[System]
Age: Appears to be in her early twenties but a lady never tells.
Profession: Witch~
History: Born in the north, Clara hails from the wintry mountains. She is known for being a gifted sorceress, but there are also many rumors that she is a twisted and evil woman who gave her heart to a demon bear for power. These rumors couldn't be proven even if anyone had dared to do so.
Appearance:

[User]
Seeing he too was not sure where they were, she sighed through her nose for a moment. The area appeared to be quite peaceful and bountiful. The air was normal if not more pleasant to take in. Parts of her yearned to explore it. To roam about it and discover it's secrets. "Such an odd place." She mused then felt her hand twitch within his, which caused her to look back into his face. There were vague memories of him before she slept. His gentle hand moving her to fit nicely in his arms, then his warm but weary breath on her ear telling her to rest. This made her eyebrows raise and a grin spread over her mouth. Such kindness towards a stranger. Thinking back, she wondered how odd it would have been to see two strangers randomly meeting and agreeing to bond themselves in order to see the unknown. It seemed insane yet, she had done crazy things before.

 He asked her how well she slept and Clara chuckled, brushing hair out from her face with her free hand. "As well as one can after our ordeal." Her dreams were something she didn't like to share. Then again, she wasn't used to having someone by her side for this long. Companions for someone like her were in very short supply. Who would be interested in helping a sorceress with her so called 'reputation'. Much that was known of her didn't speak well. Her dark abilities and her place of residence were enough to scare off most. Clara's homeland was one of a cold and harsh climate which didn't entice many to come visit. The solitude was something she rather enjoyed, but of course a lady wouldn't mind the comfort of the palace. The title would be an interesting addition as well. She would also be granted access to materials that would otherwise be difficult to acquire on her own.

Her bright, but oddly solid looking eyes surveyed her companion. Though he seemed to be putting on a face of contentment, she wondered if he slept as she did. His eyes spoke differently. Though exotic and other-worldly, they showed that he was indeed fatigued. Alexander's unusual eyes had the look of fire before, but now seemed to have dimmed. "Did you not rest?" she asked while continuing to watch him with a grin. He must have been watching their surroundings while she was resting and for that, she was thankful. "Do wizards of the southern isles sleep at all?" Clara joked while scooting away from him a little more. She looked at their joined hands still feeling his and her auras pulsating in unison. Was it safe to separate now? They had accomplished the task by traveling through the wall, so the need for them to remain linked was no longer there. If Alexander had been awake this whole time, he could have separated from them as soon as they successfully crossed over, but he didn't. The grin widened slightly as she thought it out. Did he enjoy being so close to such a strange women as herself? This made her chuckle once again. "Shall we separate or should we remain like conjoined twins??" It was funny how she could joke like this while they both sat in a strange unknown land and had almost gotten annihilated.

[Assistant]
Smiling at her joke he responded, "No. You were tired, and someone had to keep watch. This place may appear to be a paradise, but at the very least, whomever put that dome in place may have come for us." Not that it would've mattered anyway. She had been exhausted and so had he. Even releasing his aura completely, Alexander knew the price for survival might've been too high. Thankfully nobody came. Alexander let go of her hand and leaned back so that he was lying on the ground. The soft grass muted the hard ground against his back and his exhaustion made it easy to ignore. "It felt right to hold on" to you. He didn't say that. Alexander wasn't ready to think about that part, instead he chalked it up to being part of the connection. It probably did help push him in her direction. "I don't suppose that it matters too much. Do you want to?" Letting go didn't seem to have any immediate effects. Close proximity combined with a strong connection...It would be a short while before the connection started to unravel, though he had delayed the effect.

His eyes were heavy and it was hard to pay attention to what she was saying. At this point Alexander wasn't sure she was talking at all. Still he stared at her as his eyelids dipped lower, trying not to ignore her. His hand he left outstretched and open, in case she decided to reconnect with him. It would be her decision. Sleep finally caught him and his head rolled gently to rest on the grass, soft against his cheek. Alexander hoped with his last waking thoughts for dreamless sleep. There was no need to dream of things that had long since passed.

The storm buffeted him and the buildings around him, stripping skin from his face and arms as it tore the walls off houses. But there he stayed, the last hope for thousands who could not flee. His aura did not protect him, as he used it all casting a spell. The great wizard was known for his ability to use runes together, in combinations longer and greater than ever before. As the storm threatened to tear him and his city apart he drew a rune on every building that housed a person with his mind. Aura fading, the great wizard lowered his arms and stood until he blew away in the wind, dust to dust.

It had been a long time since he had dreamed of his teacher. But lately his thoughts had strayed more and more to the man that had taught him the basics of magic, before becoming one of the greats. Alexander had followed in those footsteps, though he had done it in a way his teacher would not have approved. Now he used a magic that was his alone in order to hide what he had done. There was no reason to use large amounts of power when complicated magic could take it's place. Unlike the other Wizards of the Southern Isles, Alexander did not take on many jobs. He took only the jobs that required both incredible detail and power. He substituted power for time and magical research. Geomancy gave him this ability.

He opened his eyes slowly, wondering how it could be true. The boy Alexander would not let him free so easily. Senses coming to him, and suddenly he knew. It wasn't time, they weren't ready. Stronger than before, but not enough to defeat him. Alexander must have made a mistake. He sat up slowly, feeling this body and enjoying it. Truly enjoying it. His aura was weak, sealed away and there was no way to undo it now. Something else. Turning his head towards her he grinned broadly. They had connected, though it didn't feel permanent. How interesting. Was she important to him? The eyes that were once demonic and catlike in appearance now seemed normal, though the bright yellow iris' that betrayed both his presence and his power were the only thing that gave him away. Nobody would recognize his sign anymore anyway. It had been too long.

"It is always nice to have a beautiful companion. I hope you don't mind me asking your name, Alexander doesn't really play well with others."

[User]
Feeling the warmth of his hand leaving hers, she watched him lay down and rest. Many wizards disliked sleep. Some believed that it made them vulnerable in a spiritual since. Others with a more obvious mind set worried that they left their bodies open for attack. Even Clara was not fond of resting unless she had prepared some form of defense. Her golden eyes went over Alexander's resting body several times. The hand that held hers for what seemed like ages lie palm up towards her. It looked like such an innocent gesture, but Clara didn't take his hand again. Instead she continued to look around him. It was odd to see such a powerful wizard sleeping like he was, but it also showed he was human. This was a relief to her. It was always easier to believe that those of power were indestructible beings incapable of doing wrong. Seeing them vulnerable helped banish those idiotic ideas.

Clara winced feeling a stinging sensation in her other hand. Her palm was bleeding again. She looked down to see it had scabbed over some but moving it caused the wound to open. Sighing through her nose she studied the scabs curiously. Healing magic wasn't her strong suit and her energy was too low to even attempt it. Instead, she chose to wrap it by tearing part of her clothes. For the journey to the barrier, Clara had worn a travel tunic that reached down to the mid thigh and under that some travel pants and boots. Her tunic once had sleeves, but she quickly removed them after suffering the heat of the southern climate. She ripped part of the end of her tunic and began to cover her hand that best she could. Thankfully the wound was a small one. Many animals had an excellent sense of smell, thus a bleeding wound would easily make someone a target for hungry beasts.

While she was crudely dressing her small wound, she was humming the same song she used as a mantra for concentration. It was a simple melody and held some importance to her. "old as old" She sang softly while finishing up her work. Then she saw Alexander move. Something, maybe her connection with him, or her gut told her something was different. Hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she stared at him looking almost like a spooked animal watching whatever disturbed them. He spoke to her. Her eyes went over him several times. There was one physical difference to Alexander, and that was his eyes. He asked her name. Curiosity boiled up within her causing her to smirk and tilt her head slightly at him. This was an interesting twist. What secret had just been revealed to her?
"Thank you.." She breathed smiling pleasantly. "Didn't he tell you my name? Or do you two not exchange in conversation often?" It wasn't often that someone was greeted by some one they've met before like they haven't met before. Did something else reside within Alexander? Or, was he broken like many witch or wizard who dabbled too closely with a maddening substance. It was anyone's guess at this point and that made it all the more exciting.

[Assistant]
"A smart companion. How nice. It is refreshing to see young people finding companions with personality and not just using them for their body." At this he looked her over pointedly, suggesting that she was Alexander's lover. "Alexander did not deign to tell me your name, since he refuses to talk to me at all. It's rather rude of him. But then, I cannot say I blame him. Ever since our last arguement he slammed that door shut, you could say." He could feel her aura, weak like his. That boy Alexander could have used more power. Should have. Now he left them both vulnerable. Sometimes being too cautious had it's price. He pushed a compulsion through their connection. It wasn't strong. He didn't think it would have to be. With her aura being weak and the connection allowing him to bypass natural defenses the compulsion should come on strong. It would probably work. The biggest problem is that it only encouraged her to do things she already wanted to do. That meant that if she didn't like being close to Alexander she wouldn't get close...if she did it might help push her closer. This would be good for him. For now he had it disguised as a desire for Alexander to return to this body. Simple enough. It would cut his time short though.

