[System]
Age: 26
Race: Manbeast, anthropomorphic tiger.
Appearance:

School: seeking sword, seven blades.
Fighting Style: The main goal of Yin's style is versatility. Master Gan Fang has stated that while all techniques have a main use, there are at least six alternatives to it. The seven blades is an offensively defensive style. There is not a dedicated block in it, the closest you'll find is a straight open palm strike against the attacking limb. By repeatedly pummeling the opponent the objective is to physically persuade it to stop attacking. Many of the more defensive techniques also aim for soft spots such as exposed muscles, joints, throat, eyes, groin…
The hip is the most important part of the body for a wielder of the seven blades. From there all power is drawn, even the most basic punches, kicks and takedowns comes with a flick of the hip.
The style is heavily reliant on control of the body and chi. If the techniques are done correctly body and chi will flow as one and change muscles into wood and bones into steel.

Weaknesses: While the seven blades is a highly useful art it has a serious drawback. Its focus on control and balance means it is pretty stationary and as such has trouble with overly mobile or overwhelming opponents. A skilled fighter can overcome this weakness, but in the world of martial arts you rarely get a second chance. Yin's tail, while it is a great help with balance and light attacks, can also be turned into a big weakness.

Weapons: While the seven blades have techniques for many different weapons such as staves, daggers, swords, whips, spears, halbeards, clubs ands so on Yin rarely use anything else than his fists. If he has to wield a weapon a simple bamboo staff is his choice.

History: Yin became first student of master Gan Fang after Lu Fau left on his mission of vengeance. Gan Fang often spoke of his previous student very fondly, almost like a lost son.

Yin Hu, like many of his anthropomorphic brothers and sisters, grew up in Valley of the beggar's song. They are mostly shunned by humans, elves and all other major races for being dirty half breeds. It is true after all. The legend of the manbeasts states that their entire race was founded on a dire night, where corrupt men and women of different races drank the blood of animals whose power they wanted. As a cruel joke, the gods granted their wishes. The following morning they were all run out of their homes and had to learn how to survive in the wild, like animals.

From these evil people today's manbeasts are descended, and it seems nothing can be done to get rid of their vile history.
Although, there are a handful of people in the world that will treat manbeats as people. One of these are known as Master Gan Fang. He spotted the young Yin Hu in the valley one day, and saw potential in him. At that time Lu Fau was his head student, and Yin were mostly carrying out pointless repetitive tasks to strengthen his discipline and core strength.
Master Gan Fang didn't train his students the same way, they were different people and had different talents. Yin Hu showed promise in the art of improvisation, and was trained in a style that would allow him to use the cores of many techniques in many different ways depending on situation.

Yin is fully trained and is about to leave his master and wander around the world and seek wisdom and perhaps an apprentice or two. He holds his master in the highest of regards and knows that while other masters claims he is boasting, Master Gan Fang is a mighty warrior, and truly capable of any feat he says he has performed.
Before his journey, Master Gan Fang has told Yin Hu that his final lesson will be at the annual battle tournament at Secret Cove. What he means by that, Yin doesn't know.

My relation to... Boar.
This hulking monstrosity of the Smiling Fist School if pretty much Yin's worst nightmare in battle. While they have never faced each other in the ring Yin has had the fortune of seeing the Orc train and is well aware that the training dummies aren't supposed to break like that.

Boar's headstrong attitude and lust for fighting is the polar opposite of the calm and calculating Yin. They might never be friends, but Yin respects Boar as a fellow martial artist, and secretly hopes that they will never have to face each other in battle, for Yin may not walk away from it.

[User]
Location: Undisclosed - Research Facility

The temperature inside the industrial plant was unbearably hot. Prime Minister Lei peeped down from the rafters, observing the assembly line at work while fanning himself, exhaustively. Plumes of steam clouds spewed from the exhaust pipes of large mechanical arms. These contraptions were articulately shaping scrap metal as if it were clay. Workers tirelessly operated at their designated stations. They welded what the machine arms created while reinforcing other attachments with bolts and screws.

"Sir?" A voice called out from behind Lei.

"What?" He said, irritably.

"We've prepared the prisoner." Prime Minister Lei turned to find Isao The Fox, who looked completely unphased by the sweltering heat of the facility. He grabbed a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Finally." Lei uttered, stomping past Isao as he headed toward the elevator shaft.

***

The room was dark, unfiltered, and boiling. A man positioned himself on the floor with his legs crossed in meditation. Who knows how long he's been captive. With no window to the outside world the days felt lumped together. Time had become a complete uncertainty. All he had to go by was the length of his beard, which had grown from his chin, now down to his collar bone. His body ached in agonizing pain from his captor's interrogation methods. Despite his condition however, the man felt resilient enough to keep going. A loud shrill sound disrupted his momentary peace. The man leapt to his feet and got into a fighting stance.

"Do what you will, heathens!" His voice bounced all over the metal walls. The energy from the air he expended while talking, recirculated back into his chi. He felt strong. Prepared. "I will not give up the location! Not in a thousand years!"

"Yes, well....while you have the luxury of time, we do not." Prime Minister Lei's voice blasted through a speaker on the upper corner of the cell. "Give us what we want." For a moment there was silence, then one of the walls quickly collapsed to the ground. The man snapped to with his guard up but all he could see were two, glaring red orbs. After being in the darkness for so long the brightness was unbearable. An unholy growl sputtered from what sounded like a creaking jaw. Was this supposed to be some kind of animal? Whatever it was, it was massive.

"Wh-"

"Give us the location!"

"Oh gods! What is th- Arrgghh!!!--"

---

Lotus Port

As described by your invitation, you make your way toward Lotus Port to dock the red ship at dawn. Passage to the Secret Cove is never taken the same way. Last year was done through Scorpion Bay, and the year before that was through Floating Leaf city. Many people from across the land have also boarded the ship, mostly martial artists like yourself, but you do spot two food vendors. They've been walking around the deck since they boarded, soliciting their goods with warm smiles. Judging by their appearance, you can tell they do not have much, but the wares in their possession smell of wonderful soups and kabobs. The red ship draws its anchor and leaves Lotus Port. The captain, much like his crew, are quiet individuals with a monk-like demeanor. They do not say anything to each other and yet they somehow manage to fulfill their ship duties.

The red ship makes its way out into the massive lake of Daozen. The morning fog rolls in thicker than usual, making it difficult to see anything beyond the steamboat you're currently traveling on. You can sense the nervous jitters in the air. Several people have gathered onto the main deck, boasting their introductions proudly as they debate over who's style is the best. An argument suddenly erupts between a middle aged dwarf and a young human.

"Ha! You're a liar. Tsubo is your name? Heh! Master Laila of the Shallow Step would never take in someone as ungraceful as a dwarf!" The young man grinned. "You're better suited for a more clumsy school like The Smiling Fist!"

The dwarf named Tsubo clenched his teeth, pushing the young man back. "Shut your mouth, Duang, you juvenile pup! You're just jealous that my Master beat yours in combat. You're weak just like your Master Vetrus. Go cry in the corner little grieving spider!"

The deck erupts in laughter. Duang, now furious, pushes the dwarf with all of his might, forcing him tumbling backward and into one of the food vendors. She gets knocked to the floor, spilling all of her wares. Some of the warm noodles and meats got on the dwarf, staining his silk green gi. Tsubo glares at the woman. "Stupid wench! You've drenched me in this filth!" He raises a stumpy hand and cocks it, ready to backhand her in the face.

[Assistant]
Lee walked down the gangway to the red ship. He didn't even know why he was even here right now. He did not need to go to the Secret Cove for anything about it. He knew that Boar would be there. He figured that they could have a real fight in front off all those people. They had just fought in a local market place. It had ended in a draw with enither of them being able to continue and not get caught by the guards.

When he got on he heard the two arguing with each other. He hated when anyone hurt someone else Lee saw red. He quickly moved and flipped over the dwarf and grabbed him. He quick threw him into the wall of the ship. He had learned that trick fighting Boar so fighting the Orc did have some perks. He looked at the vendor and gave her his best smile. "Hey beautiful. Name's Lee." He said laying it on thick. He was shameless. The girl had his full attention. "Did I mention I beat an Orc?" He boasted.

[User]
Yin Hu watched the water closely. He didn't really have a choice.
Some people would say that he watched the water because cats had a natural hatred for the stuff. Others would claim that his instincts had taken over, and he was looking for fish. A third would claim to know for a fact that manbeasts loved to ride fast things such as ships, and stick their heads off the side and feel the wind. Ten they'd laugh and move along. They were all wrong, and Yin hoped that the trio was going to the tournament, and that he'd be lucky enough to see someone beat the snot out of them. It was very unlike Yin to be so vindictive, but he was in a special situation.
The reason why Yin was hanging over the railing was simply that he was horribly seasick. You couldn't tell for the fur, but he felt green and the whole world was rocking in a way that should never happen. To top it off it was Yin's first time on a ship, and if he had anything to say about it, it would also be his last. Master Gan Fang had insisted upon the ship, saying that last year they'd almost arrived too late, and they'd been attacked by bandits on the way.
Not that a few bandits posed a problem, most of them had simply picked up a sharp object and fancied themselves fighters… But arriving late was strictly against the master's character and so it could not happen again.

After feeding the fishes for a while, Yin felt certain that he could not possibly do so any more and pushed as hard as his muscles would allow in the wooden side of the boat. He'd wrapped his tail around a nearby rope for stability, but even by pulling as hard as he could manage, he could not lift himself up. His muscles were weaker than ever before and his belly, even though it was empty, felt like a big barrel about to tip over.

