[System]
BASIC
Goes By (Nicknames): None currently available.
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: Human

APPEARANCE

Face Claim (Actor/Actress They're Played By): TBA / I've yet to find an actor for this character.
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Blue
Skin Tone: Slightly pale.
Height: 6'2
Weight: 170lbs
Build: Lithe, somewhat muscular.
Weapons: Twin swords, multiple daggers and knives hidden on him.

Overall Appearance:

Dark features, Visible, jagged scar that runs down his right eye. Various scars are hidden underneath his clothing.

Ghent is often clad in black or dark grays.
Most of his clothes are made from black leather; his cloak has a hood and a mask to cover the lower half of his face if needed. He has various weaponry concealed; he often wears fingerless gloves, laced up bracers, and boots.

PERSONALITY

Likes: Gold.
Dislikes: Talking, poverty, people in general.
Strengths: Picking locks, leadership, agility.
Weaknesses: Stubbornness, Greed.
Fears: Loss, failure.

Overall Personality:

Stubborn | Calculating | Complicated | Quiet | Incredulous | Shrewd

Ghent's family was very often poor and lived in a lower part of a small, poverty-stricken town. His mother passed away shortly after giving birth to her second son, Garth. Ghent was ten years in age when she passed.

Ghent's father turned to drinking heavily and he came to blame his children for the loss of his wife. Fearing for Garth, Ghent took matters into his own hands; at the age of thirteen, he took his younger brother and left home, never once looking back.

Life on the road was not an easy one, but Ghent was determined to tough it out so that they would not have to return to their father. At first, Ghent began with petty theft; he stole what was needed in order to keep them alive, they took shelter where they could and lied whenever questioned. As the years went on, they moved up in the world. After years of practice, Ghent became a highly skilled thief. This was the start of a life he would live well past his teenage years.

* * *

Ghent has an eerie calmness about him and his emotions are seldom ever shown. Because of this, he is very difficult to read -- almost impossibly so. Ghent handles matters in a diplomatic way and doesn't often resort to violence unless necessary. For the most part, he is quiet and reserved, therefore much of his past is unknown.

Deep down, Ghent does have a heart, though he does his best not to show it. He'd be the last to admit it, but he has a soft spot for those in need.

BACKGROUND

Date of Birth: ? Have to calculate that. ,_,
Place of Birth: Outskirts of Laketown. Not quite within the town, though close.

Family Relations:

- Garth (younger brother)
- Lydia (Mother; deceased)
- Vincent (Father)
- Kaiden (cousin)

[User]
"Well, you never are." Elrond responded with amusement. The dwarves were eating, some content, others not. Ori was being picky, and Dori was scolding him as per usual. Kili wasn't fond of the overabundance of green food either, and he'd settled for amusing himself by becoming involved in a food fight.
Thorin didn't even bother reprehending his nephew. As a matter of fact, he nearly wanted Elrond to scold him so that he might have a reason for confrontation.
Contrary to this, Elrond did not scold Kili, or any of the others. Instead, he was busying himself with inspecting the swords Gandalf had shown him. "This is Orcrist, the Goblin Cleaver. A famous blade, forged by the High Elves of the West, my kin. May it serve you well." He handed the weapon back to Thorin, who accepted it with a nod.
"And this is Glamdring, the Foehammer, sword of the King of Gondolin." Elrond was only too glad to identify these blades for them. Each had a story and a reason for being made. "These swords were made for the goblin wars of the First Age..."

Bilbo was increasingly interested by this, then looked to his own sword.
Balin smiled lightly as he followed their burglar's gaze, then spoke up. "I wouldn't bother, laddie. Swords are named for the great deeds they do in war."
Bilbo hesitated, then sheathed the blade once more. "What are you saying, my sword hasn't seen battle?"
"I'm not actually sure it is a sword; more of a letter opener, really." If possible, Balin wished to save Bilbo the embarrassment.

Returning the sword to its rightful owner, Elrond looked to Gandalf. "How did you come by these?"

Kili burst out laughing as a bread roll hit Dwalin on the head, and Dwalin cursed at him (much to the shock of a few elves).
This didn't seem to bother the youngest, though. Kili was rather immature sometimes, especially if he was in the center of attention.
"I can't say I fancy Elves myself, too thin." Kili made sure not to say so too loudly, but he said it all the same. "They're all high cheekbones and creamy skin. Not enough facial hair for me." At that, he winked at one of the elves near the back. "Although, that one there's not bad." Again, he wanted attention for being so bold.
Dwalin raised an eyebrow, then looked to the elf Kili had referenced. "That's not an elf maid."
Everyone burst out laughing at his foolishness, and Kili wished he could have sunk into the floor. Being the center of attention wasn't always a good thing.