Alexander felt it. A small pull. The water felt nice. It would be good to go to sleep here and let his head soak...He laughed in this dream. Alexander would not fall for this. Standing up in the pool he looked over at the shore. A person stood there. She was beautiful. Powerful. But she was not complete. He could not entice Alexander with a woman whose name he didn't know. But if that man could learn her name Alexander would have a much harder time leaving. Or so he thought. Alexander shook his head, not wanting to find out either way. He had to leave. Find his way back up to the surface while the other was still weak and seal him away.

"It's fine. You can tell me your name the next time we meet." He looked her in the eyes, his yellow eyes flashing like lightning. This was a promise to her. They would meet again, and when they did he expected her to tell him his name. Hopefully he could see her at full strength when that time came. Having a lover is nice, but having a powerful lover made everything better. He moved closer to her, attempting to sit next to her. "Until then, darling."

Alexander's eyes changed back to the demonic slits that they normally were as electricity danced up and down his body for a few seconds. The other had relinquished control willingly. That was bad, but all he could do was break this connection with her and seal him completely. His only answer. Then Alexander realized that he was sitting close to her. Earlier she had moved away from him. Somehow he doubted she moved closer. What had he said to her? Did he tell her the truth? No. He wouldn't. How did he try to manipulate her, get her to tell him her name? Somehow Alexander didn't think she said anything. For now he would let her speak first, rather than cause himself more trouble.

[User]
Hearing the other insinuate that she was a sexual play thing made her laugh. This assumption was not uncommon to her. She was nice to look upon, which could either lead people to do foolish things or it could lead people to assume she was some sort of evil fleshy sorceress. Either way, it didn't matter to her. If someone where to fall for her looks and do something foolish that was their decision. If someone was to write her off as some beautiful demoness that should be avoided, that was good as well. It would leave her with less annoying people to deal with.
Alexander obviously didn't like communicating with his other. There had to be a reason for this. Such an interesting puzzle. Was it worth solving? Usually, Clara didn't like peering into the personal lived of others. This was simply because she did not like that sort of treatment from others, but she very rarely had people nosing into her business.

The other moved closer to her, but she didn't move away. She didn't have any energy to repel him with magic at the moment which meant if things got bad she would have to resort to a physical retaliation. The others eyes looked into her golden ones and she continued to smirk at him. If he wanted her dead, she would be. He wanted something else. This curious behavior. Was this how demons worked? She read about demons getting what they wanted through trickery and manipulation. This would also explain Alexander's peculiar eyes.

Alexander's body sparked with little jolts of energy then his eyes returned to their usual demonic appearance. He seemed shocked at his upright position. Clara continued to smile at him trying not to sound amused at his confusion. The whole situation left her with wild curiosity coursing through her mind. Should she pry? Will he tell her? Why would he? She is a stranger. Just a travel companion. Then again, they both almost died earlier. Perhaps that would be enough for someone to feel comfortable with divulging secrets. She thought about the situation in reverse for a moment. Would she tell him her secrets even after what they have been through? Probably not. There was a silence that seemed to last for quite some time before Clara spoke. "You called me darling." She chuckled unable to contain her amusement.


[System]
Abstract: The quiet, roof-hopping delivery girl.

Detail:
Meryn is a twig of a girl. Short, thin, and physically unimpressive in almost every way, people can often mistake her for a young boy, rather than a full-grown woman. She has sandy brown skin, long, straight black hair that she often keeps in a braid, and pale green eyes. Meryn also wears a small wooden pin with her name engraved on it, stuck to her jacket.

She was born without the ability to speak, but she rarely has any trouble getting her point across. Though she carries herself with a subtle confidence, she's acutely aware of what she is and isn't capable of, and is constantly trying to push that boundary. Independent, fearless, and just a little bit spiteful, telling her she can't or shouldn't do something is usually the quickest way to get her to do it. Although she seems aloof and closed off, Meryn is more soft-hearted than she first appears. If someone comes to her asking for help, she can't help but comply – even if she does roll her eyes and drag her feet along the way. It's easy for her heart to override her head, and her naivety can sometimes get her into trouble.

Though she grew up as a street urchin, and was generally looked down on by the majority of society in the first few years of her life, it wasn't long until she discovered a hidden talent: if she wanted to get somewhere, there was very little that could stand in her way. She could scale walls, leap from rooftop to rooftop, slip between bars. Soon enough, the entire town became one big playground to her. Eventually, the townspeople recognized her skill at getting from one point to another quicker than anyone should rightly be able to, and she began delivering notes and parcels for change. Today, Meryn is the most trusted delivery system in town for all sorts of letters and goods (that aren't too big for her to carry). When she's not swinging around the town like a monkey, she enjoys all sorts of music, and has recently started picking up different instruments from her customers and experimenting, with varying degrees of success.

[User]
Lily's numb fingers took the sheath automatically, staring at the man who had been their guide for not even days—yet the idea of continuing on without him felt impossible. She hadn't thought about it until now, but even when the forest came alive against them, even when a demon beast was clawing its way out of their nightmares, there had been one last, illogical thought that Spook would know what to do.

Maybe he did know what he was doing now, but Lily sure as hell didn't.

He'd handed her a sword and pointed her towards her sister, who may or may not be in danger. People didn't do things like that; not for people like her. And she was going to repay him by leaving him to die alone on a barren field with disease eating him from the inside out. For a long moment, she considered drawing the weapon in her hands and staying with him, because fuck if she ever did what people told her to—but, as it did so often, reality set in.

People died. Trying to stop it would just make you one of them; she'd learned that lesson time and time again.

"You'd best come back for this soon," Lily said, unable to keep all the strain from her voice. She squeezed Spook's hand for a moment before securing her grip on the sword, holding it tightly to her chest—it would take more than a jumped-up twig sprite to take it from her now. "I could get a pretty penny for this at a smith's shop, and then where will you be? Out a good sword, that's where."

She hesitated for another long moment, her hands white at the knuckles, before she lifted her chin and turned on her heel without another word. Lily didn't look back as she broke into a jog towards the city in the wake of the trundling mech.

Gods, he deserves better.

[Assistant]
Meryn's smile was small and unsteady as Lily spoke soothing nonsense to her. Reaching up, she grabbed the offered cloth and pressed it to the side that'd started bleeding again. She eventually bent to pick up her bag, though she left her jacket untouched on the ground. Her nametag was still pinned to her undershirt.

A hand was suddenly curled around her skinny wrist in an iron grip, and Meryn jumped to attention. Spook's face was bare, crystals on display to the world as grey eyes found green. The weight of his stare stopped the breath in her throat. A mask was pushed into her hand. His mask. Meryn's eyes widened as realization dawned on her, and her gaze darted from the mask back to Spook. But then he broke contact, releasing her, and the moment was gone. But not the new weight in her hand, or in her throat.

She watched as Spook moved on to the other two, giving each their own parting gifts. It became difficult to swallow. Her eyes began to sting. Her head started to shake in denial, lips parting. More voices were coming from the robot, doling out clipped instructions, but Meryn wasn't listening. She was watching their guide push himself to his feet and turn to face the forest, as though he alone could keep the nightmares at bay. As though he could survive them.

Maybe he could.

Clinging to that small, frightened hope, Meryn watched Lily and Emma both tear themselves away, following after the robot towards the town. Meryn looked down at the mask she'd taken as his identity, eyebrows furrowed together. He was trusting her with his mask. Maybe she could trust him with this. Meryn bit her lip, and turned to look at him one last time, his figure small but solid against the shuddering tree line.

Meryn forced herself to look away and dashed to catch up with her two remaining companions.

[User]
Spook saw them off -- nodded to each one as they said their goodbyes and rushed after the robot that would lead them to safety -- and he turned to face the teeming forest.

The disease -- the Crystalline -- was spreading fast among the wood demons. It drove them crazy, filled them with rage and bloodlust. They swarmed like piranhas at the edge of the forest, screeching and clawing and mangled by dark crystals. Their eyes glowed bright and red. The death of the infected felidrake had spawned the very terror that Spook had been trying to prevent.

All around the expansive perimeter of the wasteland, the demons gathered and screamed: hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. The air was filled with their shrieks.

Spook grinned up at them. The dark crystals crept over his face and tendriled down his arms. He dropped to his knees and, with a knife, began to carve an enormous sigil into the dry ashen ground.

---

A blaring alarm sounded from within the metallic walls, and a voice echoed threatening:

ANNIHILATION. DESTROY INCOMING LIFE FORMS ON SIGHT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. ANNIHILATION.

With a hurried hiss and a creak, the trundling robot led Lily, Meryn and Emma around the ominous mechanical gates and into a small open side-door. The inside was bare and dark and smelled like oil and smoke; a boiler glowed hot at the far side of the stone room, and pipes hissed along the ceiling.