"What's the matter, can't handle the sea? Hahaha!"
The voice belonged to a crew member, a rotten kind of man that smelled strongly of sweat, dirt, alcohol and sea. You could easily tell the crew apart from the fighters on the ship. Martial artist over all took great pride in their abilities and wanted to make their school look good. By dressing up they gave the illusion that martial arts were indeed an art form, like painting or calligraphy… Not pummelling your opponent to death with blunt force or ripping joints out of their sockets by manipulating arms and legs. The men of the sea however could not care less. They dressed little better than in rags and some of them had obviously not cared enough about their appearance, or the noses of their passengers, to have a bath before they set out.
The crew man slapped Yin on the back with enough force to overpower the manbeast's already taxed muscles and sent him straight into the railing with a thud that almost knocked the wind out of him. Saliva gathered in his mouth again, just like it had before, when he was going to throw up, and only seconds later he could feel his stomach turning itself inside out.
The crew man walked away laughing. Off to tell the tale to his buddies, it would be a long trip...


[System]
Nicknames/Aliases: None

Gender: Female

Birthday: September 5th

Age: She appears to be in her mid 20's

Class: Templar

Occupation: Exorcist for Hire

Species: Human/Beastkin Raven Hybrid

Appearance: Serena is a lithe, tall woman with a very toned, semi-muscular figure. Her eyes are a dark shade of blue and she has jet black hair that she keeps in a loose ponytail. She usually keeps them concealed but she also has a pair of raven wings that stretch out 8 feet from tip to tip. There are also jet black feathers on her arms, legs, and chest. She used to have smaller feathers growing on her cheeks, but she has torn the feathers out so many times that they don't grow back anymore. In the place of those feathers are two long scars that run down from just below her cheekbones to her chin on each side of her face. She also has a long scar that runs down her shoulder and one on her leg from an accident she had when she was still a child.

Clothing Style:

She doesn't wear the helmet unless she's in battle. She also wears a tan cloak that covers up her armor and conceals her wings.

Personality: Serena is a hardened fighter on and off the battlefield. Discriminated against by humans for her wings and feathers she has a disdain for most people and will not open up and become friendly to others unless she really knows them. When she does make friends though, she becomes extremely loyal to them and will give her life to protect those she cares about. She has a strong faith in the Gods that was instilled in her by the monks that raised her, and she still prays to them on her journeys. She has a bit of a sharp tongue and will almost always say what she thinks about a person.

Likes: The Summer time, sweet and savory food, people with open minds, praying, flying

Dislikes: Bitter food, large dogs (she was attacked by one when she was younger), ignorant people, Red Hand

Past/History: Serena was raised on the Filicarius Monastery in the Mountains of Shoria after stumbling upon them as a little girl. She was abandoned by her mother and was left as a street urchin, unwanted by anyone. Not even the orphanages would let her in because of her wings and feathers. She was chased out of the city by a mob and wandered into the mountains where she survived on her own for several weeks. When she finally came upon the Monastery, she was starving to death. The monks treated her with compassion and didn't care about the fact she wasn't fully human. They taught her how to read and write and about the Gods, and eventually their own style of demon hunting. At first she was rebellious and tried escaping by flying away, but the attempt went horribly wrong and crashed in the middle of nowhere during the winter. The monks spent 3 days looking for her in below freezing temperatures, trekking a dangerous and steep mountain. When they did finally find her, she was near death. After nursing her back to full health, she began to realize that the monks did truly care about her and took her studies seriously. She was a prodigy in exorcism, and soon after she reached maturity she left to go out into the world and help others by fighting demons wherever they may be. Years later, the Red Hand took an interest in the Monastery where she grew up and in one night wiped them all out. When Serena learned of this, she swore to destroy them all. Her mission is now to kill all demons and all Red Hand.

[User]
Lenna was thankful for Cecilia's smoke cover for a moment, until she heard the voraptus that had been keeping pressure on her flap away. That meant that it had chosen a smaller, easier target. Thinking of the young nobles in their group, Lenna burst from the smoke.

She briefly considered engaging the scarecrows, but then realized where the final voraptus had gone. Lenna let out a bestial warcry before racing for her white mage ally.

As the voraptus knocked Elisha over, Lenna dived on it. It couldn't fly away with her weight pressing on it, and Lenna began wrestling with the bird on the ground. Lenna pinned the bird, making it a clear target for one of her companions.

[Assistant]
Cecelia

 Cecelia heard commotion from the other bird, looking in time to see Elisha getting knocked back. A protective urge moved Cecelia's feet in that direction. Cecelia passes the bird and checks on Elisha. Out of breath, she asks "are you... Alright?" and pulls out a small bandaging kit she originally brought to bandage herself. "Need any... Help?" still trying to catch her breath, she continues asking questions. She looks over at the well-dressed lad with the rapier "can you take out the bird?"

[User]
"Yes" Louis answered, although that was really unlikely. Getting into the stance once more, he readied himself to attack the bird. All at once, he moved forward towards his target, hand ready to end it's life. Once he was in range, he lashed out with his weapon, striking the prone beast in the torso. Badly wounded, it quivered under Lenna, no longer able to muster up any strength to escape. With it unable to fight back and slowly dying, Louis walked over and shoved his weapon in it's skull, ending it just like the last one. The creature didn't even know what hit him...

...Mostly because he didn't even notice Louis, and it was already trapped under a large bunnykin...but still

"Is she badly hurt?" He asked Cecelia, regarding Elisha. As of right now, Louis was feeling pretty good about himself 'This is far easier then Crow made it out to be...perhaps I simply have a knack for it.' It's too bad that he didn't consider dumb luck a possibility

[Assistant]
Miercoles managed to get signed up at the last minute and yet he managed to get into a group. Still he was late as by the time he rushed to the northernmost gate one of the group members was already in combat with some bizarre looking creations. Definitely not animal, vegetable, or miner but scarecrows? While he didn't want to say they were going to be easy, it could be a lot more worse. Even if enchanted it was enchanted wood, straw, and cloth is no match for a keen blade and an even more keen hand.

A small group of the possessed scarecrows fell apart in the time it took for him to re-sheathe his blade as it cleaved through them with the ease of gust of wind kicks dust up. Dramatic entrance now complete he spoke to the armored man with a tip of the hat, "We can exchange names after this. For now let us focus on destroying these pests quickly." He then set down his box as it would be a bit of a nuisance in this fight as well out of a desire to minimize any possible damage that could be inflicted on it.

[User]
"Man, I am really out of shape." Elisha thinks to herself as she desperately catches her breath. The impact she made blew all of the wind out of her.

Before long, she could hear Cecelia and Louis coming to check up on her. "I-I'll be OK... Cecelia... I just need... to calm down for a few."

Elisha slowly forces herself to stand back up. "Get a hold of yourself, Eli. You told yourself you won't be a burden anymore." As she says that to herself, she closes her eyes and begins channeling the spell she was going to use moments earlier once more.

"The three scarecrows are... there... there... and there..."

Envisioning where her targets are, Elisha envelops the three remaining demons in a cloak of flame. Being made out of straw, they were quick to catch on fire and were shortly burned into a crisp, but not before loudly wailing out into the skies one last time.

[Assistant]
Cecelia

 Cecelia stands in silence for a few seconds. She- she just burnt them to a crisp. Seeing how much force Elisha put into standing back up, Cecelia stands about a foot in front of her, asking "are you sure you're alright. You look pretty drained. Especially after that spell. Do you need to sit down or something? Please don't overdo yourself." Cecelia notices that all of the enemies are dead. Well, at least we got rid of them, along with the possible coin. She realizes how different her thoughts were before, during, and after the fight. She smiles at Elisha, adding "you did a great job. Thanks for taking care of those last few scarecrows, Elisha. Was that your first time fighting?" She turns to the rapier-boy, continuing her gratitude "and thank you for taking care of that last bird. I'm Cecelia, known in some parts as 'The Shadow'" adding her alias in a tone that somewhat mocks the name itself, to keep from sounding too serious about the fact that she's the one people send out for to steal others' things and all sorts of random stuff at night.

 Cecelia turned towards the gates, where the mass of volunteer villagers stood just outside of, not having done any work. "Well, that was easy enough" Cecelia thought aloud as she surveyed the battlefield. I didn't even bloody my blade. Yet.

[User]
Lenna shifted back into her human state, then appraised her allies with a smile.

"Good job, guys. Especially you, miss," she noted Elisha, "That magic work was great.  Those demons didn't stand a chance."

She then looked at the dead birds.

"It's a shame we couldn't take care of the demons first. The raptors would have likely calmed down."

She shook her head, then listened to what Cecila said.

"Good to meet you, miss Cecilia. I am Lenna Underwood, of the family and town that share that name."

She smiled, "Thanks for the covering smoke, by the way."

She glanced at Louis, "And decent rapier work by you, sir. Keep practicing, you'll make a fantastic swordsman."

[Assistant]
Serena Nuias had been in the city of Maplestead after hearing that there was an unusual amount of demonic activity affecting its surrounding regions. She had wandered the city for a few days trying to glean information from the inhabitants, but in the end she didn't have to pry too far. Maplestead wasn't just suffering from a small demon outbreak. It was under siege. It wasn't just demons either, there were other beasts running rampant in unusual ways. Even she was aware that she couldn't face this level of demonic activity alone. Then came the crier with his announcement of rewards going to those who could kill the creatures attacking Maplestead. She immediately realized that this was a suicide mission for most, and knew that she had to assist. One of the oaths she had taken when she became a Templar was to protect the weak. Even if the individuals themselves were ignorant, greedy, and detestable; it was her duty. She cared nothing for the gold.

 When she arrived at the town square to sign up, she had noticed that more than a few intriguing characters were abreast. Some seemed experienced and cautious, like the tactician and cleric who obviously had several years of experience under their belt each. She had heard what the cleric Aldrial had to say about the pains of healing another, and she shared some of his sentiments but also felt that it was the duty of a healer to bear that pain and anguish. Of course, she didn't think that fools who rushed into the heat of battle should be rewarded for their stupidity, but leaving them to die was like turning one's back on their own calling.

 She had also seen several with far less experience but the potential for greatness, and many who simply should not have been risking their lives as it would be fruitless and wasteful. She steeled herself for the horror that would come soon. Earlier in the day she had watched a young girl collapse after running for just a short while and was shocked when she realized that that same girl was going to be facing the horror of battle alongside her. She was almost dead set on protecting that girl, as her kind spirit shone brightly even though her body was weak. In the end she left protection of the girl to the thief who had helped her up in the first place. It seemed apparent that the thief known as Cecilia was attempting to propose to the other girl, as strange as that was. In any case, she was not Serena's responsibility.

