clear that the concept of Sucker having a gun would bother him, and he didn't know if that thought carried over to the others. Having a dangerous weapon wasn't as important to him as keeping the peace.

Second, it wouldn't solve the issue Cash was trying to address. While Sucker was shocked and slightly touched that Cash had perceived some of his hurt feelings, (not that Cash wasn't smart, but he lacked...tact, and wasn't much of a team player), another weapon wasn't going to work as a magic pill to fix everything he'd internalized over the years. If Sucker had really wanted a gun, he would've been able to find one. He wasn't exactly sure what he wanted, but an easy fix would be more simply--something to do.

Thirdly, and most importantly: he didn't like using firearms. They brought back memories he didn't ever intend to relive, if he could avoid it.

He watched on, helpless in this affair, as the adults verbally sparred with each other. He shrugged his apology to Cash.

"You know the rules, one each. I'll be on my rounds. You wanna come with me, Punch?" Amber, God bless her soul, met hell in the form of being argued over with food and salvation. Giving the backpacks of precious food a quick once-over, he turned and gave her a grateful look and nodded.

"And you clearly know what a kid needs, seeing how well you've done with your own life."

And on that happy note, he winced, turned heel, and walked away.

@Billsomething

[User] "I brought five first aid cases with me back that is more then you have done in this entire day you Uneducated brute and there go acting high and mighty because of that armor of yours. but here the thing i know a lot of things about you and the thing i know they are Bad things. But understand what i was trying to do doing was trying to make the kid understand that i would trust him with a gun and it seems like i would be the only one to do so" said cash having given up on trying to reason with the brute. so he walked into his tent but not before pushing the sawed off into Yuki's arms "keep it, take it apart, i don't care Go Nuts also there should be magazine that i think you would enjoy in the trunk of my car"

[Assistant]
i looked up at Cash, with glimmer eyes, thinking that it was my birthday, when i saw Cash drop the gun into the arms. hearing Cash say

nodding my head like crazy, before running towards the trunk to look for the magazine.

[User]
Ved
 He was starting to lose his normal sense of calm and began to raise his automated voice, starting from a casual to tone to yelling.
"Right, Right, because maintaining our only reliable form of transportation is so much less valuable than collecting a handful of half-empty and expired first-aid kits. Here, maybe I should Kiss the ground were you walk as well, perhaps that will satisfy you? I mean c'mon, my only form of pleasure comes from serving your drug-addled cracker ass!"
 He roared after him, then pulling his rifle from it's holster on his back, he turned on his heel and walked in the opposite of the camp.
"If anybody needs me, I'll be on patrol."
 He growled lowly, waiting until he was out of earshot to begin a long stream of profanities. Before he became a merc, he had been in the Navy seals, and like all other sailors he had a mouth on him.

[Assistant]
i got to the truck and looked through the stuff and found the magazine around some old clothes and items that were left in the truck. holding the magazine and thinking of ways i can use the metal. "i might melt it... no.... maybe make a weapon... no that doesn't work!" i mumbled to myself, walking around in circle, thinking of ways to work with the metal. when i saw Ven leave the area shouting a long stream of profanities. i looked over to sucker and amber and thought of an idea.
"Sucker, Amber!!" i yelled for the first time in my life, maybe surprising everyone and hoping that they didn't leave yet.

Sanchez@Aphelion

[User]
He looked on worriedly as Ved stormed away from the drug tycoon. The last outburst (some parts of which would have been hilarious, if not for the volume) was uncouth but not unprecedented, which meant that he wasn't doing too well if Sucker had to guess. Why did it have to be like this?

On a larger picture, what Cash said didn't matter. It had been an offer that he would've turned down, especially if Ved or Amber or Spencer asked him to. No harm done. Knowing he was overlooking something in that exchange, the thief chewed his lip, unsure of how to articulate what he wanted to say without agitating his elder further. Cash said stupid shit all the time, what was the difference?

"If anybody needs me, I'll be on patrol."

"But--" Ved was gone. He looked back as Cash retreated into his tent, giving an excited Yuki the same firearm he'd offered the boy earlier (and he was happy for her, but Cash didn't look 100% either and that occupied his mind a little more), and then back to where Ved had disappeared when he caught a faint word on the wind that he wouldn't usually repeat unless he was hurt or furious.

The situation made him feel nauseous between the gun waving and the familiarity of it. Yes, arguments within the group broke out frequently and in varying levels of emotion, but there was something about this one that gave him a feeling of Déjà vu--something very old, before he'd been caught raiding their camp and adopted as 'team kid', before heated gang fights and rough play-fighting and stealing money from old biddies, long before any of that.

He ran a hand through his dark, choppily cut hair and kneeled down to rummage through a knapsack, finding that even the bits of actual human sustenance did little to quell his anxiety. Maybe when they were on the move, Amber would have more insight into 'What the Fuck Just Happened' and would share some of her wisdom.

He turned when Yuki shouted their names. "Huh?"


[System]
Appearance: Standing at a little over 5'11" (though he'll snap at you if you claim he's any less than 6 feet) and weighing in at about 140 pounds, Max has a lean, but not quite physically ideal, build. His face still looks relatively boyish for his age, accentuated by the implied immaturity of his persistently messy ash brown hair. His eyes might've once been a lively and piercing blue, but now they're subdued by the empty blankness of his stare; as if passion had been drained out of him entirely aside from the occasional glint of anger or sadness. He typically adorns his attire with some form of metal, if not outright armor, due to the nature of his magical affinity, and favors catalysts or casting implements that that cling to his person without fear of being disarmed or stolen in a fight.

Age: 19

Gender: Male

Element: Metal

Personality: In a word: bitter. Bitter at vampires for forcing him into what he sees as slavery. Bitter at humanity for allowing themselves to be collectively held hostage in order to control mages. Bitter at other mages for not rising up against their vampiric masters in spite of the cost. He maintains an air of cool politeness when decorum demands such, but can be quite irritable otherwise and rarely hesitates to take verbal jabs at others. When regarding vampires, his demeanor ranges from guarded, but amiable, to as outright hostile as he can feasibly act in such a scenario; depending on the attitude of the vampire in question. In general, however, he's rather sullen and resigned to his fate; any outrage he may have once felt is now dulled a quiet seething. As such, his bark is generally worse than his bite, and though he may complain, he's still willing to play the role of obediant vampire slave for lack of another option. Ironically enough, his detest for weakness pushes him to excel in that role as much as possible, despite it benefitting his oppressors.