Embarrassed, Kili grumbled that he wished to find where they kept the mead. Once he made a hasty retreat, he started to walk around the courtyard some, then he took notice that Saeril was observing the group rather than join them.
Unlike before, she was clad in a brown dress and her hair was down. Contrary to his former claims that he did not fancy elves, Kili believed his godmother to be the fairest one there. She had a goodness about her, a motherly sort of charm that he'd felt only from Dis.
Kili stepped up alongside of her, and he was thankful for the balcony's ledge. By leaning on it, he could add a bit of height to his too-short frame. "Why aren't you joining us?"

[Assistant]
"We found them in a troll hoard on the Great East road, shortly before we were ambushed by orcs", the wizard answered his curious but proud Elven friend. "It was a shame to just leave them to lie there", Gandalf added to his point, before taking a split-second glance at Thorin to make sure he was at least a little proud of coming into possessing a great weapon such as Orcrist.

Saeril didn't expect Kili to approach her now. After what he saw from her, she didn't think he would still be that attached to her. He knew her ever since he was a young dwarrow, always dreaming to see, observe, or witness her in the flesh. That is where she came to the point: he saw her as his greatest imagination; his muse. He trusted her for so long, he never judged her. Those traded interactions with the letters and the gifts? It allowed him to closely connect with her, therefore it grew into a love between a child and a parent.

"I was just having thoughts", the she-elf answered with a sigh that nearly sounded miserable. She kept leaning on the rail with her forearms restinf atop of it. "Why are you not with them? Your brother would be expecting you to", she pointed out with her gaze still on the view. She took a soft breath. "They don't like me, Kili", she was shaking her head. "The elves", added into her point of why she separated herself from her surrounding brethren.

[User]
"And what were you doing on the Great East Road?" Elrond questioned the two of them, though Thorin remained clammed up in regards to their journey.
With a frown towards their host, Thorin folded his arms across his chest. "That is none of your concern."
Elrond was not offended by his lack of respect; he had anticipated it. Dwarves were known to be stubborn, and Thorin was perhaps the most stubborn of all.
"I see." With that, Elrond set aside his own glass of wine when he took notice of Kili leaving the table to join with Saeril.
Thorin noticed too. For the better part of their journey, Kili had been at her side, and he did not like it. Somehow, Thorin could not trust Saeril. There was something about her that he did not like. It was as if she carried a secret within secrets, and he did not think it good for Kili to be so very devoted to someone he hardly knew.
Without a word, Thorin rose from the table and left.
Elrond raised an eyebrow, though did not comment on Thorin leaving. "Tell me, Gandalf...how is it that Saeril is accompanying you?"

"Oh, well...I just wanted to explore a bit." Kili didn't want to admit that he'd left out of embarrassment due to his most recent blunder. "Fili won't mind." As Saeril explained her absence, Kili tilted his head to the side as a puppy would, his brows knit in concern.
"How could they not like you?" This made no sense to him; she was very likable and one of their kind.
"Isn't this your home? They should be glad to have you back. You should come." Again, he tried to encourage her to join the others. It saddened him to see how she chose to isolate herself.

[Assistant]
Gandalf looked at the she-elf in the distance, before he took notice of Thorin leaving the table. He didn't say anything, but did turn his gaze back to Elrond. He really didn't need the others to hear about this, so he stood up. "My lord, I think it's best if we talked about that somewhere else", the wizard requested. Now was not the place to talk about her. The whole time, alone, Gandalf told every bit of detail of her story to the Elven lord.

Saeril took another sigh, before she let her wings stretch open wide, and back into their proper tucked-in place. She can't tell him. She just can't. "Believe me, Kili. What I said before, was and always will be true. I can't be accepted among the Elven kin. I'm not even from Rivendell, per say", she explained to him solemnly. "My home is farther from here; a legendary place, once. You've been there before".

[User]
Elrond listened carefully as Gandalf explained about Saeril. "You would do well to keep an eye on her, my friend. Should Thorin find out the truth...it would not end well. For any of them."
Despite his concern, Elrond had faith in Gandalf, and he knew that the wizard had his reasons for doing all of this. He often did. "In the meantime, you are all welcome to stay for as long as you need to."

