[System]
Age: 22
Gender: Male

Weapon: Studded Gloves. Fights with a semi-exaggerated flourish, using elements of boxing and kickboxing. Can layer his Stand over himself to benefit from its abilities, to a lesser degree.

Personality:
Think of the stereotypical anime anti-hero, and you honestly have Xander in a nutshell. He tends to approach things from his own standpoint, often indifferent to the matters of people and the world around him - of course, that's not to say such things may occasionally align. His standard range of facial emotions ranges from a stern, neutral look to a hard-eyed frown; in this way, Xander is fairly well-tempered, though is not above the use of violence as a solution. Don't mistake him for an ally, for his partnership comes and goes as he pleases, however the man decides it benefits him. Despite what you may think, Xander doesn't actually lie at all; he simply tells as much truth as he needs to.

Stand Name: Dragonforce

(without the sword, obviously)
Stand Ability:
This Stand can defy air drag at will, allowing it to exhibit much more force than nature typically allows. While this ability seems awfully simple, it combines with Dragonforce's great power and insane speed to make him a lightning-fast bruiser, dishing out high-speed movement and rapid smashing attacks with minimal effort or buildup. A side effect of this is that Dragonforce's quick movements will push air around quite easily; it is quite possible for Dragonforce to deliberately 'throw' wind at objects to knock them off-balance. The primary disadvantage of Dragonforce is that it lacks any ranged options, and so relies on Xander's own movements to get close enough to dish out damage.

Destructive Power: B
Speed: A
Range: E
Durability: C
Precision: D

What is courage? To become one with fear itself.

[User]
Izayoi Grand Hospital - Yosuke Tsukino

Gibson, still nervous and hazy presumably, tried to remember for Yosuke. Yosuke smiled encouragingly as his comrade gathered himself and pulled all the details he could out of the mental fog.

"I'm sorry... I only just woke up, I... don't know if she's in this room, m- maybe in another ward? I apologize, that's all I know right now, last thing I remembered was... something in my chest... a wave of... cold? Followed by pain... Does that sound familiar?" Gibson explained. Yeah, yeah that did sound at least little reminiscent. Did they all get shot? A drive-by? They had recently assaulted someone, so it made sense. The only odd man out was the angry man, he wasn't there. Had both Yosuke and Gibson just forgotten about him?

The angry man got up, struggling even to speak. He must have gotten hit with a big brunt of the damage. He also asked about what the hell had happened, apparently everyone thought everyone else had all the answers. Or maybe it was that they hoped, that everyone else had all the answers. Gibson stuttered out an another answer, but this one was a bit more interesting. He described a black bullet, apparently magnetized to people. Yosuke found that a bit strange, but didn't question it. Maybe Gibson was hallucinating, or misremembering events. But whatever. Apparently they had been out for 18 hours, so Yosuke's parent's would be pissed, so that was another layer on top of the unfortunate events.

"That also begs me to ask... You felt the chest pains too, right? A feeling of... some sort of cold revitalisation, followed by... agony...? Like me? Me and Yosuke woke up with the same pain, i'm starting to think it's not a coincidence..." Gibson asked, trying to find out more about the situation. Yosuke thought that all this being related was pretty obvious, what with all of them except the angry man being in the same place, at the same time. He was really the linchpin, wasn't he? There were more important things to ask him, surely.

Yosuke opened up his mouth to intercept the question and ask the more important question of where he was and what he was doing before all this, but as soon as a syllable left his mouth, Yosuke heard the sound of a body slamming onto a hard tile floor. Tommy had fallen on the floor and mumbled something, probably cursing the pain or questioning his current situation, or both. He then got up, slowly, and made his way over to a wheelchair. The girl he had just met, Ram something-or-other, got up too, questioning everyone's health. Yosuke rubbed his chest a little. Still hurt, but whatever, he was tough, he could take it. "I'm, uh, I'm fine."

James McAfee, that guy Yukari had told him about, was also here. He too, confirmed he was well enough, minus the crippling chest pain. He seemed to have woken up earlier, having heard Gibson's recount of the tales, and confirming their accuracy, albeit while having nothing to contribute of his own. He did, however, remember that there was a "Nurse Call" button in hospitals, and gladly pressed it for them. Yosuke tuned everyone else out as he waited for the nurse. As soon as he heard the door click open, he attempted to bound to his feet. He grossly overestimated his current strength, however, and almost fell, grabbing the night stand at the last second. He shakily stood up, put on his glasses, and looked to the nurse. "Hey, Sir, do you know where Yukari Taiyo is? She's a little shorter than me, black skirt teal top, black hair, ringing any bells? Please?" Yosuke asked desperately. The man simply sighed and looked down. "I'm probably not supposed to tell you this, but you seem like a close friend, so... I'm sorry to inform you she passed away."

YoYo's eyes widened, and tears started forming. "W-what?" He asked, with a shaky voice. He must've misheard the man or... or something. "I'm sorry for your loss..." Was everything else the nurse said on the matter. YoYo blinked back tears and bit his lip. He refused to accept. Surely she had gotten out of the way, the nurse was... was lying. He shakily sighed and sat back on his bed, before lifting his glasses and wiping the spare tears that managed to slip past him. He quickly cleared his throat, and decided to focus on other things. "S-so, uh... what's up? How Ya'll- How you guys holdin' up?" YoYo asked with a silent sniffle and a smile even he could tell was faked. He just wanted someone or something to just... distract him. He didn't want to think. Not about her, about yet another person ripped from his grasp.

[Assistant]
Izayoi Grand Hospital - Ram Jam

Someone... had died? Yosuke's friend died? The news somehow hit Ramika even harder than the bullet did. She got up, shakily hobbling towards Yosuke.

"Oh Yoyo..." she said, doing her best to comfort him by wrapping him in a warm hug.

It was an odd feeling when someone like Yukari passed away. You didn't know them. You could never pretend to. They were someone who'd only been in your life for a few seconds at most, but when they left... somehow, in its own way, it was even more devastating than losing a close relative. When the victim is someone you know, it's easy to rationalize their death away as having meaning or purpose, some sort of role to play in the story of your life, where you're the protagonist. When your uncle or your father dies, it feels like Luke losing Obi-wan. It's crippling and tragic, but also empowering in the things they'd left you in your passing. Experience, determination, humility. Things like that.

But when someone you barely know dies, the death feels somehow senseless. They weren't detached enough from you to feel like another nameless victim, but not close enough that you'd know anything about them. You had no relationship to them. All that left was a feeling of emptiness and recognition of how cruel the world could be. Someone else, maybe someone you do know well, just lost their Obi-wan, and all you could do for them as you watched them suffer through the loss was grieve with them. It made Ramika feel so powerless.

[User]
Izayoi Grand Hospital -Goichi

"Gott in Himmel!"

Goichi's voice boomed across the hospital room and his lungs punished him for the effort. He blinked carefully in the harsh lights and tried to catch his breath from the exertion of his waking shout. He was rewarded for his efforts with a hammer blow on his chest that refused to go away. Every breath hurt, his ribs were probably cracked. He tried to remember what had caused this, but his memory didn't make any sense. He remembered something piercing The other people in the impromptu little group he was in, a flashing thing that could change direction in the air and pierced them through the hearts. Must have been a dream hallucination or something.

He pushed the thoughts from his head, instead focusing on his immediate surroundings. The strangers he had "met" earlier were here with him, but he could have sworn there was somebody missing. A girl maybe? He could have sworn there were at least two girls there, and the one he had nearly decked was accounted for. Several of them were standing now and a nurse was in the room. Time to get some answers,he thought. With a struggling wheeze he pushed himself off the bed and swung himself onto the ground, landing on his feet uneasily. He grabbed his jacket off of a hook near the bed and began to walk over to the others, the first steps unsure but slowly getting more sure as he went. He slipped the jacket onto his soldiers but decided against buttoning it up while his torso was still stuck in the industrial press. He got up to the small group clustered near the nurse and cleared his throat to speak "What the hell happened to uh..."the sentence trailing off into the ether as realization hit him.

"Oh Yoyo..."

Goichi looked at him then. He saw that there were tears in his eyes and his mouth was twisted into the kind of false, saccharine-laced, smile that only comes with bad news. He knew then, where the other girl had gone. And a rage began to build in his chest, burning him worse than the pain that already dwelt there. He knew that he had no reason to be so upset, he hardly knew the girl, didn't even know what got her let alone everyone who was still standing here. It could have been an auto accident, a truck whose breaks failed or something. There was no reason to think it was premeditated or that there was even a person to hold accountable. All he had was a gut feeling and he'd acted on less than that in the past. It was enough for Goichi to be sure that when he found whoever it was that did this to them he was going to tear them limb from limb. Enough to know that there was not a single force in the goddamned world that would get between him and whoever it was that was responsible.

