[System]
Age: 22

Personality: Haru is a soft-spoken and introverted individual. She dares not to step out what is expected out of her, even when she is given freedom to choose what she would like to do. This persists into her beginning years into adulthood, even as she began living on her own. With very little knowledge to work off of, she constantly berates herself from making the littlest of mistakes and/or not doing enough work. These features make her a completely incompetent mage in practice, and this only makes her work towards the impossible when she herself does not have the proper fundamentals to even pursue this goal. Thus, she has a terrible bad habit of setting herself up for failure, simply by aiming for these goals under others' unrealistic conditions.

Abilities: Despite her background and overall nature, Haru possesses the Sekiguchi family's Magic Crest on her back as well as mediocre Magic Circuits. Going from her aunt's guidance on a "good luck charm," Haru knows a basic healing spell under the guise of a good luck mantra, which she secretly uses when working as a nurse. Regardless if she does so or not, Haru is periodically plagued by migraines. Everything else that's considered the bare basics of performing magecraft, Haru does not know at all. Her elemental affinity happens to be water.

History: Born as Haruka Sekiguchi, she experienced an extremely short childhood that was neither mundane nor Magus-related. As the only child of the wilting mage family, Haruka was forced to have the family's Magic Crest transplanted into her fully in one sitting due to her father's declining health with no improvement in sight. While there could be time to transplant the Magic Crest in increments, Haruka's mother feared that their bloodline would die out otherwise. This decision resulted with Haruka falling ill almost immediately upon receiving the Magic Crest. A successful inheritance with a dire cost, and only at the age of 5. Even with stricken by severe migraines which weakened her to the point of almost being bedridden, her mother would constantly hammer in magecraft teachings with no consideration to the child heir who couldn't keep up and remember it all. These events continued up until her father's natural death.

Months after her father's death, 9-year-old Haruka found herself under a new household's roof which belonged to her aunt. Fearing that she was missing her mother's lectures, Haruka asks about why she was here. Her aunt only answers that it is only better that she lived with her. From there, her aunt would treat her just like any other normal child, trying to uplift the child's spirits after magecraft took away what was Haruka's early childhood innocence. Despite Haruka's improved quality of life, she continues to ask when she can go back home, yet her aunt couldn't bring herself to tell the truth until she was older.

Six years later, her aunt would find Haruka nursing a stray cat in their neighborhood back to health. The young teen stroking the feline animal's back in a soothing manner while humming a basic tune appeared to actually remedy the evident bruises on said animal. Her aunt would quickly usher them both inside. First she praises Haruka for taking care of a hurt cat, but then scolds her for being careless with her own abilities. Met with Haruka's confusion, her aunt would finally tell the truth about why she started living with her. Her aunt would recount on how magecraft caused her to be estranged from her family, yet her brother, Haruka's father, kept in touch with her in secret despite the heavy responsibilities put onto him. When it came to him being on his death bed, he told her aunt to take Haruka away to relieve her of the same fate. Recounting this story to the 15-year-old Haruka, her aunt further explains that it's for the best that she stays with her instead of her mother. While reluctant, she figured that it would be fine, considering her below average to no experience with magecraft. Going as far as saying that she didn't even know what magecraft was, those teachings long forgotten after being in her aunt's care.

So by her aunt's suggestion, she took on the name of Haru Imamura, and only used her only spell, the basic healing spell, when she was sure that no one would catch wind of it. There, she took up the life of a social loner, leading up to present day to which she moves out of her aunt's house to live on her own in a rural village. With her studies in the medical field and with that "healing charm," she was able to become a nurse at a neighboring town's hospital. Even on her own, Haru finds herself still feeling unfulfilled and not achieving enough. She thought to herself, if she had access to this healing charm, how come she can't just wish to be a more useful person?

Little did she know that her silent and uncertain prayers were indirectly answered, and that she happened to move into a specific place during a specific time...

Other: Literally has no idea what she's getting dragged into.

[User]
Oda Nobunaga

"As much as I could hide myself in spiritual form, it would mean not being able to see," the shorter girl replied, already hitting upon the obvious limitation of this. An Assassin might be able to sneak around and find out what was going on without being detected but most Servants, even archers, wouldn't have the level of stealth required to avoid another Servant. "If we run into difficulty this early in the war, most Servants would want to hold back for fear of revealing their identity too early and setting themselves up for defeat."

That she wanted to meet the other Servants was an added bonus. Nobunaga might be an excellent opponent to the older Servants, but if some modern swordmaster were to come along then they would be in considerably more trouble--if she could get an ally able to keep pace with more modern threats, then that would reduce the number of possible avenues of defeat considerably.

And she wasn't going to be blind to any betrayal this time.

[Assistant]
Costante and Karizma
Upon reaching the upper floor, Costante closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then got to work.

The first thing he did was crack open a window, tweaking the Bounded Fields around the house to bend the outgoing light and conceal this change. With that done, he loosed five small, translucent crystalline familiars, before wheeling over a heavy telescope and pointing it outward through the opening, its objective lens aimed up at the sky.

For the next few minutes, he made minor adjustments, tweaking angle and focus while his familiars moved towards their destinations. Rather than scouting through the streets as one might expect, they went upwards, ascending high above the town and well out of reach. Only the most skilled of archers would be able to shoot them down from such a height, and that man was already on Costante's side.

"Begin refraction," he muttered, once they were all in place. At his command, each familiar unfolded into a new configuration, losing nearly all their mobility but gaining new reflective and refractive properties, bouncing light between one another until it converged on the central unit, which gathered and then reflected a composite image down into the lenses of the powerful telescope Costante had aimed out the window. With this, he had a bird's-eye view of the entire town, and by tweaking the positions and configurations of his familiars he could adjust the final image as he pleased, quickly zooming in on any points of interest. With this, nothing can escape my gaze. If anyone comes close to Sister…

It took him only a few seconds to find Karizma, since he knew her point of origin and could easily predict her path. She seemed to be perfectly safe for now, although… Is that someone on the bridge, just ahead of her?

At the same time, Karizma was merrily strolling along, her eyes lighting up with joy at her Archer's offer. "That would be awesome! And then we could speak back and forth, and Costante wouldn't be able to understand a thing." She giggled. "Ohayo! Watashi wa Karizuma-desuuu! Sugoi baka onii-chan arigato!"

Then she heard a faint noise, and immediately stopped in place. "Hey, did you feel that?" Carefree as she acted, her senses had been alert this whole time, and while she could only barely make out the violin note, the release of mana was unmistakable. There was either another Magus or a magical being nearby, and they weren't being careful about hiding their presence.

Her brother's voice suddenly sounded in Archer's head. "There's someone on the bridge just down the road from your current location. They look like they're waiting for you, so it's probably a trap—"

"HEYYYY!" Karizma was already yelling and waving across the bridge. "Hello! Konnichi-wa! Can you hear me?" She was taking care and being cautious like Archer had said, otherwise she might already have been running to greet the (presumably) enemy Master.

[User]
Minamoto no Tametomo

---

Hmm, that wasn't good. An obvious magus, an obvious 'flag' to draw attention in an obvious place, and the faint trill of music winding along through the air. Contante was right to be worried, in his mind, that this could very well be some kind or trap or the like. Not that Karizma's whimsical attempt at anime-drenched Japanese terms wasn't whimsically amusing, but this was more serious than the girl seemed to be wont to treat it-...wait. What?!

Did she just calling attention to them to whoever was over the bridge without support? At least she wasn't running over there with a 'shoot me' sign hung over her neck, but what in the world was she thinking? Was she thinking? Well, he needed to act before anything potentially went more quickly south.

'Constante, please keep an eye for any sudden changes. Anything indicative an of attack perhaps, or preparing a spell or something.'

The boy would hear Archer's message in his own head in return, as the servant materialized (having dematerialized along the way) before grabbing Karizma by the back of her shirt collar and immediately pulling her with him into a nearby big bush among several.

"...Rule One of any kind of 'War': Don't just immediately call out to an enemy waiting for someone in an obvious setup or maybe trap. Now please sight tight for a moment while I see what the deal is here. If a battle breaks out, then don't get shot by stepping into the crossfire. If they wanna' talk, then we can talk. Just let me figure it out, ok?"

Was he babying the girl by whispering to her in this bush he pulled her into? Yes, most definitely and simply yes. Was he trying to keep her alive despite her lack (but not total absence thereof) of survival instincts? Yes. She could not like him for this, she might appreciate it, but regardless she and her brother were under his wing. That was something he took seriously.

Dematerializing, the Archer would remove himself from the bush and take up a spot on he and Karizma's side of the bridge, re-materializing as he sat on a light post. From there the man gave a seemingly casual wave towards the other end with his free hand, his bow firmyl gripped in the other hand as it sat in his lap, albeit his manner almost seemed like someone who just wanted to share a drink. Or maybe it was a friendly idiot act.

"Yo! Is this one of those ambush traps, a nice little challenge for a duel, or some kind of friendly signal to come and talk over some sake? Either way I'll need to know veeeery soon though, or I will have to assume the worst."

In this era he preferred a more casual approach to life, not that he was taking it any less seriously. But if he was making noise and drawing the attention to himself, especially in a manner that made him stand out loudly, that might help Karizma's case if she stayed put in the bushes for the moment being. Maybe. He prayed to the gods of his family that she kept in the bush. Regardless, he would handle things on this end first.