 She stayed out of sight, and silent for almost the entire morning. When the town crier finally appeared to announce the various teams that would engage the monsters, she was placed with three absolute imbeciles who had no combat experience. She decided it was better to just fight on her own. She paid them off with the bit of gold that she carried on her for emergencies, and they happily obliged after hearing how soon the battle would begin. They were smarter than most, but still cowards. She did not judge them for this though.

~~~~~

 The time came for the battle to begin. Serena watched the various teams make their way to the various gates that protected the city, and chose to follow the group heading for the Eastern gate as she felt the presence of a creature that was far more deadly than what any of these peasants were capable of handling even on a good day with the correct equipment and a plan. It had taken several minutes to convince those farmers to return to their homes, and by that time the crowd had scattered and gone to the gates. She rushed as fast as she could to the East Gate, hoping that not too much damage had been done and that the villagers had at least some of their wits about them, but her hope was soon to be crushed.

 On the other side of the gate, dozens of the lightly armed villagers ran screaming as a Basilisk tore through the crowd, crushing all in its wake. Several other villagers were being lit on fire by the Lava Demons and the stench and cries of pain that emanated from them lit an anger in Serena's soul at the nobles who sent these villagers to die like dogs. She watched the Beast Whisperer Jere bravely try to save a villager from being trampled, and then noticed the elegant Archer Veltis set up his greatbow to lay siege to the Basilisk. In utter amazement, she saw him loose arrow after arrow into the demon's many eyes, and it finally collapsed to the ground. She stood there stupefied by the sheer skill of the man, but the cries of the maimed and dying villagers brought her back to her senses. She needed to help in whatever way she could.

 She ran to Veltis who was now on his knees from the exhaustion of firing that greatbow so many times and helped him to his feet. She then hastily introduced herself so she would not seem rude.

 "Hello good Sir, I am Serena Nuias. I would like to further introduce myself, but I feel that now is not a good time. Excellent work with the Basilisk," She smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "That is quite a feat you just pulled off." She then gripped his shoulder tightly and muttered unintelligible words in another language under her breath. A white glow came off of her hand and spread to the tuckered out archer. "That spell should revitalize you just enough so that we may deal with these Lava demons together. The villagers need our help."

 With that, she drew her sword from its sheath on her waist and mounted her shield and ran forward towards Jere and his Wolf.


[System]
|| Golden Brown Eyes || Plum to Lavender Ombre || 5'7" || 132 lbs ||
Nickname:
Valencia is extremely proud of her name so she rarely gives anyone her nickname. However, she would rather have someone shorten her name than having them butcher the pronunciation so she also goes by Viva.

Age:
Seventeen
Gender:
Female
Sexuality:
Asexual

Personality:
Valencia De la Torre is a perfect example of a cheeky brat. Due to little to no social interactions, she began to acquire an irritating attitude that resembled that of a judgmental prick. Although she's withdrawn and introverted, Valencia has a bad case of being outright hostile and volatile with anyone who dares interact with her. This makes it hard for her to ever maintain a conversation for too long or even keep proper eye contact when speaking. She's on this one track mind where the only person she can rely on is herself. But fear not! Valencia can make a mean lasagna when she wants to.
 「✓」
 • Trees
 • Parks
 • Animals (all of them cuties)
 • Lasagna
 「✖」
 • People
 • Dolls
 • Hospitals
 • Cantaloupe

Biography:
Valencia went through a bumpy childhood; Her parents passed away when she was just a tod in an unlucky car accident. After her parents death, since her family was never dependent on relatives, their relationship was rather frail thus no one wanted to take the responsibility of taking care of Valencia. She was shuffled from aunt to cousin to uncle and to aunt all over again. Her living situation was so irregular that Valencia's idea of relationships became extremely warped.

School wasn't any better either. Since she never stayed at a school for too long, she was never able to make any actual friends. Valencia only ever found solace when she was surrounded by nature; it made her feel less lonely in a sense. As she grew older, Valencia grew bitter. The girl who kept to herself began to actively act out in an in a futile attempt to find some sense of purpose. She's tried every form of delinquency, drugs, drinking, clubbing, shoplifting, fake ID, fighting, just name it. She never stuck too long with any though, since she never felt like she belonged.

She was malicious, sullen, and spiteful. An Aunt that was supposedly "taking care" of her at the time had enough of dealing with Valencia's constant misconduct decided on enrolling her in Fae High School. Unfortunately, all the paperwork and enrollment fees (as well as tuition) was paid by Valencia's inheritance money, which really wasn't enough considering the cost of the school. Knowing this, and the very fact that its a reform school, Valencia is abhorrently against attending the school and will do everything in her power to leave.

Habits:
Valencia is prone to making random, peculiar--sometimes even inhuman--noises. When lying, she tends to slightly scrunch up her nose. This subconscious reaction was more prominent when she was younger, but it gradually became more subtle. Valencia always has this weird habit of talking about a person's unique scent; she calls it their signature scent.
Fears:
She's afraid of dolls. More specifically, she hates dolls that mimic human-like features. China dolls are no fun either.
Other:
Valencia has a nose ring as well as a small tattoo at the nape of her neck, it's usually hidden by her voluminous hair.

[User]
ｄａтｅ
ｊａｎυａｒｙ - ғｅвｒυａｒｙ - мａｒｃн - ａｐｒιｌ - мａｙ - ｊυｎｅ -ｊυｌｙ - ａυｇυѕт - ѕｅｐтｅмвｅｒ - ｏｃтｏвｅｒ - ｎｏｖｅмвｅｒ -ｄｅｃｅмвｅｒ

01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05 - 06 - 07 - 08 - 09 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30 - 31
Ｗｅａтнｅｒ
ғｒｅｅｚιｎｇ - ｃｏｌｄ - ｃнιｌｌｙ - ｃｏｏｌ - ｃｏмғｏｒтａвｌｅ - ｗａｒм -
нｏт - вυｒｎιｎｇ

ｐｏｗｅｒғυｌ ｗιｎｄѕ – ｖｅｒｙ вｒｅｅｚｙ – вｒｅｅｚｙ – ѕｌιｇнт вｒｅｅｚｅ – ｎｏ ｗιｎｄ

тιмｅ ｏғ ｄａｙ
ｊυѕт вｅғｏｒｅ ѕυｎｒιѕｅ – ѕυｎｒιѕｅ – ｌａтｅ мｏｒｎιｎｇ – мιｄ-ｄａｙ – ｅｖｅｎιｎｇ – ѕυｎѕｅт – ｎιｇнтғａｌｌ – мιｄ-ｎιｇнт

---

[Assistant]
"What If I'm not smart enough? What if I don't make any friends? Wha-" Hotaru slapped her hand across Hikari's mouth, covering it and stopping him from finishing that question. She wasn't in the best mood, considering the fact that she had to wake up early and go to this dumb school. "You actually wanted to go to this school?" Hikari bit Hotaru's finger, causing her to yelp in pain. in a swift movement, Hotaru Grabbed Hikari by his collar she gritted her teeth so much, her jaw ached.

Ah, it's her

"Hotar-or whoever you are, calm yourself." Hotaru blinked a few times, confused as to why she was holding onto her brother's shirt. "Hikari! I-I'm so sorry!" She let go of him, apologizing a whole bunch of times. "It's al-alright, let's go sign in for our dorms and class-"

"Hi everyone! I'm principal Wickerbottom--"

Wickerbottom is a tall and notably handsome man. He has light hazel eyes and brown hair that is neatly jelled back. He commonly dresses in crisp, neat suits and wears a sawtooth leaf pin that was given by some of his former cram school students on his tie. He will do anything in his path to destroy the students, he has the power to do so.
"So, when are the students coming?" Wickerbottom demanded, slapping down a pile of papers on his desk. He folded his legs, crossing his slender long fingers while looking up at his assistant. "Some are just entering now, sir." Wickerbottom snickered, he glared at his assistant who was quite nervous. "Hmm, whats my schedule for today?" He asked, tilting his head. She looked rather funny from this view for Wickerbottom. "Announce for everyone to head to the auditorium where you're gonna give an introductory speech of how this school year is gonna start out. I believe that is all." Wickerbottom regained his composure, he sighed and opened his mouth to speak. "They understand that today is just signing in right? Tomorrow is when we start the fun."

"I need everyone to head to the auditorium, there will be a grand speech by me, Wickerbottom! I will tell you all about how this school is gonna work for you..Troublemakers."

[User]
"Ugh. Seriously? This is it? I expected more from a rich kid reform school."

Sera strolls through the school gates, purposefully going slow to antagonise her mother, who had dropped her off, and was now waiting to make sure she didn't run away. Sera was pretty amused at this, as she had hidden inside her old school and left after her mother had gone countless times before. However, she didn't leave this time. Might as well see what this fancy school is all about...

Pulling out a piece of gum and popping it in her mouth, she pats the pocket of her bag where her cigarettes lie. She never had them at school, in case she was caught, but she had sewn a small secret pocket in her bag where she kept her lighter and cigarettes. Nobody expected a girl like her to be able to sew, let alone sew well enough to hide things so nobody could tell. She would definitely need them if this place was as much of a hellhole as she was expecting. But, for now, she would settle for the gum, which she had a supply of also, albeit just sitting in her bag.

Upon hearing the principals notice over the intercom, Sera sighs and heads over to the direction specified by a sign. "This better not take long. I just want to get to my dorm and chill, hopefully for the rest of the year. The principal sounds like one of those fake cheery ones."

[Assistant]
The car Damian rode in came to a hult only two of the four men excted the car soon resorting their attention towards Damian. He couldn't do much of anything being in a straight jacket in all so he just sat there wondering what's going on and what's about to happen to him. He sure as hell doesn't want to die so even if they attempted to kill him he'd try his best to fight back. While Damian suspiciously waited the driver popped the trunk and one of the two men that exited the car before hand reached into it.

Damian winced when he seen one of the guys going into the trunk. His posture soon changed when it turned out to be a backpack. Why would he need a backpack... Before he could even get a deep thought on why he was picked up and tossed against the ground. Hitting the pavement hurted a bit and he jolted at the sudden pain. He tried his quickest to suck it up and stand but was easily stopped by the backpack pulled out of the trunk being thrown at his back. It had some weight on it so when it was thrown at him he fell again.

Why was this happening to him....? He kept asking himself as he ignored the pain and shakingly stood. Damian looked at the bag as the mysterious men went back into their respective spots inside the vehicle and drove off. Unable to use his hands he kicked the backpack along ignoring the whispers or stares he would probably get. Not to soon after his arrival there was an announcement telling all students to head to the auditorium. Damian had no clue where that was so he just kicked his bag in the direction that most of the students were headed. The school look breath taking on the outside which was saying a lot since the inside...was not what Damian was expecting.

[User]