"My god."In the end, for all his bravado and righteous fury, they were the only words that would come out of his mouth. There would be time for talk of revenge and justice and all kinds of theatrical crap like them later. For now they just needed to know what happened. "Does anybody know how we even got here? I remember getting stabbed by a flying...thing but it all seems so weird and nothing makes sense."

[Assistant]
Izayoi Grand Hospital - Xander Johannes
TIME: 6:08 AM
DATE: August 19

"I- I- I... I d- d- don't k- k- know... Everything s- stopped moving... I saw people... excreting blood from their bodies and... black, like a bullet magnetized to a person... and I was in its range..."

"Why does everything hurt so much?... I think I want to go home now."

"What... the hell happened? Are you okay, guys?"

"...But... that's impossible...! Things like that don't exist...!"

Good lord. This business with the odd projectile seemed to have no rhyme or reason to it. At least, having experienced brutal damage before, Xander was able to cope with his own physical harm. These other folks probably had never felt a worse pain in their life, and they were suffering because of this. Was it just by chance that he, and all these others, were the only ones not brutally slain? Xander wasn't sure he wanted to know for certain.

"I'm sorry. We were all within sight of one another during the event. There was someone else, a young lady as described by Mr. Yoyo. I'm afraid you're the odd man out, Mr...?"

That man... not somebody Xander immediately recognized, but it invoked a feeling of somebody of high status. Maybe an philosopher of some renown? That was the feeling he got from the stranger. This assumed attack really didn't have any sort of trend to its victims. Sneering through the pain pressing on his torso, Xander sat up fully, intending to get out of bed in due time.

"Just call me Xander. I was heading by Chromatus Tower, when- well, whatever this was, happened."

Against the complaints of his burning chest, Xander stretched out a bit in his sitting position. At least he wasn't hurting quite as bad, anymore - it was more of a dull, roaring sting in his chest to remind him of this incident. There was something bigger at work here, Xander felt, and he wanted some idea of what it was, no matter how poor of judgement it was to pursue it. There was no way a tough man like him was going to be held down by some supernatural attack when he came out of it technically unscathed.

Someone had called for the nurse, as she came walking through the door as Xander was about to throw his legs over the side of the bed. 'YoYo' was quick to ask about someone - a sister, or something like that. The nurse had little else to offer but the cold, hard truth: she was dead. Died, of course, from that arrow plowing right through her... YoYo couldn't take it. He broke down crying, the others at his side consoling him for his sudden loss. Xander could only grit his teeth and his fists in anger. For them being the only ones to survive being struck, many more must've died.

His thoughts flashed back to that split-second glimpse of that hapless child, killed instantly when the projectile made a tunnel though his skull. These were innocent people, going about their day as any normal person would, only to be instantly destroyed without precedence. Someone, whoever it was that unleashed that golden arrow, was going to pay very dearly for this-!!

"Wait, sir, you must lay down and rest, you were-"

"Eighteen hours is plenty of sleep," Xander deadpanned seriously, continuing his small ordeal of standing up out of bed. With a final groan, he fixed his posture upright, stretching himself out a bit more. He was stiff and aching for having been unconscious for a while - maybe he'd actually have to go home first and get himself into shape again. And he never really had gotten those drinks...

"If you'd like to help, you could point me to the exit. I have a mission to go through with."


[System]
Age: 38

Occupation/Affiliation: Boss, Korean Mob

Physical Description: George Choi is a slight, short man of Korean descent. He prefers to have his longish hair slicked back against his head. His style of dress is somewhat ostentatious- bright print shirts, leather jackets, Oliver Peoples sunglasses, and of course the newly released Air Jordan XIII.

History: Choi's parents, sensing the impending conflict, left Korea in 1949 for a new life in the United States. Settling in Koreatown, they had their first child, named George in honor of the first president of their new home. George grew up speaking both English and Korean, and was bright enough, but struggled in school, often cutting class to make trouble with other kids his age. These hoods soon came to look to him as a leader. He dropped out of high school, much to his parent's disappointment, and soon graduated to more serious crime.

With a few other local hoodlums he began to integrate himself into the world of organized crime in Los Angeles. They stuck mostly to Koreatown, extorting money from local shopkeepers and running illegal games of cards and dice. Their most profitable operations were the occasional drug deal, but without a source of supply George Choi found these opportunities were few and far between. Still, the late 70s and 80s saw George slowly growing in influence, managing to recruit more and more men and find new opportunities.

The 1992 riots were devastating to Koreatown but beneficial to the gang. Plenty of angry and embittered young Korean men felt that they were alone and without allies in this city. Choi capitalized on their discontent, pushing a message of empowerment and solidarity that enticed many new members into the fold. The organization has nearly tripled in size in the past five years, going from a gang to a mob. Not all the new recruits are simple thugs, either. Some are former soldiers, fresh from service in the American or South Korean forces. Others are educated and trained professionals, including a few chemists with interesting ideas about a certain newly popular drug that can be made from materials as common as drugstore pseudoephedrine.

With so much new talent, Choi is beginning to eye expanding his operations to new neighborhoods and higher-class organized crime. There is plenty of competition in this city, of course, but Choi feels opportunity will knock shortly.

[User]
18th March, 1997

The young man was only 19 years old. He had fallen into crime at a young age. Growing up to a poorer family in LA, that would sometimes seem inevitable. But his latest foray into unsavoury activity would turn out to be a grave mistake. A few nights ago he had cornered what seemed to be a regular old man, walking down a seedy street on his own in the middle of the night. The young boy had pulled a gun on him, taken his wallet then disappeared into the night, happy with his crime. That old man, however, while retired, nonetheless had a very shady past to say the least, and was very well connected - but most importantly, a fiery and ruthless temper. So someone was on their way.

Álvaro leaned his head to the door, hearing for noise within. The TV was turned up extremely and scarce else could be heard from within the run down apartment. Methodically, he picked open the lock, before creeping inside. The sound of the television masked his footsteps, and before long he was directly behind the old man. Pulling out a handgun, Álvaro suddenly brought it to the side of the man's head and fired without hesitation. He slumped down, and Álvaro placed the gun in the now deceased man's hand with his own gloved ones. After searching for the old man's wallet and finding it, he left.

"It's done."

The call was swift, and Álvaro tossed his gloves in the back seat - they would need to be burned later - before getting into his car and driving away from his most recent assignment. It was a relatively cool spring afternoon in Los Angeles and Álvaro enjoyed the car ride - or perhaps he enjoyed it because he knew that payment awaited at the end.

As he drove along he couldn't help but notice a considerable slowing of the traffic. But that wasn't anything out of the ordinary. This was LA, after all, the city of traffic. The thing that suddenly became unusual was the loud thundering of a helicopter over head. Álvaro glanced out of his window. A news copter. He glanced back at the gloves. No, of course not. The kid was just some low life.

A large clump of cars rapidly coming closer up ahead was in a complete standstill, beyond them, he could see the flashing lights of the police. He wasn't going anywhere now, certainly not towards his payment. Álvaro sighed. The police holding shit up for their little theatrics again. He got out of his car and walked up to the gathering crowd. A more chaotic scene awaited his eyes than he expected. Much more cops, all of whom looked vaguely uneasy. Not regular nerves, just general unease.

A large cop, one with striking blonde hair caught his eye for a a moment before Álvaro looked past him to try and find somewhere to squeeze his car by. He eventually spotted it and slipped away from the murmuring crowd. He could get enough information on what happened from the news, anyway.

The hired gun got in his car and squeezed the car down a small road running parallel to the scene. A green SUV surrounded by cops was all he caught sight of before he continued down and away from the scene. Payment was finally back on the way.

[Assistant]
The First Day of the Rest of Your Life
March 18th, 1997

---

Smog snuffed radiance, and spring did little to ease one's mind. A fan circled its near perpetual dance above Kentrell's head and he was staring at the fan as it turned. It was mid-day, the stove crackled flame, Darius and Lorraine were up cooking breakfast: eggs, sausage, cheese toast. It was the same thing every morning--mornings began whenever the eldest siblings woke--Kentrell sighed. Excising crust from his eyes and tossing his mess of covers from himself, Kentrell sat on the side of the bed and pushed his feet into the house slippers waiting for him on the rug beside his resting place.

As zombies of morn do, Kentrell lifted himself up and lumbered toward the kitchen. A smell once welcoming and sloughing the monotony of routine consumption, Kentrell (or Tre as his siblings called him) would have sooner found Nirvana if he never had to smell cheese toast and eggs again. Sausage made his stomach churn. Kentrell ate it anyway, he was no cook himself--a deficiency which,as Darrius and Shontay reminded him often, made him goofy. Darrius re-attached he smoke detector once all the hot breakfast had been cooked. Lorraine had disappeared into the bathroom and there was no sign of Terell, Marcus, or Shontay.