Kili was often very persistent, but he accepted her answer. As he looked back to the company, he absentmindedly traced his finger over the intricate markings on the balcony's ledge. More often than not, he could cheer up those he cared about, but he could not seem to help Saeril. This was saddening, but he was not willing to give up.
"Where is your home?" The youngest looked to her in confusion when she'd mentioned his being there before. "I don't recall having been there."

[Assistant]
"That would be most appreciative, my lord", Gandalf thanked his friend on their walk, just before night fell quickly as they had thought. Even for Saeril and Kili, the she-elf retold to her youngest godson about his childhood in Fangorn Forest, her home. He spent his hunting days there with his brother and uncle, and of course, all those times that she watched him from above the tree branches. She was quick at the those heights, even with her brethren who once live with her there. It has been a rather fonding memory. Although there was that one time when she asked him about flying.

The Elven lights that surrounded them in the night were enough for concealment. So, she had to stretch her wings. Slowly giving a smile, the she-elf looked at the dwarf as he seemed to be a little bored. "How about you go wash up? If you're still up to that view?", she offered him. They both needed to see the world from above at the moment.

[User]
Kili had listened intently as Saeril told him of the forest. These were stories that he would never tire of, and he smiled fondly as he remembered the gifts he and Fili would find. "Once we've reclaimed Erebor...I would like us to return to Fangorn Forest. Just you, Fili, and I."

Later that evening, Kili had indeed grown bored. Unlike earlier, he was quiet in thought, and he'd chosen not to join the others yet. Instead, he was sprawled out on one of the cot-like chairs, staring up at the gazebo ceiling.
When Saeril mentioned that he should go wash up, he hesitated until she added on about their previously discussed view. "Really? Could we go now?" Kili sat up straighter, then rose to his feet. "I can wash up later," he promised, as he had his heart set on flying. Somehow, bathing sounded a lot less fun than flying.

[Assistant] Indeed, later that evening, the she-elf sat with him on the cot-like chair. His head was laying in her lap, staring at the ceiling while she gently stroked his ebony brown hair. She would be grateful to venture her homeland with them, considering Kili's suggestion thoughtfully. Just the three of them; after the journey. She would fly the two of them there, and cherish the memories they had in their youth. His enthusiasm slightly startled her, but she was happy for his determination. "In that case, young Durin. Come with me", the she-elf offered her hand to lead him to the balcony, where they were earlier.

[User]
Kili accepted her hand, the smile never leaving his face. "How high up can we go?" To fly at night over the homeland of elves was something even he could not have thought possible, and he could hardly hide his childlike excitement. Even now, his mind was at work.
Kili had always been a dreamer, but this opportunity was beyond anything his imagination could conjure. This all felt too good to be real, but it was real, and he could barely wait.
"Do your wings ever tire, Delva?" Again, he had questions. Kili could not seem to keep his curiosity at bay.


[System]
- Name: Jerod
- Class: Mercenary
- Age: 25
- Sex: Male
- Appearance:
-
- Equipment: Iron Sword x1
- Personality: Jerod is a very down to earth, spiritual in a general sense, and honest to a fault mind of man. Jerod tends to be the one to call someone out for some reason or another, whether its warranted or appropriate or not. While the man is slow to anger, the quickest way to do it is to confuse his spirituality with religious fervor. He actively shows disdain and distrust for any organized religion, preferring his own, unshared beliefs. But this doesn't mean Jerod is a necessarily bad or mean person, as often as he might come across it with his uncensored mouth and generally common, crude manner of speaking. He just doesn't know to portray himself that well, nor does he care to in the slightest. He would rather be despised for what he is, then loved for what he is not, and will gladly be the first to make that happen, and talk someone's ear off about it, if they get him started, which can usually be done after about 6 drinks at the local tavern.

- Biography: Born to a group of bandits, one would have expected that Jerod would not have turned out much better. But, while he was a child, several warriors tracked down and slew the band of bandits, leaving the young child without family for a brief moment. The oldest warrior adopted the bandit child and took him in. Adopted by a bounty hunter, Jerod learned swordsmanship and other useful wildland skills, from tracking and trapping to skinning and scavenging. Once he was old enough to hold his own, his adopted father took him out hunting bandits and other criminals, letting him learn on the job opposed to just study and safe training. The next few years were of him going from place to place, bounty to bounty, focusing to zero in on his swordplay and swordplay alone. When his old man passed on to natural causes, Jerod took what he had been willed and left for greener pastures, as the saying went.