They would be able to find out real fast if those on the other end had one kind of intention or another in doing this. He would be better off taking the attention first in a bad situation, however, than his master would.

@KoL@King Cosmos

[Assistant]
Well, that answers that. Haru figured it would be fine as Archer said. If this was only starting up now, there was no reason to go all-out in a sense. At most, it would take a few days for some to start enacting their strategies. That was what she thought on this. So with that, she could rest easy that there really shouldn't be any drastic action taken for the day.

"O-oh, right... then this should be okay. Yeah." She responded before thinking about where to start their scope-out of the town. There wasn't much to help her with where to start, so that became a matter of winging it as they went for now.

"I guess we can start heading out. From here, there's a bit of farmland before we hit a fork in the road that leads either into the main part of town or a forest path... so we could go with this for now and see where that takes us... does that sound good, Archer?" Haru inquired, seeing it as something to start with.

Daze


[System]
Age: 23
Height: 5 ft 5
Weight: 150 lbs.
Allegiance: 'Hope'
Distinguishing Traits: Iris has a scar on her left hand, located on the wrist which was gained a few years back. No other scars but due to her pale skin Iris tends to bruise easily. Personality wise she is quite head strong, stubborn and isn't afraid to voice her opinion. Although she has light blue eyes in contrast to her fair skin in certain lights her eyes can be mistaken for grey.

Short Bio: Growing up in Aspiria sounded wonderful and it was if you were on the upper side. Iris however had grown up with her father on the rougher side, the commoner side of the city where you lived within your means. If you couldn't afford dinner well you wouldn't have dinner, it was as simple as that. It didn't really matter to her though because she had a loving family, her father worked hard day in and out and her mother kept the house maintained and food in their stomachs and it worked for them.
It all had changed when her mother fell ill and sadly passed away not long after. She had outright refused to use their money on medicine that would help her, and she was a stubborn woman a trait Iris had inherited. That death however sparked a rebellion, it fuelled her father's courage who gathered as many men, women and even teens that was willing to fight. He called it hope, hope for those wanting that better life.

Years had passed with many strikes; fights and a war had started between the two. Neither side wanted to relent, and her father Regis was focused on bringing down the hierarchy. His intentions had been pure at the start but since he was considered the leader of this rebellion, he had become accustomed to the ease of everything. Food on the table, weapons and money all donated to this cause and it fed his greed. He hungered for more, but no one knew that side. Not yet.

Now he had raised his daughter following his beliefs, ensuring that she bore just as much hatred for the higher ups as he did. He constantly twisted and manipulated her mind making her mother a martyr, ensuring that she believed it was their fault and that they had killed her mother and as Iris knew nothing else, she was left to believe such stories. Now being a young adult, she had trained herself to fight in this war, she could use a gun if needed but she much preferred being stealthy favouring a dagger. Using her size to her advantage and her skills in stealth she often gained information as leverage, but she had yet to kill someone, she had yet to have blood on her hands.

_________________________________________________________________________________

[User]
The laughs did not stop, Regis continued to laugh in his cell even as the soldiers dragged him out of his cell whilst they waited for the Aproveset to kick in. Five minutes was all it took before the pain would start, but the laughter was haunting especially as it echoed throughout the halls as he was dragged by the two soldiers. It was like he was crazy, deranged and clearly not all there anymore as the laughter sounded strangled.

Feeling the soldiers throw him into the chair he couldn't help but grin at them both maliciously who in turn exchanged rather concerned looks between one another. "You think you will get me to talk? Think again. I've said all I need to say." The growls emitted from his mouth as he looked from soldier to soldier clearly thinking he was above them. That he was above their interrogation techniques. "There is NOTHING you can do to get information out of me. I won't break."

"How long is left?"

"About two minutes sir."

Swaying on the chair Regis looked over at one of the men who had entered, he wasn't a soldier, but it was clear he was here for a reason perhaps to talk to him? Idiot. He won't get anything from me. "If you think I'll sing like a bird you have another thing coming."

"Oh, I don't think. I know." The male in question spoke as he took a seat, eyes watching the prisoner who had already been through various different creative tortures to get him to talk. The Aproveset was one of their most prized possessions when it came to the difficult talks and this was no exception, he didn't know who this man thought he was, but he would get him to talk. That was his job.

"One minute, sir."

"Very good." Nodding to the soldiers who stood at the door, they were there just in case the prisoner got cocky, in case he thought that he could fight back. Once the drug was in his system however it would be a different story. Throughout this whole time, he did not look away from Regis, he kept his eyes firmly on the prisoner and he would wait. He was a patient man. Tseng would often oversee the interrogation; he had a way with words to push the information out of his prisoners whilst the drug was in effect. It was a speciality of his.

Regis opened his mouth to say something but the minute he did he felt this overwhelming sense of pain, he had never felt this kind of pain before and it even pushed through the withdrawal of the alcohol. "What…" Panting as he looked at the table eyes trying to refocus as he felt the agony course through his entire body.
"Ah, it seems your minute is up. What is your name?" Tseng started as he could see the drug was taking effect by how he was reacting.

"Don't be fucking stupid you know my AH." Regis cried out hand going to his head as all he could feel was the burn, the pain aiding his shakes from his withdrawal and he felt his body temperature rising.

"How many are in your family?"

"Two… shit." Regis couldn't understand why he had said that, but the pain was pushing him forward to answer truthfully.

"A daughter, right? Iris?"

"Yeah, what's it to you?" Regis spat but when he did another cry of pain left his lips as if he'd been stabbed in the leg, hands went down to his leg gripping at eyes glaring as if ready to see blood, but he couldn't. Narrowing his eyes his head was swimming, his daughter Iris the memories flitted by focusing on the one where he had hit her. He felt his chest rising and falling quickly, pants leaving his mouth as his body shook. The pain was becoming unbearable.

[Assistant]
In the span of a few minutes, Atlas's entire world had crumbled around him. Distantly, he was aware that he had fallen and that his face was wet with tears, but he was too lightheaded to dwell on his physical state. He didn't even care that one of his guards was kneeling beside him, witnessing his disgraceful display. He couldn't believe that the rebels had killed his son. It had happened so abruptly that he hadn't had any more time to prepare himself than he would have if Caspian had been hit by a car. All it had taken was five days, and the Scourge had succeeded in severing the royal line and ripping his only child away from him—the only trace of his beloved Sierra that he'd had left. He struggled to breathe through the sobs that wracked his body.

Sitting next to the monarch, Jacob looked on with a concerned expression. He'd never seen King Atlas express such strong emotions before, and he worried about the long-term effects that the loss of his son would have on him as both a man and a leader. Additionally, he could feel Atlas's uneven breathing while his hand was resting on his back. Given his continuously fading health, he was anxious that the king wouldn't be able to recover from this physically either.

Noting that he seemed unresponsive to anything around him, the guard muttered a swear under his breath and turned away from him to look at one of the servants who was standing uncertainly near the edge of the bedroom. "Call his doctor," he ordered. Whether or not Atlas was just mourning, it was safer to call the physician to make sure the emotional trauma hadn't negatively impacted his wellbeing. Aspiria couldn't afford to lose its king right after the crown prince had been murdered.

While the boy hurried off to fulfill the request, Jacob stayed loyally by Atlas's side. "Your Majesty, do you need assistance getting back into bed?" he asked tentatively.

The monarch didn't respond. He didn't even hear the question. At that moment, he was completely absorbed in the recesses of his mind. Even when Jacob risked his neck by picking him up like a large child and setting him down in his bed, he didn't speak a word. Thoughts and memories of Caspian and Sierra had flooded his consciousness. His had been a political marriage, but he had still fallen in love with his wife after their wedding day. His affection for her had been the reason why he'd volunteered to be sterilized after only having one child. Past rulers would have taken up a mistress to produce more legitimate heirs to line up to take over the crown, but he couldn't bear the thought of having any children that weren't half Sierra. It was the same reason why he had never remarried after her untimely death.

Caspian had always been the spitting image of his mother. Although Atlas had been stern with him, he saw Sierra every time the prince snuck small, injured animals into the palace to care for in his bedroom or went out of his way to do favors for his friends. His late wife had been just as tenderhearted. It was one of the qualities he'd loved about her. Unfortunately, such behavior was better fitting of a queen than it was of a king who was expected to rule with an iron fist, so he'd felt the need to correct Caspian whenever he caught him doing his 'good deeds.' Nevertheless, he had always felt like Sierra had lived on through their son. Even his smile reminded him of her.

He coughed, finding it even more difficult to breathe. Besides the resemblance Caspian bore to his mother, he had been fond of him as an individual too. Sure, the prince had needed a lot of work to become the hardened ruler that he was, himself, but at least he had been trying. Now, he would never find out if his heir would have risen up as a promising king to take over the country after he passed.

Now, no one would take over at all.

Abruptly, a deep ache spread like fire through his chest as his illness flared, and he clutched his shirt in pain. Standing by his side, Jacob blanched. As he'd feared, the king wasn't doing well. "Your Highness, are you alright?" he asked urgently, pressing two fingers beneath his monarch's jawline. Atlas's pulse was racing too quickly for him to keep track of every beat. "Fuck," he hissed, retracting his hand. The king was in bad shape. He hoped the doctor would arrive quickly to handle whatever was going on inside the fading man's body. At this rate, they might even need to move him back to the hospital for more intensive care.