Bio: Max grew up an only child within the territory of a highly traditionalist vampire noble, and as such spent his childhood in fear of being drunk like a juice pouch in the night. He'd witnessed the brutal exsanguination of people in his hometown written off as an unfortunate accident many times throughout his life, with the ruling count and his vassals rarely facing any sort of formal punishment for their sport hunting. In his hotheaded teenage years, once he was old enough to understand what was happening, Max was utterly appalled by the state of society and frequently argued with his parents' assertions of "That's just the way things are". Gradually, he grew to resent what he perceived as their weakness for not taking a stand; an animosity that eventually extended to almost the entire human race. Upon his Awakening, he was elated; magic was a power that could oppose and even kill vampires. Naturally, this delusion of grandeur was ended quickly by the reality of being a mage - a glorified piece of cattle for some upstart vampire to order around and drink from. Recently, he set his sights on Noila Academy in pursuit of magical instruction, believing that the accumulation of power is paramount if he's to cling to any hope of having freedom.

Sexual Orientation: Homosexual

Likes: Long walks in the sunlight (if only out of spite), Advancing his magical abilities, Bluntness, Defiance of authority, Sleeping

Dislikes: Weakness in himself or others, Vampires (as a whole - his opinions on individuals are subject to case-by-case decisions), Overly-fake people, Restrictions on his actions

Habits:
* Has a tendency to be rude whenever he can get away with it (and when he can't, albeit the rudeness is usually veiled a bit in those cases), even to people that would generally be undeserving of such an attitude.
* Generally punctual and attentive, despite a feigned dismissive demeanor.
* Avoids eye contact with vampires on principle, out of fear of hypnotism rather than submission or awkwardness.

Other:
Text Color: 8585ad

[User]
---

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---

Interacting with:@ReusableSword

Salem wanted nothing more than to roll his eyes and sarcastically answer back at Victor. But he was tired, exhausted, and didn't want to deal with what the repercussions for the remainder of the walk back. Instead he opted for silence, looking ahead to ensure he didn't accidentally run them into a tree or miss out on a sign. His only response was him nodding to let Victor know he had heard him and agreed that this was the best way to proceed forward. Thankfully the walk seemed to be the easiest task out of the entire night. A clearly laid out path, no obstacles anywhere in sight, it felt as though Salem could finally relax. He hardly noticed the silence of the creatures in the forest, the absence of sound, until the air became still and he started to get an unnerving feeling on the back of his neck.

He began to focus off of his sight and started to listen for any other mages that may of been lurking around them. Only to find complete silence, the world seemed to disappear for a moment until a sound broke through the tension. A soft patting behind them, the sound of a hot breath directly above the pair of them as a gutters growl began. It wreaked of rot and decay, making Salem want to gag. He'd smelled putrid scents before, both from flowers and infectious wounds, but this...this was different entirely. The prickly feeling against his neck was now sharp as something ran across it. It sent shivers down his spine and only reinforced the notion that he needed to keep his head straight. He'd watched enough horror movies to know that shit always became too real when the protagonist decided to look towards the killer, acknowledging it.

Before he could say anything, do anything, Victor spoke. It was clear that the pair of them were sensing the same thing. He spoke about his training in ignoring his instincts and how they should belittle the stalker behind them. For a moment there he thought Victor had hine mad, that giving the beast any attention might doom them both, but what he said next broke Salem. It started as a small chuckle. Slight, barely noticeable. Then another, and another until he was fully laughing. He wasn't aware Victor had such humor and honestly it was needed at this time. Salem had to admit that he was shocked to not only find this side of Victor, but to have actually gotten a compliment as well. The idea that anyone would rather have him over a Starag was baffling, but comforting. "I think Aaron here's run out of tricks for his Master. Opting the hunting route in hopes to please him with a treasure. Its a shame that the only real treasure would be if Aaron found himself a soul to go with that obedience of his. Or did you finally put on some glasses and see life for the first time Aaron? Honestly its a wondered you've gone this long being blind. But really, you two deserve each other. After all Varis hasn't been able to out maneuver the Astorios for ages and you'll never be able to out maneuver me."

As soon as they broke the tree line and saw Ryner, Salem squinted his eyes. Wondering if this was truly her or another illusion just playing face. He decided he couldn't care any less. He managed a small heh towards the princess, attempting to clamour off of Victor and land on the ground. His body still felt shaky and weak, his legs trembling beneath him as he stood, threatening to collapse, but he turned to Victor with a smile. "We did it. Now let's turn those tokens in and head home. I think I've had my fill of forests for today." Part of Salem wondered if his training would also be excused tomorrow or if he would need to get up and exercise in his weakened state.

[Assistant]
Oh to be young and spirited, how Ben envied mortal youth. At the very least they were now on the same page even if he would have much preferred to go first. As long as the tunnel would not shake or surprise him with anymore terrible noises he was sure that getting through would be of little issue. Of course he would be the first to admit that he did not find the inconvenient pains on his knees as he crawled; no matter if he was on his hands and knees or on his elbows it was as if the pebbles themselves intentionally looked to irritate him with every inch he moved. Inconvenient, but this must be a sure sign that we are going in the right direction, he thought.

He made little show of his relief but focused more on their surroundings. He was so sure they would encounter the person sobbing but no one was to be found. How curious. He took a moment to focus his hearing and attempted to filter out the sound of the roaring waterfalls to see if he could catch the crying once again. Fate smiled on him as he swore he could hear it in the distance.

"I still hear the woman sobbing," He said. "This time, we will stick together. Part the waterfall and we will see if there is more to this; the koi was a red herring, and I am not convinced this cat is what we have come here to find."

There was the possibility that he was wrong and after seeing the previous trap that had gotten Lilie, he believed staying together would benefit them more just in case. If the woman was another trick then the cat was likely what was needed to continue, but he was sure it would not be going anywhere. It simply seemed too obvious to be what they were looking for but they could always turn around and grab it if need be. The reassurance of unity would likely help his mage as well; they would keep a clear mind together. He decided to wait for Lilie to open the path for them.