Having been 17 after his father died, Jerod drifted across the land, visiting sites and locations of legend and notoriety. From battlezones to memorials and everything in between, learning the history of the world and earning a paycheck with his skill, used to work here at some point after all. Gimme a few. He made enough money to make ends meet and afford clothes and a place to rest for a night. He made a small name for himself as a reliable source, and kept well clear of any attempts to involve him with this new Church going around. Wasn't his thing still, so he didn't bother, not until he could verify looking didn't hurt. At the age of 25, he had done a lot of work and shrugged rather then let it get to his head something fierce. He eventually drifted into Yllise, to look for more sight seeing spots or some work to do when its now.
Class: Troubadour

 Age: 19

 Sex: Female

 Appearance:

 Equipment: x1 Heal Staff, x2 Vulnerary

 Personality: Niya is not one to talk much, finding her words wasted on most people. Generally only speaking a few words at a time, sometimes far fewer than is appropriate, one could consider her bedside manner as a healer rather lacking. What little she speaks, is made up far more in actions, being a woman that prefers to let actions speak for her rather than hollow words. Coupled with a complete lack of a sense of self preservation, she is one who will have no problem riding her horse into a fusillade of arrows and magical spells to bring a comrade back up to their feet, because its her duty to do so. A sense of duty drives her actions, more so than anything else, although to whom this duty is sworn to is hazy, at best. But still, she will generally heal before harm when it matters, but one should not expect her to be nice about it.

 Biography: Born to Feroxian family, one would be surprised to hear this on first meeting the woman, but one word or action out of her casts any doubt of that aside. Both her parents were descendents of those who immigrated to Ferox after the wars over 70 years in the past, having progressively grown more adapted to the climate of the land, that much so with their own single daughter Niya. One would have expected a far more warlike occupation for a Feroxian, but her family had been apothecaries and healers prior to their immigration, and all the warriors in a war can only go as far as their wounds allow.

 Niya was trained in both apothecary and healing magics, usually acting as an attendant at arena battles and with bandit hunting patrols, ensuring battles did not end lethally (Without undue reason), and that the hunters and their quarry made it back alive (For the quarry, not necessarily alive AND well, just alive). Her quiet, harsh exterior was not unduly noticed by those she tended to, as the Feroxian woman provided far too vital of help to worry about her attitude. Spending much of her life either healing, or in the saddle, it was unsurprising that she would eventually not return home, just riding onwards with travelling supplies enough to get her to another land, and do more work there. Duty drove her on, as always.

 Niya had heard much about the Church of Naga, its teachings and plans for the world. A load of madness, lies, and hatred, the lady had decided quickly. This Champion of Naga, however, did not sound like the rest of the church, on a gut instinct's decision. That, and she suspected War would follow this Champion and whoever he ended up leading and siding with, and that meant the sick and injured would be there as well. So it was a natural fit for her to make her way for warmer climates, following the trail of this Champion of Naga as best as she could, the proud woman high on her horse taking time in each village to mend the injured and cure the sick, never giving a name or purpose, just asking one or two questions, seeing to the unwell, and moving on, earning a monicker of just "The White Lady" on the way.

[User]
Marius
 Marius wondered why everyone was coming to him about battle tactics. While 'everyone' was quite an exaggeration, the questions that they were asking Marius were more apt for Jacob, who was the actual tactician of the group. While Jacob was young, he still held the responsibilities and burdens of organizing and commanding the Shepherds. Although Marius was not uncomfortable with conversing about tactics with the troops, he feared that he might say something that could contradict the orders of Jacob. All Marius could do at this point, until he had time to get some detailed information from Jacob, was give those asking him these questions a general idea of their roles.

 "Well, we should take similar precautions with any wyvern riders that we currently undertake with our Pegasi riders. While I'm sure your stead is sturdier than those of our winged knights, but, unless I am mistaken, a well-placed black arrow could ruin your day, to say so politely. I'm sure we could say the same of the other Shepherds, as everyone has their own set of strengths and weaknesses. Until Sir Jacob and I have taken inventory of all the Shepherds, I can only give you some guesswork on all of your roles. So until then, I would say it would be rather unproductive to ask such questions."