Kentrell hated being alone with Darrius.

No sooner than Lorraine went to get dressed for work did Darrius begin his shpiel,

"You found a job yet?" Darrius sipped black coffee while Kentrell toyed with a plate of scrambled eggs, Kentrell's eyes met Darrius' own,

"Still lookin'." a dry enough response from the younger Price boy; Darrius knew it to be incredulous,

"Uh huh. Look Tre, I'ono what you plan on doing, but it gotta be something. Shontay and Terell ass, too, cause I know damn well I'm not about to keep doin' no' double shifts at McDonalds for three lazy niggas."

"Man, ain' no--"

"Nah, nah, nigga. Shut up."

"Man, aight. I'll see what up."

"I'm serious, nigga."

Lorraine came out of the bathroom and prompted an end to the exchange. In her return, Kentrell found safety from Darrius scold; Lorraine and Darrius left the house after other random chatter between themselves. Kentrell watched them leave and then finished his eggs and sausage. He went back to his room and threw on the same red t-shirt he had worn yesterday and exchanged his slippers for decaying red Converse sneakers. From inside his drawer he retrieved his red bandana and stuffed it in the back pocket of the khaki pants he had also worn yesterday. Hygiene, then Kentrell was outside.

Beyond the black iron fence which enclosed the apartment complex were a handful of people, all of whom had some designated article of clothing in homage to the hood. Red belts, red socks, hats, shoes, flags. Of the ten or so young men and women standing outside, there were the two he had wanted to see most: Terell and Shontay, and of the duo it was Terrell who welcomed Kentrell--or KP as he was known in the streets--first,

"Woop. What up, nigga. Where you been?"

"Shit, sleep."

"Sleep?! Nigga, it's 12:30! Been waitin' on yo' ass all day." KP joined with the rest of the group, to which Shontay gave her own greeting,

"Here come this ugly ass nigga!" KP kissed his teeth and indulged her with a one-arm side hug.

"Ya mama, nigga." KP's retorts were never quite tuned for quality,

"Whatever, you ready?" 20 sets of eyes turned to KP, nerves flashed up the boy's spine and settled in the rest of his body. A millisecond too long passed in silence, they could smell the hesitation.

"On Lanes, nigga, you already know I'm ready. Shit, been ready, blood." the answer appeased none, but no one feigned belief better than KP and his friends.

"We gon' see." Shontay and Terrell had already put in work, exactly what that work was was something Terell didn't quite know. A cherry red cadillac pulled up in front of the apartments, inside a muscled, dark skinned black man with a scar beneath his eye and a blunt hanging from his mouth screeched the cadillac to a halt. Shontay let her eyes fall to the vehicle,

"There he go. Aye!" she shouted to the car, "What up Bone?!" Bone only gave a nod,

KP had frozen solid in just that short span of time, it took a nudge from Shontay to rev life into him. With lowered tone, she spoke,

"Go 'head nigga, don't make him call you ova there."

KP's legs carried him. Hands clutched the unlocked door and he stepped in. Instinctively, he reached a hand out to Bone, who merely stared at the hand and then hit the gas.

And in a few seconds it all became real to him.

[User]
1991 Honda Civic. The undisputed king of the road. Sure, the Russians in West Hollywood would usually be seen in a Mercedes-Benz, the Sureños their jacked lowriders, the Mongols MC their chopped Harleys. Even the Italians, still somehow hanging on this city, kept their image of "men of respect" by sticking almost exclusively to Cadillacs. But the Civic had none of the flash of these other cars. It was quiet, it was anonymous, it was nearly invisible. It was a car you didn't see coming until it was already too late. And that, George Choi felt, made it the perfect car for the Korean Mob right now. Maybe in a couple years he'd spend the money on a fancy BMW or Audi. Maybe that new Hyundai Tiburon, send some money back to the old country- that might be a better look.

As they cruised north up Normandie, they hit yet another pothole. Choi grimaced in annoyance, looked down to make sure he still had the Colt Trooper sitting in his lap. The .357 was a heavy gun for a smaller man, but he knew a single bullet would be enough to take someone off their feet, unless they were covered in armor like those freaks in North Hollywood a few months back. He looked at the driver of the Civic, a longtime soldier named Harold Kim, nodded when he saw the Ruger P90 wedged into a cupholder- easy access when it was needed but not sitting in plain sight. Kim knew what he was doing. Choi turned around to look at the man in the backseat, Ho-Seop Jeong. One of the new recruits, only in America for close to two years now, still struggling to learn English. And a former infantryman in the Republic of Korea Army, which was the main reason Choi had felt comfortable putting a Type 56 rifle in his hands. The Chinese copy of the legendary AK-47 was rugged, reliable, and durable, just like Jeong. They were ready for anything.

"I don't know about this, boss," Kim said. His voice betrayed no nervousness but under his sunglasses his eyes darted back and forth. "We're getting into Little Armenia. That's AP's home turf. You know how those guys love drivebys." The conversation flowed freely between English and Korean.

Choi clicked his tongue. "If we want to expand, we need to figure out what can be given and what can be taken away. This is going to be prime territory for that new thing we're working on, the crystals."

"They're not just going to let us into their home," Kim pointed out.

"I seem to remember the other day I came over to your apartment, we went inside and had a few beers. Your wife made kimchi."

"That's different, you're my friend."

"That's right, Kim. You let friends into your home."

Kim shook his head, still keeping a wary eye out as they idled at a stoplight. "We don't have that kind of relationship with the Armenians."

Choi shrugged. "We don't have beef, either. And neither of us like the Bloods. We've always been respectful neighbors, I think it's time we start being friends. They'll get distribution rights in their own territory, we get 20%. We lend each other muscle if need be," he said with a grin to Jeong in the back seat. "Everybody wins."

"Unless the Armenians say no."

"They're not the only game in town. If they're not interested in a partnership, fuck 'em." Choi leaned back. "We'll get Normandie Avenue one way or the other. If they don't like an olive branch maybe next time we come with a bat instead." They stopped at the intersection with Hollywood Boulevard. "We're getting into Thai Town. That's thinking too far ahead. Turn around, Kim, let's keep scouting Little Armenia. We need to know the lay of the land before getting a sitdown with the Armenian leadership."

The Civic pulled a U-turn, and the three men continued south down Normandie, looking for where to begin their chapter in the long history of gangs of Los Angeles.


[System]
Appearance:

Parum is barely five feet tall and with her robes on, she's almost childlike. However hidden by her unflattering robes, Parum is definitely not childlike; she's a fully grown halfling woman, with a full chest and shapely hips. While she doesn't look strong, and she really isn't, Parum's small and light body grants her great agility and speed not often seen in most halflings. She typically wears clothing that won't restrict her movements, and even her signature robe is mostly for hiding her body; it does very little to impede her even during her more acrobatic movements, and she can tear it off with ease if it does get caught on something. She's often seen with a huge backpack that's at least three times her size, but despite that it's actually a bag of holding, albeit a flawed attempt at one. While it weighs about as much as a a backpack that size would weight (About twenty pounds), it can still hold a nearly infinite amount of space within and she won't feel a thing. It's bigger size also allows her to fit bigger things.
Age: 27

Race: Halfling

Class: Rogue

Biography: Parum was once just an orphan left in the streets. As one may imagine, being orphaned in the streets left very little options for the halfling. She knew no family she had; no mother or father, brothers or sisters, uncles or aunts. She resorted to petty thievery, stealing only what she needed to survive. Food, a bit of drink, sometimes coins to buy a bed in the inn during the winter. But surviving by a hair wasn't something Parum enjoyed. She wanted stability in her life, but she only knew one way how.

As Parum grew older, her skills in thievery also grew. She became quite adapt at stealing that she could swipe a sword out of a sheath or coins from a hand. Of course she isn't without failure, but those mistakes only allowed her to hone her agility and speed. Being a little halfling, Parum was also no stranger to being targeted by thugs and miscreants herself. She learned how to fend for herself, even took up a rather exotic weapon to compensate her overall lack of fighting ability. But aside from that, Parum did learn more practical trade skills. Amassing her ill-gotten gains over the years, she eventually was able to buy herself an apprenticeship in a merchant's guild. Much to her surprise, many of her skills growing up were used much more often. While she learned the art of haggling and worked as a locksmith, her deft hands and sharp wit put her into a position where she essentially became a thief for the merchant's guild; stealing back ill-gotten gains from other thieves, companies, or whoever.