[User]
---

---

Bashful was not a word in Eris' vocabulary. What did that even mean, anyway? Okay, he knew the dictionary definition but that wasn't what he was trying to say. Eris was just feeling a little weird and reluctant to admit things, and maybe he was a little vulnerable right now, but bashful? Really? Was he? This was just one of the strangest nights in his life, further cemented when he dared himself to look at Max and was met with a weird sort of grimace. Buddy, no need to look at him all weird, Eris was mighty tempted to jump back in the shower and scrub himself clean of this feeling.

Honestly he was tempted to just laugh it off and say it was some sort of joke, but the thought made Eris tired. Well, he was already tired. Maybe he was just tired. Keeping a neutral expression, he gave Max a dismissive wave. "As much as you barely tolerate the minimum interaction thing we have going on, I need to know this sort of thing," No games, no lying, just a straightforward response. That wasn't weird, right? Right. "Investing in your future and developing you as I see fit means I need to know the paths and decisions you decide to make. Since, you know, it'll look real weird if I lend you out to someone promising them you can make something in gold and instead you're better suited for skewering someone."

Not that the kid cared about anything like that, of course, but it wasn't about what he wanted, it was about what Eris wanted. And Eris wants to make sure to never embarrass himself in front of anyone important--bad enough that Sunny knew more than he did, but he'd be damned if he wouldn't do his best to change that. Besides, it would get Ismene off his back for not 'trying enough' and 'alienating him' or whatever the hell her last complaint was.

Of course, even he recognized that Max had zero incentive to do as instructed, so Eris decided to add, "And that entails all the goodies: extra tutoring, better magical items, connections with higher learning institutes..." He shrugged, rubbing his sore shoulder. "And whatever else. I mean, I guess if you chose not to say anything I can just annoy the shit out of you until you give me what I want, but that sounds like too much work and I have better things to do."

And now to address the weird thought. "The only reason I'm even bringing any of this up is because the whole point of the practical was to bring vampire and mage closer together," He stated, almost huffing as he rolled his eyes. "I'm not being weird. Everything I said was perfectly valid." He couldn't help but mutter the second half, feeling like he was trying to justify it more to himself than Max.

---

Blah blah blahing with @Scribe of Thoth

[Assistant]
Max's confusion only deepened along with his frown. Eris was being so hot and cold here; if it was pure pragmatism motivating him, he could throw Ryner's 'get along' sentiment out the window. But Eris also apparently wasn't 'nice'. Whatever his game was here, the mage didn't get it. A stream of consciousness approach was his best bet; the vampire desperately grasped for material leverage to hold over him, realized pretentious magic tutors were a poor way to buy loyalty in the information age, dropped that idea out of futility, and stooped to weird emotional blackmail. Which... the vampire should know better than to try. So... the only alternative was this was a giant cope after Eris tried to be nice and failed.

But Eris apparently wasn't 'nice'.

And honestly? Max believed him, but that still left the question of what the fuck was happening here open.

"I can't know what you want me to tell you without you asking, you know," Max grumbled, ignoring his earlier train of thought, "This might be news to you, but there is a pretty significant gray area between annoying the piss out of someone and not interacting with them at all." In all fairness, that gray area probably wasn't very big with Eris involved, and it was even smaller with Max in the picture, but it did exist.

"Unless you want me bothering you with inane bullshit everytime I figure out a new way to levitate a spoon, you're just gonna have to double-check with me before you start whoring me out for favors." Honestly, this guy had the audacity to act like ordering someone else to go work was the more difficult side of the exchange. Not to mention, Max had no idea what magical parlor tricks vampires found useful. Skewering rivals was a no-brainer - Eris should've been well aware he'd figure out that one pretty quick - but that type of thing didn't exactly happen every day, and after that, what was he supposed to do? Fix jewelry? Adjust chandeliers?

"A terrible inconvenience for you, I know," He tacked on drolly with a roll of his eyes.


[System]
Appearance:

Alternate View

Unmasked

Gender: Male

Race: Caucasian

Nationality: American-Italian

Age: ?? Looks to be early 30s

Occupation: Bounty Hunter/Enforcer

Family: The Valentino (Crime) Family - Based out of New York, the Valentino family is a well established and wealthy family that is looking to spread it's influence out west. Though such expansion was to be made with proper investments and time, an unfortunate internal dispute has led them to send one of their own out west.

Horse: Brutus (also included in picture)

Possessions: Pair of army colt revolvers, European longsword, Winchester Rifle, Double-barreled Shotgun

Skills:

Gunslinger: While skilled at long range shooting, Achille has a preference for more medium-close range combat, preferring his duel use of revolvers where his supernatural accuracy is displayed with ruthless efficiency.

Hand to hand combat: With advantages in strength and speed over normal humans along with decades of experience in combat, Achille is a formidable combatant.

Hunter/Tracker: With his supernatural abilities and natural experience, Achille can track animals/targets accurately through a combination of his eyes, sense of smell and hearing.

Personality: A family man at heart, Achille's whole life revolves around serving the Valentino family. Naturally the Valentino strive themselves to be honorable and discreet, traits that have passed on to Achille. However like all Valentinos, Achille is a natural fighter as in his world, those who are unable to defend themselves against the family's many enemies don't live very long. While Achille tends to be merciful and at times generous to the downtrodden, (the poor, sick, children) make no mistake... enemies of this Valentine will have to live with eyes over their back for as long as they live, knowing they will be hunted to the ends of the earth.

Likes: Fighting, clean kills, travelling, enjoying a good story and the occasional party

Dislikes: Those without honor, Those who would abuse the downtrodden. Not particularly fond of gambling (he never bothers to play) and alcohol.

Backstory: Simply put Achille Valentino is an esteemed enforcer for a renowned vampire family out east. After years of dominating the Italian peninsula, the Valentino family has made the grand migration towards the United States to begin anew. Over the years the Valentino family has accumulated vast wealth and incredible influence in in the New York City area. It is during this rise to power that Achille earned his reputation as being a formidable asset to the family. To achieve such wealth and prestige however comes at a cost... the Valentino family has many enemies, both of the supernatural and regular mortal kind.

Recently, a member of the family consumed with greed, killed several prominent family members as well as stealing a sizable piece of the family fortune. In response, Achille was given the task to hunt down this renegade. It's been several years and the hunt has taken Achille to the wild west. To fit in in this new frontier, Achille has ditched his formal clothing and adopted the typical look of a western gunslinger. To keep his presence a secret, Achille rarely stays in one place for too long and only undertakes quick bounty hunting missions or acting as hired gun wherever he goes in exchange for information on the run-away renegade.