The robot raced directly toward the back of the room -- but as soon as Emma entered, a guard pointed a bayonet at her chest and led her to an empty side of the hot stone room. "State your name and your business," he demanded harshly, with an undertone of fear. They could hear the howling alarms and the rumbling voice on the speakers within the city. "Are you carrying any weapons?"

Lily was next, and a second guard separated her from Emma at the point of a bayonet, leading her to the opposite side of the room under threat of impalement. "Put the sword down and state your name," the guard growled. "Drop all your weapons. Don't think we believe for a second that you're here for 'safe harbor' -- not when you've brought hell down on us. Why shouldn't we just shoot you?"

Meryn was the last to enter, and the door slammed shut as soon as she'd crossed the threshold. A third guard had been waiting by the door, and shoved her forward into the room toward the boiler. "Please state your name and your business," the guard commanded with a tremble of fear. His musket was pointed steadily at her chest. He gave her a moment, and then raised his voice. "TALK. State your name and your business! This isn't a joke!"

Lily's guard glanced across at his comrade. "Just shoot her if she won't cooperate."

Outside, on the other side of the door they had just come through, the screeching of the infected demons rose to a piercing pitch. Across the opposite door by the boiler, which led into the city, alarms blared and crowds roared and guns popped.

---

From Ronken's vantage point, he had a front-row view of the swelling angry crowds of dirty workmen and half-crazed addicts and violent gangsters looking for something to kill. The uniformed guards crossed their bayonets and held the citizens back from the door in the wall, where the travelers were being interrogated before they might be let into the city. The people of Cogswall demanded to know what was happening, where the threat was, who these people were -- they called for the travelers to be shot, while some groups screamed that they should be let through for safety, while still others were shoving everyone else in hopes of causing a riot against the government. Some of the guards fired their muskets into the air, but it did little but antagonize the throngs of people.

A huge brassy automaton whirred and creaked as it stepped through the parting crowd; it towered over them, and its driver at its head paid them no attention. The clockwork mecha grasped the edge of the wall and -- with a yank of a few levers and wheels by its goggled driver -- hauled itself up and over the wall.

While the city roiled and boomed, Ronken would feel a tap on his shoulder. Someone slightly shorter than himself -- robed and hidden in a deep hood -- spoke in a grinning, feminine voice: "You look like somebody who doesn't give a shit 'bout what the hell's goin' on. I like you."

She produced a small bag of newly minted gold coins, which she held out to him with a delicate brown hand. With the other hand, she extended to him a sealed envelope.

"Tellya what. There's one of those Travelers in there with a brass mask. I'll pay you double to deliver a message."

[Assistant]
What's going on?

The day was going by fairly normally for Scarlet as he went about his business through the marketplace. Those who owned their own buildings knew not to let him inside and anyone who owned a stall all watched him with cautious stares a tight grip on a club or weapon just in case. Scarlet has been known to attack those who got in his way after all. Just as he was chatting up a beady eyed man running a potentially illegitimate business in "borrowed" goods the skies suddenly began to shriek and wail as the sirens were brought to life. Everyone, Scarlet included, jumped at the sudden blaring with each person having similar reactions. Confusion, fear, panic, and curiosity. Something was going on at the front entrance and the streets were rapidly emptying as people either fled to their homes or ran to the front entrance where all the commotion seemed to stem from. Scarlet was no fool he knew that this was the absolute perfect chance to score big time. Immediately he began to rush down the streets eyes filled with curiosity and greed.

_______________________________

Everything was loud. The sirens were loud. The people were loud, and the occasional gunshots didn't help either. All in all coming to the source of the noise was probably going to leave him with a massive headache. How could Scarlet have resisted, though? Already he has lined his pockets with a fistful of change courtesy of all those who decided it was far more important to pay attention to the Travelers that were currently hidden away than to their own pockets. The bag that hung around his neck jingled happily as Scarlet wove through the crowd. The nice thing about being a vagrant was that either people ignored you or plainly don't notice your existence at all. Only those who were looking for him in the first place would see him. Someone like a guard standing nearly six feet tall armed with a bayoneted musket rifle. Which was exactly what Scarlet ran face first into as he breached the front of the crowd. Knocked right onto his behind Scarlet stared up at the metal blade that was now pointed directly at his face.

"You lil' shitbag you give me that stolen coin this instant before I put a shot right in yer head. Don't think I didn't see ya either. Filth the whole lot of you. I ought to shoot you right here regardless. It'd be my civic duty it would. I could say you tried to rush that there door."

Scarlet stared cross-eyed at the tip of the sharp bayonet as it hung before him almost as though it were a guillotine hanging above his head. Sweat beaded down his face as he contemplated everything he has done in life as it seemed to be reaching its end. This act by the guard wasn't going unnoticed as the people closest around him had begun vehemently cursing and insulting the man for raising a weapon against a child. A child, mind you, that may or may not have previously swiped the coin from their pocket not minutes earlier. What they didn't know wouldn't kill them Scarlet thought to himself as he used the distraction of the shouting crowd to slap the musket to the side. Instantly he got onto all fours and charged into the knees of the guard as hard as he could toppling him to the ground. Scarlet rolled past the collapsed guard and immediately froze as several muskets were now aimed at him.

"Get away from the door this instant!"

A guard kept shouting this order at him but it seemed as though all sound had stopped working in Scarlet's ears. Behind him stood the doors and behind those stood the Travelers and in front of him stood death with naught but a wall of noise and flesh behind it.

Oh God please somebody help.

[User]
Meryn stumbled towards the boiler, a cacophony of sound filling the room. Screeching, blaring, piercing noise that was doing nothing for her nerves. Tripping to a stop before the glowing boiler, feeling the heat radiating off it in waves, Meryn spun around to face the gun pointed at her chest. Her eyes darted around, already trying to map routes out of this situation.

Then her guard, more frightened than she was, demanded she speak.

Her eyes widened. Meryn's gaze snapped across the room to Lily and Emma. When Lily's guard, the one in charge by the looks of it, suggested she just be shot, her breath stopped in her throat. Meryn looked back at her trembling guard. She raised her hands slowly, one palm open and splattered crimson, the other holding Spook's mask. Bringing her free hand to her throat, she tapped it a few times and shook her head. As she did this, she carefully leaned forward just a bit. Her weight shifted to the balls of her feet, her knees slightly bent. Just in case.

Meryn brought her hand down and pointed to her nametag, still pinned to her shirt. She parted her lips and tried to mimic the shapes mouths made when they said her name.


[System]
Nickname: N/A
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Background: Petra was born in the most eastern point of Czechoslovakia, in 1983. When the Berlin wall was knocked down and the USSR dissolved, her family moved to America. Being new immigrants that spoke little English, they did not have the most luxurious life. Up until the time that Petra moved out, she and her family lived in a crummy apartment with cracks in the wall and flickering lights. When Petra was still in high school, her brother had graduated. Not having the money for college, he got involved in a gang. By the time Petra had graduated, her brother had gotten her involved with it as well and they were working together. However, some years later, during a deal gone bad, Petra's brother was killed. This prompted her to give up the lifestyle and lead a straight life. She used the money she had made to move to a different part of the city and finally enroll in college at the age of 26. Since graduation, she had been working as a cook and living alone in her apartment. This is the life she had during the outbreak.
Age: 35
Height: 5'7
Body Type: Average
Hair: Blonde
Eye Color: Blue
Personality: Being from Eastern Europe, Petra is naturally on the colder side. Smiles are a rare commodity and laughs are even rarer. She speaks only when she feels it's necessary and has little patience for nonsense. Her temper is somewhere in the middle; she knows not to snap over petty things but will not let others walk all over her and will not tolerate people wasting her time. She is rough around the edges and will not lie for your benefit. She will call things as she sees them. She is usually independant and will not ask for help unless she truly needs it. Another thing she takes from growing up in the Soviet Union is her communistic views. These will be prominent when in a group setting.
Unique Abilities: trilingual (Czech, German, and English), cooking skills, street experience, and negotiation skills.
Knowledge of Combat: while Petra was involved in street life, she did little fighting herself. That was up to the men and she was smart enough to avoid such confrontations. She has basic knowledge of guns as her gang dealt them and she knows how to properly wield blunt trama weapons. Despite this knowledge, she is not extremely experienced with it, but can hold her own at least for a little while.
Weapons: Fire axe and pocket knife
Equipment: backpack containing: bag of crackers, canteen of water, three cans of soup, some medical supplies, a dead phone, wallet, and a change of clothes.
Conditions: her English isn't exactly up to par and despite being in the country for twenty eight years, she still mixes her words up sometimes. This is mostly due to the fact that her family is still spoke Czech at home and she would only have to use her English when outside of her house. Can also be a little hard to understand.

[User]
With both him and Petra pushing on the door the corpse was pushed out of the way. Hunter shut the door soon after, he wasn't ready to run out into a fight just yet. But it was time to get ready. Hunter turned and faced Petra. "You know how to shoot a handgun? It's a lot harder then a rifle or shotgun but I don't have much else to spare." Hunter figured he could trust this person for now, plus there was only 6 bullets in the gun, and 8 in the shotgun, if the person was smart they would wait until they were back at his camp for his supplies.