Parum spent a good bit of her life with the Merchant's Guild, and she doesn't regret a moment of it. Even now she continues to keep good relations with the guild as she strikes out as her own independent merchant, hoping to gather her wares in the deepest of dungeons for great riches.

Skills: Parum is a fast fighter and quick thinker. While she lacks the pure strength and toughness to brawl most opponents, she's agile and precise to dodge most attacks and hit the right spots. She's very keen with daggers and can stick them into weak points, even throwing them with deadly accuracy. Her fighting style is dual-wielding, typically two daggers. She uses finesse over force, so she needs light weapons.

Parum has keen senses and can often hear, smell, or see others before they can see her, even if they're trying to hide. She can also discern people's motives and practically smell when someone is lying around her. She's very acrobatic and relies on this to dodge danger. Parum can disarm many types of devices and traps, even magical ones, though only with the right set of tools. Lastly, Parum is also good at hiding. Even with her huge bag, you'd be surprised at the places Parum can hide in, even when there's nowhere to hide at. She's the type who can vanish in plain sight without the need of magic.

---

[User]
Vivian

 Vivian picked up the glass with the first serving of wine sitting inside. She swished it around as she listened to Parum's words. Ten thousand gold for a artifact of Nerul most likely. It was a reward that would draw in numerous folk. She took in a mouth full of the wine from her glass and let the taste hit her tongue before swallowing it down. She then looked to Parum. "The job itself could be dangerous, I mean be it if this was any other temple such as one of Pelor or Corellian we would not have to worry about traps or curses, but no... this is a temple of a dark god. Of Nerul to be exact. The Reaper, the god of death and trickery. I expect this temple will be full of not just mundane traps but of magical traps." She answered. She took another drink of the wine. She looked to the pipe that was offered to her from Elleonara and waved her hand. "I'll pass, that is of little interest to me. Although the substance did make it easier for my kin to enslave the lesser minds of the surface to fight our battles for us..." She said holding that last bit for awhile as a smirk formed. "I'm joking,... the races we often tricked were brainless from the start anyways. Orcs, Gnolls, goblinkin,... those types."

 She turned to Parum once again. "As for the pay,... well they had to make it worth the while,.. I suppose. There are plenty of people that would take up a quest like that for that much. If bodies was what they wanted they sure got it." She said. Refering not only to our group but even people who are still arriving to take up the mission. The quest and task was obviously a loud and popular subject. Why wouldn't be... ten thousand gold was at stake. It would make any man a rich person. Even she was thinking of the gold and how it could help herself.

 "I believe it is most certainly worth the trouble,.. I mean that big of a reward would most certainly get me some friends in high places. Enough so that I wouldn't need this necklace anymore." She added. Then she sighed at the recall of Gnolls being sighted at the temple. "Sadly we are not the first ones there though,... The new of Gnolls being there bothers me. If in anyway these Gnolls are connected to the same group that attacked us then.... well I expect to seem a few of my kin there." Something like a artifact of Nerul would get her kins interest and if they can bag a deserter like herself in the process it would make the hunt worth it. The chalice was likely not the only thing down there either. Could be plenty of treasure down there to peak their interests. There was also her sisters visit... was she here also for the chalice? Was she also interested in the reward for it.

 She then figured out that Cassandra was not wearing much for a disguise. She showed her drow features without hiding it at all. Was this town more civil towards drow then most? Or did her sister already form connections. "Oh,... by the way while I was in my room I got paid a little visit from someone.....unexpected." She looked around the tavern to see how many people were within. "I think it wise if I tell you all in detail of the visit later though.... more private and on the road."

Alexander

 Alex looked down and over to the dwarf. She had asked if he was only having just one. He thought about it and shrugged. "As much as I do like mead, I think I may just keep to the one. We got some enemies that I want to be a bit sober to face." He said. If the drow do appear,... from what he heard just one could prove difficult with their skills in the blade and poison. They will be one tough challenge. Something a warrior like himself would find exciting. Even if he died to the blade of one of them... it may just be one worthy. He then looked to Vivian as he over heard her little talk with Parum. The subject was about the temple and their mission. The reward was a bit high.... I mean if they were being sent to destroy a lich or something of that stature then yeah ten thousand would sound reasonable. However,... this chalice did not sound like something worth that much.

 Unless...... unless it was just a lure and this mage was just a agent of Vivian's house. That would explain how the Gnolls knew which group to attack. I mean Vivian was in the wagon. You could not see her for the most of it tell she joined Parum in the front so how would they know?.... unless the mage or someone in town told them what to look for. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. Damn it Parum..... I dont need this trail of thought right now. The chance of there not even being a reward was not something he wanted to think about. Alex looked back at the dwarf. He decided to engage in a conversation to get it of his mind. "My name is Alexander Von Wolfe, I belonged to a family of knights up north. Maybe you heard of it. Anyhow we would ride into battle on dire wolves. It was fun times for awhile. Tell I became the last Wolfe."

[Assistant]
Veridis Quo

As the bard strummed his lute a young woman came and gave him some ale. Veridis recognized her as the innkeeper's daughter, and apparently someone just brought him a drink. Looking back at the group he could see that a pink-haired dwarf had joined the others and in typical dwarven fashion she was already drinking. Not one to waste a good thing Veridis took a drink from the ale, tasting the bitter yet fruity beverage. Having never been a connoisseur of alcohol however, Veridis wasn't sure if this was good or bad. He wasn't puking however, so it was good enough.

Though Veridis thought about speaking to the newcomers, he chose to simply remain in the background to provide ambiance. It might seem strange for a bard not to take the front stage, but a good bard knows his place. Not everyone is the lead, and sometimes you need someone to set the mood. Seeing that the night was growing older and they had new, pleasant company, he decided to play a different tune. Though the establishment was smaller and less refined than the taverns at Sapphire, something about it's small-town, rustic feel gave it a charm that he wouldn't find in the big city. Between sips of ale and listening to the hearthfire crackle, Veridis was tempted to simply close his eyes and turn in for the night. But if the bard was going to do anything for the party tonight, it'd be to provide music and company until he's the last man standing.

[User]
"For this kind of pay, I'm more worried about enemies in high places. If the guild is paying top coin for us to retrieve this treasure, who knows what others would pay to get it out of our hands. Places like Sapphire aren't known for being all peace and harmony. Regular business can be rather cutthroat, but once you throw in magic and influential forces like the guild, there's always more subterfuge at work than meets the eye. And that's not including Vivian's... Friends." Parum has seen conspiracies like this before, and engaged in a few herself. What appears to be a simple job turns out to be a key piece to a larger wheel in motion. That's why Parum cared little about the guild's reward to reap the benefits of the chalice herself: who knows what sort of powers were actually involved in all of this, and the halfling had no interest in being their pawn.

It was a risky game of course. If she makes the wrong turn then she'd end up with a big target on her back. BUt that's why she was here to make friends after all. Vivian mentioned being visited by someone, which did put Parum on edge. She didn't hear anything amiss. No doubt Vivian's guest was a magic user just like her, which made things all the more complicated. Parum was used to dealing with thieves, burglars, and assassins of the mundane sort, but mages threw a wrench into things. Conventional means to stop others wouldn't work on them, and no doubt if Vivian's guest could make a silent entry so could her enemies. "Viv, you're horrible at keeping a low profile. Barely a day out of the city and with us and you've already been found." Sighing, Parum took a puff from her pipe. She needed something to calm her nerves and figure out how to survive tonight without some drow assassin slicing her throat.

"Hmm... It may be in our best interest if we share rooms together. Watch each other's backs, keep watch tonight. We already know someone is after Viv, so I think she's the one we need to worry most about."


[System]
Age: 19 years
Gender: Female
Appearance:
Personality & Description:
Grain is every bit the image of what an ideal knight. Almost out of a fairy tale, or courtly romance. She's quite tall for her age, with a well built body that reflects her extensive training quite well.

Despite not being one to speak freely unless requested to. Grain's voice carries a great deal of resolution. The same can be said of her actions. Even though her quiet demeanor may make it seem like she's shy or unused to social interactions, the truth is quite the contrary. From the way she walks and dresses, to what she reads and her silent, vigilante gaze, everything about her is proper and knightly.

While it's easy to think that someone like her would be a consummate tomboy, the truth couldn't be more further away. That said, she doesn't like it when others pay too much attention to her feminine side either.

"Though, just maybe, will she get flustered when called cute? Well, there's only one way to know..."Brief Backstory:
Grain was born and raised in a spartan environment, with the sole purpose of continuing her family's knighthood tradition and their relationship with the Tower's magi.