Occurrences like these were hardly rare, yet even if Valencia had long grown accustomed to the constant change in environment, the feelings of annoyance and irritation were still present. She wasn't annoyed because she had to move once more. It wasn't even because her very own aunt was disowning her for the third time now. No, those things she could easily get over. What she was most bothered about was the fact that she was being sent to some preppy 'reform' school. And to make things worse? She was the one paying for it all. She let out a short, crisp sigh before returning her to the changing scenery before her. However, that sigh wasn't enough to expel all the loathing she had yet to express. Except, she didn't have anyone to unload all these feelings on so she held on to them and kept staring out the window.

Although it was a cool September morning, Valencia had the car's window rolled down. The wind was as persistent as ever even though her`bod was wrapped in a thick sweater. The only reason she kept her window down was so that she could annoy the living daylights out of her aunt, who at the moment was ignoring her graciously while jamming to some old pop song. Her aunt's composed manner--gained through years of expert experience--fueled Valencia's irritation even more. The chilly winds didn't make it any better; they found their way to her nose, her cheeks and even her slightly exposed neck. Valencia found herself scowling at everything they passed by regardless of how breathtakingly beautiful the scenery around these parts was. The signs, the roads, the pasture, and even the glistening lake they had just passed by.

It was only when her aunt's unusually perky voice broke her concentrated hateful scowl that Valencia realized they had reached their destination. "We're here." The car had come to a full stop just after crossing a long bridge. Valencia looked ahead and set eyes upon the new hellhole she was now meant to call home. It was an unnecessarily huge and haughty orange building. Seriously, that building looks like it had more sass than me. The place screamed money and Valencia began to wonder how exactly such a place was meant to house 'the worst of the worst.' What also stood out the most was the fact that the school seemed to be located in the middle of nowhere. Wait a minute... Valencia flipped out her phone from her sweater's pocket and unlocked the screen. Shit.. I knew it, shiiiit. She locked and unlocked her screen hoping for her eyes to be wrong, but it changed nothing.  There's no service whatsoever in this forsaken hellhole.

"Get the fuck out already, Val." Irritation laced the woman's voice as she tightened her grip on Valencia's shoulder. Her aunt had already gotten out of the car and had helped herself to opening the door on Valencia's side. It seemed as if it wasn't her first attempt at getting Valencia's attention so she had resorted to touching her. "Fine," Valencia shook her hand off and began getting out the car. "I get it already."

Her aunt nodded a brisk goodbye and drove off in a matter of seconds, leaving Valencia with her backpack and a small suitcase. Valencia walked towards the entrance of the school when she heard the end of a PA announcement. From the sounds of it, she was to go to an auditorium leaving her with no choice but to follow those directions.


[System]
Age: 15

Gender: M

Personality: Ryuuto is smart, knows he's smart, and wants everyone to know he's smart. Because of this, he comes off as arrogant and condescending. However, he is not mean-spirited. He'll criticize others for their reasoning, or more often, lack thereof, but doesn't resort to personal insults. Ultimately, if you can prove him wrong, he'll begrudgingly admit it rather than continue to argue.

Ryuuto would rather be your friend, but those who make an enemy out of him, or try to hurt him will have a very hard time getting back on his good side. He will help his friends when he can, but ultimately believes that people should take care of themselves. He won't go out of his way to bully his enemies, but he does get even, and he is very patient in getting back at people. In conflict, Ryuuto is calm and tactical, preferring creative uses of his powers rather than overpowering his opponents.

Ryuuto has all the stereotypical nerd hobbies. Between getting straight A's in all his classes, he's reading, playing video games, or browsing the internet in a dimly lit and cluttered room.

Backstory: Ryuuto never saw much of his parents. They were both wealthy businessmen, traveling around the world for their companies and spending very little time at home. He knew more about his babysitters than he did about his parents. He learned to be independent when he was in elementary school. He did his own laundry, washed his own clothes, cleaned the house, and even ordered groceries online.
His primary interactions with his parents were his report cards. They expected good grades. They hired tutors, that he saw more than them, and gave him all the resources he could possibly need to succeed in school. One of the few times he got to interact with his parents was when they came home to check up on his grades. He wanted more than anything to make these positive interactions, and so he forced himself to be a diligent student, getting perfect scores on everything.

Ryuuto discovered his powers when he was 12. As far as he was concerned, it was just another thing for him to excel at to impress his parents. Ryuuto's parents weren't particularly shocked to find out he was a Channeler. They almost seemed prepared to send him off to the Institute as soon as they all found out. This will be his third year at The Institute.

Appearance:

Equipment: A smart phone with mobile hotspot and unlimited data. A credit card with a $5,000 limit.

Abilities: Academics, studying, and research. Keeping a level head in a crisis. Tactics. Video Games, particularly rhythm games.

Channeller category: Architect.

Description of power: Threads of Fate – In short, Ryuuto can make strings. It has proved to be a difficult ability for a young person to master, as it requires an understanding of molecular structures and forces to produce a viable string. By learning more about chemistry and physics, Ryuuto can make strings of tougher, or more versatile substances as he needs. His two years in the academy have given him the ability to create strings of various metals, and also carbon fiber. The strings extend from his fingertips and can be attached to any surface they come in contact with, but once broken, they fall limp.

In addition to expanding his moveset, Ryuuto's goals with his power involve making more subtle substances, like yarn or silk. Also, twining his strings into more complex structures, like a rope, is in the realm of possibility. His mentor has also brought up the medical possibilities of learning to stitch a severe wound on the spot.

Names/descriptions of moves: Tripwire – The most basic application of Ryuuto's power. He attaches a string to two surfaces. His training thus far has allowed him to make them so thin as to be nearly invisible.

Reel In – Another basic move. Ryuuto can attach his string to an object and use his power to pull it towards him. Effective use of this technique requires clever manipulation of momentum.

Razor Wire – Ryuuto can make his strings razor-sharp. He can lash at his opponents with them like a whip, or can attach them to surfaces to set up a trap. Razor Wires require more time and concentration to generate than a standard Tripwire, and are more visible due to their more complex physical structure.

Cat's Cradle – Much like the children's game, Ryuuto interlaces his fingers, and then pulls them apart to make a web of string. This can act as a small shield to block against enemy attacks.

Garotte Grip – Ryuuto launches his strings at his enemy, and wraps it around their limbs, where he proceeds to constrict them. This technique requires precise control and concentration, he cannot make these strings as sharp as his razor wires, but he can make them sharp enough to break the skin.

Future Moves

Marionette – Ryuuto attaches strings to his body and another surface. He can reel himself in with a thought, allowing him to move faster than his body would normally allow in unnatural directions. This technique requires clever string placement and careful calculation.

Cocoon – By studying more complex string structures, Ryuuto can make a weave around himself, a body part, or an object. This technique's applications are limited only by the creativity of the user.

Spider Silk – Ryuuto uses advanced chemical knowledge to recreate spider silk on a scale that can affect things the size of humans.

And perhaps more if these become exhausted…

Theme Song:

[User]
@VitaVitaAR

"I think I'll take yo up on that offer, Daler. I'm sure Clarebelle would benefit too," Mako replied to Daler's offer, taking a brief moment to concentrate on thinking the sentence 'Thank you for extending a hand. I feel like I'm going to need some help with this one.'

Mako then looked up. Her fellow teacher, and, in a way, friend, had arrived and had asked for everyone's attention. Finally, she'd be back in her office soon.

Mako and Asa's relationship began pretty much as soon as Mako first arrived. Back then, students would often get the two mixed up because at the time they had similar hairstyles, and the same warm motherly vibe. Mako, over time, had changed her hairstyle multiple times, relaxed into her position so she was no longer in 'teacher 101' mode but found her own unique methods and style, and had garnered her fearsome reputation as a teacher you don't even want to make lower her voice even once, as opposed to the drill sergeant shouting of an angry Aso on an almost daily basis. They occasionally had a friendly conversation in passing but had never met outside of school hours. Then again, Aso was a good girl, but once she clocked out, Mako liked to party, so maybe that was for the best.

---

Standing beside a butler, was, for her second year at the academy, Kasuke Mina, already dressed in her school uniform last year, hair styled pristine, not that she needed to look any more sickeningly beautiful. 'Finally', she thought to herself. 'How long were they going to keep me standing in the middle of a field?'

[Assistant]
Freyja Leden

---

Ah, there he goes again, talking about his art club. He has always been quite obsessed with the arts, even when he was a student.

Freyja reminisced the days where she just started her role as a teacher in this academy. Yuki was just one of the students back then. She didn't get the chance to teach him seeing how he was, and is, a wavecaster, but he quickly became famous in the institute for being one of the brightest students in such a young age. When he graduated, he was only 14. At that age, she hadn't even started her education yet as she still lived in her village with her parents.

"Pleased to meet you too, Jonathan," she replied to the boy's introduction. "So you are Alexei's pupil? I was under the impression that you are a new student, since I never saw you before. Well, I do hope you become a good pupil to him. Even if he looks intimidating, he's really a warm-hearted person. He will be sad if you disbehave," she said with a light chuckle.

She then saw Ryuuto leaving to chat to another student. A girl, hmm? It would be nice if they were to get along. She had to sigh once more however when he opened the conversation with an advice for her to switch to e-books. Really, the boy needed more tact for sure.

"Ah, there she is. Finally, we're about to begin," she announced when Asa appeared. Loud enough so Jonathan could hear since he had been asking when the entrance ceremony would start.

[User]
---

Daler Ghumman

---

Daler fell out of his seat sideways when Mako sent a thought his way. It was like a damn megaphone in his ear. People always focused too hard on their first try, but that didn't stop it from being any less incredibly surprising and unpleasant. Daller irritably snapped a thought back at Mako.

"This is how loud you were just then!"