[Assistant]
After the knock upon the door and the announcing of Jacob's summoning to the grand master, Mei'lin concealed her feminine gestures and started to play out her masculine charade once more. "Understood. However, I shall remain here to take care of the matter regarding the letter addressing my high commander. It will take no longer than minutes but please, you may go ahead," the general suggested with 'his' arm directing towards the door. When the room was filled with silence once more, 'he' settled upon the desk and started to neatly inscribe how the negotiation had gone and asked permission for going with the counter proposal from the tactician, at least, for the time being.

Gazing upon the courtyard before her, the Chon'sin maiden had finally arrived after turns and walks along the hallways of Ylisstol, with guidance of the available servants. Coming to a stop, her arms were crossed atop her chest with an amused expression upon her features. "Hoh? A spar between the tactician and another? This should prove to be of some interest. ...And perhaps it will be of use to know of his movements and patterns..." The sparring opponent has yet to be chosen but it piqued her interest nevertheless. In the future if the alliance were to fail, studying his moves should come in handy in the future.

[User]
Andres rolled his eyes, surveying the courtyard below from a window, it was clear of people and training dummies lay strewn about. Three large cracks ran along the wall, one could tell when the Exalt had been training, much like her grandfather Chrom she had trouble hitting the dummies. he surveyed the Shepherds and withdrew his pipe blowing smoke rings he stepped out on to a balcony overlooking the yard.

Jacob was walked briskly down the halls arriving in the yard, Andres had been waiting and without warning the Grand master threw a eruption of flames. However Jacob was un-phased as dove rolled and came up straightening his robes and dusting them off. He'd thrown a fire ball back but Andres cast a second spell, they met it in midair and the simply defused with a small burst of small fire. "So Andres, what are you playing it? Is another one of your games? I hope it's not another round of human chess, the Exalt was furious last time we used soldiers for that." For those unaware, the castle of Ylisse was anything but normal, servants had it easier than most of the soldiers.

Andres grinned at his apprentice clapping his hands. "Not today, today we train like the men of Ferox." Jacob groaned, he was no muscle bound barbarian of the north. He was strong but Feroxi strong, the could put the Ox in the cart and pull both. The gates all dropped shut as Andres turned the crowd, blowing smoke at them all. "So, who will attempt to defeat the Champion of Naga. Or are you scared of the boy supposedly blessed by a god?" He cackled, he was either a genius or mad. Possibly both and he loved every second of it.

[Assistant]
The mercenary pocketed the finger and let the priest blubber on and come up with something to say, laughing easily and clapping the man on the back heardily, which probably would stumble him a bit if he wasn't ready for it. He either wasn't letting the gift of odd body parts affect him, or he wasn't letting it show. But either way, his actions were the same as he also responded to the dark mage lass. "Tha's the spirit, 'ealer. Yer gift is appreciated, lass, an' ye make a good suggestion. S'all we?" They were no doubt aware of his curious accent, even most Feroxians did not speak the way he did so it was rather up in the air whether it was natural or acquired, but regardless, the mercenary led the two off in the general direction of the courtyard, assuming either of them had any desire to follow the man, he would arrive before the gates shut, and would nod to Niya who had beat him there, and would get no response from the woman.

Finding himself in a rather cozy fighting arena, for training purposes, the damage the one wall had received got a snort of amusement from the mercenary. Then some grandmaster looking fellow came out of a ball of fire, and he waved the smoke away from him as the champion lad himself and the grandmaster fellow, name apparently Andres, spoke back and forth and then the older man issued the challenge, and that got a grand old laugh out of the mercenary as he walked out of the crowd, tried and true iron blade at his side and nothing else of note as he approached the two, speaking easily to them, apparently undisturbed by the fact these two were some of the most important men within Ylisse. Either callous, uncaring, or had spent time dealing with nobility before and was unimpressed. Either way, he spoke easily to the two, taking up the thrown gauntlet before anyone else could stop him.

"Ancient beings like t'em dragons are powerful, aye, but t'ey ain' no gods. Ah'll give t'e lad a fig't, see w'at 'e's made of."

---

"You may try, crudeling, but you might find I have more bite than you may think. Thank you, Ser, I will go and seek answers from the Champion himself then." Niya did not appreciate the unprofessional nature the wyvern rider had displayed so far, and it was clear she had lumped the poor woman in with the same treatment she gave her companion, and regrettably oath holder, Jerod. Disdain and distrust, but would not openly engage in violence with from vows or circumstance. Whether the two would follow or not was irrelevant to the healer, she took her leave and vanished, and would find herself in the arena before long. Within a matter of time the gates were closed and the old man of a grand master arrived. Andres, if her memory was correct, the head of the Tactician's guild within Ylisse. A powerful figure, no doubt, and he issued a challenge to the group, and an all too familiar laugh got a groan from Niya.