It would be easy to assume that this meant an abusive and grueling childhood, but the truth couldn't be more different. In fact, she was raised with attention and care, befitting her social standing. Even if her parents were always the hands-off type, Grain always counted with her servants to do everything she needed so that she could concentrate solely on the obligations required of her as a knight.

However, as a consequence of such intense focus on her life goal, Grain is pretty... disconnected from the outside world. Whenever she goes through the streets of a modern day city like London she can't help but feel amazed at the simplest of things. It's quite amusing to think that someone so well-educated has difficulty using even something as simple as a smartphone.

Anyway, it's of no surprise that when the young heiress of the Ar-Rynesarte family declared that she would find the ones responsible for her family's fall from grace, one of their old time allies like the Blackmore would answer their call for help.

It was the only honorable thing to do.Abilities:
Grain isn't a member of the Tower, or even mage in the proper sense of the word. She's knowledgeable in magecract and magical foundations, but practicing it—while not beyond her abilities—is beyond her interest. That said, she does have an enviably high reserve and quality of mana—befitting her pure, noble blood—which comes in handy for other applications rather than spellcasting.

All of this is possible because of her very rare Sorcery Trait:「 Blood of Heroes 」which only appears sporadically in families of those who are related to a legendary hero of the past. In her case, the legendary Celtic king Fionn mac Cumhaill, also known as Finn MacCool.

First of all, always having such an amount of mana on reserve, makes Grain highly resistant to magic effects in general since she can simply counter pretty anything using her own raw magic energy.

She also the "body of a hero who can challenge fate itself", an ability that goes way beyond what even a mage dedicated to just physical reinforcement would be capable of doing. Which can reach truly inhuman levels of power when combined with her ability to release her magical energy to improve her physical abilities, making strikes harder, jumps longer, etc.

When combined with her family's heirloom arms, it's possible to unleash a blast of pure magical energy that mimics the legends of old, when a lone knight had the power to defeat whole armies on their own as well as other similar feats.

However, the most unique part of her trait is inheriting part of the legendary wisdom Fionn is said to have gained in the tale of the Salmon of Knowledge. By sucking bringing her thumb to her mouth Grain is able to gain limited clairvoyance allowing her to divine the possible best course of action for almost any situation, as well as get a good idea of the answer to pretty much anything you ask of her. Needless to say, this skill is pretty handy for her studies.Skills:
It's safe to say that grain could be a specialist of everything if she truly wanted to overuse her gift of wisdom to solve the problems of life. However, not only would this be inappropriate in her view, but also... she can't help but feel embarrassed while doing it in front of others.

Thus, it's no wonder that she avoids it. Even so, she's very knowledgeable in the classic matters, knightly traditions, and social etiquette. She's an outstanding athlete, amazon, and naturally acquainted to many different forms of combat. That said, she's mostly helpless in matters that don't pertain to her chosen life goal, sometimes to pretty amusing-to-see degrees.Assets:
As far as monetary assets, it's simpler to say that Grain never did, nor ever will, lack anything that she might need or want. Unless some incredible misfortune befalls her family, the fortune they've been amassing for the previous hundreds of years, won't be getting smaller any time soon.

When it comes to other possessions, she has access to a decent selection of both arms and armor. As well as a number of magical tools accumulated over centuries of service, even though most of them have either lost their original powers, or are outright useless in a practical sense. To the point that it's almost appropriate to say that the Blackmore's excel at collecting junk.

As expected, she doesn't have most of those possessions with herself unless she's on official business, in which case she'll almost always be seen with her family's heirloom sword, or spear, and a set of very light armor (basically just gauntlets and greaves). All of which can be summoned or dismissed at-will using transportation magic.

[User]
Lillia Avemaria

Today had gotten off to a poor start: her intent had been to get to the meeting point before the others to at least talk with Arinne more normally... and object to the completely unnecessary invocation of the contract. Really, did she think so little of their friendship that it was necessary? All she had to do was but ask, and the other prodigy would have been at her surface with as many of the maids as were currently free to be borrowed from their duties.

But she had mistakenly thought that they would be meeting in Arinne's home, not thinking to double check the meeting point, and it was only upon her arrival there that Maria had been able to get her attention long enough to alter their course! Now instead of being early, she was going to arrive late... what a poor first impression for someone of her lineage to set...

The number of strangers in the room as Lillia burst in, trailed by a tall and elegant maid that--both through his powers and experience--Paul would know harboured a truly shocking number of sharp implements.

"I-I'm terribly sorry for my lateness," she said, somewhat out of breath, "Lillia Avemaria, reporting." She even gave a little curtsy at that, before the white-haired girl attempted to not attract any more attention: sidling up to beside Saturday and picking a biscuit herself, with Maria positioning herself by the door.

At least Saturday was as adorable as ever...

[Assistant]
The woman in the black coat smiled a little when Arinne confirmed her hypothesis, but otherwise kept quiet as the others each spoke their piece. Her eyes drifted slowly towards Paul, watching him as carefully as he watched everyone else.

As the conversation wore on, however, with late arrivals gradually showing up to interrupt, her patience seemed to wear thin. She closed her book, setting it down by her side, and leaned forwards, clearing her throat. "Is this everyone? Surely we're not missing any more, are we?" Her sharp gaze swept across the room, daring anyone to disagree. "Good. Then as the Lady commanded, let me share with you what I know so far."

"Kissinger here was kind enough to share with us the basics, but allow me to add a little context, here. Organ theft is hardly an uncommon practice— both magi and mundane humans have built up extensive black markets for that kind of goods. For the most part, though, they're professionals, careful to pick their targets and dispose of them properly." She spread her arms. "If a homeless man living on the streets, or some child from a developing country disappears one day, nobody notices, nobody cares. That's how they operate."

"But this case is different. These young women weren't easy targets, they were people with friends, people with families. They didn't disappear, they were found after being killed. Whoever this killer is, they're doing a poor job of hiding their tracks. That means they're new, inexperienced, not a professional criminal but, as Mr. Kissinger put it, a rogue."

She held up one hand, two fingers and a thumb splayed out. "Thus, I predict one of three possible motives. One, they're psychotic, a madman or madwoman doing this for fun and sport. Much like the original Jack the Ripper." One finger curled inwards, leaving two digits raised. "Two, they're a would-be criminal, wanting to get into the organ-trafficking business but lacking the experience and connections to do so through the proper channels. A small-timer, pushed to despicable acts by their own foolish greed." Her thumb curled, leaving only her index finger pointing upwards. "Three... they're desperate. A person who needs organs to save themselves or a loved one, but lacks the financial means to acquire them on the black market. And so, they go after any matching targets they can find, heedless of the trail they're leaving behind them."

Her last finger curled, leaving only a fist, which she gently lowered to her lap. "The question that sticks out to me, though, is why the Lady Ar-Rynesarte should care." Her eyes fixed on those of the young family head. "This is hardly the first serial killer to haunt the streets of London. In time, they will be caught by the proper authorities. And, while awful, their activities are not a threat to the upper echelons of the Tower." Her head tilted to one side, one eyebrow arching upwards. "Is it a sudden bout of empathy that afflicts you, perchance? Or has something led you to believe that this case may be of more... personal interest?"

[User]
Upon noting that so many people were sampling the biscuits that she had ordered specifically for herself and Saturday, Arinne narrowed her eyes in irritation. At least glancing towards Saturday made her somewhat less annoyed.

"Next time I'll order a batch laced with Bitrex and dead spiders," she commented, loud enough to be heard. Not simply due to annoyance, but also because the idea of her servants worriedly checking any food well before eating it was incredibly amusing to her. There was also pair of late arrivals, the lady knight Grain Blackmore and someone she knew from her childhood, Lillia Avemaria. Naturally, the both of them would need some further clarification on just what was occurring.

"In any case, for the tardy ones," she added, leaning back in her seat, "We've been discussing that murderer. Jack the Ripper of 2019. As as been discussed, the killer has used some form of magic in order to displace the victims' organs from inside their bodies, as Miss Selas stated. As for why I'm so interested, well..."

She shrugged.

What was left unsaid was one of the most clear reasons for Arinne's personal interest in this killer: Her parents had been killed with magic that attacked the interior of their bodies while leaving the exterior unscathed.

"As Mister Kissinger said, medical knowledge and magical knowledge both would be required for this method of killing, especially to do it so swiftly and thoroughly that there is little opportunity for a struggle," continued the small blonde, "With consideration to displacement sorcery combined with medical knowledge, well... I rather think it's unlikely this is simply any random mage, even if they are new to crime and desperate."

She cocked her head to one side, with a smile.

"Such knowledge combined with potent magic of such a narrow field... I wonder where ever such a mage could spend their time, and what profession they could hold?"

She didn't directly state it, but Arinne's suspicions weren't exactly subtle.