When he'd pulled himself back upright, it hit him that he was being a grumpy jerk again, and he followed up with an apologetic and much softer voice. "...Sorry. Sunlight and waiting bother me, so I'm a little bit out of it right now. Could you please concentrate a bit less when you're talking to me?", he thought. He felt pretty bad about 'shouting' at the young woman. She didn't know any better -- it wasn't like there were any textbooks or articles on telepaths out there, after all. On a more cheerful note, it seemed that the event was finally starting up. Perhaps he'd be able to go back to his office for a calmer meeting soon.

Carrot

[Assistant]
The world was spinning too fast.

Normally a man like Skyblue wouldn't be worried about the world spinning. After all, men had evolved to stay anchored to the spinning behemoth. No, this was something entirely new and menacing, and those kids over there needed to be saved. Skyblue ran as fast as he could - which, presently, was a shambling stumble - to warn them of the impending danger, not once wondering why none of them seemed to notice what would normally be quite obvious.

Closer and closer he drew, the miles of field between him and his quarry melting away before his blistering speed - in his still-sleep-ridden mind, at least. As he prepared to make the last final leap, a purple monstrosity suddenly showed up in his path! It was too late for him to correct his course, though, so he braced himself for impact.

As the final meters were crossed, the beast roared a warm invitation to do battle. Wait, 'warm'? queried Skyblue's addled mind moments before the final impact. The world shook, unable to continue its spinning under the sheer force of Skyblue colliding with the monster at a breathtaking quarter of a mile per hour. Stars flew before Skyblue's eyes, surely a sign of the monster's magical blasts flying past him harmlessly. He grappled the beast to prevent its escape - his hand settling onto the woman's shoulder for support - and felt a sudden sting - as sensation returned to his thorn-torn body.

Poison!

Skyblue had to get it out of his system. The longer it stayed, the more likely his doom - and then who would save those children? Warning sirens wailed in his ears as he forced himself to experience nausea. The world spun once more, but he wouldn't let go no matter how hard it tore him from the monster - his body bent forward with his hand still holding the woman in purple for support. And then, finally... Purification.

Skyblue heaved for a good five seconds straight as the foul substance that would have destroyed him poured from his mouth... and onto the feet of a woman. That's strange, he thought. What happened to the monster? He slowly righted himself, trying to make sense of what had just taken place, and idly used the cloth held in hand to wipe the last of the vile substance from his mask. Realization slowly dawned upon him as he looked up from the soiled purple cloth.

"Oh, shit."

[User]
ASA

Asa, fully focused on addressing the new students, was interrupted by someone clumsily brushing into her side. This left Asa confused for about a second, but was able to address the situation relatively quickly and realized what was going on. Oh...it was that guy. Asa was very unfamiliar with Skyblue, but she had seen him around and heard rumors. He was...an odd one to say the least, and needless to say that this moment did not exactly dispell any of the things that had been said about him in the past. Asa decided that, even though she was a little bit annoyed at the...incident that just occurred, she was willing to forgive him for this and politely tell him t-

Then he puked on her shoes. ...Alright, that didn't exactly make things any better, but she was still willing to take the high road and look past it for now, considering she was in front of the new students. However, Asa then saw him reaching his arm out towards her shirt. Alright, even though Asa didn't know what he was attempting to do, she refused to let this fiasco go any farther. She immediately grabbed the man's hand and gave him a steely, cold glare. "Don't" she said simply under her breath, with all the motherly warmth completely gone from her voice and instead replaced with a cold, stern voice

[Assistant]
Shinichi Saito

---

Shinichi stood up. This woman had called everyone to attention. Shinich took a glance around the group. It didn't seem like anyone had really notice his cowering. It didn't even look like a real fight had broken out. There was just the big guy nursing an injury and the girl who had punched him still looking annoyed.

Shinichi took a moment to think about what he had done. This was supposed to be a school for channelers to learn to fight, and here he had gone acting terrified the moment someone else got in a fight! It was a good thing nobody had noticed him, or else everyone would have already dismissed him.

He looked back over to the staff member who had called out to everyone. She seemed busy with some weirdo, almost naked except for his underwear and a mask. Was the introduction actually starting?

[User]
Terri damn near dislocated Ryuuto's shoulder with her vigorous handshake, but Ryuuto didn't hold it against her. If anything, he should have expected it, given that she was strong enough to carry all that luggage on her own. He also had a bit of difficulty understanding her through her thick accent. "Ranch, eh? I guess you've got plenty of other things to worry about there, but you don't want the 21st century to leave you in the dust. You'd be surprised how much easier your life can become once you learn how to properly use technology." He grinned and took out his new phone, relishing in the chance to show off his techno-wizardry. "Here. Let me show you--"

He was cut off though as the welcoming ceremony began. "Ah, guess I'll show you another time. Best of luck with your classes though."


[System]
Age: 22

Birthday: February 16th

Magic: Illusory Magic, with a focus upon Stealth. Fairly small-scale, a change in uniform here, a muffled sound there, a suggestion to the senses that nothing is out of the ordinary about things, and that they should just ignore them, or Lux. Uses learnt and codified by those who fly under the radar, and end up making an art of it.

Magic Level: C

History: We all know the story. It's a timeless classic. Out of a generation of young children within some small, backwater village, there is the one kid who simply doesn't mesh. For whatever reason, he doesn't fit in. Childish cruelty? Distasteful nature? Unfortunate victim of social workings? It's tough to say, but likely is a combination of all three. With a pair of constantly-working parents and a precociously canny little sister to his name, Jason otherwise grew up alone. The pariah. The weird kid who you'd rather just be friends with, and tell that coldly to. A veteran of mostly solitary existence, he gained a negative, but surprisingly self-aware worldview. Knowing all the ways he had been hurt by others and how he'd caused him gave him a strange, highly cynical sort of savvy, and he'd learned how to effectively keep himself at arm's length. The type of guy who would be picked last after the fat kid in team games, if he was picked at all. The type of guy who would suffer in silence as you talked about him behind his back, much less quietly than you thought you were. The guy who learned to tune it out and, eventually, tune others out. The guy who learned to affirm and even take a strange sort of pride in his solitary existence, in that he did things his own, unburdened way, solely at his own behest.

Things changed, however, when he decided to go on a journey at the same point as one Lux Harken, hero-in-the-making. They couldn't be less alike if they had tried. Lux was an optimist, Jason a pessimist. Lux was easily liked, heroic, and charismatic, Jason was off-putting and prone to social suicide, and easily played the "villain". Lux's hair was white, Jason's was black. Lux smiled, Jason scowled. You get the picture. It must have been through some miracle that, after Jason's reluctant agreement to Lux's proposal and open hand, they didn't tear eachother's throats out. Lux sooned learned why, no, he didn't have friends, but bless his heart, soldiered on through it time and again over the years to form a sense of... mutual comprehension. They didn't entirely understand one another, and doubtlessly never will, but they have learned that despite their multitude of differences, disagreements, and general oppositeness to eachother, that the other is a man who can be relied on in spite of them. Something which is invaluable as adventurers. Is it complicated? More than you could ever imagine.

But it works.

Personality: Dark, gloomy, and mistrustful, he is a natural loner. Prone to cutting remarks in inner monologue and outer dialogue, he has learned to try and be observant, but sees things through a rather cynical lens (which he would tell you is "realistic"). Decent guy beneath that, though, and is far from lacking in self-awareness.

Guild and guild mark location: None

Team Members: Lux Harken (Somehow.)

Three Strengths:
1. Passably skilled swordsman. All those years stuck in chuuni-land were good for something after all, it seems, and have left him able to use a katana better than the average idiot who picked one up.
2. Pragmatically-oriented. Or at least likes to think he is.
3. Considers actions carefully. Gloomy and negative attitude aside, it actually takes a lot to get him mad.

Three Weaknesses: (Make them Applicable)
1. Pragmatism is to a fault--willing to be absolutely selfless if it gets things done. (RIP Social Standing)
2. Not strong. Acceptably athletic, especially given his demeanor, but by no means exemplary in combat.
3. Pessimistic nature. Has a rather cynical and at times worryingly jaded view of the world around him, and always tries to search for a hidden meaning or motive behind the actions of others. In line with these tendencies, he is anything but a people person, only his own self-awareness saving him from being an outright indefensible edgemeister.

Greatest Love: Genuineness and Little Sister (P R O T E C T)

Motivation: To understand things a little better. People, the world, you get the picture.

Appearance:

Additional Details: Theme Song:

[User]
Lux Harken

The Grand Magic Games were amazing, people from all over Fiore were gathered in the city to watch. And the amount of Wizards in and out of the Games all but blew Lux's mind.

He wandered around the city, as ever with his traveling companion...somewhere nearby he was sure.

I'm sure he'll be fine the young-ish mage thought as he turned a corner. The sight in front of him was enough to make him pause for a second. Two woman were standing there chatting while a boy lay collapsed on the ground nearby. It was hard control what was going on at first glance but the pair's apparent complete lack of concern for the kid gave the entire scene a bit of a shady air.

"Excuse me." He called out. "May I enquire as to what is going on here?"

[Assistant]
@hatakekuro@Silvan Haven@HereComesTheSnow
Sayatachi Nijiko

"I guess it's best described as mimic magic. So possibly any magic."

Sayatachi observes carefully as Ariel demonstrates her powers. Indeed it is impressive, and it appears that she happens to have a form of mimic magic ability, yet she has seen this magic before. Not often of course, but still enough to recognize what it could be.

"I'm still pretty new to all this but I'm learning... slowly."

It seems as if she was lowering her gaze. It seems she doesn't to want to make eye contact.

"Impressive skills," Rainbow Majesty replies with a smile, "If I'm not mistaken it seems you have some sort of an advanced form of absorption magic. That's quite impressive for any user I've seen, new or experienced."

But before she can continue, two male mages came up to the two women. It seems that her flirting with Nolan must've given her some attention. Oh well...

"Excuse me." one of them called out. "May I enquire as to what is going on here?"

"A friendly conversation." she answers bluntly, "Why do you ask?"

[User]
Ariel - Magic Games Stadium
@hatakekuro@Silvan Haven@HereComesTheSnow