Preferring to travel at night, Achille comes across Longwater hearing after stories of supernatural beings starting to turn up more frequently at the town in the hopes that his target is nearby..

[User]
Location: Just Outside Saloon | Interaction: @Silentfeather@DragonofTheWest

 Jack responded to Kira's request for companionship with a subtle upward nod, beckoning her forward. As she caught up with him just outside, she inquired about the identity of the grave tamperer.

 "Couldn't tell ya," he admitted, his words sounding out in an exhale of smoke. "I haven't been here for too long. Only got a general feel for the place and the folks in it. Seems like the flavor of degenerate that would mess with a grave would be akin to either a batshit crazy loon, some down-on-his luck loser looking for a score, or... I dunno... Maybe something else." The sort of notion certainly forced Jack to look at the people around him with a little more scrutiny. At best, there was some low talent thieving bottom feeder among them. He'd have to keep a close eye on his billfold and always keep his back toward a corner. At worst, there was an unpredictable deviant in town, in which case Jack need only to keep his gun loaded and his hand near the holster. His curiosity was laced with excitement. Alas, he tried to maintain his poker face.

 "I could do well with some company," Jack stated, allowing his eyes to lock onto Kira's for but a moment. She was attractive, bold and direct. In Jack's circles, someone like that could prove very useful. Business aside, she was certainly an upgrade from the last woman he spent any time with. This could be fun.

 "Do you speak from experience?" The peculiar man's voice seized Jack's attention as he approached, no doubt overhearing his hypothesis on the crime.

 "Not directly," he said back casually. "But what else would any sane individual get outta foolin' with dead bodies?" The odd man's attention then moved onto his newly acquired companion before offering her a question as well. His eyes continued to scan this masked enigma. He simply couldn't decide how to read him. He was requesting friendship, but also information, all while armed and anonymous. Jack couldn't shake the eerie vibe he was getting, but decided to mute his concern for now.

[Assistant]
(Addressing: @DragonofTheWest @RedXIII @Silentfeather)

Christina stayed in the graveyard sometime after others had left. Seeing that even the Sheriff has no idea what happened here and why was just too much for her to handle. If the authorities could not even fathom such a crime, how were they going to solve it?

Old bones. Christina was furious when she remembered his words. Her mother was no 'old bones'. She was a healer who has done a lot of good for the town and her body didn't deserve to be disgraced in this way. Young girl forbade herself from imagining what someone would possibly do with so many corpses, but thoughts of old stories still kept creeping into her mind. Graverobbers would take valuables but would have no use for bodies. There were other tales about beings not quite from this world - folks around the campfires whispered about ghouls, walking dead, or strange winged creatures, the natives passed stories about the mysterious Wendigo, but Christina had always dismissed them as fantasies without any real base.

She couldn't stay on the defiled graveyard any longer, so she jumped on Betsie and rode back to town, heading straight for the Lone Heart. As she was tying her horse outside, her gaze fell on some strange people talking on the front porch. Newcomers weren't any rare sight in Longwater, for most the town was just an overnight stop on their way from east to west (or vice versa), but in the current situation, people were looking at strangers more carefully. Could any of these strange figures be the wanted culprit?

The door swung smoothly as she entered the saloon. She was not a frequent visitor there, in fact, this was the first time she came in as a customer. Climbing on one of the barstools, she nodded at the bartender. "Pour me a glass."

He looked at her with doubt. "Hun' are you sure? You should go home."

Of course, he knew her, probably ever since she was a baby. "Give me a glass of something or I'll tell everyone why do you keep scratching your crotch," she hissed at him quietly and he obliged. Being a healer meant she had to keep a lot of secrets, but this was the first time she used them against anyone. She was definitely not her usual cheery and positive self. "I'm sorry," she mumbled as he handed her the drink. The barman just tapped her shoulder and moved to serve other patrons.

The liquid in the glass looked like water, but sure as hell didn't smell like it. Christina drank it all at once, trying not to cough as it burned its way through her throat and stomach, forcing tears into her eyes. Dead God, why the hell does anyone drink this? A few coins landed on the counter and she left the saloon, deciding that drinking is not an acceptable way to forget about her troubles. She leaned against the railing outside, waiting for her stomach to calm.

"What do you think there is to know about the town?" she asked a tall stranger. All covered in black, the only visible part of his body were his eyes - definitely a suspicious fellow. "It's a normal town like any other. People live their normal lives here, working hard to provide for their families. A lot of strangers pass through, but until now we haven't had any bigger troubles than a few drunken fights and one or two armed robberies. Sure, drunken folks tell strange stories, but who would listen to them?" she shrugged.

"If you are looking for friends though, you might have a hard time. People here don't trust strangers easily." She curiously looked at the other two fellows, a handsome guy and an enchantingly beautiful lady in a gorgeous dress.

[User]
Colm had stepped into the Sheriff's office. Ah, good. He's in. He listened carefully to the mans' statement, and straightened himself up, as if he was standing in formation. Some things never leave ya, do they, boyo? "Private Colm MacPherson, formerly of the 88th New York Regiment of The Irish Brigade; also-" He hesitated. He felt himself about to choke on his words, and decided against mentioning having anything to do with General Sherman. "Also, a brief stint on the frontier, sir." There, not really a lie, than, is it? "Newly arrived, newly retired, and eager to offer my services in light of the current crisis, sir!"

 He paused, and looked confused as he realized he was saluting, as if he really was speaking to an officer of the army... He forced himself to put his arm down. "If'n y'll accept me help, sir- Sheriff, sir..." He squeezed his eyes shut tight with frustration- Jaysus, Mary 'n Joseph, at least oi've got a couple a good drinks in me, lest the man see me with the shakes...

[Assistant]
Kira smiled wide once again as she was accepted by sexy, handsome Jack, joining him in the searching for any clues in the strange grave robber. She could sense many saddened humans nearby but she knew that it was because of the snatching of the bodies of their loved ones. She searched graves, trying her very hardest to not move anything to disturb the resting place of the such hollow vessels that were grabbed.

She looked at Christina, the woman who was leaning against the railing, emmotionally sensing her sadness. She may have been able to do that since she was born but she kept that secret to herself. "Jack and me here are friends, what brings you to the saloon? young one?" She asked, not wanting to be too into the mysterious woman's business but just making small talk. "Even here you can find friends, you just have to find where to look and be patient." She smiled once more, trying to cheer up the depressed woman who seemed down in the dumps.