She suspected a member of the Tower's faculty. No-one specific as of yet...

"But there's no way to find out more information without seeing the crime scene for ourselves."

One hand returned to Saturday's head, stroking her hair lightly as she did.

"Fufu, you're just devouring those biscuits... are you a kitten, or a hamster? Just how many of those have you eaten, now?" she asked, suddenly breaking from her more serious discussion, "Beware, Saturday, of gaining weight. What would I do with you if you became squishy? Use you as a cushion?"

Of course, she didn't expect Saturday was at risk of such a thing, but the amusement of seeing her reaction to having such things said about her in front of so many people was enough motivation.

"But matters of Saturday's cuteness aside, we're going to be visiting the crime scenes," stated Arinne, her attention returning to the room at large. "Myself, Saturday, Lillia, and Mister St. John visit the site of the first murder, Miss Selas, Mister Kissinger, and Lady Blackmore will visit the second, and Miss Dalraan, Mister Murakami, and Mister Vadris will visit the site of the third."

Arinne steepled her fingers once more, leaning forward.

"That's the best way to gather more information, you see."

@Raineh Daze@Aviaire@KoL@Rin@Chi@Bartimaeus@Rabidporcupine@Anza

[Assistant]
Grain shuddered inwardly as she heard Arinne's threat, or because of the other girl's quirkiness in general. It seemed that the others stoked her wrath for some reason. It was only expected when most of them didn't look like they were used to environments that required proper education and etiquette.

The arrival of none other than the daughter of the Avemaria household, caught Grain's attention. In fact, her eyes followed the Servant that came after Lilia with intensity for some reason.

Nevertheless, Grain's focus came back to the matters at hand once Arinne explained the reason why she summoned them here. "As you wish, Lady Ar-Rynesarte. It'll be my honor to escort your allies," she replied to Arinne's command in a soft, resolute voice.


[System]
Merchant

---

Level 3

-------STATISTICS-------

-------MASTERIES-------

| VIT -- 22 | 75% | BLADES -- E
| MGT -- 6 | 50% | POLEARMS -- D
| SKI -- 8 | 55% | AXES/BLUNT -- E
| SPD -- 9 | 55% | BOWS/RANGED -- C
| SRT -- 2 | 20% | THEURGY -- N/A
| MND -- 0 | 5% | MYSTICISM -- N/A
| LUK -- 5 | 40% |
Secondary Statistics

WGT -- ?
ACC -- ??
AVO -- ??
RES -- ??
CRT -- ??

---

Traits:

- MOUNTED: This unit rides their favored mount, gaining +2 MVT, while being subject to mounted weapon restrictions as well as being disadvantaged by certain weapons and skills. Similarly, a mounted unit may spend whatever MVT remains to reposition directly after attacking. A mounted unit may dismount at anytime. While mounted, a character may use the 'rescue' command to carry another unit to safety.
- CELERITY: Movement +2.

---

* Bronze Short Spear

	+ MIGHT | 3
	+ ACCURACY | 80
	+ WEIGHT | 3
	+ CONDITION | 24/30
	+ RANGE | 1
	+ SPECIAL | NA
	+ COST | 190

* Bronze Short Bow

	+ MIGHT | 2
	+ ACCURACY | 80
	+ WEIGHT | 2
	+ CONDITION | 18/30
	+ RANGE | 2
	+ SPECIAL | +5% Critical Rate, Cannot be used with shields
	+ COST | 275

* Bronze Sling

	+ MIGHT | 1
	+ ACCURACY | 85
	+ WEIGHT | 0
	+ CONDITION | 10/10
	+ RANGE | 2
	+ SPECIAL | NA
	+ COST | 60

* Bronze Crossbow

	+ MIGHT | 5
	+ ACCURACY | 90
	+ WEIGHT | 7
	+ CONDITION | 30/30
	+ RANGE | 2
	+ SPECIAL | NA
	+ COST | 470

Possessions: Vulnerary (1/3), 190 AU

Personality/Appearance
Zarif is a man of 22 years and 7 moons, standing just under 6 feet tall, and never seen far from his Camel, Salador. With skin paler than most and strange clothing, Zarif is one who attracts a passing interest in some, and a scornful look from others. Not accustomed to the lands of Akkad or their strange gods, Zarif tends to appear bit naive about its ways and customs, though this is often a ploy used to lower people's guards to his cunning. Still a salesman at heart, Zarif always does his best to strike a good deal.

Backstory
Born in the distant lands beyond the endless desert to the west, Zarif was raised to be a Merchant like his father, and took to it quickly. When he was old enough, his father bought him his own Camel, and Zarif quickly bonded with the animal, whom he named Salador, and has been inseparable ever since.

Having heard stories of a mythical "Golden Land" beyond the desert, with cities paved with gold, armies so large that drank rivers dry, and a king who was both a god and a giant, Zarif joined a merchant caravan to cross the seemingly endless desert. After many moons, with the lands they had been traveling to, with the destination almost within grasp, the caravan was set upon by raiders. Nearly dead and robbed blind, a mercenary company crossed paths with the bloody scene, and managed to save Zarif and Salador. Trapped in this strange land, and with no way to return home, Zarif joined the company, and has been with them for 3 years.

[User]
Iddin

The Iddin routine is stopped for a moment by a brutish stab. The priest pauses for a moment, shoves away the spear, and hisses at the Yeek. This disgusting creature dares attack him? And their repugnant gospel attacked his ears! These heretics!

Iddin clutches the wound and stumbles a short while away. He picks up his ceremony with renewed vigor, the blood slowly seeping out being flung around by his vigorous dance. He points his staff at the Yeeks that came from behind.

Iddin: "Those beasts are an affront to Zuzu's grace! Strike them down, and their misplaced faith in an inferior deity alongside!"

Iddin moves two tiles to 8-30, passively triggering Inspiration.

+10 Hit/Avoid to:
* Zarif
* Lyun
* Siris
* Ashur

[Assistant]
Seeing the massive creature walking down the hall with its allies, Siris hesitated for a moment, but it was only for a moment.

Siris: Finally a real opponent, your fight is with me!

He shouted this at the monster while pointing his sword at it, although he doubted it could understand him a pointed sword is usually easily understood.

Siris began to charge as the other warrior yeeks attacked his allies, however he could not afford to distract himself and ran forward without further delay.

As he ran he felt a weird sensation as if his fine muscle control felt weaker but quickly after it strengthened back to his usual norm, although this was barely registering in Siris's head.

The small part of his brain still thinking of his allies and bodily sensations shut down when he was finally in front of the massive yeek.

It roared at the headstrong warrior and lifted its mighty axe to strike Siris down but the tightness of the hall for the beast worked against it as it took extra time to swing its massive axe correctly. Siris took this extra time to break into a sprint, as the red yeek swung the young warrior slid below the massive axe and then immediately stabbed the monster in the stomach.

With a yell Siris used all his strength and pushed his sword to the right, further cutting the beast's gut until it finally cut all the way out through its side.

The red yeek began to bend over and with a small chuckle Siris began to turn towards the group when he saw the massive axe began to quickly move toward him. He put his shield in front of himself to stop it but the swing was too powerful causing Siris to fly back and slam into the wall.

Barely landing on his feet Siris stumbled in pain towards the center of the hall to keep his balance as blood dripped from his head, his bones and organs not severely damaged thanks to the armor.

The beast was still alive and it was pissed.

Siris: shit..

Siris moves 3 tile to 10-27 and attacks the red yeek dealing 13 damage. The red yeek counters Siris and deals him 7 damage

[User]
As soon as Zarif finished off the crumbling wall, the chaos behind it was revealed. More of those cursed blue demons has surprised the other group. As soon as the wall fell, the priest and Siris charged past the merchant and the brute, scrambling over the rubble of the wall. Near as soon as the Priest stopped, he was set upon from another hall. Blast! They have us surrounded.

The merchant thought to yell to Siris to help Idden, but the overly excited mercenary charged off down the far hall into the darkness, shouting. The priest, clutching his side, hobbled away, and despite his wound, cried out resolutely. Zarif was no follower of this man's strange god, but seeing him standing brave despite his near-death inspired the foreigner all the same. Without his companion with him, he latched onto whatever he could to give him courage, it would seem.

Zarif: Etor! On me! Phalanx formation on the hall! Swap spears!