[User]
"Iris…" Whispering out her name as he felt his memories muddle up even more, flashes of his daughter passing by as he groaned in pain. A memory of holding her in his arms for the first time when she was born, his wife there smiling. A happy memory, one that he had forgotten for so long, he had forgotten her face. The way her smile would light up the room, the crying child in his arms as they grew their family. "I forgot… the way she smiled." Mumbling to himself in his delirious state as the memory faded into something far worse, the happy picture torn apart as a knife stabbed his wife. The blood curdling scream resonated through his mind, but he hadn't realised that it was his own scream, the painful cry leaving his own lips. The child in the memory fading away alongside the image of his wife.

"You remember Prince Caspain, right?" Tseng pursued not even wincing at the scream of the prisoner, this hadn't been the first time he had questioned prisoners under this drug.

"Cas.. pian." The whisper left his lip as his head lulled forward; the pain hadn't stopped subsided it felt like it was getting worse with each passing minute. His blood felt like it was burning under his skin, head pounding as he remembered various different things. "Dead."

"So, he is dead, did you kill him?" Although it was hard hearing the fact the Prince was dead Tseng knew he had to press on, Jacob wanted to know where the body was. They all did because without a funeral there would be no closure, without a body it would only cause the King to spiral. The war would take a turn for the worse and no one was going to come out of it alive.

"HAH. I killed him… I did that." The grin returned to his face as his eyes glazed over. I did that, right? I killed him? Smashed his head until he bled. Yes. That's the truth? Frowning slightly as he tried to remember the truth, grunts of pain leaving his lips as he tried to focus. Yes. I did that. Caspain is dead. The monarchy is dead. I caused that. I DID THAT. "Smashed that p-pretty little head until he was no more." Coughing as he leaned forward grimacing, "Could paint a picture with all that blood."

"Where is his body? What did you do with it?" Continuing with his questions Tseng would not let up.

"THERE IS NO BODY." Regis shouted, the pain becoming too much, "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO ME?" He felt weak, his body trembled as the pain surpassed the withdrawal. Every inch of him felt like he was on fire, the pain would not stop. It would not subside, and it only worsened as time went on.

"What do you mean no body?" Tseng leaned forward eyes narrowing. "If you co-operate, we will give you the antidote, it will take all that pain away. Trust me. It will only get worse."

"I BURNED the little pest. Can't bury him, now can you?" Spitting at Tseng but as he did another cry left his lips as he whimpered backing down, the anger only made the pain worse.

Leaning up he pressed his coms device that linked with the security, "Subject has confirmed the Prince is dead, that he has burned the body. No locations as of yet." Speaking quickly over the comms device before glancing back at Regis who was swaying in the seat. "I am pushing for more however subject isn't in the best frame of mind already."


[System]
Class: Oracle/Sleeper

Appearance:

Steph is an average looking fifteen-year-old girl, if a bit on the small side. She has short, black hair and piercing blue eyes.

Personality:

Steph is usually quiet and soft-spoken, preferring to silently observe a situation, rather than impetuously rush into the unknown, a trait that should serve her well in her current circumstances. When it comes to her areas of interest (science/technology/learning about the stranger facets of her new world), she can get very intense and focused. She is also quite inquisitive, but she never allows her fascination with something to compromise her sense of caution. She has always loved computers, robotics and technology in general, and is very skilled when it comes to working with it. Naturally, she is very distressed by the current, primitive, state of the world. She is very much a fish out of temporal water, and this has a major impact on how she views the world and interacts with its inhabitants.

History:

The brilliant daughter of two equally brilliant scientists, Stephanie's genius was recognized at an early age, and by the time she turned fifteen, she already had her first doctorate. She routinely assisted her renowned parents with their work, and was well on her way to becoming one of the world's brightest minds. Unfortunately, that world would soon come to a cataclysmic end… As the world of science and progress crumbled around her, Stephanie's parents hastily worked to ensure her survival. She was given a series of highly experimental genetic enhancements, coupled with an equally experimental cybernetic nanotech control system, and placed in a cryonic stasis chamber. Since their facility was located deep underground, and hardened against even the strongest forms of attack, her parents hoped that she would be safe until the world was once again hospitable to human life. Promising Steph that they would join her in stasis shortly, her parents sealed her chamber and hoped for the best.

Abilities:

Enhanced Physical Attributes- Besides her genius-level intellect, Steph has received extensive genetic enhancement, making her stronger, faster, and more resilient than a normal human. Her senses are also much more acute.

Nanite Swarm- In addition, she has access to a small swarm of nanites, which she can control with the use of a cybernetic implant. These nanomachines are limited to performing minor to moderate healing on herself or others (only one person at a time), as well as providing information and manipulating anything made of metal (although in the future, they may be able to expand their capabilities further). The inhabitants of this backwards time will probably consider this to be magic.

Equipment:

Steph was sealed in her cryochamber with nothing other than the pictured outfit.

There was a rather large supply of advanced weapons and survival equipment at the complex in which Steph's cryo chamber is located, but the state of them after the indeterminately long amount of time she has been asleep is anyone's guess…

Steph has also acquired a suit of nanofluidic armor that can disguise itself to match the clothing of anyone nearby.

Steph used her nanites to convert much of her cryostasis chamber into a cryostasis rifle, then a sword, and, currently, a liquid metal backpack.

Steph was given the Earth Sword by Minoc.

RP Notes:

Steph's story is one of coming to terms with her new world and finding her place in it. She is (at least initally) completely alone in what seems to her like a primitive, alien world. At first, she is understandably overwhelmed by her situation, seeing the inhabitants of this new world as little more than backwards savages, but as she begins to learn more, she starts seeing them in a better light, and eventually comes to greatly respect them and the civilization they have built.

While at the start, she might look down on the People of the Realm, she doen't do this out of hatred, but out of a mixture of pity and dissapointment. She hates the fact that the world is so primitive, and wants to do her part to restore at least some of the technology of her original time. Despite this unintentional air of suprioirity, Steph is still a kind person at heart, and one who is always willing to help others.

[User]
Moving through the castle halls, Steph and Peter were careful to avoid attracting undue attention. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be many people around, probably due to the siege Tornel had mentioned. This did pose something of a problem, however, as neither Steph nor Peter had any idea of where the king's chambers were located. They needed directions, and for that, they needed someone to provide them. After ascending a few flights of stairs, they came to a large central chamber, at the far end of which, a figure in fancy armor was giving instructions to a group of several men-at-arms.

Sir Gravy

"Pardon us, sir," Steph said as she and Peter approached the group. "But would you be so kind as to tell us the way to the king's chambers? We're apprentices of Master Minoc of Tinkertown, and we have an urgent message for the king."

"Do you now?" the knight who had been giving orders responded as he turned to face them. "In that case, it shall be my honor to take you to his majesty myself. I am Sir Gravy, a paladin in the king's service, and you can rest assured that you shall be safe in my care, even in the midst of this deplorable siege! Sir Snack!" he called, and a knight in substantially less elaborate armor jumped to attention. "Continue overseeing the preparations in my stead."

With that, the paladin began leading the way to the king's chambers.

"I must say, I find myself somewhat perplexed as to how you made your way here with the dark forces of Draygon having thoroughly surrounded us," Sir Gravy noted as they walked.

"We used a secret underground passage," Steph explained. "It's only known to a select few. In fact," she added, "we didn't even know of it until Master Minoc showed us."

"Ah yes, wizards and their secrets," Sir Gravy said with a chuckle.

"I know, right? Anyway, Master Tornel was supposed to meet us when we arrived, but we haven't seen him anywhere."

"That's most likely due to the siege," the paladin noted. "A wizard of his power is undoubtedly quite busy at a time like this, preparing mighty spells and crafting grand strategies."

"Oh, of course," Steph replied, while doing her best not to roll her eyes at the paladin's high praise of Tornel. "We figured as much ourselves. That's why we were looking for someone else who could show us the way to the king."

"Speaking of his majesty, we have now arrived!" Sir Gravy declared as they stopped before an ornate gilded door. "Your Majesty," he announced. "It is I, Sir Gravy! I have with me two envoys from Tinkertown, apprentices of Master Minoc! They say they carry an urgent message for you!"

[Assistant] A distant roar shakes the ground, and Jabber rises into the sky, eyes gleaming and hungry. He soars over the ground, the land vanishing beneath his shadow, his claws tearing apart trees and roofs. He opens his massive jaws, and roars so loudly and powerfully that animals drop dead from fright. His hungry eyes glow, and a wave of liquid-like fire bursts from his jaws, setting everything around him alight. He flies over the town hall, and lands on the tallest building, roaring, making the shingles rattle, and glass crack and shatter.

[User]
Tinkertown
Dragon

| *********************************** |  Locke walked out onto the small ledge that was the remnants of the bridge. He beheld the Jabberwocky and was afraid. Bravely he forced himself to step forward and look the beast in the eye. "Your Harpy is dead!" He yelled in his strongest voice, "We killed it. There's nobody else here. You got what you came for, now leave us be!" His heart was beating out of control, he had never been so scared in his life, but even though he was only 14 he was the only one left to tell the dragon beast to go.

 |
| --- | --- |

[Assistant] He laughs, a deep, dark laugh, like a set of billows heating a blazing furnace. "What I came for? Listen to yourself, little boy. I don't care about the harpy. I'm here for the Oracle. Hand her over, or burn." He bares his sharp teeth, and grins at him, eyes glowing in hunger.