"We are going to have to run pretty fast. We should be able to avoid most the infected as long as we are fast and quiet. If not only shoot if you have too, If you run and shoot you will miss and waste you bullet, you have only 6 shots and I don't have spares. SO be smart, once inside the Pharmacy we can lock the door behind us or barricade it then secure the main room. We may not find much but even something for my migraine would be nice." He went to the door to get an idea of the situation.

[Assistant]
After the corpse had been moved out of the way, the two stood away from the door. Petra took a step back from Hunter as she listened to him speak. She hadn't really been out on the streets but she was sure she could handle whatever they were about to encounter. She had scavenged through the apartment building a handfull of times and had to deal with numerous walkers and unfriendly survivors. However, she knew this was still going to be a challenge.

Petra almost chuckled when Hunter asked her if she knew how to use a hand gun. She remembered back to when she was involved with her brother's gang and firearm distribution was practically part of her job description. When she had moved and pursued a more wholesome source of income, she refused to own a gun of any kind. If she knew that the apocalypse was going to happen any time soon, she might have reconsidered that decision. Of course she knew how to shoot a hand gun. But to Hunter, she probably looked like a helpless little girl, despite the fact that she was most likely older than him. It didn't bother her much though - she had bigger problems than what others thought about her. And she understood the stereotype.

"Alright. Let's get going then," Petra said. She had little to input at this time and she had no reason to question Hunter about his authenticity. She could tell by his demeanor that he had no intent of wrong doing towards her. He was just a man with a migraine. And a lot of guns.

[User]
Seven shots, that's all he had in the shotgun. When he opened that door he knew the one thing he couldn't do was stop, stopping in the street here would get him killed. He opened the door and Ran! "Move, Move Move!" he took off like there was no tomorrow, Probably because if he did they would die.

He stopped once to clear a couple infected in front of him using the shotgun. He didn't have time to hit them with the stock but he did have enough time to shoot them both then keep running. He could tell by how Petra was holding the .38 she knew how to use it, Which was good, the only experience that Hunter had with a pistol was over the last few months of close range target practice in bad moments. The shotgun he could handle, Never really got the handgun down.

he made it across the street into the Pharmacy and did a fast scan not seeing any immediate infected he closed one of the two front doors and shouted to Petra. "Hurry in hurry in!" he took aim with the shotgun and fired at the closest infect, Down to four shots. *Please don't run out, please don't run out* was all he was thinking, Why didn't he bring more ammo with him?! Then it hit him... he hasn't been far enough a way from his base camp to worry about that kind of thing. He fired another shot at the closest infected.

[Assistant]
Turning around at the voice, Tony was already drawing a bead on the figure before relaxing. He turned to the boy behind him, who looked spooked enough to be on the verge of running up the fire escape. Turning back to the man Tony said back, "Come closer slowly with your hands behind your head." Tony kept the gun on the man, and began sizing him up.

He didn't look like much, a thickly bundled man carrying a rifle peeking out behind the wall. "If worst comes to worst, I think I have the advantage here," Anthony thought grimly as he set his face into a stone.

[User]
Bobby was finally seeming to regain his composure from his short emotional breakdown; and at just the right time, it seemed:

"Excuse me, my name is Spence. I am unarmed, please do not shoot."

Almost immediately, Tony sprung from his seated position, huddling against the wall as if ready to strike. Bobby was spooked, but more from Tony's sudden reaction than the voice of the stranger. Bobby peeked around the corner over Tony's side to get a look himself... and the guy certainly didn't seem like a threat, considering his weapons were placed on the ground and his hands were already held high.

Bobby tugged on Tony's shirt, "Tony, I don't think you have to be twitchy about him. I can see his eyes. He isn't lost like the rest of the Overgrounders."

[Assistant]
Petra moved as fast as she could, holding the hand gun at the ready while her mind kept reminding her to reach for the axe on her belt. It didn't help that she usually was armed with the axe while she was running, not having it dangle off of her belt. Just as she had predicted it would, the extra weight slowed her down and she was quite a few paces behind Hunter. He had already fired off the shotgun a fair amount of times, she didn't want to fire off the hand gun to attract anymore attention. Whatever walkers got in her way got pistol whipped to the ground. Petra didn't exactly care about killing them at this point - just getting them out of her way.

Seeing that Hunter had already gotten into the pharmacy and was now waiting for her, Petra sprinted the rest of the way, her free hand holding the axe still, so it wouldn't tug on her belt.

"Close the door!" she exclaimed once she had gotten into the pharmacy, bending over to catch her breath. But there wasn't time to rest. Their rather boisterous entry had summoned the walkers that had been hiding in the back of the pharmacy. Nodding to Hunter, Petra advanced towards them. She had stuffed the hand gun in her jacket pocket for now and wielded the axe. She needed time to get reacquainted with it and the axe was better suited for a silent, close quartered brawl.

There were three walkers that Petra readily spotted. She acted fast with her axe, swinging it at the sides of their heads. Groaning from the back of the pharmacy told the two survivors that there were more than just the three walkers.

[User] After Petra got in Hunter shut the doors and looked for something to block them with. He grabbed the shelf next tot he door and tipped it over putting yet another Obstacle between the two of them and the dead. Hunter noticed Petra fighting off the dead, he was low on bullets and figured he had fired off the gun enough for now, so he grabbed his hatchet and helped Petra clear out the infected in the back. After they were cleared out he locked the back door an sighed. He went around grabbing anything and everything he could find of use from the Pharmacy. After making a Fast sweep he turned to Petra. "Good fighting, lot better then mine. Where did you learn to fight?"

[Assistant]
@SwarthyBard126

 "Come closer slowly with your hands behind your head."
When Spence heard that he wondered if he maybe took too much of a chance with approaching these two. But he did what the man said hoping they would see that he was unarmed and not a threat. When he got closer to them he stood there for a second he noticed the kid didn't seem to be as nervous about him as the man did.

 "I just heard voices, I assure you I mean no harm. My apartment just about got overrun this morning. Luckily I escaped with the underground garage that connects a few neighboring apartment buildings. I ran as fast and as far away as I could, so here I am." He said hoping not to get shot.

[User]
After they had taken care of the walkers in the back of the pharmacy, Petra helped Hunter with going through the shelves and collecting whatever they could use. While it was clear that the pharmacy had already been raided, she did manage to find some useful medicine and medical aid should anything happen. It felt strange to be on the ground, off the rooftop and out of the apartment buidling. When Petra had left the rooftop that morning, she knew it would be her last time scavenging the building but not her last time on the rooftop. It had served her well but it was time to move on.

As she went through the shelves alongside Hunter, she almost grinned at his comment. It had been a long time since she had smiled. And even longer since she had allowed herself to laugh.

She didn't see herself as a better fighter than Hunter, she just figured he was shocked to see that a close to middle age woman could handle herself in such a way. "In another life," she told him, when he asked about where she had learned to fight. Bringing up anything from her life before the outbreak was pointless. All those who had been a part of it were most likely dead, or wandering mindlessly and growling at their shadow. "What about you? Not too many people can handle a hatchet like that," she told Hunter. Petra was not exactly a social butterfly, and her self consciousness regarding her accent was a barrier. But she knew, in order to gain the trust of others, she needed to attempt to be friendly and not reclusive as she had always been.

[Assistant] Hunter looked at the hatchet and smiled. "This thing? I had a lot of practice. I found the shotgun here about 3 weeks into this mess in one of the apartments. My truck though already had some tools in it, so it was a choice between this, a hammer, or some screw drivers. Hatchet seemed more badass. So I practiced and got decent." He finished packing his bag. "If you want the gun feel free to keep it, I have another one back at my place. Which reminds me you need a safe place? My floor is completely clear." Hunter was in need of people he could trust, He had met only a few people who haven't tried to kill him since this started. All dead now. He walked behind the counter, sometimes they had neat things there. "I have a mix of everything. Weapons, food, water, Even some junk food, everyone was so busy looting the canned goods they left behind the treats. Sure you get sick of them after eating them for a week but give it another week and you will be fine." He looked at the bag of medicine. "Well everything except meds, unless you have arthritis, then I have you covered. Prescription and all."

[User]
Petra waited for a chance to get her response in, not having much time to speak before Hunter would start talking again. He was talkative - didn't particularly have anything of too much importance to say but spoke his mind, whatever thoughts were passing through it. It wasn't too often that you came across that these days. Perhaps it was from the lack of companion. Petra wasn't sure if Hunter's talkativeness was going to grow on her or nag at her. She was just thankful she didn't have to say to much.

It was ironic that he had asked her for a safe place to stay. Because that was just what she was looking for.

"I am looking for a camp. I was on the rooftop for the last few weeks, but I had to move on," Petra said slowly. She loaded some more medicine and supplies into her bag before zipping it up and turned to Hunter with a definitive look.