The once-merchant shouted, stuffing as much false bravado and valor into his words as he could, and charged, still gripping his longspear. He reached the hall, stepping in the Priest's own blood, and, tragically, slipped, his pear going wide and to the side of the robed Yeek down the hall. This heavy spear would leave him a sitting duck against these stronger looking yeeks... he hoped Etor had heard his cry. He had but seconds before it was too late

Zarif moves to 10-30 and attacks the Yeek Ensi with his longspear, and misses gaining 1 xp. There is no counter attack


[System]
Biographical Information
Nickname(s): Jen, Jin, Jenni.
Date of Birth: February 9, 1973 Aquarius
Skills/Abilities: Reptile & Sword-Handling Expert; Master of Kendo, Iaido, Kenjutsu, Kung-Fu, Chi-Gong & Tessenjutsu; Stealth, Self-Hibernation, Decelerated Aging, Scale Generation, Aiming Proficiency & Enhanced Durability/Lungs/Smell.
Weapon(s) of Choice: Single Katana and Tessen.
Occupation(s): Zoo Keeper (formerly); Vigilante.

Physical Description
Specie(s): Human (formerly); Reptilian-Hybrid.
Gender: Female.
Height: 5' 7".
Hair Color: Dark Brown-Black.
Eye Color: Brown.

Overview (Brief Summary): Originated from Beijing, Jennifer was adopted and raised in the traditions of a Japanese family in America. Spending most of her life traveling, whilst having to develop a warm heart for animals, she eventually settled down in New York, where she became a keeper and specialist of the Reptile House at the Central Park Zoo...before one night changed her life forever. At closing time, she came into contact with a mysterious substance that somehow fused her DNA with one of the lizards at the zoo.

Personality: Strong-Willed, Brave/Courageous, Wise, Astute, Sisterly, Patient, Calm, Mature, Independent, Inspiring, Caring/Selfless, Intelligent, Resourceful, Creative, Protective, Confident, Fair/Honorable, Tenacious, Modest, Thoughtful, Reliable.

Out-Of-Universe Information
Face Claim: Zhang Ziyi

[User]
Charlie chuckled as he teased her back, just glad he was awake and alright if a little weak. She couldn't ignore the strange feeling growing inside her, making her feel warm, bubbly, happy. She only felt it around Raph. Was it because of their strange connection to each other? Possibly.

As the days passed, the bonds between everyone seemed to grow, even the discord between April and Casey seemed to somewhat disappear but there were a few spats. Especially when he called her Toots one day which soon ended up with April leaving in a huff after telling him what she thought about him. But there was an unspoken emptiness everyone felt. Splinter was still missing.

However, the brothers tried keeping their spirits up by perfecting their skills and helping Charlie with hers. Raphael seemed to be more interested in teaching her, giving her lessons whenever Jennifer couldn't or just because. There was no rhyme or reason why, but Charlie was thankful nonetheless. She was now moving onto more intermidenent moves. While nowhere near the brothers or Jen, she could at least put up a good fight.

She was currently out with Raph training again when she managed to flip him over her shoulder. She smiled widely at the downed turtle. "I did it!" She exclaimed.

[Assistant]
"Yeah, yeah, 'Lee. Take five", the turtle groaned, as he managed to get on one knee. Taking a moment to crack his neck, and rolling his shoulder, Raphael sat down in the grass.

Even though Charlie was nowhere near as muscular as him, it was all thanks to her newfound workout routine with Jennifer that she was able to gain some upper body strength. As humble as Jennifer was, her sister was making an improvement, beneficial to Charlie's ever-growing athleticism. These routines took hours, from an early morning, all the way to an early evening, along with a few breaks in between. Although it seemed easy, but it was a rather rough journey, but the girls were able to pull it off together, along with a bit of help.

Weapons were a whole 'nother matter. While Charlie was prepared for hand-to-hand situations, learning how to defend yourself from a certain weapons were something that didn't quite fit in with the styles that they were currently teaching her...at least, not yet. As a result, Raphael didn't, at all, use his sais in any of his sessions with her. Learning how to defend yourself from such a weapon wasn't easy to come by, it was just as hard as wielding them; anything in the Kobudo category wasn't for beginners, unlike other martial art styles.

Charlie was a fast-learner. He and the others figured that out, a long time ago. While not exactly experienced, she clearly had great tenacity, as she wanted to take in as much as she could from her sister and the brothers. So far, she proved to be a very capable student. These thoughts circled in the red turtle's mind, putting them to high regard.

[User]
Charlie sighed softly as she sat beside him, glancing up at the sky and watching the clouds pass by. It was so peaceful. Calming. She wondered if he felt it too, even with his temper. Surprisingly it hadn't shown up as much, probably since he and Leo made up. Or maybe it was because she calmed him. He always seemed to change around her.

She looked over at him, contemplating her words before speaking. "Raph? Do...Do you ever think about going back? Ya know, to the city? Find out where Splinter is?" She asked, hoping she wouldn't anger him or cause a silent treatment from him.

[Assistant]
Raphael took the next few seconds of rolling his shoulder from his workout hours from this morning, as well as his training workout with Charlie. The girl was making great progress for the past week and, to the best of their ability, her mentors made sure that they made it easy for her to adapt in such situations. In the real world, nothing about it, is simple. They knew that they can't stay on the farm for long, especially since they should be out looking for Splinter and, hopefully, find him alive.

They had to leave soon, so, about two days ago, they took their sessions up to an eleven, simply by putting Charlie in situations that would act as practice test runs, so they could see how much knowledge she had managed to gain from them. Sometimes, there would be a surprise strike, even if they seemed to be minding their own business. They weren't harsh, but the strikes were light enough to ensure that they don't accidentally knock her unconscious, or outright hurt her.

Even if they weren't successful, Jen reminded her, from time-to-time, that such maneuvers will come unexpected, and that she had to be on alert. Well, maybe not too alert. Being prepared was necessary, at this very time.

He had to admit that the current feeling was very peaceful, especially since he and his brothers were drastically missing the presence of a certain father-figure. Somehow, for the past few days, Raphael found nature to be quite calming. For having to live in a city, he hasn't really stepped forth in its very boundaries. But, for someone as hotheaded and impulsive, it has really given him some sense of serenity. Lightly running his hand in the grass, he picked at a strand, either finding a way to distract himself, while being alone with 'Lee.

Ever since Raph developed that strange feeling for the past two weeks, it initially confused him, but then, there was lingering fondness that he had never felt before. She was always so nice, and so caring, always asking if he was okay, while recovering from his coma. He may not have realized it, but he was staring at her. What snapped him out of it, was when 'Lee turned to look at him. Blinking at her, the rebel looked away quickly.

Surprisingly, when she asked him that question, instead of staying quiet, he answered her, after taking a deep breath, and giving himself a moment of thought. "I always have. If they have Splinter, I would want to go back. Aside from having brothers, he is home. I'd feel a lot better if we found him...alive", he said, a bit of sadness lingering in his voice on that last word. Raphael was putting hope on the fact that his father was alive; that he was stronger than even them. He looked at the ground, holding in that emotion. "You promised, didn't you, 'Lee? That you would help us?", he asked.

[User]
Charlie listened to him, understanding wanting to go back. It wasn't just their home but Splinter they were missing greatly. No one could blame them for that. Charlie herself missed her own father especially after just leaving him a few days after the mutation. She just wished she could have explained to him.

She was brought out of her thoughts upon hearing him question about her promise. "Of course I did. I never go back on a promise." She replied before gently placing a hand on top of his. "I can't explain it, but I feel like he's still alive. He's out there, probably with the Foot. All we have to do is get one of those goons to tell us where he's located."

She gave him a little smile. "The last thing we all need to lose is hope. Without it, what else is going to bring us back to the city?"

[Assistant]
Raph's thoughts were flying about, like leaves in the wind, just circling around. Could he truly be alive? How could they be certain that their father even survived? He shouldn't be thinking of such things, especially since they have gotten so close into believing that Splinter was out there, waiting for them. The longer they sit here, the longer he could continue to suffer. Alone. Closing his eyes, he had to hold onto the hope that his mentor was a trained martial artist, in the way of the ninja. He's alive...he had to be alive.

The turtle's troublesome thoughts immediately dissipated, the moment he felt her hand make physical contact with his own. Encounters like this were new, and it gave Raphael some sort of reluctance to lean into it. He didn't know what to do, although his instincts told him that this was Charlie's way of showing him that she was sticking to her oath. However, there was a hunch when he looked down at their hands. Carefully, and slowly, he turned his three-fingered appendage over, so her hand would be sitting on his palm. It was awkward, shortly before he felt his heart strangely skip a beat, after just performing this one move. What is this? What is going on here? Could he...like her?

Listening to her, Raphael almost pulled his hand away, but allowed it to remain there, intertwined, once he felt the calmness and comfort resonating from her touch. It was the same sensation that washed over him, when they were on that rooftop. Charlie was adding another layer to that peacefulness, that the nature around them brought. "'Lee, I...thanks", it was the same response he gave her back at the city, but..."Aside from April and Jen, thanks for looking out for us. Me, especially", he added, taking the risk to glance at her.