[User]
The Castle of Solace
@shadowsaint007

 The King stood up at the explosion, slightly befuddled. His ears hurt from the noise and his eyes hurt from the bright light. "Tornel what are you..." Before he could answer Tornel pushed him to the wall and placed his body between the King and the girl. Sarah healed the dog who got up and stated barking.

 "WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU!!" She screamed. For a moment Tornel questioned himself about who she was. Then his mind resolved. Too many strange goings on were happening; the girl in the dungeon, the girl before the king, the monster at the castle walls. The wizard didn't feel in control, and nothing made him angrier then not being in control. He loaded another vial into his gauntlet.

 "Stay back Witch! I'll not have you murder out King!" He yelled.

 The King had had enough. "You will stop this Tornel!" He commanded regally.

 Tornel turned a weary eye back, "Yo... You Highness?"

 "This girl is our guest, and under my Protection!" The King was furious, "you will NEVER use such weapons in my presence! I should have you beheaded!"

 Tornel looked abashed, his face reddened, "Your Majesty I, I only mean to protect you. She is.."

 "She is an Holy Oracle," The King proclaimed.

 "a... a holy oracle." Tornel demured.

 "Your Majesty," a booming voice announced from the other side of the door leading out. "It is I, Sir Gravy! I have with me two envoys from Tinkertown, apprentices of Master Minoc! They say they carry an urgent message for you!"

 Tornel's eyes widened in panic. "Your Highness! These individuals are precisely the reason I had to come to you to warn you about! They are monster's of Draygon, shapeshifters here to fool you. Do not..."

 The King slapped the Wizard, *SMACK!* "Do not deign to tell me what I shall and shall not do," he said quietly, "I am your King! and it is I who command you." Tornel took to his knees and bowed his head.

 "Forgive me Your Highness," he said, "I live only to serve." and I will dispatch of these wretches when I get the first chance. He thought privately.

 "ENTER Knight!" The King yelled, "and come in with the messengers." The attendant, who had made himself scarce since Tornel entered the room, opened the door to reveal Sir Gravy and Stephanie.

[Assistant]
"Greetings, your Majesty," Steph said as she entered and bowed before the king. Her eyes hardened as she took note that Tornel was also present, along with a pink-haired girl. Presumably this was the "Sarah" the fairy had mentioned. "My name is Stephanie, and this is Peter," she informed, gesturing to the young apprentice who was currently cowering behind her.

"H-Hello…" the apprentice said meekly, rather overwhelmed by his current situation. First an oracle, then the leader of the wizards, and now the king himself! This was certainly the most remarkable day of his young life, and it was getting to be a bit much for the poor young man.

"We came here at the request of Master Minoc," Steph continued. "He told us that we would be met by the wise wizard Tornel, but when we arrived, Tornel locked us in a chamber and called us servants of Draygon! Minoc even told us to present this weapon to him," she explained, while retrieving the sword from her backpack. "But he carelessly dismissed it without even looking at it! There's one other thing," she added in a more reserved tone. "I'm not an apprentice of Minoc. I'm actually what you people would call an oracle. I'm sorry, Sir Gravy," she told the knight, trying not to laugh as she said his ridiculous name. "I didn't want to lie to you, but we needed to see the king and explain the situation to him."

"Gadzooks!" the paladin exclaimed. "Are you to tell me that I have been in the presence of one of the legendary oracles this entire time?! Truly extraordinary! It was my honor to be of service to you, my lady!" he declared, bowing to her in deference. Then, sobering, he added, "And though I bristle at your deception, I can see that it was for a worthy cause. Thus, it shall be my great pleasure to accept your apology!"

"Thank you," Steph said while treating the paladin to a warm smile. "That really means a lot. Oh, and you don't need to do the whole 'my lady' thing. Just call me Steph."

"Very well, young Steph," Sir Gravy acquiesced. "I shall respect your wish for modesty. And what of you young Peter," the paladin inquired. "Are you also an oracle of legend?"

"N-No, sir," Peter stammered. "I-I'm just an ordinary apprentice. I-In fact, I p-probably shouldn't even be here…"


[System]
Age: 21

Gender: Female

Appearance:

Abilities:
Luna is one of the strongest warriors from her family. Part of that comes from her unwavering training in her youth and part is from an inherited power in her lineage. Long ago, a dying Elder Beast made her family, so long as they were honorable warriors, inherit the remnants of her strength throughout their line. It was an Elder Beast of Light and Honor, or so the stories told. Out of her two elder brothers, her and a younger brother and sister, it appeared as though she were the one to inherit most of the generations power though the family's heir was close behind her.

For that, she is able to use a variety of Light based Magics. Healing and creating weapons from that light based magic, hence the family name, as well coating her weapon with light energy to strengthen it (though this can become taxing). She also can create damaging beams of light from her hands that damage opponents. Among other things, of course.

In addition to her family's boon from an Elder Beast, there were stories that far before the Lightswords were even called such, they had mixings with giants and have a very small amount of giant blood in their veins. There isn't much to it. They have a small affinity for the giant's relation to fire which gives them a resistance to the cold. Luna won't be jumping in a freezing ocean but she can more easily resist the cold winds of the north. Their strength is also increased a small bit thanks to their giant ancestors.

History:
A long time ago, to the cold north, the Lightsword family was not known as such. It was a clan of warriors with no such name. Then one day, Lucilia, an Elder Beast, took them under her wing. She saw their honor in combat and taught them and blessed them with her power. From that day, the clan was blessed with Light Magic. They fought with Lucilia for years until one day, she lost in battle and was put on her death bed. As she lay, she told the clan that they would continue to receive her blessing in their lineage so long as they stayed honorable warriors. The clan wholeheartedly agreed and had their entire line blessed and given the name, Lightsword. So the story goes, skipping over a couple of specifics. Still, Lunalel goes by this story, proud of it. If one asked her to recite the tale, no matter how many times, she definitely wouldn't mind sharing it. She could recite the majority of the tale perfectly since even before she could hold a blade properly though that was earlier than a normal child, given the family's heritage. And when she could hold the blade, she trained with it the rest of her life, becoming one of the best swordsmen or women of her generation in Lightsword territory. After a time, she went on active patrols with the soldiers. They would patrol the land and made sure that there was no threat of robbers, brigands, bandits, monsters and many other things. From there she received a reputation of being fairly well liked among the soldiers for a couple of things. They trusted her strength and endurance, such as when she made every grown man seem like a small child when she won a drinking contest against some of the best!

In recent days, Lunalel was with a number of soldiers in a small patrol. While on patrol, they were beset by a large pack of feral, starving beasts. While they would be able to slay a number of the beasts on their own, there were too many of them as they were being surrounded. Some beasts lunged and were quickly dispatched by the squad as they started to back up trying to not get fully surrounded and soon they made a break for it. They knew the location of a chokepoint nearby so they could prevent being surrounded on all sides.

As they retreated, the beasts were on their heels trying to maul or bite them only to receive spear thrusts or sword swipes. One soldier was about to be pounced on by the beast! Quickly, Luna aimed her hand at the oncoming beast and shot it with a beam of light powerful enough to kill it's frail being. Soon, the group arrived in a cave, as defensible as one could get against beasts like this. They set up a position ready to strike down any beast that enters. Soon, a pile of haggard and starving corpses lay at their feet but there was no sign of them stopping. They wondered what could possibly push such beasts to attack without regard but there was little time to discuss it before they had to defend themselves. Soon, however, a loud crackle was heard outside the cave and a figure appeared before them…

The figure, a woman, then asked them if they belong to the Lightsword house, to which of course, Lunalel smiled and admitted that she was the first daughter of Lord Lightsword before thanking her for saving them. From there, she led the woman to the castle. Where she introduced the woman and reported the attack. The woman needed to talk to her father about something and he dismissed everyone in attendance aside his Heir. Sometime later that day, her Father came to her and told her that she had a month to get ready for she had somewhere to go for him.

Anything else:
-Has a High Tolerance for Alcohol. Particularly likes the taste of mead.
-Her family has her mother and father (though apparently she takes more after her father), her two elder brothers, a younger brother and a younger sister and many extended relatives aside.
-Insists others call her Luna, rather than Lunalel, if they're friends.
-Gets flustered if a woman starts to hit on her.

[User]
"Yay! Rune remembered to tag me!."

— Luana Roycroft

Paladin@Rune_Alchemist

It wasn't uncommon for ambush predators to retreat. While it felt like the fighting had only begun, there was no reason to assume something that preyed on villagers would want to fight trained knights.

Luana hadn't acknowledged Lugh, likely because she couldn't hear anything. The green cloth was still spilling out of the skunk's ears as it ran after the tree monster.

Ethelred was likely the strongest out of all of them, but even he had to realize the situation wasn't great. It was trying to run off with him and seemed to be assisting with splitting itself even wider. Was this even their mark or merely a puppet controlled by some mastermind? There was no way to tell, but destroying it was a priority.

The charging skunk gradually morphed into a larger shape. Its twig-like legs became furry logs, and a grizzly lumbered its way after the tree. A bear's claws were unlikely to do much damage to such a thick trunk, but it may have been enough to strip the bark off the roots for a good bite. The goal wasn't to put the tree out of commission, but to prevent it from running off.

"Can anybody cook this thing?"

[Assistant]
A horrific smell made its way into Ethelred's helmet and into his nostrils as he heard Lugh's protests. He glanced back just long enough to see the poor Tuatha near Luana, who had taken the form of a skunk.