She smiled lightly, if not briefly, at Sayatachi when she mentioned that the magic was impressive. She hadn't run into too many people that could compare it to anything. Like the woman she was talking to, Ariel glanced over when addressed by two mages walked over. At first she looked a tad confused as to why they were asking until she realized Nolan was lying limp on the ground. "Oh, yes we're just talking. He just passed out because he's scared of women and she was close to him." She pointed to Nolan and Sayatachi respectively.

Speaking of Nolan, he hadn't moved much at all. Not unheard of really but she should at least check on him. Stepping around in front of him she knelt down and lightly slapped his face. "Nolan, wake up. I'd rather not have to drag you back to the rest of the guild." Despite having just stated that Nolan was afraid of women she didn't seem to have any qualms trying to rouse him. Then again she was from the same guild so she may just be used to this kind of thing.

[Assistant]
Things were too damn noisy.

I'll start the way I always do: Blunt and To the Point. I will hold nothing back nor twist anything's course. My style of magic is illusionism— I'm more than capable of fufilling any quota on dishonesty through that alone.

Therefore, I don't need corrective lenses put upon how I see things like everyone else. Compared to 97.5%, or thirty-nine of every forty people here, I am bereft of such shackling in my presentation. The ultimate example of freedom of speech and expression can be found here.

Whether you like it, or not.

Take it or leave it here, because that's what you'll get out of me.

Now, onto the immediate topic: I hate people.

To wit:

It's not that I hate every person. Such a claim would be absurd in a world populated by the billions I never have, never will, and never cared to meet.

There are a few persons I am fond of:

Such as my sister. A fifteen-year-old with a precocious savvy and insight into my own personal enlightenment. She gets me, and she loves me unconditionally. What kind of big brother wouldn't love her back with all the honesty in his heart?

Certainly not me. I don't have the guts to be so callous.

There are even persons whose presence and company I have learned to tolerate:

One Lux Harken. The Heads to my Tails, the Yin to my Yang, and the Light to my Dark. He is my opposite in essentially every manner you could think of—

And in a way, he is my equal. We travel together, out of necessity, of course, seeing as the road is long, hard, and unforgiving of even a moment of weakness. He and I disagree on a lot of things. We probably hate eachother, to be honest. But even so, whether we like it or not, we have eachother's backs.

Because we have to.

Anyways, no. "I hate people" does not mean I hold hate in my heart for every person, or even a general blanket hate for the population that you need to chip away at to gain my affection.

I'm not some shitty two-bit store-brand tsundere or kuudere. Give me credit when it's due.

I mean I hate "people": The nebulous, formless, ill-defined name for society. For normalness. For social hierarchies.

"People" isn't something that is worth loving. People tread upon you in their climb upward, people pull you down to their level or below when you achieve, people sacrifice your life and livelihood for the sake of their own. People lie, people cheat, people steal, and people who are loved by other people are probably in some fashion a liar, cheater, or thief.

If not, then they are loved because they are useful. What can you do for me? What have you done for me lately?

People love wrapping other people around their thumb, too.

"People" is a pack of wolves. Fitting, considering what social creatures we humans are.

There are parallels throughout the animal kingdom in any animal society. Carnivores have our social hierarchies. Any alpha gets the lion's share of the wealth an prosperity, only leaving what they cannot physically stomach for the betas to eat. The process continues down the line, and those who are left are reduced to gnawing upon bone, hoping for a scrap. From the betas on down, the lower strata of the pack also carry the burden of their failures to the end of the line.

Herbivores have our willingness to sacrifice eachother, to save ourselves. They feel neither guilt nor shame in leaving their old, their weak, or their sickly behind to pre-occupy the oncoming carnivores— better they than oneself. Even their young, they only give a token amount of protection towards. Additionally, they have our "herd mentality", although since we're a bit more enlightened than filthy beasts the common phrase is "mob mentality". They mindlessly follow whomever is in front of the crowd, while those individuals equally mindlessly respond to the surge of everything behind them, resulting in an aimless stampede driven by whims, emotions, and never logic.

Again, fitting: We humans are omnivorous. It stands to reason that since we both play predator and prey, eat both what we kill and what we take, that we adopt the traditions of both societies as well.

In this great metaphor, I suppose it makes me the lone wolf.

Not that it's all it's cracked up to be. A lone wolf isn't some badass who was too tough to rely upon his fellows, or was so capable they have no need for a pack.

No.

The Lone Wolf is a Stray Dog in fancy dressing. He has either lost or been kicked out of his pack, and is forcibly alone against the world because he does not fit, and is not accepted or accommodated anywhere. That's where society has greatly erred in it's romanticizing of the lone wolf.

If you must be solitary, be something that is naturally solitary. That is supposed to be solitary. That truly does have no need for others, aside from the token understood exception of passing on its genes.

That's why I don't wish to be a lone wolf.

Why would I? I would much rather be a bear.

A bear has no need for packs, and doesn't hold any delusions of them benefiting the individual when weighing pros and cons as a whole. It is strong on it's own.

I would much prefer that solitary path.

Unfortunately, though, I must play the wolf. An Omega, clinging to a small pack not out of desire, but out of need. True foolhardiness is traveling alone, when you're a normal person like me— that is to say, normal in capability. I am not a fool.

Having quietly tailed Lux at a small distance in this city, choked with tourists in the wake of the Grand Magic Games and just as dank and dirty and cacophonous as you like, I noticed him stopping to confront a strange scene head-on, as he always does.

Well, with his charisma, it's probably best I leave it to him and let him play his strengths.

He could negotiate and gather information, while I concerned myself with collating the data and considering my next move.

Ascetic Arts:(The 108 Skills of A Loner):Observational Technique: People-Watching.
Finding a nearby bench, I wearily plopped myself down and gazed their way, looking for all the world with my slumped posture and "dead-fish eyes" to simply be somebody trying to rest.

Which, of course, I was. I hated having to walk so much, and we had just finished lunch. He of all people, being in such stellar shape with that training regimen of his, should know that if you exercised too much on a full stomach, someone would end up seeing what their lunch looked like after mastication and the beginnings of digestion.

What insensitivity, Harken. How very like your type.


[System]
Age:
23
Gender:
Female
Race:
Nereid (Sea Nymph)
Class:
Assassin
 Magic Description:
Arcane
 Personality:
At first glance Echo appears to be friendly and warm, very welcoming to new comers and new situations. She believes in the term "keep your friends close, and your enemies closer". Her kind nature is often feigned and the moment she no longer considers it useful to be your "friend" she becomes as cold as stone. Some have been known to call her fake, but she prefers to keep people people on their toes and constantly asking themselves what she might do next. She has always been a very independent soul, never relying on friendships or family for that matter. Echo tends to be very sneaky, as she has always been a curious individual and ends up sticking her nose in places that it doesn't belong. Though her curious, independent nature got her into numerous amounts of trouble as a child, it has proved useful later in life.
Who you were:
Echo grew up on the coast of a small island by the name of Linde, or what some people liked to call "The Dragon's Lair." While the island was mostly inhabited by her own kind, it did indeed harbor a great dragon. Luckily for her people, the dragon tolerated their existence so long as nothing the dragon considered valuable was stolen from it. The nymphs provided outside protection on the waters, as a common pass time in her culture would be to lure sailors to their deaths, and the dragon allowed them to live there - also providing protection against hopeful colonists occasionally.
The young nymph grew up with a single mother - her father having never been in the picture, and her mother never wanting to talk about it. Echo's mother taught her the ways in deception initially, as she would often travel to a more inhabited isle and coax men out of their money. It was easy for a nymph, considering their natural allure could easily deprive any other race of their senses.
Several days after Echo's 15th birthday her mother sold her for a fairly hefty amount to a recruitment scout for assassin training. The scouts often came to Linde looking for nymph recruits, considering their natural ability to deceive others. Echo had no other choice, but she left without a fight to the southern island of Llanda - a cold and snow filled area completely opposite of Linde. In Llanda she learned the ways of an assassin, taking her first kill at age 16. By the time she was 18 Echo was released from the training and allowed to take contracts on her own.
To her own misfortune she recently took up a contract for the assassination of a knight close in the circle of the Grand Marquess Edun Lonefire. What he did to get his name written on that contract she didn't know, and didn't care, but she would get the job done. Or, at least, planned to get the job done. Until she ran into a person who was there for a different contract, who nearly got them caught, and who bested her in a hand to hand combat fight that ultimately knocked her out. The next thing she knew she was being swarmed by guards, unaware of anything. Not even who she was, or why she was there.

[User]
She wasn't special. If she was special she's know it right? Granted, she didn't seem to know much these days. Who killed the beloved son? What her own name was. Things. She attempted to be stoic about everything, keeping her face impassive. Lately it was just exhausted. The escape had been a whirlwind and it hadn't stopped being so. She hadn't had a chance to sort through everything that happened yet. And currently she was stuck on why. Why she, among these other strangers, was freed. Why none of them spoke. Not that she could complain, she hadn't said much thus far either.

Was this what freedom felt like? She didn't know if she'd ever been free, she assumed she must have been at some point. This wasn't quite it. Not yet.

She was among those that didn't smell anything untoward. Nothing special.

And then all of Zeal's hard work on her stoic expression simply melted away. A giant of a man in armour that, for some reason, stabbed at her gut (was it longing?) seemed to appear out of no where. How had they not noticed him? How had they not noticed -her-? The elven woman's face finally showed something other than weariness. Fear, irritation, the desire to hit something. She, too, hesitated when told to run. Her gaze swept the ground, seeking a possible weapon. Nothing, damn.

Another of the prisoner's was beckoning. Zeal loosed a series of curses, mostly revolving around the genitalia of gods, and then took off, long legs carrying her hurriedly, adrenaline giving life to said limbs.

[Assistant]