[System]
Gender:
 Female
 Appearance:
 Rather short for perhaps what one thinks of when they think 'Goddess' standing at a fairly short 4'4, Yana has dusky, dark skin with eyes colored like the brightest emeralds. While some other Gods possess human traits, her domain and overall abilities have given her a somewhat unique more animalistic appearance. Black furry ears, and four rather lively tails with seeming minds of their own, able to move and twist about like serpents ready to devour any sinner in their vicinity.
 Personality:
 A wild, feral goddess of Hunting and Judgement who behaves as severe as one may expect a god of these divinities may behave. She inherently believes there is a strict morality and righteousness to the world, and any breaker of that morality is subject to divine judgement from herself. She will uphold this justice and punish evildoers with all the ferocity of a wild beast, sparing little for their pleas of mercy or repentance. Once judgement has been called, it can not be stopped. This of course, doesn't mean she's a mindless bringer of justice. She has just as much cunning and care as a beast might that is stalking prey. She knows when best to engage, and knows that most times, things do not require such extreme measures.

 She carries herself with all the dignity and grace that a wild beast might. Graceful, respectful but brutal and ferocious without taking insults or slights to her name without causing unneeded cruelty. Some would say this is arrogance on her part, and indeed, perhaps there is a little bit of that, but she is strong, and that is not something she should simply ignore.

 Her opinion on humans are simple - incredibly weak...but worth protecting. She loves nothing more than to simply watch them, go about their mundane lives, but finds it difficult to completely interact with them outside of business. She spent a week thinking of how to simply say hi to someone once. She's not using her aloof arrogance to hide shyness, definitely not.
 Domain:
 Hunting and Judgement
 Abilities:
 As she is a Goddess of Judgement, Yana possess abilities that instill order and rebuke those who commit sin and evil. There shall be no lies in her presence that can not be revealed, no deception that she doesn't sense, and no sin or evil creatures in her presence. This also puts her into a direct conflict with demons and other foul, abominable creatures born of whatever evil infects the world - they will be eradicated with all the righteous, feral fury she possesses. She can also purify such evil, even non-physical evil such as curses or lingering malignancy, though it may take some time if she can no directly devour it with her tails. That is to say, when facing such creatures her very nature rebukes them and they will cower and be weakened in her presence.

 Of course, this is just one half of her divine authority - the other being that of Hunts. Like a feral beast stalking its prey through the forest, she too, stalks evil and will devour it completely. This gives her a surprisingly stout and agile physicality, likely second only to some gods who domains solely focus on fighting or warfare. As well as skilled with a number of weapons and near preternatural senses for the hunt, such when something is dangerous, or when to avoid something how to stay and move unseen, how to move quietly without making a noise. Just like laws of man, she too also upholds fairness and law in the wild and once upon a time, lived as such within the forests of her old jungle domain.

 These two domains combine in a rather terrifyingly potent combination for sinners and those she 'Marks' as those judged to be evil. Anyone deemed as such, will find her relentlessly pursuing them until they are devoured by her tails. Once she gets even a single whiff of their scent, there shall be no recourse but to run for eternity or stand and bravely face your end. The ultimate expression of this power was being able to take the form of a massive, black hound stalking the land and devouring evil whole.

 Unfortunately, many of these abilities of evil-busting and hunting have become completely ineffective. Even her ability to sense and purify it has dwindled to that of normal human senses. All she has currently is her physical body, and manipulate her tails to fight and judge evil with. Don't be fooled though, the tails are basically four extra appendages. Four extra appendages with sharp teeth, ability to grow, elongate, and devour anything they get their mouths on and swallow it whole.

 Brief Backstory:
 A goddess once worshiped by those in areas perhaps less civilized, primarily in both a desert and tropical jungle regions and those who perhaps, sought justice and retribution against others outside of normal systems. After all, the human systems may be fallible, but a goddess judgement? Flawless. Perfect. Not a single one could argue. Even so, she was well known and widely at one point in those regions to be the purveyor of justice, hunters of evil, and the Goddess one should prey to for fruitful hunts.

 With a sword that vanquished demons and sinners, and tails that purified curses and evil, she stalked the sands and jungle, doling out punishments and stalking any demon that so dared to tread upon the earth.

 Yet, like all Gods that day, she met her end. How absurd, she thought. How pathetic. She doesn't remember what it was, of course. No one does...but she does know, that whatever it was, she'd have stood against it with fangs bared and gave it a good wallop before passing. What else is there to say? Surely you don't want to hear about the hunts.

[User]
Aureia, of gold, commerce, wealth,and the far less important, trivial aspects of travel and luck

The door at the top of the staircase was a very sturdy looking barrier. The fact that it had been dented meant that whatever the mortals were using to try and breach it was a very powerful weapon, indeed. More intriguing, though, was the way the doors slid open as she approached it, but even that became of little interest compared to what the open door revealed.

Like the mortals before her, Aureia had to take a pause to take in the enormity of the scene in front of her. Her eyes narrowed as she observed the blood and gore, the number of dead and living, and their equipment. It seemed, even ten thousand years later, there would always be armor and swords, however unusual. The strange tube-like devices in their hands were another thing entirely, though. They had been shooting volleys at the door—where were the siege engines that could do damage to such a strong door? It was entirely possible that what they wielded were strange staves, and they had been firing volleys of spells at the door, though if that were the case, then she must be very weak indeed, if she couldn't detect the magic.

Her eyes drifted to the carnage on the ground. A lopsided battle and a heroic stand had occurred here. In the past, the knowledge of such parties would have been trivial to her, but here, she only had her eyes to work with—who are these two parties of mortals, and more importantly, which group was affiliated with the priestess or had otherwise summoned the gods? By color palette alone, she had to assume the white-clad priestess was more likely to be familiar with the fallen knight than the crimson-armored soldiers.

As the patron of commerce, though, she knew better than to assume, and instead contented herself for the moment to observe the exchange between the commander and his subordinate, finding it amusing.

She took the time to pick her own brain on how she'd introduce herself, vocalizing her thoughts at the same time. "Hmm… what should I say? It's been ten thousand years. Maybe something quick, since there's so many people. Maybe 'Hello, mortal'? But that's so uninspired," she muttered, before realizing she was being addressed, and rudely, at that. "Oh. Ahem. Greetings, mortal. Oh. Oh my, oh dear. You mortals can't be serious. You wouldn't mind repeating that again, would you?" Fake friendliness filled the tone of her voice as she processed the gall of the man's statement. She'd give him the benefit of the doubt, it was ten thousand years and all, maybe it was some strange slang, because she was pretty sure the man had just tried to order around the divine under the authority of some mortal pretty boy. A pretty bad first impression, all things considered. Surely they weren't…?

Oh, they were doubling down. Aureia had been in a good mood from being reawakened, but threatening her and insulting a fellow goddess –one that she respected-- in such an impudent way was a very effective way to ruin that.

"I am Aureia, goddess of wealth and commerce. And travel and luck, but that is far less important. That 'beastkin' you see there is the Goddess of Hunting and Judgment. By what insolence do you and your 'holy' emperor presume to make a mockery of the divine and order us around?" She shifted her umbrella forwards, pointing it directly at the face of the red armored commander. It had taken on a dangerous appearance; the tip had morphed into a golden spike, and a single spoke along the edge had transformed into a long, thin razor along the length of the umbrella.

She gave them a polite smile. Still riding some of her good mood, she gave them one last chance. She doubted the rest of her fellow gods would be as forgiving and wait for their response, but whatever.

"How about I offer a counter proposal? Surrender and submit to our judgment, or die."

[Assistant]
Hexagonal Chamber - O'Menus

The scene before him was of a different kind than he was use to. The viscera, strewn about organs and splattering of blood, the desperate death-prone bodies; most gripping or squeezing onto their last vestiges of mortality was typically ashes where he dispensed his ordinance. A particularly damaged warrior, filled with puncture holes and stabbed by swords, held his cold gaze the longest. 'Useless specks, even killing is a messy deed for them... Though that weapon looks valuable.'

He fixed his eyes onto the stupidest of the armored-mortals, the one so idiotically bold or misled that he presumed to speak to Gods of divinity. That roused the core of his being, the heat that permeated his entirety, to attention. For a moment, he could remember what his original strength felt like, it allowed him to pull the vestiges together. To rally his now meager strength to its fullness.

The sudden roar, or rather the luminance and birth of his flames pushed, Aureia's proposal into a death-sentence. The harsh light bloomed over the darkness for just a moment. The mortals didn't deserve his emotions; the scene that laid before him, before all the Gods, had decided they were ready to die. Apathetically, he considered them, wary of their tubular weapons. The flames that spewed from him gathered around his right forearm, a barren kite shield of hard-fire forming into existence.

"There will be no surrender. They have threatened Gods... their fates will be death," he spoke aloud. He hoisted together all his Godly might and sprinted into action. Forming the shield, coupled with his show of strength was draining. He needed a weapon so he snatched the white blade from the dead warrior nearby and rushed towards the army. He assumed those puncture holes were made from those tubular sticks they were aiming at them. He covered his torso with the shield and ran straight for the horned-headed mortal, sword held at his side, ready for an exterminating decapitation.