Poor Lugh, I hope that they have a magical way to get that smell out. Luana was probably trying to help counteract the tree's strange scent, but why didn't she just spray the tree instead, he wondered.

He didn't have time to think too much about it- the much more pressing matter was that the tree seemed to cease as the trunk finally cracked. Once it did, however, the tree began to move again. A large mass of branches came towards Ethelred, compelling the Frozen Knight to withdraw his lance from the widened crack and attempt to move away from the attack- assuming the frozen roots around him did not maintain their hold.

It was curious, perhaps perplexing when Ethelred saw the tree seemingly trying to widen its crack. Nothing could prepare him, however, for the sign of the tree trying to move away, seemingly in an attempt to escape its attackers.

Normally the Frozen Knight didn't like to chase down fleeing enemies. But regardless of whether it was an Unseelie or simply something twisted by their curses, this tree was a threat to the good people of Albion, and it needed to be stopped before it could place its roots down elsewhere and consume more people. Assuming he escaped the tree's grip, he would pursue the tree and attempt to drive his lance into one of its roots in an attempt to stake it into the ground. Regardless of his situation, he would convey what was likely a rather pointless ultimatum, and one that'd probably appear rather silly to everyone involved.

"You've taken your last innocent life, tree! If there's any intelligence in that trunk, you'd better surrender else we'll cut you down!"

@Rune_Alchemist

[User]
"She should be a lot more aware," complained Fio, her slender legs still kicking irritably as her grip on the pillow tightened, "It's not as if I think she's endangered, but just running off... hmph."

The Sword Witch's irritable huff was followed by her pressing her face into the pillow, only her eyes now visible.

"I go through all that effort, the least she could do is be here to say I did a good job..."

Of course, her voice was so muffled by the pillow it would be very difficult to make out what she was saying in the first place. Indeed, even though she was exhausted, there was no way Fio would let anyone hear her complaining about a lack of praise from the Queen. She was supposed to be verifying if she was even who she said she was in the first place, not complaining about her not being around to praise her. Besides, it wasn't as if she cared in the first place!

She definitely didn't.

Clearly.

When she fell onto her side on the bed, she hugged the pillow even harder. It was as if she was imagining it was Sorcha's head, and she was squeezing it until Sorcha apologized for just disappearing like that.

[Assistant]
"What do you mean by that Lady Sarah...?" Luna started to ask before looking over at her maid. Sucaria, for her part, seemed normal. Mostly. There was just this hint of... Something. Luna couldn't quite put figure it out before Sucaria helped her out and suggested putting a healing salve on her head which. "Yea... That's not a bad idea, Sucari--a!?" The Knightess exclaimed as this Lady Sarah started to pull her back into the festivities.

She wass suggesting to continue joining in on the festivities and in her semi-dizzy state, it was hard to really fight back being pulled along. Sucaria, for her part, did not want to stay here and said they needed to head back to Airedale. "Well, Sucaria, I won't take part in any more drinking of alcohol, but it wouldn't be a bad idea to stay with them to sleep before getting back on the road." That was when she remembered that Sucaria felt, odd, about this place. She frowned as she pondered it for a few seconds. "Hey, uhh, Lady Sarah, would you mind if I talk privately to Sucaria for a bit so we can discuss our plans?" She tried not to look the elf directly in the eyes as she asked, to avoid any more of these blushing incidents.

Once the elf let her go, she went over to Sucaria. "Well, while you're applying the salve... Are you still having that bad feeling about this place and is that why you want to leave? If not, we probably should take a rest here while we can do so safely. If so... Well, we could get going."


[System]
Gender: M

Age: 26

Career/Class:Soldier / Ex-Soldier

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

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

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

[User]
The Ostlander had to keep himself calm. His sword howled in his mind so loudly he was almost afraid others would hear it. He heard Camilla but was too overwhelmed by instinct borne of his sword to reply immediately. Cyrdic sniffed the air, his keen senses trying to penetrate past the scent of spices and sweat that permeated the room. The room. No, the tapestries. The markings along the tapestries in blood. They were miniature portals that led to the realm of Chaos. No wonder he hadn't sensed the demonic temptresses before.

The sudden insight opened his eyes essentially, and he was suddenly aware of the twisting horns and curled tails of the succubi who writhed, tasted, and bucked against the last remaining men and women who tried to fight against them, their screams turning to moans of erupting pleasure as they began to cling and begged for more. Cyrdic wanted nothing more than to hack his way through and escape, but despite his strength and runic sword, there were too many of them. He did all he could to keep the magic of the Ulrican blade contained and not give away their position.

"Cyrdic," Camilla whispered harshly, trying to gain his attention to what she had said. She tugged at his arm fiercely.

Cyrdic took his mask off, tore Camilla's mask off and suddenly kissed her roughly. Camilla blinked in surprise, and after a moment she tried to push him away, thinking he had been bewitched as the others had. Instead, Cyrdic lifted her up in his arms and carried her to the wall, pressing her into it as if he was lost in a world of lust, his huge bulk forcing her to comply. That is, until his hand on the wall slowly slipped over and found the door handle.

The mere turning of the knob caused the succubi to screech in their minds, but the two were already gone and nearly tumbling down the stairs, Camilla no longer trying to fight and Cyrdic running as fast as he could down the twisting steps until the two suddenly burst into the main dining hall. Multitudes of men and women looked up from their dinners to see Camilla's leg's around Cyrdic's waist and Cyrdic holding Camilla up, their hair disheveled.

With a slow dignity only a royal princess could muster, Camilla climbed off of Cyrdic and straightened her clothes. Cyrdic tried to brush his unruly hair with his fingers, and the two strode out of the Hussar's Hooves as quickly and silently as they could muster, glaring at any who dared watch them too closely. When they made it out into the night air, Cyrdic rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry." he whispered, meaning his forceful kiss upstairs. "I didn't know how else to get out..."

[Assistant]
Camilla leaned in an kissed Cydric passionately.

"We need more plans that start that way!"
Behind them she heard shouts of confusion which quickly transmuted to panic. A fat man burst from the Golden Huzzah blubbering in terror. He fled sightlessly past Cydric and Camilla, his tunic soaked with ale and spilled food. Behind him came a flood of other patrons. Whether it was the daemons or the cultists, someone was obviously giving chase.

"Best we scappa!" Camilla added. She didn't have her sword and even if she did she didn't care to try it against the seductive daemon women that had been summoned from the tapestry. She saw half naked cultists appearing in the door, hands and improvised weapons slicked with blood. One of the women a plain looking merchant's wife had blood around her mouth and was licking it away in obvious ecstasy. Without another word the pair of mercenaries turned and fled with the remaining patrons.

If the cultists pursued them they were quickly lost in the twisting streets of the city. After a few minutes they slowed and stepped into an alley, waiting and watching. The alarm bells began to clamor and soldiers rushed passed in the general direction of the tavern. Even against the sky Camillia could see a pall of smoke begining to rise.

"They must have set it on fire," she concluded, shivering at the lengths cultists would go to to achive their horrifying aims.

"We need…" the thought was interrupted by the chiming of bells.

"Palle di Ranald! We need to be at the palace!" Camilla hissed, suddenly remembering Dietricha's cryptic message. It could have been meant for today or tomorrow, but suddenly Camilla was overcome with the absolute certainty that it meant tonight.

[User]
Cyrdic was glad the room of perverse cultists didn't ruin Camilla's spirits or libido!

"Sigmar, the Palace..." Cyrdic lamented. He nearly cursed, but he realized the Gods might be the only thing he can count on to save them this time. He wasn't about to displease them. "At least we're dressed the part." He said, barreling down one of the lesser lit streets, the patter of Camilla's footsteps letting him know she was still beside him.

His warrior instincts told him there was no more pursuit. His adrenaline from being chased to running to reach a deadline. "I wish we still had out horses" he said as he ran. They had been a bit too preoccupied to grab them. It took him a second to remember the horses weren't theirs to forget. Oleg would need to bill them, he guessed.

After ducking and dodging through the grim streets of Praag, trying to keep out of the soldier's eyes as best they could (it wouldn't do for Palace Guests to be questioned and placed in Jail for the night) they turned the last corner and nearly ran into the Palace sentries. Kislevites wearing impeccably forged breastplates and bearskin hats halted them with halberds, almost skewering Cyrdic. He had to grab Camilla before she ran straight into one of the guards.

"Halt! Wvat business do you haf at the palace! Speak quickly, or leave zis place at once!"

Cyrdic held his hands up, opening his mouth to speak before Camilla's delicate hand covered his mouth with a hard clap. "Actually, we have been invited by Duke Enrik for the festivities this evening. I do believe our effects are in order?" She spoke so quickly, Cyrdic almost didn't realize her accent was perfect Kislevite. With a gesture she produced the letter of invitation, presenting it to the Guard in question.

"T-They are."

"Thank you, lovely to see you." Camilla blew kisses at the guards as she shoved her big companion forward. Cyrdic shook his head. "I love you, you know that?"

[Assistant]
Camilla gave Cydric a wink and a smile as they were whisked through the gothic architecture of the palace. Unlike the Empire, where a degree of sophistication and the widespread use of gunpowder had turned palaces into something more on the lines of fortified manors, the Kislevite castle was built for defense first and lived in only as an afterthought. Although the walls were hung with rich tapestries, there was no disguising the numerous blind turns, sally ports and chokepoints which would make taking the citadel room by room a bloody business. Camilla didn't doubt their were murder holes and other defenses that she didn't recognise.