She sighed as her search came up empty like the holes in the graveyard, arising to her heels, dusting her dress off. She walked over to Jack, asking him the same question she had in her own head. "Find anything yet .. hmm .. this is strange?" She adjusted the bright red rose in her hair, the sun making her skin glow like a thousand crystal diamonds. Her bright blue eyes becoming of a bright blue that shined beneath it's rays. Being a vampire had it's perks, perks like being enchantingly beautiful through the ages and never aging a single day.

She wanted nothing more than to solve the grave robberies and put this whole thing to a permanent rest once and for all.

[User]
"Private?" Josh said, crossing his arms. Colm looked a little old to be a private, but if he managed to make it all the way to retirement, then he was likely a very good soldier. Still, he looked a little shaky.

"Look, friend. I'm sure you're very qualified, but this looks like simple grave-robbery. In spite of the odd circumstances, anyway. If it gets worse, I'll be sure to-" said Josh before he was cut off by a scream. Then another. Then a dozen more.

The Sheriff instinctually reached for his shotgun and made sure it was loaded before running outside past Colm. "We will discuss this later!" he yelled back to the old soldier.
------

Standing tall at the far end of town, past the saloons and underneath the shadow of a massive water tower, were a horde of the dead. Still dressed in their Sunday best, they unmoving throng were still familiar to those residents of Longwater who remembered them. At their head, pacing back and forth, was a tall man in a long black duster. On his hip sat an old Colt that still looked dangerous in spite of it's rust.

When Josh pushed his way pass the onlookers, he leveled his shotgun at the man and the mass of corpses behind him. The Sheriff tried to call out, demand an explanation, but found his throat to be completely dry. All he could do was stare in horror at the impossible sight laid out before him.

[Assistant]
As the small group conversed amongst themselves, Achille's gaze intensified immediately. There was something in the air, there was no question about it. With his abilities weakened, the bounty hunter had no choice but to expose his face to get a better read on his suspicions. Raising a gloved hand, Achille lowered his bandana revealing his clean shaven, square jawed face. It was almost anti dramatic that for an individual to be so covered up have no spectacular secrets. There were no scars, tattoos, odd markings... nothing that adorned his face. Yet in the most subtle of expressions, Achille grimaced briefly as the sun kissed the parts of his exposed, pale face. After taking a moment to compose himself, Achille smelled the air... his suspicions confirmed. Turning his head towards the direction of the smell, Achille watched the undead horde make itself known to the town.

Running past the crowd, Achille took note of what appeared to be the sheriff rushing towards the undead, prepared to engage the horde. "I suppose if any of you can wield a weapon, might as well make yourself useful. If not... it's probably best you run now." The bounty hunter stated bluntly as he stepped away from the group. Walking towards where he had hitched his muscular, breton horse Achille grabbed the repeater riffle that was attached to a hoister on the horse's saddle with one hand, while placing his other hand on his gun belt which housed his two ornate revolvers.

Taking measured steps, his eyes fixated on the horde, Achille placed himself alongside the sheriff, his tone drifting between a serious, and sarcastic measure. "Judging from that look on your face, I'm guessing introductions can wait. I hope you don't freeze on me if this goes south.".Prepping his trigger finger, Achille's eyes zoomed in the individual who appeared to be leading the horde, his stance ready for whatever was to come.


[System]
Gender: Male

Age: 20

Species: Saiyan

Power Level: 17,500

Aura/Ki color: Purple

Appearance:

Personality: In terms of personality, Wolf is devout saiyan warrior, willing to give his life to protect his brethren should the situation present itself. In the heat of battle he shows a ferocity that'd rival that of Vegeta's, demonstrating a level of aggression typical of saiyan men. Though he is usually calm and mild-mannered, though the permanent expression of anger on his face makes him unapproachable.

Abilities/Techniques: Nothing really special except for an attack similar to Bardock's Saiyan Spirit attack in xenoverse.
Equipment: Just his armor of course

Weaponry: nothing conventional

History: Wolf is one of the last remaining saiyan warriors of planet Vegeta, having served under the prince's mantle alongside Kaddish, Nappa and Kental, all of them soon to become the elite saiyan warriors they were destined to become. Their missions would lead them from one planet to the next, exterminating whole races until finally their next mission was to invade earth.

Other:
Team Three Star

Name: Kental

Gender: Male

Age: 22

Species: Saiyan

Power Level: 12,300

Aura/Ki color: Orange

Appearance:

Personality: Kental is a saiyan warrior whose bloodlust in never sated, always looking to fight and overpower his opponents with swift, powerful attacks.

Abilities/Techniques: Oozaru's Fang- Kental forms deadly blades around his hand much like Salza's hand blade.
Equipment: His armor

Weaponry: none

History: Kental was third in command in the order of the ranks, going from Vegeta, to Wolf, to himself, Nappa, then lastly Kaddish. Upon recieving word that Raditz failed his mission thanks to his scouter's transmission, the next task was to take earth and combat whatever opposition they'd face.
Other:

Name: Kaddish

Gender: Female

Age: 20

Species: Saiyan

Power Level: 3,800

Aura/Ki color: Sky Blue

Appearance:

Personality: Kaddish is a bit different when you take her into consideration of the saiyans she fights alongside, she seems to hold a genuine fondness of children, especially being that she is unable to bear any. Her constant display of emotion often angers her superiors in addition to her weakness.

Abilities/Techniques: Blitz Barrage- Kaddish moves toward her opponent at a dizzying pace, knocking them to the ground and aims her palm down at them to create the effect of what you see in the image above.
Equipment: Armor

Weaponry: nope

History: (I'll keep this to be revealed in RP

Other:

Team Three Star!
WIP c:

[User]
---

Shadrok

Location: Gohan's Training Grounds
Status: Ready to fight, seemingly irritated....

@Stryder

---

Before the saiyans arrived to their location, a few seconds after the shockwave of Nappa's attack sent gusts of wind past them. Shadrok spoke. Stern was his voice, quickly spoken were his words.

"My name is Shadrok. I am no scout, nor do I know how I got to this planet. Looking at the current events time for discussions are over."

Right as Shadrok spoke the words 'time for discussions are over.' Wolf entered sight. Eyes widened ever so weakly, this individual had a possessed a dark or intense energy/power. Brow furrows while speaking.

"What is this planet called."