Memory of her crime had escaped her mind. Of course, memory of a lot of things had escaped her mind, including the details of her personal life and anything beyond the past week. The last thing she could remember was waking up a slave, being tortured and worked to near death every day. This experience had effectively suppressed her imagination or curiosity and Grinn had seemingly accepted her fate, awaiting execution with patience. It wasn't until the old stranger had freed them that her mind began to wander. Who was she? What did she do to deserve this? Why couldn't she remember when so much seemed to come as instinct?

 Even with her newly found freedom, Grinn had little time to think all of this through. They had escaped but were still in danger, hiding their position from prying eyes and careful to avoid any and all potential enemies. Who ever these people were that Grinn had escaped with were connected to her and they were all wanted for something that had apparently earned them extreme hatred. For all she knew, there could be people waiting at every corner for them.

 The group was suddenly stopped when a man in armor had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. What ever thoughts that were crossing Grinn's mind had slipped away as a surge of energy burst through her body. If she weren't more reserved, she would have already charged forward, unarmed and screaming, attacking the sudden threat. Grinn felt that if they were attacked, she wouldn't be able to help herself.

 When another figure suddenly appeared, Grinn was aware of the developing situation. They had been hunted down by who had likely been bounty hunters. The man who had freed them from captivity beckoned for the escaped slaves to run. It felt as though every fiber of her being was fighting this command, nearly forcing her to join him. However, she pushed herself to run, following those who had already began making the sprint toward the crags.

 Whether she would stick with these people or not was debatable but she knew that her best chances would be with them at this moment in time.

[User]
A cage. A stupid cage for two FULL weeks. The fairy fluttered angrily with a bunch of strangers remembering her horrendous time in the slave camp. She would've rather wanted to do labor work than be somebody's pet. Her body glowed brightly as sparkles came from under her wings. Her slave clothes disgusted her for some reason... they were not appealing at all. The little one did contemplate whether or not she murdered someone... something told her she wasn't the most lucky person and that it was highly possible... BUT that was simply her intuition. All the guards doubted she was capable of such crime. Being big-mean-jerks while she was behind bars. She hated small spaces. She hated THAT cage.

WHAT IF SHE DID KILL THIS REALLY IMPORTANT PERSON?! A fairy could be just as much of a murderer as a big, scary orc!

She looked at the female orc beside her and tilted her head. Out of all the others running, the orc was the most intimidating one, along with the old man but that was besides the point. Perhaps simply misunderstood. What if they all were misunderstood?

Huffing to herself for thinking too much, not liking how blank her mind felt, she focused on following their savior. The old man leading them seemed to have his fair share of battles. He was a top notch professional and he achieved a great feat by helping them escape! For now, she'd stay quiet and hope they would find a safe haven. The people accused for the same murder were all very strange... her insides told her that they weren't stupid enough to kill Mr. Lonefire, the son of the Grand Marquess. But who knows! In this moment, they were all murderers until proven innocent. Stupid system.

Her face saddened. That can't be true, right? She began hitting her head to remember things, "Think Noli! Think!"  Until the party came to a full stop. Floating in the air by most of the heads of the group, she realized the old man was about to get in a brawl with an immensely large, giant of a man and a small, snowy-haired girl.

"They think they're tuff shots hmmm! Obviously , they're not good enough if they need to be together." She was ready to throw something at them, but only fairy dust seemed to come out... she was not very effective. The old man gave her glaring eyes and the fairy retreated behind the priest, "PROTECT ME HUMANNNNN." She decided to rest herself on his head.

Sitting on his head, she pointed in the direction the old man directed them to follow, "WE GO HUMAN!" She looked at the other party members, not really caring how they thought of her tiny self and said, "Lets get to steppin', you heard the Mister!".

She giggled in excitement, this was so much better than a cage, "We got exploring to do!"

[Assistant]
This entire situation felt like a dream... no, a nightmare. Two weeks ago she woke up without any memory of who she was, or why she was being harassed by men clad in armor accusing her of some murder she had no recollection of. Thereafter she was dragged to a slave camp, tortured for what seemed like days on end, and forced to labor in their dirty mines. The brutes even left welts, bruises and cuts all over her body - they seemed to like her face when they felt particularly frustrated. "Let's mess up that pretty face of yours, doll." they'd say, "Then we'll see if you talk." They never believed a word she said, accusing her of working with several others who she also didn't know. Who was actually evil here? Them or her? Perhaps it really was her. Sometimes she wondered, as she lay in her cell staring at the cold stone walls before day break and the nightmare started all over again.

Either way, execution day came and the slavers still had no confession from her or the others they thought she was working with. At least it would have come had a mysterious figure not come to their rescue the night before. At that point Echo had been looking forward to her own death, as she felt so worn down and tired that it no longer mattered to her. Being free of the slave camp would be enough, even if it was in the after life. That and the fact that she had no idea who she was or her own purpose in life helped her make that quiet decision with herself. However, this mysterious man who called himself Tychus of Shattergarde had other plans for her life. Yet again, she had become another pawn in someone else's hands.

The man was insanely talented, she would give him that much. Somehow he managed to take out all of the guardsmen in the camp and free her and the others accused of Tancred Lonefire's murder. Whether or not he was by himself she wasn't sure, but he currently led her and this small group of misfits by himself. Initially she had asked questions after escaping; who was he? Why did he release them? Where was he taking them? Who were these people? Did he know who killed the Grand Marquess' son? It wasn't her, was it? To be fair, she had a lot of questions that he could not answer at that time. Tychus only told her that she would know in time, and she best keep quiet or risk revealing them all. Understanding, she remained quiet for the rest of the long journey, occasionally eyeing the rest of the group with her pale green eyes.

"Do you smell that?"

Her thoughts broke and she glanced up at Tychus. He smelt something? Was he part canine? All she smelt was lilacs, which she had realized earlier that she hated. At least, if anything, she knew that she hated lilac. Perhaps she should have told someone to write that on her grave stone, considering what was about to appear before her. "Here lies Echo Notaras. A person with great distaste for lilac."

Her own banter in her head quieted as Tychus motioned for the group to start jogging. She felt so exhausted that jogging seemed impossible. They hadn't even stopped once since escaping save a few seconds pause, how did he expect them to run? The rest looked just as run down as she did, perhaps more so. Nonetheless, she gathered all the energy she had left in her tiny body and did as he asked.

"In the name of the Grand Marquess, drop your weapons and surrender!"

Echo's heart dropped at the sudden voice booming through the valley. It felt familiar, but as she looked at the massive knight before them she could not bring a name to mind. Why did she have the feeling in the back of her mind that she knew this behemoth? There was no time to ponder on it, as Tychus quickly drew his sword. Just as rapidly a snake of a woman revealed herself from the grass. "How did we miss them?" She thought, baffled. "How long have they been following us?"

As the women approached, yelling at Tychus, Echo's heart began to race. She almost felt frozen in place, unsure of what to do. Was she supposed to roll over and be captured or not go without a fight? Which would be the worse option? Apparently, Tychus opted for the latter.

"All of you, run towards the crags. These two are way above your skill right now. You'll find a passageway in there that will take you to where you'll find answers. I'll hold these guys off... Just don't die."

She stared at the older man as he sprang forward and attacked the two, then glanced toward the rest of the group. They all began running as Tychus said, and Echo had the brief thought of running in the other direction. Perhaps running with them until the very end, slinking off by herself when no one was paying attention. She could escape on her own, couldn't she? Why did she need the rest of this group?

"Of course I need them. What good is a girl on her own who remembers nothing about herself?" She thought, realizing she would have no clue what the next step would be had she been able to disappear on her own. That, or those two hunters would notice and she would have been easily picked off when alone. Convinced, she began running toward the crags with the others.

Echo briefly glanced back at Tychus, witnessing several copies of himself fighting against the two rivals. Quite amazing, if you asked her. Who was this "Shadow Reaver" anyway?


[System]
Bravo of the Sedent Tribe Barbarians

Age: 20

Physical Description:

* 5'9", 150#
* Physically fit, strong.
* Inverted triangle body type. Lean and healthy.
* Aloof, pale gray eyes.
* Dark hair, kept uncut and unstyled.
* Various scars.

Personality:

* Independent, impulsive, haughty.
* Cunning, but completely uneducated.
* Very emotional, with bad coping skills. When feeling an extreme emotion, he will bottle it up until he unleashes it in a single outburst.
* Disdainful of those not of his tribe. It was his tribe's custom not to respect any outsider's property, person or laws that they could not enforce.

History:
 Kengetar is a young man of the Sedent Tribe Barbarians, who have gone countless generations unconcerned with the rise and fall of the Yalla Republic or any other nation thanks to there remote Southern location. The Sedents are a brutal tribe, and xenophobic to boot. Adulthood in the Sedent Tribe is achieved by ritual tests of pain endurance and participating in raids upon their neighbors. The Sedents are protected from reprisals by their fierce fighting ability as well as their fearsome reputation. Kengetar remains in an awkward stage in life, as he is now considered an adult, but has not yet married or settled into a profession. This is in part because he has not yet performed a deed noteworthy enough for honor, but also because his unfettered emotions have cause elders in his tribe to consider him too impatient for a trade, and too dangerous to be let alone with their daughters.

[User]
Barely conscious, Kengetar found himself being forced to his feet and led away from the huddled circle of wounded captives by a large Northerner. As he was brought unsteadily to his feet, a second Northman locked a pair of iron shackles around his ankles, with a chain and a second pair of shackles ready for his wrists. As he tried to reach down and throw off his imprisoner, the first Northerner grabbed his arms and whispered in his ear words that chilled his blood.

"If you do anything we don't tell you to," he hissed, "anything at all, the children of your rathole village will have their own entrails for gibbets."