In Tilea sieges were rare. Few mercenaries, who made up the majority of Tilean armies, were willing to take on such long contracts and few captains wanted to watch their men dwindle away to disease and disorder. Paying for men to sit around wasn't good business particularly when those men were just as likely to strike a new contract with the besieged and march off to attack their previous employers. Worse still if your mercenaries were off besieging another city, your other rivals, and all Tilean city states were rivals, were liable to seize on the moment to attack you. Other City States might attack the besieger simply to prevent them from gaining an advantage.

For all the brutal austerity of the palace, the throne room certainly had a barbaric splendour. Great fireplaces carved to resemble great stone gargoyles flanked either side of an immense hall. Dozens of pillars, each engraved with images of either history or myth, it was hard to tell in Kislev, reached towards the massive vaulted ceiling. Decorative bunting drooped and fluttered in the erratic breeze. The prince, a very austere looking man with grey hair at his temples sat on a throne which was raised two or three feet above the floor where dozens of nobles mingled around a great table. Although there was no shortage of food, it wasn't quite the cornucopia Camilla had expected. Roasted geese and vegetables steamed on platters and fresh fruit was laid out as garnish. Clearly the prince was taking the prospect of the siege seriously and was using only the most perishable of fare for his feast.

As Camilla and Cydric stepped onto the floor bells began to chime. Remembering the wizard warning Camilla looked up to find the woman sitting in a corner, she was dressed in a fine ill fitting gown but her hair was frazzled as though she had run her feet through a rug to many times. The Celestial wizard met her eyes and looked immediately relieved, though she made no move to join them or speak to them.

A livered footman stepped forward and lifted a iron shod staff into the air before driving it down onto the stone floor with ceremonial precision.

"The Graf and Gravine of Estabrook," he announced. Camilla leaned close to Cydric.

"Are those our titles? Im a grapevine?!"

[User]
Cyrdic was similarly taken aback. "My question is..." he whispered. "-is Estabrook an Imperial or Kislevite province?"

Cyrdic had traveled far, but he had not been to every corner of the Old World, yet. It sounded Imperial, so he would attempt that and hope for the best. Thankfully marriages can happen across provinces, so Camilla could use her native Tilean, or anything she would like.

A quick glance showed the room had far more variety on the guest-list than he had anticipated. There were plenty of Kislevite noblemen, in their feral furs, curved beards, and strange hats, there wives similarly adorned (bar the beards). However to his surprise, he saw three Dwarf Slayers who spoke to one another in hushed tones at the corner of the throneroom, and even more strangely, five elves of Ulthuan. A young Elf in scholar's robes, flanked by what Cyrdic theorized was his 4 household guard.

The Duke Enrik sat on his throne, trying his best to be approachable, but he still had a severe look about him. A few of the higher ranking Barons mingled about him, drinking wine and speaking in their northern tongue. Complaining and fretting, more like. A few of the taller ones that walked with the same gait as Ivan seemed more apt to silence with sudden bursts of loud boasting, ornate scimitars hanging from their belts.

Cyrdic and Camilla were suddenly greeted by an Imperial Noble and his wife, one of the few Imperials in the room. Judging by the red finery and the griffon on the emblem of the man's resplendent and obviously novelty armor, they were Reiklanders. The man was tall, nearly Cyrdic's height, though less muscled with a face framed by a well groomed mustache. The woman was a sultry blonde who seemed to disdain the fact they were so far north in all things save the wolf fur she fashionably requisitioned that lay across her delicate shoulders.

"Ah, Imperials are you? Or is Estabrook elsewhere Herr..."

"Richter." Cyrdic said, glad these two confirmed his suspicions on Estabrook being an Imperial name. "of Middenland. This is my wife, Gabriella."

They both gave slight bows to Camilla. Cyrdic nearly chortled, for the blonde did not even seem to notice either of them until she lay eyes on Camilla during the bow and suddenly blinked, her jaw slacking. If Cyrdic had to guess, she likely just realized Camilla was perhaps the only woman in the room more attractive than her. "What brings you this far north, my lord?"

"Adolf Lichter." the nobleman introduced himself. "And my wife, Elise of Talabecland. We have a few contacts within Praag, old acquaintences of my father. We were sent to negotiate and meet with them until this bloody Chaos invasion, and we find ourselves trapped here same as many I suppose. An odd thing. If only the wastes were near Tilea or Estalia, perhaps seiges would be far more pleasant." He joked. "And you, what brings you to this...fair city?"

Cyrdic opened his mouth to speak, and suddenly he smelled something. Something only someone with his keen nose would detect. It was not even an out of the ordinary smell, like the musk of beastmen or the stench of Orcs. He smelled the perfume of the room they had barely escaped alive not hours ago, in the Hussars Hooves. Someone who had attended there was in this room.


[System]
Mable
Nickname/Alias: Mable
Race: Valiant
Age: 20
Ethnicity: N/A
Gender: Female
Appearance: First things first, you should know what a Valiant is. A Valiant is a humanoid alien race. Upon first glance the most identifiable thing one will notice is their skin, because it's blue. Next one may notice that Valiant eyes have a wide range of colors, ranging from black, blue, red, purple, green and so forth. Mable's eyes happen to be a vibrant shade of pink, which is atypical even for a Valiant. Valiant hair follicles are much thicker than human hair, about the thickness of spaghetti. I know that may give you a gross mental image, but trust me, the comparisons stop there. Valiant hair isn't sticky and wet, nor is it nearly as delicious. Mable's red hair is cut to end just above her shoulders, the thick strands subtly curvy. She likes to fashion a single bang into a braid, and tends to accent it with a bow or other hair accessories. Mable has soft facial features, with large energetic eyes, a small perky nose, smooth jaw line and round cheeks. across her cheeks and around her nose she has a few freckles. She smiles often, revealing that she has dimples.

Mable is five feet, nine inches tall, which is actually fairly short for a Valiant. She has a fairly lithe figure, with a slim waist and slightly visible muscle definition. Let's see what else... what else is there to note about a female character's appearance... Something unique to females... bah, I'm drawing a flat blank.

Clothing: Mable wears fairly extravagant clothing, especially when compared to the drab tatters of the masses. Her position in society allows her to wear colorful and frilly clothing, such as fancy blouses and sweaters, though more often than not she likes to wear something fashionable yet comfortable such as light jackets and skirts with compression shorts.

In The Mind

Personality: Saccharine, would be a fitting word to describe Mable, but in case you aren't an English major or a pretentious writer I'll explain more. Mable is an energetic, cheery individual. She is highly extroverted, delighting in the company of others and engaging in physical activity. You'll be hard pressed to find her in a bad mood, even in distressing situations she finds a way to keep a positive attitude, always looking on the bright side and how to move forward. She can be pushy about making sure others feel the same way, insisting that people keep a smile on their face, and she will stubbornly hold to her own gleeful demeanor in spite of them.

Mable is aggressive in her endeavors, once she sets her sights on something she always intends to succeed and surpass, because of this failure can hit her hard, and cause her to act recklessly to compensate. In general, she's rather impulsive and spontaneous, often acting in brazen and strange ways. That's not to say Mable is an idiot, to the contrary in contrast to her bubbly personality she is pragmatic and insightful. While she may say and do outlandish things she does so with cause.

Likes: Extreme Sports, animals, sweets.
Dislikes: Hey, Mable loves everyone.
Fears: Failure, gloomy moods.
Quirks: Mable has a habit of smiling when nervous or distressed, it's almost as if she's incapable of frowning.

Where They've Been

History: Mable was born on a distant planet where her race originates. She had a rough childhood, as she didn't quite fit in with what was the norm on her home world. She often got in trouble with other kids, and often she would get hurt. Regardless, she always kept her head held up and strove to do her best in spite of what others thought. At the age of 16 she was involved in an incident that resulted in the death of her parents and many others. Mable stuck to the claim that she was innocent, however due to her muddled past she had little to stand on, and was exiled from the planet.

She ended up on New Earth, and at first things were tough. She tried to find a job she could enjoy, but ended up working in a factory putting together various electronics. She could have stayed like this the rest of her life, but she wasn't happy, and that was unacceptable. She learned of a talent competition being held in the city, and even though she knew it was more propaganda she joined, and won. Mable could sing, very well, Galatec took advantage of this and turned her into a Galatec brand idol. From singing songs laden with hidden messages, to appearing in ads all over the planet, she became one of the recognizable faces of Galatec.

Life became easier for Mable, Galatec provided her with money and a nice home. Yet she did not forget about the people less fortunate than her. Mable wants to change things, and as she sees it, the best way to do this is from the inside.

Talents: Mable is a great singer and dancer, she can also play the guitar. She is very athletic, and has good reflexes and adaptability.
Hindrances: Mable has a hard time focusing on things that are not right in front of her, her stubborn attitude makes her driven, but can easily backfire.
Powers: As a Valiant, Mable has much greater strength than a normal human being, to the point she can easily lift a car. Valiants are also able to emit stored energy from their body that comes out as small explosions, however overuse can cause them to pass out.
Equipment: Morpher??

Bonus Round

Quotes: "Peace and Love!"
Theme Song: N/A
Aspiration: Love and Peace!

It's Morphin' Time!