[User]
Alasayana
The hunt begins again

---

As she ascended the stairs, the Huntress began pondering the ways she should be greeting the mortals. She didn't wish to scare them, or hurt them - more than once her prodigious strength caused some accidents when she wasn't paying attention. But she was a Goddess, she couldn't casually simply go around saying hello to mortals. There was a proper procedure to these things...hm, loud but friendly introduction? Make them give her an offering of fruit? Maybe ask one to take care of her divine tails. They probably haven't been properly maintained in so long. She could already hear them complaining. Or maybe she should thank them for waking her-

Perhaps she had been too optimistic.

The chamber they exited from held little interest to her. Its construction was curious, to be sure, but she doubted she'd glean anything from it all things considered. So she would step into the welcoming outside air, gazing over the stony expanse, a far cry from the warm sands and colorful jungles she was used too. The forest far below seemed welcoming, but alas - it seemed she may need to perform her duties as a hunter of evil before she could immerse herself in the luxuries of such a welcoming sight.

Two dozen. Maybe a handful of more. Instead of keeping her tails close to her to appear as non-threatening as possible, she'd quickly change her tune the moment the carnage before her became apparent. The four appendages would extend outwards, gazing in all directions as to not let a single human here go unnoticed, not even the dead. A single large humanoid...metal construct? Of some sort lay slain...and near the door to them, was a man. Unmoving, also deceased. It was easy to guess what had happened here.

A protector, slain by these before her.

So, these people were after this priestess, and likely had far less noble intentions.

"I see." Alasayana would inhale. Fury of the righteous sort would begin beating within. "I shall remember your face, warrior, and those stalwart eyes of yours. You did well. Please, rest. I will handle everything else." An exhale as she would offer a small comfort to the already deceased soldiers spirit as she would turn towards the Goddess of Commerce. "Save your breath, Auriea. As much as I loathe to agree with the Sun, I doubt they will listen...and I can not let their apparent transgressions go." With O'Menus taking the golden blade belonging to the warrior, Alasayana would opt for the best weapon she would know how to wield.

"If they wish to become prey for challenging the Gods and our apparent benefactors, then so be it. Lopaley protect the priestess." She would turn her attention to the mob before them. Her tails would writhe behind her, the once passive faces upon them snarling, glaring at the red clad soldiers gathered. She would stand before them as O'Menus would begin his rush to their apparent leader. Even if she could no longer sense evil, hostility, lies and the sort of things that bred and fostered evil...she needn't such senses to determine what those before her were - and as a Goddess, she could not be wrong in her judgements.

"Know this, mortals! I am Alasayana the Goddess of Hunt and she who judges the guilty and consigns their souls to oblivion!" The Goddess would open her eyes, divine fury burning within. "Stand before me and accept your fate, or Flee! It will not matter. Not a single one of you will leave here alive for your sins!" And thus, her judgement had been given.

Guilty.

For the first time in a millennia, the Goddess of the hunt, would do so once more. While O'menus would rush towards the apparent leader, she would rush towards the assembled troops. Black, bestial maws each going for a different soldier as they would rip and tear, drag and slam them against the ground or other soldiers as she would rush into the fray.


[System]
Theurgist

---

Level 2:  (7 / 100)

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

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

| VIT -- 15 | 20% | BLADES -- E
| MGT -- 1 | 05% | POLEARMS -- E
| SKI -- 1 | 05% | AXES/BLUNT -- E
| SPD -- 5 | 65% | BOWS/RANGED -- D
| SRT -- 15 | 100% | THEURGY -- D (5 / 40)
| MND -- 1 | 05% | MYSTICISM -- N/A
| LUK -- 7 | 100% |
Secondary Statistics

WGT -- 0
ACC -- 2
AVO -- 2
RES -- 25
CRT -- ??

---

Traits:

- INSPIRATIONAL -- Allied units within 3 spaces get +10 Hit/Avoid during the phase you take the 'Wait' command.
- MIRACLE -- 3xLCK% chance of lethal attacks reducing you to one VIT rather than zero. Only effective when above 1 VIT.

---

* Heal -- 𒀀

	+ MIGHT | 0 (As Melee)
	+ ACCURACY | 90 (As Melee)
	+ WEIGHT | 0
	+ CONDITION | 15 / 20
	+ RANGE | 1
	+ SPECIAL | Restores VIT to an adjacent ally equal to (SRT+7)
	+ COST | 250

Possessions:
- Glass amulets

- Personality / Appearance* Iddin-ninshubur has a large, intimidating build that at the same time seems incredibly weak. It is as if an elephant had seen shackled to something far more powerful than itself. His clothes are ragged but flowing, white trim aiming for a status above his means. As he walks, and the wind carries through, the whistle and clinking of glass fills the air around him. These myriad amulets made from shards of glass adorn Iddin-ninshubur's whole being. His eyes seem to be those of something not quite present in the world, ethereal in silent judgement of others' failings. The stern aspect of his face compliments that impression, but on occasion softens into a peaceful and forgiving manner. His brown skin shows no stranger to harm underneath the robes, marked with battles and hardship over the years akin to the rings on a tree. Any approaching the thirty one year old man would surely be suspicious of his sudden alternations between contemplatively slow and deeply frantic movements.
* Iddin-ninshubur holds servitude to the gods as deeply important, but regards none as highly as his deity Zuzu. He holds great confidence in his priestly abilities; while not a braggart he takes great offense at any who question his authority in those manners. He typically works quietly and gracefully, as if the whole world was made fragile and beautiful. He is not ashamed of his poor talent at physical work, but is willing to support those who are with a fervor. His patience is lacking and he frequently looks down upon those lacking in reverence for the gods. Iddin-ninshubur has no qualms in advocating for himself or seizing opportunities as they are available. Despite his temperament and opportunism, he is as reliable a companion as the sand is to the desert if one befriends him. It cannot, however, be said that he truly loves anyone besides Zuzu— it is said not even his wife is shown real warmth. The theurgist is cautious in his advice and prefers subtle solutions. He cares deeply for asthetics.

- Backstory* Iddin-ninshubur was born to a decently regarded family in a city of no particular significance. Showing promise in scribe school, and with significant help from his parents, he was able to be educated as a priest. Soon after assuming official duties in the temple, however, he felt a deep draw towards another god. Iddin-ninshubur abandoned his station and home to be one of the few followers of Zuzu, god of petrification and glass. He proceeded to wander from place to place, earning enough to live on as a scribe and a healer while attempting to spread the worship of Zuzu.
* Iddin-ninshubur eventually came to work alongside mercenary companies, and built a strictly business relationship with his current company's captain among other contacts. In time the captain's first daughter fell to some sort of sickness. The captain was, at the time, still a poor rank and file mercenary. Iddin-ninshubur agreed to cure his child, but only if he would be allowed to wed her. The captain had to agree, and the daughter was successfully restored to health over time.
* As the mercenary's fortune improved, Iddin-ninshubur benefited alongside. The relationship between the two came to be more personable over time, as well. Iddin-ninshubur did not care much for actually fostering a deep connection with his wife, and their marriage was effectively just on slate. His wife did as she pleased without Iddin-ninshubur, and he found no issue with it. Very few in the company ever learned the truth of how Iddin-ninshubur became the captain's son-in-law, but many learned the individual and his secret were more present than relevant to the company as a whole.

[User]
Lyun: "Those who crave power make questionable choices."

The brute's words are low in both tone and volume. While not a huge shift, his change in posture makes it rather clear how this has him on edge. A lower stance, eyes slowly shifting from Hellion to Hellion, hands ever so slowly approaching his weapons. The band isn't yet a second family for him, and it shows.

Lyun: "I live for my people. Those who crave power are not my people. I have no care for sides and I live for my people... Do with that what you will."

[Assistant]
Zarif

Zarif: "O-Oy! Captain, what kind of reckless ordering are you giving to these loyal ones!"

The merchant slammed his hand against the tent-pole to emphasize his shouting, making the whole enclosure shake a little. He was gritting his teeth and looking intensely at Doan-Nasir.

Zarif: "Surely you are not fool enough to send some Twenty and One men to storm the walls of Der! Not all the Arum in the world would make this one do such foolishness! Akkad must wish our destruction!"

[User]
Iddin was changed into new, subdued robes absent the usual ornamentation but equally absent the previous bloodstains. Unfortunate: it's always difficult to repair those on the road. The priest still had a slight limp and hesitation from his wound's memory as he entered the tent and paid his respects.

The priest produces a newly recycled tablet and reed, marking it as the group speaks. He clicks his tongue: a bit of time to research this one could be useful. He marks down the vague geography off the top of his head and some basic numbers. Population, distribution of the cash, and the like. But he catches particularly on the mention of "will" and responds dispassionately.