Stunned by the threat, Kengetar allowed the shackles to be placed upon him. He was then brought to the rear of one of the invaders' carts and forced to unload their baggage, like the rest of his people who were still standing. It was slow going. Kengetar was still bleary, and each time he dropped something or slowed down, the guard that had been assigned to him would threaten him and smack the backs of his legs with the flat of a sword. But despite his pain and shame, Kengetar refused to show any sign of weakness to his captors, except for the occasional stumble or fall that he was unable to control.

Kengetar remembered that the battle had begun with arrows shot at the Northerners' messengers, but after they had returned with the full horde and broken through the village wall, he and the other bravos tried to retreat back towards the houses. Kengetar had been one of the last to abandon his post however, and was slower than some of his kin, and when a rider overtook him and struck him on the back of his skull with a club, he lost consciousness. Once he had awakened, the battle was already over. Kengetar knew the wound had brought forth blood, but the chains he now wore made it impossible for him to raise his hands and check if it had stopped bleeding. He caught glances around him, and was disgusted by what he saw. The houses were burning, and his people were now chained out in the rain. He saw the treasures of his people being passed around as booty, and their livestock being slaughtered to fatten their destroyers. He heard the weeping of the women and children, and he could very well guess what their fate would be after the invaders tired of them.

After Kengetar had stumbled too many times and dropped too many loads, it became obvious that Kengetar was no longer suited for unloading carts. So Kengetar was then set to the impossible task of finding dry wood for burning on the muddy ground. The chain connecting his wrists and knees forced Kengetar to get down on all fours to grasp through the muck. He still didn't understand what made him special compared to the other captives. He had clearly been set apart from all his kin and the guard that watched him hadn't taken his eyes off him once, when other guards were left in charge of a handful of slaves each. The cold rain dripped down Kengetar's hair and around the contours of his face, hiding his tears. Anger and hatred blazed in his heart. He swore to himself to find a way to escape and free his people. Even the threat of the children's lives didn't hold him back, as he was sure that death would be a more merciful fate for them than whatever these monsters had in store for them.

[Assistant]
Almost an hour after entering it, Melody emerged from the conflagration that once was the barbarian clan's village, her face tattoos almost imperceptible beneath the soot and ash that the on again, off again sprinkles had smudged upon her skin. A dozen men and twice as many women were either following her or waiting for her at the community's edge; they'd pillaged the buildings not afire or risked entering those that had been to salvage as many items of value as they could.

"Take it all to the tent, Kapiten" she instructed her senior military officer as he arrived. "I'll be in my tent, which I assume is standing...?"

"It is, m'lady," the man named Broon acknowledged. "It will still be some time before the fire is--"

She waved off the remainder of his news and gestured him back to his duties. The Captain passed Melody's instructions to the others, directing them to a large tent that was just moments away from being fully erect and secured. Broon gave sharp glares to those pillagers who might be contemplating keeping the more valuable items for themselves.

Unlike many cultures where battlefield loot was kept by he or she who'd discovered it, Clan Yalla was well disciplined to deliver every coin, cloak, candlestick, and chamber pot to a specified location for disbursing by Melody herself. The division of the spoils would have to wait, though; the smoke and soot were becoming annoying, and all Melody wanted was to strip out of her filthy field clothes and wash herself clean.

"M'lady!" an older woman, Haanya, called out with surprise when she saw Melody enter the tent. She rushed from the crackling, still growing fire assist her Mistress out of her weapons belt, cloak, leather armor, and layers of outer and inner clothing, all the time chastising her quietly for walking into the burning village. "You are the Lady, m'lady. You have people to do these dangerous things. Why you go into fire and get your clothes dirty and face dirty and hands dirty and..."

Melody had ceased listening to the old woman long ago, having heard it all before. The Lady as Haanya had called her had never been a stand back and watch the action type of leader. Sure, she hadn't engaged directly in today's fighting, but that was only because she'd hoped there wouldn't be any. More often than not, the leader of Clan Yalla was right in the violent mix of things, as the dozen or so scars gracing her body from the back of her neck to her belly to both arms and her left leg would attest. Haanya -- who because of her age and years of service to Melody -- felt far more comfortable with chastising her Mistress than did the typical slave, and one of her more often spoken complaints was that the 20 year old woman was far too young -- and beautiful -- a woman to be displaying so much dëme të shëmtuara -- ugly damage -- on display when she undressed for a bath ... or for a man.

"Men like scars," Melody told the woman for the umpteenth time when again she got dressed down while literally dressing down for a bath. "They are a measurement of life experiences."

Haanya guffawed: "On another man, yes, m'lady; not on a woman. You should be sitting in an elegant chair wearing satin and jewels while men kneel before you, laying gold and silver at your feet in the hopes of seeing your unscarred body naked in the marital bed he hopes to share with you upon your wedding night, not riding a horse into battles for which you have men who will gladly give their lives for you."

Melody laughed loudly, moving across to the wood cask tub into which three slave girls had been dumping pitchers of hot water. She ran a hand across the surface, finding its temperature perfect. As she stepped carefully into the almost too hot water, she said to Haanya yet again, "Those men of whom you speak, the ones who will gladly give their lives for me ... how long would they continue to do so if I did not show them that I, too, was willing to give my life for them?"

As the woman better than twice Melody's age began a long, rapid rant in her first language, she moved to behind her Mistress and began the time-consuming task of loosing her small-of-the-back length hair from its braids until finally it was fully freed. Melody only laid back into the water and let the heat envelope her. Haanya delivered a platter of cut up meats, cheeses, fruits, and more to a little table to her Mistress's left; she put a large glass of thick red wine on the matching but oppositely place table.

"Call the Kapiten, please, Haanya," she said as her head fell back and her eyes closed; the steaming water was already having the expected effect. The slave woman did as told, and Broon arrived shortly thereafter; he saluted with his head bob and fist to his armored chest, showing no reaction to clearly being able to see his Lady's dark, pert nipples just barely above the already dirty water. "That slave you put to work..."

"Yes, m'lady," he confirmed recalling which man about whom she spoke. "He is gathering wood for your fire."

"Bring him to me," she instructed. "I wish to talk to him."

The Captain only stared for a moment. Only now -- and just for a brief moment before again looking up -- did he let his gaze fall conspicuously to her display of womanly perfection: "Now, m'lady? Would you like to finish your--"

"Now, Captain," Melody insisted. "And ... I need you to do something else for me, too."

She gave Broon his second instruction and the man departed. Melody slipped down beneath the water's surface, ran her hands through her hair as it floated in the water, then lifted her head above the surface and smoothed it back away from her face. A guard entered, followed by the Sedent barbarian and yet another guard. Melody had returned to her previous position; once again, the brown nubs decorating her firm, young round breasts were visible just above the gently moving water.

A moment later, the Captain returned as well; he manhandled an uncooperative yet obviously frightened Sedent girl of perhaps 6 years of age off to one side of the tent. Melody looked to the two guards and said, "You may leave. But first ... unshackle my newest slave."

They didn't move, but when their Mistress repeated her orders and threatened the removal of their left nuts if they didn't obey, they each hurried to get the shackles off the man before hurrying out of the tent. Melody gave the barbarian a slow, up and down survey, then said to him in a polite tone, "Take your clothes off. I want to see all that I will be selling at the slave market come Full Moon."

He didn't seem to enthusiastic to do as Melody requested, so she glanced Broon's way. The Captain pulled his knife and held it tightly against the little girl's neek. Melody said with a soft, almost loving tone, "Please."

[User]
When Kengetar was shoved into the big tent, still muddy and bloody, he was prepared for the worst. When he saw the young girl enter shortly after him, his sense of trepidation grew. But when the naked woman in the tent ordered his shackles to be removed, and his guards to leave, his fear turned to confusion. He looked at the woman, who was apparently some sort of leader to these reavers, and appraised her with his distant, gray gaze.

The woman was enclosed about by what was, by his tribe's standards, decadent opulence. The large tent was carpeted and hung with tapestries. There were slaves to prepared to pour hot water into a private bath, within reach of which was rich food and drink. By all conventional wisdom the person who dwelt in such surroundings could only be soft and weak. But that's not what he saw.

The woman languorously lying in the tub was muscled and scarred, and like Kengetar, her body was marked according to her peoples' customs. While her marks were different from the Sedents', they were similar enough that Kengetar could still read them. The marks around her forehead, nose, and lips stated that she was of a warrior caste, much like Kengetar.

Kengetar's analysis was halted, when the woman impetuously ordered him to take his clothes off! His hackles raised at being ordered to do anything by someone who was not his elder. Immediately, Kengetar began calculating ways he might take his revenge. His first thought was to attack her and attempt to drown her in the tub, but he realized that even if he somehow succeeded, he would not be able to stop the remaining guard from slashing the neck of the girl, then slaying him in turn.

So, he realized that he would have to play along for now. He turned to the young girl and ran his hand down over his eyes in a mimic gesture, while mothing the word "close." Once he was sure the girl had shut her eyes tight, he turned back to face this foreign woman and removed his clothes.

Since the Sedents lived in the far South, where the climate was often warm, its people had no call to wear much clothing. Kengetar only had a loincloth and a pair of soft leather shoes, after his piecemeal armor had been taken from him while he was unconscious. After removing these bits, Kengetar looked straight ahead, with his arms by his sides. He would not show any vulnerability to this woman, even in his sorry state. He deliberately avoided looking at her perfect chest or her entrancing eyes so that his body would not betray him. His chest and arms were lined with the mementos of previous trials, whose scarflesh were ghostly white against his already pale skin. Where the scars were absent, his skin had remained smooth and unblemished.