Color Designation: ??
Primary Weapon: A 7 foot long double edged batte axe
Energy Shield: Her shield is shaped like a 6 pointed star with rounded points.
Blaster Design: A blaster shaped like a megaphone that fires round sound waves that expand over distance and explode on contact.
Powers: ??
Zords:

Bright lights of various colors flashed upon a cheering crowd of countless people, music boomed from giant speakers, enthralling the masses like a hypnotic virus. On a raised stage a blue skinned young woman dressed in a frilly dress danced and sung, her body moved rhythmically to the tune of her own majestic voice and accompanying pop instrumentals. Her feet tapped and slid across the floor, her hands vogued stylishly as she pleased the crowd.

This song is terrible. She thought, as she spun around a backup dancer. These lights are probably screwing up their minds. She complained, as she hit a high note. Whoever wrote these lyrics isn't very subtle. She thought, as she sang "These chains that bind, I can't deny!"

She was putting on a performance for the people alright, but it wasn't hers. For all intents and purposes she was just another product of Galatec, if they could box her and sell her as merchandise they would. She knew she was being used, but at the very least she took solace in the fact that these people were having fun. The people of New Earth had very little to give them comfort, and if her fake performance could help them make it to the next day, then that was enough.

Eventually she ended her last song, and bowed to the cheering crowd. She raised her head and waved to them. "Thank you for coming everyone! I love you all!" She said in earnest. "Remember, Peace. And. Love!" She said posing for each word. Mable pranced offstage to the sound of clapping and elated screaming.

As she entered the back of the stage she arrived to what was essentially a TV shoot. Right after her concert, she was to meet with a few lucky fans. Sadly, there were no lucky fans, Galatec choose the people to meet her. They hadn't told her that, but it was more than obvious. She knew fake joy better than anyone, so when a teen girl that looked like a model taken from a catalog shook her hand and gushed about how this was the best day of her life, she saw right through it. She shook hand after hand, as Galatec supervisors filmed to make sure the watchers at home knew just how pleasant things were.

The last bogus fan was a boy around the age of 7, he jumped up and down and exclaimed how he wanted to be an idol one day too. Mable stood from her seat and picked the boy up, hugging him like a beloved teddy bear. "You're already an idol to me, seeing how motivated you are has made my day!" She sat the boy down and shook his hand, she noticed him hand something to her in the process. This wasn't in the script, she'd never gotten a gift from one of these propaganda fan meets. Before she could say anything, the boy had taken off. Mable held the gift in her hand, hiding it from the supervisors as they cleaned up the area and packed things away.

"Ms.Love, your ride is ready." A supervisor called from behind her. She was on Galatec company time, which meant she went home when they wanted her to. She nodded and followed the supervisor, who appeared to be an aquatic alien with a round glass helmet around his head filled with water, because of this his voice came from a synthesized device. She wondered if he worked for Galatec willingly, or if he was another victim.

After a short, silent ride she arrived to her home, which was a fancy apartment in a skyscraper. As she entered the building and got into an elevator she was finally alone. She opened her palm, and saw what was given to her for the first time. It was a small cylinder tube. She took the top off and dumped a piece of paper into her hand. She unrolled it, and smiled wide as she read the message.

'The time to strike back is coming. Be prepared. And enjoy the gift, it's the least we can do for the information you have provided us.'

As the elevator doors opened Mable ate the message, and threw the cylinder away into a bin in the hall. She entered her apartment, and quickly went into her bedroom. Sitting upon her nightstand was a picture, but not just any picture. It was a framed moment of her memory, a picture of her mother and father with her. She was sixteen when it was taken, but when she looked at that picture she could remember that day like it was yesterday. She picked up the picture, and couldn't help but fall to her knees and hold it close. With a quivering smile and running eyes she laid down on her bed, and for the first time in years slept in a home that felt like home.

[User]
Jonah placed a hand on Clementine's shoulder.

 She was growing in instability, obviously shaken by the context of the discussion and while he understood her concern, that wasn't what they needed right now. They needed to think calmly, assess the situation and these people to determine their real motives. This was most likely a trap anyway, and even if it wasn't, there was no reason to just go along with whatever they said.

 Though, one of them seemed to be totally unaware of their situation. If Jonah wasn't so focused on the task at hand, he'd slap the toy-maker across the face for acting so ridiculous in the face of a serious problem. Did he think this was some sort of game? Well, it didn't matter in the end. If this was a test, Jonah was pretty sure that guy just failed it.

 The other one had his doubts, he seemed slightly more rational than the rest and rightfully questioned their chances of success. Than the woman, Samara, began talking about plans of hope and dreams and freedom. Their "mentor" even gave a speech of his own.

 And then it hit him, the final conclusion born from his philosophy.

 He laughed at the sudden realization, every other thought seemingly just passing by, washing away in the face of what stood before him. The possibility, the potential reality, all hitting him at once as he took a step forward after silently contemplating for a moment.

 "I'm gonna say I believe him since I'm doubting that this is an exercise. Given the circumstances required, it's far too unlikely that we'd be given so much attention and planning just for a simple trust exercise or screening. We're simple workers with no great power in the system, they'd more likely just kill us if they had that high a suspicion. " His sharp eyed glare never left his target. "And besides, even if he sends us back, the security cameras would have clearly seen us all disappear already. There will be questionings, investigations into our lives, that's how these things work when an empire loses track of its workers completely. Whatever freedoms we had before won't be there when the dust clears. So, you're either a liar or you just gambled with all of our lives for a self righteous ideal. Like I already said though, I'm assuming the latter option."

 But, with all of that being said, there was still only one option, only one course left.

 "I'm in."

 Because the objective truth was, his life was over, the hope speeches and ideological resolves didn't matter. His plans were gone, whatever trust Galatec had in him would probably be broken by the time he showed his face again so he might as well go all in. What is is and what is not is not, he'd deal, that's how he lived.

 "But let me make something clear, I don't believe in heroes or a righteous cause. I'm doing this because I want to."

 But even more than that, more than the logical conclusion; he had wanted this to happen, an excuse to not care. Let's face it, he'd been waiting for something like this to push him ever since he let that girl go at the mines, ever since he saw her name plastered on a random TV screen that said she had joined the rebel army officially.

 "So,"

 He folded his arms.

"When do we get started?"

[Assistant]
Adelram Drax

Adelram calculated his next course of action. With the Foreman over the railing, a swing of his axe would be very problematic for the ex-soldier. He grabbed the end of the handle of his axe that was attached to his back, but halted when a sudden communication fizzled through his communication.

His new directive was to take the Foreman captive once more, if he was not already dead. Drax's mission was just extended as the Foreman was currently still alive. He also began to consider the possibilities as to why the Regional Manager wished to see the Foreman once again. However, it was not of his concern. The mission will be completed.

"Foreman Jo'ones, Madam Ruthalia wishes to have an audience with you. Your compliance is not necessary but may be appreciated." Drax said, voice predictably even and clear. As he spoke these words he quickly paced over to where the Foreman was hanging and attempted to grab his legs with his giant left hand.

[User]
"What's that sound? Is... is that a bunch of fish floundering about?" Mable mused, only to turn around and see that it was her manager clapping with his Lovecraftian arms. She held in a laugh that desperately wanted to get out. "Don't you worry about my performance, I've never made a single mistake during a concert, and I won't start now."

With practice done and her make-up applied she had nothing to do until the show started, that is until someone knocked on a door. Mable looked around and saw that no one else was in a hurry to see who it was, so she walked up to it herself and opened it.


[System]
Age: 17

Weapons: Practice Bow

Arcana: Lovers

Personas: Narcissus

[User]
Haruna Nakano awoke with a start, and while that was completely normal the conditions were anything but. The girl pushed herself up from the heavily littered floor, her head was pounding something fierce, what's worse she didn't know why. She most certainly got enough sleep last night and there was no reason why she was hurting. It was then she noticed the shattered mirror, if nothing else that provided some clues on what possibly could've happened, did she smack her head into it? She stood up to take a closer look... it was odd there weren't any glass shards, not even scattered across the floor, which boded well for her seeing as she was just sprawled across it. Haruna sighed and shook her head, it was way too early to start using her brain so instead she opted just not to worry about it for now. Curiously she was already dressed for school, uniform and even that light coat she usually wore. While it wouldn't be a first time, she swore she changed out of them.

With a yawn she starting looking for her phone on a cluttered side table, she really need to clean this room up; a lot of things had been going missing. Fortunately her phone wasn't on this list of missing items as she found it without too much searching. Turned out she was running late at 8:21, good thing she was already prepared to go. Haruna left her home in a hurry, by then both of her parents should already be gone, besides they don't typically get involved in her business anyway.

It didn't take long until she started to notice the... unsettling atmosphere of her street. It wasn't so much to do with the stormy sky, that was completely normal to her, but of course it was the lack of people. No matter what there should have been at least someone walking the streets, especially at that time of day, it was like a scene from a horror movie with how desolate it felt. Just what was going on? Between her vaporized mirror and the abandoned road, her day was shaping up to be something else.

Haruna looked up when she heard the sound of footsteps. She strained to listen, it was definitely someone running, the clatter of shoes hitting asphalt was unmistakable. The girl stopped in stunned silence, right in front of her was a boy, while she found the source of the sound she also unfortunately found the reason for it. Chasing the guy was a woman, but not just any old human. She looked like some weird anthropomorphized cat with vicious claws to boot, if that didn't scream danger Haruna didn't know what would. The girl had no idea what to do, was this boy even in actual danger, or was this a performance piece? Perhaps by itself sure, but on top of everything else she just instinctively knew that the world wasn't the same anymore. Haruna made her mind up; to turn around and run, because nothing about this was normal. Not at all.