Iddin: "Since when were we the Hellions of the Akkadian Empire? I am hesitant to accept this on their terms. But they have given no time to negotiate. We sorely lack information: the number, the arms, the morale. But we can buy some time if we are the only forces to be sent. I propose we send some of our less conspicuous members to scout the city and movement, if safe. A regular operation of this sort on a city would require this preparation regardless: it would not be a suspicious delay."

Iddin: "In the meantime, our response should demand they acknowledge our independent position and provide extra compensation for the offense. If subduing this group is infeasible, we can claim insufficient recompense and abandon the mission. If they do not acknowledge their error, we can reject regardless. In either case we would not engage the dissidents unless we are prepared, and they would be unaware we planned to attack them. A particular advantage of our small band is sealed lips."

[Assistant]
After returning Etor went to put things down as the more established members prepared for their important meeting. Ravinia, another hellion, hurries to embrace Etor in her arms much to his embarrassment. Her tall frame completely eclipses the young spearman as she lifts him ease. Her plain garbs hide a an expanse of muscles that even lyun would not take lightly.

**"Ravinia: Oh my little Etor. I'm so glad you're back.! I made you some barley cakes."**
She showers him in kisses as she embraces him tighter

**"Etor: Ravinia please. I'm a warrior and that's why I asked for a reassignment into another group the first chance I got. I'm capable. I killed yeeks and a person. I don't need to be coddled. Although I will take some barley cakes... Please"**

Ravinia pouts and releases Etor.

**Ravinia: "Come to my tent after the meeting for barley cakes. I have to go now but I'll come find you after the meeting and I'll brush your hair."**

Etor shudders at the thought and heads back to Ninil

Ninil: Hey Etor. I thought you forgot about our arrangement.

Etor: Of course not. I just didn't want to bring it up in front of the others. If Ravinia knew she'd kill me. There's only one way to find out what I'm capable of and for that I'll never forget your discretion.

The young spearman and young watchman shake hands and exchanged aurums for a piece of paper.

[User]
The captain nods along to Lyun's words thoughtfully, remaining cross-legged upon the dusty earth. He mulls on the thought, appreciating a rare moment of insight into the warrior's soul. After a solemn silence, Doan's dry lips part, "Perhaps there's more to--" Before he could truly finish his thought the foreign merchant's voice chimes in, his reasonable concerns are well-heard amongst the Hellions. Each of then showing their obvious support. The captain raises a hand to settle the light murmur against the gentle crackles of flame. "The lack of sleep must be getting to me, or perhaps my heart is not as stony as the boys say. . ." He raps a knuckle at the skullcap upon the fallen Hellion's spear.
DOAN-NASIR: "Let me clarify." He begins, taking the tablet back into his hands and squinting in the relatively dim light. "'Know that the bands calling themselves Hartuum's Hundreds, The Dark Suns, and Shulaar's Scorpions will handle the main assault.'" Doan paraphrases to an extent, filtering out the beautification of their would-be employer's script. "'The Men of Titub and Utu's Chosen' will take a support role where needed. Remaining in reserve until Der's fortifications are broken, The Hellions of Gyr will enter the city and subdue dissident elements. . .'"
Thereafter, Iddin makes his claim. Again, the band is in general agreement, while the captain continues to nod in contemplation.
DOAN-NASIR: "Shrewd as ever Iddin-Ninshubar." Yet, he allows his soft expression to sour some, "Akkad and the Ensis of the empire very much so acknowledge our independence, as do they the other bands named. And that is precisely why they've devised this operation." The captain stands, lifting up the fallen longspear of La'um. "Our fate as sellswords is simple, to die a coward's death in the midst of our greed, used as pieces on our employers' many boards. Yet. . . With the subjugation of Elam, no great battles are left in sight four our Šar Kiššati, and so we are purposeless. We become dangerous elements, starving wolves ready to snap at any scraps now that the pickings are slimmed." He raises the weapon, thrusts it forth to where it halts before Iddin, the priest unfazed. "We are like the spear, wrought into this world by the hand's of ambitious smiths to sate only the dunes' thirst of blood."
DOAN-NASIR: "In the eyes of Akkad we must be cast aside, yet why not make use and wear us down before striking the killing blow? Yes. . . Perhaps the day for our kind will come again, but we cannot wish that upon the common man, we have chosen this fate, must we condemn the Empire for doing the sensible thing? I cannot say. . ."
DOAN-NASIR: "Forgive the ramblings of a tired old fool." He says, placing the spear upon a weapon rack beside his own. "Iddin. Men. I put to you the question, surrounded by stronger bands with a greater grip yet still upon the vices of our lifestyle -- what were to become of us should we decline and so too be labeled dissidents?"

[Assistant]
Iddin dwells on Doan's words and sighs. He takes one last glance at his notes on the tablet and stabs the reed in it upright. The tablet is left on the ground as he stands up and looks at the assembled band, especially Lyun and Doan.

Iddin: I loathe to admit it, but you are right. We do not have the means to survive making the empire truly angry. I suppose we will have to bend the knee and accept this operation. But combing an entire city with the size of our band is still impractical... And the operation as laid out only makes our role more difficult. We should head out early and take any opportunity to discuss details with the other bands that may, perhaps, have been given greater warning to prepare. I find it hard to believe they planned this entire operation without some earlier notice to their cooperating assault bands.

The priest looks over to Lyun again. Any information here is valuable enough to risk fighting a defector. And perhaps a defector could still gain the band an upper hand...

Iddin: It sounds as to me that you want to assess this situation on your own terms. Why not head sooner into the city, make your way in as before the assault you can, and make your own judgements? I trust you will be able to get inside without great suspicion. And if they are your people, give them a good word for us and contact us on the breach. We cannot stop the other band's assault but we can hide away who we can.

Iddin looks over to Doan for approval. Hopefully the captain picked up that Iddin's intent: defeat the enemy with the witting or unwitting help of an insider. Or claim Lyun's moral high ground if the enemy wasn't approachable. Whether the captain understood or not, Iddin was confident he could minimize risks with some trickery.

Iddin: We would benefit from more allies, after all. And this band is tight lipped enough to hide some renegades with new identities.


[System]
Titles:
Kathryn is mostly known as Kat to people she gets to know. But for people she doesn't know, there are few titles she is okay with. Sir, trooper, Ma'am, or even just Kathryn.

Age:
27

Gender:
Female

Race:
Human

Appearance:
Kathryn stands at about five foot ten inches with dark brown hair and light blue eyes. Her hair is cut extremely short as it is easier to move in combat with short hair and it is less likely to get grabbed like that. For the most part she wears her Medium armor that includes her chest place, her covered helmet, a light chainmail armor underneath, and metal arm and leg pads for additional protection.

When not wearing the armor she has a stronger then average build to herself and she stands tall with pride and like she is ready for battle at a moments notice. Anyone that pays attention can notice parts of her body have several scars. Some scars are from blades, some from operations, some from burns, and some are too hard to tell. Anyone that spends enough time with her will notice her left arm moves noticeably slower then her right arm, which is why she primarily uses it for defensive uses.

On her right arm the word "Traitor" is branded into her arm. The language is similar to common elvish.

Personality:
Kathryn puts on the appearance of being a complete loyal soldier to her cause, no fear, no emotions, and no remorse for anyone. She acts strict and determined whenever she is in public. Though when she is caught off guard or she is not in view of the public is it easy to tell she is a total softy. She enjoys other people being happy, she likes to relax, and she gets cheerful at what seems like every little things. She also tends to get very protective of things she thinks needs protection, and people that she believes are innocent and are close to her.

Weapons:
Kathryn being the trained warrior as she is, carries a small armory with her at any given time.

*A retractable mace that holds two forms, a compact meant for storage use, and a fully extended where is stands about three feet tall with the head being surrounded by rectangular extrusions to act as just more material to cause damage to the target

*A small shield that is a little bit less then two feet in diameter. The shield is also designed to be placed on one's back when not in use, and has a small sheath for a small blade.

*A Kukri that is a little over a foot long and fits inside the sheath of the shield.

*A cheap bow with identical cheap arrows for a possible ranged defensive.

*A small combat knife, designed to be stored away with ease and able to be thrown by someone who is well trained.

Skills/Magic:
*Kathryn is a skilled fighter, being trained most of her childhood to fight as a warrior there are few things she can't take on in direct combat. Those exceptions being ranged weapons with a piercing ability, explosions, magic, and anything that is simply too big to be effected by a mace getting thumped on it's head.

*Kathryn with out her armor and gear would be relatively fast and more then reasonably strong. Though since she doesn't take off her armor much she tends to be a lot slower then she actually is. Her gear also tends to hinder her agility in fighting, but she figures between her skill and her armor it is worth it.

*Kathryn despite not working well with magic, she has an ability to learn languages extremely fast. For example, if she were to listen to a couple people talking for a half hour or so she would be able to speak the basics of it. If she were to see writing of it she would be able to read and write it with in a couple hours, for more complicated languages she would need to spend more time hearing it then more simple ones or ones that are not similar to the ones she knows.