Were the last words which Shadrok spoke. Tone almost sounds aggressive, frown would of been visible, if not for the scarf covering the bottom half of his face/chin. Focus was on Wolf and Piccolo. Trying to stay on guard for whatever may unfold.....

[Assistant]
Vegeta & Nappa
Above Gohan's Training Grounds

As Wolf descended to meet with the trio down below, Vegeta stopped his flight and watched. Nappa was about to go down and join Wolf but was stopped when Vegeta held out his hand.

"hold up, everyone stop..."

Vegeta ordered Nappa, Kental and Kaddish before he crossed his arms, a light grin on his lips as he watched down below.

"huh? what's the matter?"

"I'm intrigued, it is rare for Wolf to act without orders, I would like to see what he's up to"

The Prince said before he opened his scouter's comm. line to Wolf's so he'd hear what was being said. There they waited hidden in the clouds as they watched below.

[minutes before the Saiyans arrived over Gohan's Training Grounds]

Yamcha

Yamcha finishes putting on a boot before he shoots up, standing strait with slight worry, looking in the direction of the Saiyans.

"here they come, man they're are moving fast, I better hurry if I want to get there in time!"

He quickly takes to the sky and begins heading towards Gohan's Training grounds, where he senses the Saiyans powers closing in on three others, which he assumes two of which belong to Piccolo and Gohan.

Krillin

Krillin just finishes putting on his Gi top before looking where he senses the power of the saiyans.

"they're heading in the direction of those other three big powers, that must be Piccolo and Gohan but who's with them..."

Krillin asked himself before he shook his head, focusing on getting ready for battle as he blasts off towards Gohan and Piccolo.

Tien & Chiaotzu

Both Chiaotzu and Tien are speed across a desert as the head towards the Saiyans power signatures.

"Chiaotzu, go find a safe place to hind okay?"

"No way!, I'm coming too! I didn't train all year for nothing!"

Tien reluctantly nodded before looking ahead with a small smile.

Piccolo & Gohan
Gohan's Training Grounds
Of Mana@Stryder

Piccolo had lightly glared at Shadrok as he listened, only to have his attention ripped from Shadrok as Wolf landed near them, seeing the familiar looking armor and the tail that was exposed as a belt, Piccolo knew it was a saiyan like Raditz. With a hard glare Piccolo kept his eye on Wolf as he spoke to Shadrok.

"Earth..."

He said simply to Shadrok as he continued to glare at Wolf. Gohan was at a loss for words as he tensed up at the sight of Wolf.

Korin
Korin's tower
Tales@Holy Soldier

After the winds had subsided Korin had picked himself up and dusted off his fur. Not entirely paying attention to Fang as he finished dusting off his fur. When he finished said fur dusting he looked to Fenrir-O as he spoke.

"Fenrir-O is right, dong that is a sure fire way to get yourself killed"

He said in a matter of fact tone as he watched Fenrir-O bring him his staff, the cat man internally chuckled to himself at the sight but remained professional as Fenrir-O began asking questions.

"hmmm... name's Korin, and this is my tower, and I don't really do much here nowadays, well, except grow beans, it's like a hobby of mine"

Korin said as he scratched his chin for a moment before refocusing.

"and if by 'your strongest warriors' you mean Earth's strongest warriors, they're friends of mine, though they don't visit as nearly as I'd like them to... it gets a little boring up here time to time, anyway, the guys who just destroyed east city... they're the saiyans..."

He explained as he picked up his staff and began floating off the floor while keeping level with the staff in hand.

"I don't know much about them, but what I do now is that they're bad news, it should be pretty obvious after the display they just put on for us..."

[User]
Sythis stopped for a moment as his scouter went off and indicated that there were two power levels behind him. He turned and saw two figures behind him. One seemed to have tentacles for hair and was pure white and the other seemed to be...he didn't have a word to describe the other one. Humanoid but with certain characteristics that he couldn't place. He didn't know if they hostile or not but based on the fact that they hadn't attacked him while he was unaware he was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt.

Saiyans. Like me. He thought as he checked them over. His smiled grimly as his scouter detected the power levels. They were all stronger then him. He looked up at the ones that were floating in the air and he raised his voice so it could be heard by them all.

Sythis narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists so tightly small amounts of blood began to trail down the sides of his fists. "Which of you destroyed the city?" He called out. "Which of you decided to kill thousands of people and why?"

As he looked over the Saiyans, his gaze fell on the sole female Saiyan of the group and his eyes widened as he got a good look at her. Oh...wow. She's...she's beautiful...He thought to himself as he stared at her for a few moments before realizing he was most likely being viewed as a fool.

Please don't let her be the one who destroyed the city.

[Assistant]
---

Shadrok

Location: Gohan's Training Grounds
Status: Ready to fight, seemingly irritated....

@Stryder @Chev

---

One of the newer individuals within the area, Wolf to be exact. The power which radiated from this individual was not right in Shadrok's opinion, something about it was very dark for what he could tell. Just Shadrok's luck, this individual was probably not only related, but responsible for the event which transpired a great distance from their current location not long ago. The word Earth mulled around Shadrok's mind, nothing sparked when thinking of this word. The planet which Sahdrok stood upon was not only completely unknown or foreign. But Shadrok possessed zero knowledge how or why he was here.

"Eeeeeaaaarrrrrrrthhhh.... EEAaaaARrrRRRtttthhhh?"

Shadrok said the foreign word several times, as though trying it out or something. Focus faintly bouncing between all the individuals in sight/nearby.

"Huh, i know nothing of this planet which you speak...."

Brow furrowed as Shadrok asked Wolf.

"What about you...... What brings you to here?"

Shadrok doubted answer would be given, though attempt for answer was made anyways. Something about Shadrok emanated an irratated persona, this was typical for Shadrok when on utter guard or awaiting a fight to unveil any moment.....

[User]
Silver Fang
Korin's Tower

Fang was annoyed at the responses he had gotten from Fenrir and Korin. People were dying and it looked like they were almost unfazed by the situation.

"Pardon my impatience, but do any of you have any strategies that we can use to handle this situation? More people will die and if you can't give us any more insight on these saiyans and their weaknesses, then we're wasting time. Those saiyans' power levels are greater than ours, but I'm pretty sure you two sensed the energy signatures of others like us right? They may be able to help us fight these saiyans" he said to both of them with a calm voice.

"The time for fighting will be very soon and we have to have our full strength if we're going to fight this threat" he spoke them as his held his spear firmly.