[Assistant]
Kazuo furiously drilled his feet into the concrete again and again in an ultimately futile attempt to stay ahead of the vicious catgirl, who hadn't fatigued a bit and still lingered behind Kazuo, occasionally taunting him with a cackle. Kazuo's entire body was hot, sweat was dripping from his brow, and his legs ached. As he charged through the crossing on the other side of the road, he tried to look both ways even though it didn't matter — after a few minutes of sprinting there had been no sign of cars or people. That is, until he made a hard right, hoping in vain that it might give him some kind of leverage against his pursuer.

Ahead of him was a girl about his age, who appeared to be wearing the same uniform. This didn't give Kazuo any sort of immediate relief, in fact, odds are this girl was some kind of accomplice to the creature behind him, or at the very least another foe. It wasn't until she also turned and started running that Kazuo felt that she might be considered normal, or at least as normal as a girl appearing in this strange world could be. He looked behind him to see how the cat would respond, and he was shocked to find that she was slowing to a halt.

"Two of them?" she observed out loud, suddenly becoming apprehensive. "I've never seen two appear this close together before ~nyan! Oh, what's a kitty to do?"

Kazuo didn't know how this would interfere with whatever plans she had, but he was happy to take advantage of the opportunity. Pumping his legs like never before, bag and bow clattering against him, he focused his efforts on trying to follow the girl and close the distance between them. He didn't quite know how to call out to her. There was a very strong possibility this was all some kind of feverish delusion on his part, and he had been running through the streets like a madman, chased only by his own mind. He looked behind him, and the catgirl was gone. His fatigue having caught up with him, Kazuo stopped to catch his breath. The usual aches and grievances of exhaustion beside, his head still pounded, and he felt himself becoming dizzy. He tried to steady himself on the nearby wall but missed and ended up collapsing to his knees, holding himself over the ground with his hands. His glasses fell, turning his vision into even more of a fog than it already was.

"Dammit," he wheezed. "What kind of illness is this? Am I going insane?"

[User]
In the next few minutes Haruna learned a few critical facts. One, that catwoman thing was definitely in fact hostile and it she wasn't it didn't give off that nice, friendly vibe. Two, the catwoman can talk. Three, the boy probably didn't know anymore about the situation than she did. The girl groaned and kept running until eventually that insane woman ceased chasing them... for whatever reason. At the time it didn't make sense, that monster would've caught them if it kept chase so why in the hell did it give up, or did it? Haruna leaned back trying to normalize her breathing, although that guy was certainly in worse shape than her. Also while the relatively light exercise didn't do any favors for her headache the pain remained bearable, which needless to say was good news for her.

Haruna glanced over to the stranger by her side, he looked surprisingly normal although when her eyes fell upon the holstered bow she honestly found that a bit suspicious. Sure that can be explained away with an archery club, just it didn't exactly sit completely well with her to know this man was technically armed. Otherwise judging by his uniform he had to a fellow student, maybe even a classmate if she were estimating his age correctly. Above all else she was a little glad that she wasn't completely alone in all this.

Now with her breathing back to normal rhythms Haruna stood straight up to look directly at the boy, one hand on her hip and the hanging at her side. "Guess I'm insane right along with you." She tried casually stating. "I'm gonna take a stab and say you're not stupid, or oblivious or anything, but that woman was not normal... God nothing is right now." She turned a hand towards the seemingly abandoned nearby city blocks. "No one, right? Not a single soul during what should be rush hour. Not to mention everything just feels... off, and I know you can tell the same, else I actually might be the only insane one here."

Haruna then sighed a shook her head. "Alright, yeah. You don't need to hear by ramblings, name's Nakano and I say we need to figure a way out of here... where ever 'here' is before Catwoman comes back for more."

[Assistant]
Kazuo glanced up while the girl was catching her breath, and felt a bit relieved that she decided to stay instead of keep running. Though, he couldn't help but wonder why. Wouldn't any normal schoolgirl have kept running after seeing a maniacal cosplayer chasing a high schooler? This was like something straight out of a bad anime.

As the girl spoke to him, Kazuo was still catching his breath. After commenting on their circumstances, verifying everything he had thought was strange since he left the house, she introduced herself as Nakano. The name sounded vaguely familiar. Perhaps he had heard someone talking about her, or maybe she was even in his class. Besides the usual group of girls who hounded him to style their hair and pick out products for them, he didn't really pay much attention to others in school.

Although he hadn't entirely recovered, he could at least pull himself off the ground. "Yokoyama." He began by returning the introduction. "And leaving here would be difficult, since I'm not sure where 'here' is. As far as we know, this is our city. Something's just . . . wrong. Regrettably, I have no idea why or how." He looked around, still wary of that catgirl. "I don't like being out in the open like this. We need to find somewhere safer. If we're assuming all the buildings are abandoned, then let's find a convenience store. If we're going to be here a while, we have to stock up on essentials first and foremost."

It also seemed like he would need a weapon — since he didn't have any arrows with him — but he didn't want to mention this to her. She seemed genuine, but with all this weirdness going on, he couldn't fully trust her. As for her appearance, it seemed natural, to put it one way. It didn't seem like she bothered with much, but even though it was understated, she definitely had some inherent good looks. Her attitude, though, was quite direct. All and all it was refreshing, compared to the shrieking, giggling mounds of make-up and posh he put up with.

[User]
Yokoyama... huh. To Haruna that name sounded eerily familiar, well given how they go to the same school she reasoned his name could've came up on one occasion or another. It wasn't like her to dwell on the same thought for long and quickly dropped the question, what mattered is she had a name. The girl shrugged then nodded. "Sure, not like I got any plans of my own, plus... yeah figuring since the world isn't working right then a little bit of looting can't hurt... probably." It sounded like work, but she wasn't dense; survival was something you put effort into, didn't change it was still a pain though.

Haruna took the lead, the sooner they can start making progress and finding some resources, the sooner they can be done with all this. The nearest commercial district, at least to her memory, was three to four blocks down. It would be a little bit of a walk, maybe it would've been better to double back home, although they couldn't forget about Catwoman. During the walk Haruna glanced back at her newly found partner a few times, one to make sure he wasn't about to bail out on her, but two to also size the guy up.

What first came to mind was "pretty boy" Yokoyama looked like he seriously cared about his appearance, which was all fine and well just... she couldn't understand why someone would put all that energy into looks especially for something trivial as school. Now that work seemed to have payed off, if nothing else he actually was damn good looking in her opinion, while not exactly her type she could bet he had to be popular back in school. When it came to anything else it was simply too soon to tell, just he lacked some athleticism and potentially was a member of the archery club. Good thing was she found him to be agreeable so far or else this experience could've been hell in yet another way.

Soon enough they arrived in the shopping district, well "they" providing Yokoyama didn't run off for whatever reason. Haruna walked right up to the nearest convenience store then slightly turned her head. "Well here we are, how do you want to do this? Run in and grab whatever we find first or be a little more tactical about it?" She then coughed in the direction of where they just came from. "After all I'm assuming a certain Catwoman hasn't given up on the hunt yet, meaning we might need to be quick about this. Also..." Haruna held up her schoolbag. "I doubt we can carry much with these, do you think they sell backpacks or something here? Even cheep ones?"

[Assistant]
After Nakano asked how they should approach this, Kazuo gave her a deadpan look. To him, there wasn't even anything to consider. "If this is truly a survival situation, then we have to be tactical about every move we make. Especially in cases of mortal danger." However, she was right about the likelihood they might be attacked again by that strange monster-woman. "But we can't be picky, either. Get whatever food you want. Quick things are best." His eyes fell on Nakano's schoolbag, and then his own. "We can keep an eye out for backpacks, too, though I'm not sure if a convenience store like this will have anything."

Feeling that any concerns had been sufficiently addressed, Kazuo started into the aisles. True to his word, he wasn't picky at all and only glanced at a wrapper for about a second before shoving it in his schoolbag. Mostly he stuck to junk food in bags. Not that he would ever eat the stuff normally, but this situation was far from normal. Even if he didn't necessarily like the food, he knew that its convenient packaging and long shelf life were well-suited for survival.

As he went down the aisles and gradually became more separated from Nakano, he began to feel a chill in his back. On the way to the store, he had kept looking around for any signs of life, wondering when — or if — things would go back to normal. He hoped this was some strange, unexplainable phenomenon that would pass quickly, but having seen nobody other than Nakano and the catgirl the whole morning, he was gradually becoming more assured that he wasn't overreacting or taking this too seriously. This could be a major problem — a life-or-death situation. The realization slowly crept up his back and around his neck like an icy embrace.

After reaching the back of the store, he found something that might be useful. "Miss Nakano, over here." He wasn't quite sure where they stood in terms of age or standing, and though she probably wouldn't care, he decided to be proper. "Are these what you had in mind for a bag?"

Kazuo had found a small shelf lined with cheap children's backpacks. Namely, there were only two: a garishly-blue Gundam backpack and an equally-obnoxious pink Hello Kitty backpack. They weren't much bigger than their schoolbags, but they could probably be handled much easier. "Which do you prefer?"