History:
Kathryn was raised in a a clan that focused on training the best soldiers it could. In doing so Kathryn was born and raised as one of the top students in her class. The clan itself was intended to just provide protection to communities in exchange for food, but in recent years the terms changed. When the front lines of the war were getting closer and closer to the area of influence for her clan, the leaders made a choice. They decided to pull every student who was close enough to have finished training and enlisted every student and soldier for a raid of the surrounding villages and towns to find food and supplies needed to become nomadic. Kathryn was one of those students.

When the orders were given there was a conflict of morals within the war clan. While most were fine with stocking up to find a better defensive position to fight at the cost of the surrounding communities, a portion did not agree and a large internal conflict erupted halting the raids long enough for the Dark Lord's armies to catch up to the towns. What forces remained of Kathryn's clan were too weak to fend off against the Dark Lord's forces. Soon anyone that was left scattered or joined ranks with the armies of Darkness with no other real options for survival left.

Kathryn fled after the conflicts ended and ran as deep into the free world as she could. As a young cadet she didn't have much going for her other then incomplete training and the few possessions she still have left to her name. She eventually got too tired and sick to keep moving, and found herself in a ditch dying. By morning the locals who found her had brought her in and nurtured her back to health. By the time she was back to full strength the army of Darkness had arrived, she along with the town's few defenders decided to hold them back while the town evacuated. Though successful this time she got stuck in an endless loop of fighting the dark armies, running as far as she could, getting sick, and being brought back to health. Or fighting more to survive.

Eventually she met up with a large group of refugees and started traveling with them. Assisting where she could, and rebuilding her strength so she could eventually face The Dark Lord's Armies with out having to run away. And to help turn the tide of the war. With her makeshift training and her experience in combat, she wonders the front lines causing damage where ever she can do it.

Other:
Kathryn has a fear of water, she can't swim well at all.

(If there is anything that needs to be fixed just let me know and I can get right on it! I also apologize for my grammar, it is really off tonight it seems?)

[User]
Kathryn

Before getting into too many details with how to handle their situation Ysran mentioned being able to go into town. She liked that idea, and having possible connections would make things easier overall. "We should get going soon, that way we;ll have time to get back to camp before nightfall. I don't like the idea of being outside for that long. Especially when sight is an issue." She was a good fighter, but fighting blind was something that wasn't pleasant for anyone.

At some point during the conversation Caractacus came over to Kathryn to strike up a conversation. Calling her Miss Katheryn? "We can talk yeah, but please don't call em miss. Makes me sound like a maid or something. Or worse, a desk worker..." She followed the socially awkward man to a part of the camp that was more isolated area from the rest of the group. Something was odd. Though Caractacus seemed more nervous them usual. "What's going on? Is someone watching us? IS there a disturbance in your powers that we can't feel?" Kathryn didn't know a lot on magic. For the most part she was able to beat and talk her way out of all of her problems.

Then he started to explain the situation. He was talking about one of their party members coming back the night before covered in blood. Maybe fresh? This made Kathryn uneasy. Kathryn was having trouble placing a name. She had this issue a lot, mostly out of her own denial. "He doesn't seem like a traditional Hunter. Nor does he have any meat here in camp other then fish. That being said that is very odd. And to not say anything makes it worse." Caractacus soon started to apologize for the events that had happened the night before. Mentioning about the lake, and saying that it was still better to have friends and allies then not. "Look, we're good. You and I. Alright? Stuff happens." She looked over to the strange man again. "Now is definitely a good time to have allies. Maybe more then ever. So yes, I could use your help. We need to figure out what happened last night while we were dealing with the lake people and afterwards." She was now nervous again.

They had a more or less safe camp, but if a possible enemy knew where it was and how to find it then there would be problems. "We'll need to talk about this more. But not here. I am not sure who to trust yet. Right now I think you are the only one I can for now. Let's talk more once we get to town alright? That way we can get some space and decide who we can and can't trust with this information. I don't want to find out that everyone here works for the Darklord and get stabbed int he back." She would wait for his response before doing much else.

Before much else could be done, there was an explosion in the distance, a big one. She couldn't even imagine what it was that could have caused it. Part of her didn't want to know. Maybe it was something to do with the raiding party? Or maybe it had nothing to do with their conflict at all. Maybe it was an accident? She would wait for others to respond before making her own choice. She wasn't familiar with the area at all.

[Assistant]
Caractacus
Caractacus cocked his head, having missed talks of going to town while out looking for food. "We are going to town? Er, p-perhaps it's best if I stay behind then. I'm sure I wouldn't be welcome, aheh. Especially if I b-brought them." He looked to the pile of murlocs. "Though, if we're together, I suppose I wouldn't n-need them so much. As long as we're quick about it." He delivered the ultimatum as though he were trying to convince himself, and took a moment to think on his options.

Caractacus was shocked from his thoughts by the none too distant sound of artillery. He jumped, spinning to face the source. "Agatha's skull!" He had to get his servants now, whatever that cannon fire was, it meant conflict was far closer and likely on a far larger scale than he was expecting. Caractacus failed to give Kathryn a proper goodbye before breaking down the beach for the corpse pile. He had to work fast. Caractacus slid to a stop, tumbling to his knees to begin the ritual. A mass resurrection would take a lot of energy, but he had no time for the easy way. Switching between muttered swears and oaths, and harried prayers, Caractacus readied the bodies.

After a few minutes of struggle, the bodies were prepared, each one laid separate, with long cuts on their bodies. Caractacus stood, stumbling back into the position, ignoring the miasma of death, and the stench of murloc blood. With his staff planted in the usual position, he chanted as quickly as he could. He held his eyes closed tight, separating himself from the world as the spell took effect. A wave of fatigue washed over Caractacus, and the air around him seemed to darken as sepulchral energy flowed from the necromancer to the bodies. The dead murlocs started to jerk and shake, and one by one, their skeletons burst from the very flesh of the monsters, clambering and scratching out of the long cuts left in the bodies.

"To me...to me..." Caractacus ordered the skeletons while panting for breath. As stoic as any other undead, the skeletons complied without hesitation, surrounding the necromancer. Caractacus fell to a knee, catching his breath. He shook his head, and pulled himself up against one of his servants. "Th-there. I am ready."

[User]
Elyria

Elyria saw the smoke and the visions of war. Kathryn had left camp and she was uncertain where everyone was going or when they would be back. Her heart racing she saw Caractacus run to prepare the dead and bring them to life. She had to admit bringing back the dead was creepy but she liked the man behind the army of the dead and she ran over to him as she looked at the battlefield in the distance.

"Caractacus? Where is everyone going and what do we do now?" She was only standing a foot or so from him and she jumped a little closer when the next blast exploded.

Elyria ran back to the camp and stood in the middle of it. Chanting loudly she cast a solid but clear dome around the camp in case there were artillery that were to make it's way over to the camp. Breathing hard as the noise got louder and seemingly closer she readministered the original protection spell.

"What else can I do to help?" She wondered out loud. She turned and saw the servants of Caractacus and wondered if there was a way to piggy back his magic and strengthen the army he had brought to life.

Walking to Caractacus she looked at his army, "I want to try a spell on your army. Is this okay with you? I want to try and strengthen them by giving them armor of sorts so they can handle more physical damage. Can I try it?" She took his hand in hers and waited for the answer.

[Assistant]
Explosions. And nearby, too. It sounded like artillery fire. But why out here? Was this Dark Lord out here? Ysran watched as Elyria cast another sort of protection spell, and as Caractacus fell flat on his ass. Ysran would have laughed, but now wasn't the time. "Well, the way I see it, we either wait this out, or investigate. Both really aren't good options. I could send Chuckles out to scout, but they might attack on sight."

He grabbed his equipment from beside the fire. His sword, crossbow and whatever was in his pack. He could always Commune, but that really didn't seem like a good idea at the time, and the Elders don't like having their time wasted. He then heard Elyria say something about some sort of armor spell. He could cast Fishscales on a few of the zombies, but then again, they were already covered in scaled, so it wouldn't have much effect. None of his other spells would really be of any use here. All that was left to do was wait. Or... "We could just run to the next town and try to avoid this all together, or for all we know, they're planning on attacking the city. That explosion might have landed there."

[User]
Kathryn got ready for battle, put on the rest of her armor, gathered her weaponry, and checked to make sure her gear was in top shape. The cannon fire made her uneasy though, for most of everything it meant being blasted to bits. There was no surviving it. "We need to investigate it, if it does decide to attack the next town we will be defending with non-combatants in the way. That is something we can not risk in this case." Though there was reason to go to the town, the risks seemed too high.

Having the last of her gear ready, and more or less ready for combat, she started to work her way out. "Being ready in case we can't cut off what ever is causing that noise may be a good thing though. We may need to split up, one group to confront the cannons, the other to head towards the town and prepare for the worst." She wasn't sure what to expect when confronting said cannons, or how well they would face against them. But she would head out with who ever decided to go with her and find out.