@Holy Soldier

[Assistant]
Kental was just about to speed after Wolf before Vegeta issued out the ordered for them to all halt their movements before they even made them. "Ah, I see, looks like Wolf's found other saiyans...do you think one of them is Kakarot, Vegeta?" Kental asked in question, his arms crossed as he smirked toward the saiyan prince.
----------------------
Wolf's boots clicked once they met contact with the ground, his arms crossed as he smirked toward the earthlings. His piercing eyes locking onto Shadrok, seeing his tail and noting that he was a saiyan. "You there! Warrior, why do you align yourself with these earthlings?" He questioned the saiyan male as his tail swayed back and forth as he then listened to the saiyan as he questioned him. "It's no business to a low level saiyan such as yourself, now answer my question." He said in an orderly tone.
---
Kaddish's eyes shifted forward, a new arrival had now been just a feet away and by the looks of it he was a saiyan too. Were saiyans coexisting on this backwater planet, and if they were, what if Nappa had just wiped away thousands of their own? Even if, it wouldn't explain why they reacted how they did to their arrival. The female's sky blue eyes widened as she noticed how the male saiyan was staring at her, a way she had never been looked at before by any man before, having always been seen as a warrior it was new. "What is it with you?! Stop looking at me like that!" She shouted, lacking control over her volume as she reacted out of pure nerve, her flustered expression serving as evidence.


[System]
Nickname: Ran

Gender: Male

Age: 2,532

Physical Description: Dark skin, as is normal amongst his people, as is the snow white hair from not having seen the sun for his entire life. He has more muscle than the typical elf, sacrificing agility for brute strength. Unlike most drow, his eyes aren't the deep red that has come from adapting to the darkness. His eyes were a light yellow, almost golden in color.

Attire:

A plain white tunic with dark blue pants is normally what comprises his casual wear. It varies if he chooses a black cloak with this outfit.

Pure black armor crafted from a mixture of metal ore and obsidian found deep within the caves that the drow call home. It depicts scales, trimmed with a deep blue dye.

Personality: A quiet man of few words. He doesn't like to be the first one to speak, preferring to listen than initiate conversation. Despite that, he has been found to be very vocal when it comes to things that he finds unjust. When it comes to morality, he is very passionate. Other than that, though, he makes it incredibly hard to allow others close to him.

History: Nathe was born to two drow warriors, both training hard to be included in the dark elven army. At least, they did until his mother became pregnant. He was brought up as any drow was, trained in the art of war and taught the horrors of humans and the naivity of the forest elves. The difference between him and the other drow, though, was that the thought never sat right with him. He tried to research on his own, but any books available to him were written by the same prejudice drow that suggested these severe outlooks. So, he had no real luck studying up on the true history.

That was, until he met one of the elders of his sect of dark elves. The man claimed to have been alive during the first great war with the humans. He talked to Nathe about the way the drow used to live, as one of the elves, before they split into dark and forest elves. He explained the drow's concepts and why they chose to leave Elwyn's grace in favor of Inioch's. He also spoke of how he failed to change the drow as he wished to when he left as a brash youngling. It was all very radical, but it aligned with what Nathe had suspected for years.

He spent centuries under this elder's tutelage, learning everything he could about the old life and the forest elves and the humans. He continued to learn until the elder passed on. It was a sad day, the last of the knowledgeable drow having passed. This cemented Nathe's plan of action, though. He adopted a nickname, calling himself Ran and hiding himself from his drow bretheren. He left the cave systems, moving back to the surface. He had learned all he could from speaking with the elder. It was time for him to experience the above world for himself and his lost brothers and sisters that still hid away in the forest.

Weapons: Ran's primary weapon is a longsword and shield. He has a second sword at his side and a dagger tucked away as well, in case he loses one of the primary weapons. His true secondary weapon, though, is a longbow.

[User]
Nathe snorted in amusement at that, his grin returning to his face. "Afraid? Whatever gave you that idea?" he asked. "I think climbing solid rock is a bit harder than trees. I'm just a bit unable to move properly right now."

Despite the caverns he lived in, it was a misconception that drow didn't know how to climb. In the depths, there were plenty of cliffs and drop offs for their darker skinned counterparts to deal with.

[Assistant] "I do believe I clearly made the distinction of after your wounds had healed." the she-elf snorted in amusement, shaking her head as a light twinkle danced in her pale eyes. "But very well, if you so insist." she conceded, not wanting to over aggrevate the Drow.

[User] Nathe laughed softly. He grew quiet, though, seeming to think over his next words. His smile relaxed as he regarded Mel. "I do hope I'm being a good representative of my people. I was worried my joking or flirting might come off badly. Drow are always taught to not mince words. Say what we want without consequence." He explained in a soft voice, truly worried over offending the elf in their time together.

[Assistant] "You have given me no reason to feel offended, I assure you." she promised, a comforting smile spreading over her features. "Only it's simply a little different, I'm not used to one being quite so direct without, as you say, 'mincing your words'." Mel grimaced slightly as she repeated the phrase, as if she had trouble forming the words. It was certainly one she had not heard before herself, so using it seemed a bit strange to her.

[User] Nathe shrugged in response, keeping his smile on his lips. "We aren't as proper as you elves, but I don't mind our way of speaking," he explained. "What's the point in not being direct? It causes misdirection and confusion."

[Assistant] Mel considered this point for a moment and slowly nodded in agreement. "True...I suppose you are right there." the forest elf shrugged. "But again, I'm sure you find some of our word choices strange too, so we're even in that respect."

[User] Nathe nodded at her remark. "Sounds very formal and restrained, to me," he stated. "Nothing wrong with it. I'm just not used to it, really." He smiled a bit. "I guess it's lucky I had practice before coming up here. One of our elders was a big proponent for reaching out to the forest elves." The memory brought a smile to his face, one of the few find memories of his cavern dwelling family.

[Assistant] "So the rumours are true, then." a smile of her own crossed the forest elf's face. When she was younger and still in training, there had been rumours spread among some of the younger soldiers that there were some Drow who still had interest in learning their ways, but they had been quickly dispelled and rebuked by the older elves. "I heard of them a while ago, but the older elves told us it was false information, they said we should not talk about it any longer."