Then, there was a shout behind them, back in the house, ruining the heartfelt moment. "Hey! Splinter's alive! He's alive!", Leo's voice was full of happiness and alarm. Jen was running towards her sister and the rebellious turtle, who seemed to be growing closer to Charlie, making the Asian teen internally smile. "Okay, before you say anything, something happened. During our meditation session, we had a vision...more like, Leo had a vision. He's certain that he saw Splinter; weak but alive, locked up, somewhere in the city. This evening, he wants all of us to meet", she notified, having to tell them that there was reason behind this.

---

If what Leo said, was true, then they could know about Splinter's whereabouts together, and that was happening tonight. By the time the sun went down, and after April and Casey went to bed, the six teens gathered around a fire, somewhere in the forest. Leo and Raph took up one side; Don and Mikey taking another, and the girls took up the third.

"Leo, if you dragged us out here for nothing...", Raph said, having to somewhat skepticism, but at least held onto hope that what his brother saw, was real. "Don't worry, guys. I came prepared", Mikey said, offering marshmallows to anyone who might want one. Jennifer chuckled, and raised her hand, willingly accepting one, before taking another to give to Charlie. The Asian girl's acceptance seemed to bring color to the youngest's turtle's face, which didn't go unnoticed by the female teen, in question. "Put those away", the seriousness was back, and the youngest reluctantly followed through with his order.

"Everyone, close your eyes, and concentrate. Concentrate hard", and then, Leo put himself in a meditative state, with his brothers following suite. Jen wondered, if this was a particular technique used among the ninja. By the look of it, there was nothing 'typical' about it. Holding her sister's hand, the seventeen year-old too closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. It was a strange feeling, combined with calmness, peace, and nearly trance-like, and the next thing she knew, the face of their mentor appeared in her mind.

"I am proud of you all. My sons, tonight, you have learned the final, and greatest truth of the ninja. The allies of whom you endorse with that of your strength, completes the ultimate mastery of not only the body, but of the mind. Together, there is nothing you cannot accomplish. Tread carefully, and share your energy with those you've brought in, with trust, as a bond is your sword, and your shield. Help each other; draw upon one another, and always remember the true force that binds you; the same as that which brought me here tonight that which I gladly return with my final words. I love you all, my children".

...and he was gone. Opening her eyes with a gasp, Jen felt the breath leave her chest, by the time she came to. It left nothing, but sweeping emotion, touching their hearts in the most unexpected way. Splinter accepted the newcomers; entrusted them to aid his disciples, in the battles that come. Mikey was shedding tears from the experience, and Jen stood up to place a hand on his shoulder, with the youngest returning the gesture by placing his hand on top of her own, accepting her comfort. Everyone was affected by this, and the words of the master gave way to a wave of determination.


[System]
Runan Isles Savior Corps

---

Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps.

Character Info

Name – Besca Darroh
Age – 35
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered.

She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own.

Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was.

Character Info

Name – Dahlia St. Senn
Age – 18
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help.

She had no idea.

Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels.

Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken.

Character Info

Name – Hadrian Ghaust
Age – 38
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots.

However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind.

Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him.

Character Info

Name – Safie Calhan
Age – 22
Affiliation – R.I.S.C.

R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots.

While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do.

Character Info

Name – Lucis Abroix
Age – 25
Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C.

Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage.

As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix.

Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.

[User]
As the minutes counted down, the crew shuffled around with purpose. Someone produced a pair of small microphones over, unobtrusively clipping them to both Quinn and Mona's collars. Napkins and cutlery were brought out to the table next, along with a pitcher of water, and glass of wine, which Mona immediately sipped from. A thirty-second countdown started, and with only fifteen seconds left the food was served piping hot. From behind the counter, chef Akihiro gave Quinn an enthusiastic thumbs up.

Besca made her way around the set, to Mona's back, where she'd be in full sight of Quinn. She waved, smiled. Her look said: "You got this." But like Quinn, she was undeniably still nervous. Mona was about as good a draw as they could have gotten for the first interview, but a million things could still go wrong. They had just this morning, and while Besca had tried to be as comforting and supportive as possible, in the back of her mind she knew it was ridiculous to expect Quinn to have a complete hold of herself after a nap and a few sincere words.

A beep sounded, and red lights blinked to life on the cameras. A brief musical cue played as Mona waved to the centermost camera, and then there was relative silence.

"Good evening, Runa, and welcome to dinner!" Mona said. Her voice seemed much bolder now, more projected, almost like a stage actress. "Tonight's show is a bit shorter, but it's very special. That's right. I'm sure some of you watching right now are asking yourselves: who is this beautiful young lady? and to those first-time viewers—hello, I'm flattered." She giggled to herself, as if in-time to the laughter of some unseen audience. "But no, no, really! A lot of you probably have no idea who this is joining me tonight, and I don't blame you! But we're very honored to have her here tonight, and—you know what, I'm gonna let her do the honors."

Mona smiled to her, gesturing to the center camera. "Honey, why don't you go ahead and introduce yourself? Tell'em why I'm so excited to have you here tonight!"

[Assistant]
Deep breaths. Deep breaths. More than three this time; just 'however many she could fit before the clock ticked down.' Deep breaths. Bury what was left of the panic so deep down it couldn't find her. Quinn was glad Besca was there. Mona was nice, she really was, but this place was still so foreign to her. Besca was like a grounding wire, keeping her from spinning out of control.

She really wanted to start eating. Desperately. Chef Akihiro had come all the way down her to make this for her, and wow if it didn't look and smell just as good as always. But she restrained herself; it seemed like eating before the show started wouldn't be a good idea. And she really, really didn't want Mona to be angry with her.

As the beep of the camera sounded, Quinn jerked slightly, taken aback. Oh wow. It was starting. She was...she was on TV! Some of that anxiety leaked out of her, and it was replaced with a kind of nervous energy. She smiled a lopsided smile as she looked at the big center camera that Mona had gestured to. She'd never talked in front of a camera before. So she took one more deep breath, reminded herself that Besca was right there cheering her on, and waved like Mona had, trying as hard as she possibly could to draw out that cheer that she'd lost.

She could already feel that nervous energy and anxiety balling up in her stomach like a chunk of lead, but she kept the enthusiasm on as best she could. So many people were watching, and Deelie was definitely watching, and Doctor Follen was probably watching too. So, pulling up everything she had, she let her voice go.

"Hey, I'm Quinnlash Loughvein, buuuut you can just call me Quinn! I'm the brand new pilot for RISC, and I'm super excited to be here!"

She was almost surprised at how...happy she sounded, and how natural it all seemed to feel, despite being so alien an experience.

Was this what she'd been like before?

[User]
Mona grinned, clapping excitedly. Behind her, Besca was almost slack-jawed at how bright and giddy Quinn sounded—how enthusiastic, how normal. She'd heard her happy in the lulls between personal apocalypses, but this was so much…different. She hardly recognized her voice.

"That's right, folks!" Mona said. "Quinnlash Loughvein is here with us tonight, and I could not be happier, let me tell you. But first things first—the entre to our entre. We had another guest join us earlier, a chef from the Aerie Station, mister Akihiro—am I saying that right? Akihiro? Well he came down and whipped up this salmon for us tonight and, folks, if I could just…"

She brought the plate up to her face and took an exaggerated whiff. "Oh, my gawsh. I don't know a whole lot about Tohoken cuisine, but if this doesn't just smell like heaven, then nothing does. Quinn, honey, I know you're the star here tonight but I am almost as excited to dig into this as I am to talk to you, and it's your favorite dish so I can only imagine how you're feeling. So why don't we kick things off here with a few bites, hm?"

Mona twirled her fork between her fingers and speared a small chunk of fish up. She popped it into her mouth, and her other hand came up over her lips while she chewed.

"Good god," she mumbled, swallowing and turning briefly around to Besca. "He cooks up there for you all? Are you hiring? Oh, I don't think I ever need to ask another Runan why they want to be a pilot again."

She took a few more bites, and whatever idea Quinn might have had that the questions were coming soon and rapidly would quickly melt away. Mona hadn't been lying, she seemed just as interested in the dinner than she was with her.

Eventually she did manage a question, unceremoniously covering her mouth to speak while she chewed. "So, Quinn, I gotta know—what do you do with that beautiful braid while you're all set up in the cockpit? You know, when you're running and jumping and blasting and all that, is it in there flapping around? Does it, like, smack you at all? I've heard it's hard to snap a pilot out of the zone, but that thing looks hefty. I mean, it's so cramped in there, isn't it? And I wake up if I turn the wrong way at night. I couldn't imagine having a flail come at me in the dark."