[User] The young drow laughed at that. "I'm surprised those rumors reached this far. I don't know about a group of drow...but there was one. He was my teacher," Nathe explained with a fond smile on his face. "Taught me what he could of the way we lived when we were one race. Before the fall of Lord Inioch and Lady Elwyn. His memory is long and he was one of the brash fools who thought Elwyn was weak willed. Always used to tell me how old age had changed his perspective." He let out a small chuckle. "He told me that one of his last wishes were to see his tree dwelling brethren again. I took it upon myself to see that wish carried out through me instead." He offered a shrug as he finished his story. "That's a more detailed explanation of why I'm here, if it interests your superiors. I know they want you to find out about the drow from me."

[Assistant] "You heard that, did you? Hm." Mel nodded again, knowing there was no use in trying to lie to him as he was clearly keener of hearing, and better in common sense, than that. Looking around them as if to judge who would be in earshot, if anyone, when she was satisfied that none would overhear the next question she leaned slightly closer to whisper. "I know it probably is not my place to ask, but how did you become injured? The others may believe our little story, but I cannot help but wonder on it myself."

[User]
Nathe tapped his pointed ear lightly as she seemed surprised that he had known. "I may live underground, but we have the same natural advantages that you all have," he replied. At her question, though, his smile faltered, unsure how to answer the question. There was too much riding on this whole thing to talk about the conflicts he faced on his way here...but she also seemed trustworthy in all of this. After all, wouldn't she be in trouble if she were found out to have lied to her leader?

After a moment, he let out a sigh. "If I tell you, it does not leave this room. Please," he said softly. "I am open about a lot of things concerning my people, but this...this, I don't want to get back to your leader. Not when I'm trying to establish a relationship with your people." He paused a moment to wait for her response, steeling himself to believe her regardless of her answer.

[Assistant] Noting the change in his demeanour all of a sudden, she felt a weight of dread settle in her chest as it could only mean one thing. Whatever it had been was not good, and it had somehow involved his kin. Biting her lip, she reluctantly agreed not to speak word of it to anyone else. She had already lied to them once, keeping another secret seemed hardly difficult to her, especially if it would be so damaging to how her leader would react to their new guest.

[User]
Nathe nodded, staying silent for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. After a few moments, he began. "I...my brethren never gave me permission for this quest I set out on," he admitted quietly, almost too quietly for even her to hear with her heightened hearing. "No one believes in an alliance with the elves, let alone reforming into one society. I don't know of any others that wish for peace with your people. Only the late elder and myself." He paused a moment, seeming to recall something that was still fresh, even painful. "I...voiced my opinions when he passed a week ago. I admitted to my research and revealed to them all I had learned of our shared pasts. They...did not really care for that. I was imprisoned. Our leader was to speak with me and have me executed. I managed to escape by swiping a key from one of my guards, but...well, I couldn't avoid all of the guards in my escape."

His hand instinctively trailed back to his wound, holding it lightly. "This was my reward for seeking peace. Kind of ironic, huh?" He smiled, despite the topic they were currently discussing. "They lost me in the woods. Well...really, I lost my way entirely in the woods. We don't know how to navigate forests. In the caverns, we have methods for tracking, but...above ground is a lot harder for us." He frowned a bit. "The only real consolation here is that they probably assume you've killed me at this point. Why would you trust a drow?"

[Assistant] "I do not know if I would call it trust." she admitted evasively. "More so that I just could not watch you die there like that." the forest elf's shoulders rose and fell in another half-hearted shrug. "It would not be the first time, nor will it be the last, that I have done something foolish."

[User] "No, of course not," Nathe agreed with a small smile. "I did not mean to assume you trust me. I'm speaking from my brothers' point of view. They assume you've killed me, as they would you if the positions were reversed." He shrugged slightly before bowing his head. "I don't ask you to trust them or anything. I want you to simply give me a chance to change your mind on this. Let me show you that we aren't all monsters and, maybe, I'll have something to show them as a result. You have no reason to trust me or my people, just as we have no reason to trust you yet either. I'm just the stupid upstart that decided to throw caution to the wind and put all of my faith in at least one of you being as kind-hearted and understanding as the elder who taught me."

[Assistant] "Well perhaps it was not such a far-fetched hope." the she-elf pointed out with a faint smile of her own. "There certainly is nothing preventing me from trusting you eventually." she reasoned, choosing her words carefully. Leaning back against the wall, a curious twinkle entered her eyes. "You have brothers? What's that like?" Mel had no siblings of her own, though she had always been curious as to what it would have been like to have had an older or younger sibling in the family.

[User] Nathe looked at her in confusion for a few moments before understanding entered his eyes and he shook his head. "I'm sorry. You must not use the same terminology," he replied. "I call my people brothers and sisters. I have no one that I consider a blood related sibling. That I know of, anyway. Drow relationships aren't always the most faithful of things." He paused as he thought on that before shaking his head. "Besides, most relationships like that are seen as weak." He shrugged, looking over at her. "Sorry for the confusion."

[Assistant] "Oh, I see." Mel nodded slowly as she took in the information, he was right, she wasn't familiar with addressing non-blood relatives in such a way. "Well, I guess that's another thing that makes us different, then."

[User] Nathe nodded. "A small part, perhaps, but yes," he agreed with a small smile. "I refer similarly to your people. My lost brethren...or my brethren of the forests. The elder I learned from would often speak in such a way. That's just my way of speaking, though. My people, as a whole, do not particularly care for that sentiment." He scratched the back of his head, unsure how this was going. He seemed to only have bad things to say about how the drow viewed the forest elves. It wasn't a lie, though, and he had stuck to the fact that he would no lie to Mel. If he could not trust them to try, why should they ever trust him?

[Assistant] "No, I don't imagine they would." Mel agreed softly. "At least you were brave enough to stand by it, though. If any of my kin thought the same way of your people I doubt they would admit it so openly." any such talk was always quieted quickly by those of higher rank. It seemed foolish to her, the Elves had enough of an enemy in the humans already, they didn't need to be fighting amongst themselves.

[User] "Brave or foolish," Nathe pointed out with a small smile. "After all, this is my reward." He patted the wound at his side, thankful for the numbing effect of the medicine now as he sat there. "At least your people don't grow violent with those beliefs. I just have to prove to them that we're not all bad. Nothing will get solved without an example of peace. I just don't want to let this sit until it grows into actual conflict." He leaned back again into his seat, stifling a yawn as he explained. "Honestly, I'm surprised you're willing to give me the benefit of the doubt without any proof give of my sincerity."