Of course Jerod couldn't help but take up that gauntlet. That idiot of a mercenary was going to get himself killed one of these days, he was far too stubborn for his own good and would not lightly back down from a challenge. The only reason he wasn't dead yet was because she had yet to see anything or anyone mean enough to keep that man down, he was resiliant enough to match his stubborness. Even shrugged off magic at times, which had genuinely surprised her and led to the oath binding her now. Until that man released her of it, she was stuck following him around and aiding him in his endeavors, for good or ill. Thankfully he sought out this place and endeavor, but it could have turned out far worse. A cool remark came from the healer, directed at Jerod as a reminder. "Do not forget tacticians use magic and blade, side by side."


[System]
Character App
**Race:** Human/Dunenmer

**Gender:** Female

**Age:** 29

**Description:** Hailing from the northern, ice covered lands of Dunenmer, Talaran is a hearty warrior, standing at a towering 5'9'' and is of a fairly muscular build, the body of a true warrior woman honed upon the fields of battle. She has hair as white as the snow of the Dunenmer Mountains, long and flowing down her back with a few strands kept in a tight braid and her eyes are as blue and as cold as the ice that covers the old Lake Hilonota and fierce as a Gray Wolf, hence the family name. Clad from head to toe in heavy iron armor and a pelt made from the fur of an elk, she is always seen with her greatsword slung bravely over her shoulders as she tarries through the town, either in search of work or a good drink and bit of song at the tavern, not to mention enjoying the company of a few fair lasses such as the lovely tavern wench.

[User] "Are you serious about teaching me?" is what Zeetah was about to reply when the drunk soldiers arrived. Without thinking, Zeetah leapt from the ground into the shadows of the brothel's awning to escape the sight of the officers, whom he thought might recognize him from some wanted posters he had seen in the richer parts of the city. His wits returned and he peered over the edge to see what would become of his new magical acquaintances. A small part of him was also hoping that he was about to see a pretty great magic show...

[Assistant]
Tex blinked and glanced around as he suddenly felt the two hands leave his. His eyes widened as he saw the cause of the commotion: soldiers. While his face wasn't yet plastered all over the city as Zeetah's was, the notion that they might know of his earlier infractions was, of course, a cause for concern! He increased the distance between him and Zazoria as the soldiers came closer. He could only wince as they grabbed the lizard and threw him against the ground. A second wince occurred when that nice robe of Zazoria's got soaked in the soldier's drink. "I've seen quite enough of this...!" He angrily muttered.

He suddenly dashed back down the street, shoving himself between the soldiers and the sprawled out reptile. "Hey! No one beats -my- semi-acquaintances I met only about three minutes and thirty-five seconds ago!" He angrily shouted, stabbing an outstretched, accusatory finger towards them. "That was also a waste of a perfectly good drink! More over, no one is dumb enough to draw the wrath of a wizard--" While his threat started off solidly enough, when he reached for his staff, he froze when he realized it was actually no longer secure in the hoops of its harness that wrapped around Tex's torso diagonally like a bandolier. "Oh god where is it?" He thought to himself, his expression becoming one of obvious fright. He held his hands out before him as he stepped back, nearly tripping over the very person he tried to stand up for. "H-hey w-wait... w... we can talk about this!" He pleaded.

[User]
"No my brother I...was just speaking to a friend..."Zazrioa was going to speak once more but was interrupted by one of th soldiers pulling out a long sword pointing it at the Reptil,"I don't like you lizard breath no one in this city likes The Reptil they are sneaky,dirty...Renark" The one holding the sword remarked knowing that Renark is a racial slang used against The Reptil."So piss off before we kill you and make boots out of ya and your Renark pansy group" Another remark with a smirk drawing his sword.

Zazrioa just rolled his eyes since he had heard this before many times as a youngling and adult it was not different here then in Mirgeoof,Racist as his grandfather would put it but his Grandfather would have worse things to say about those people."Hi'magol Zimjoe Ne'hs Uzab Xop Yeq'Ca" He said loudly lifting his shaft high up into the air as a large dragon like creature appeared made out of flames shooting fire at the soldier's feet letting their feet aflame but not enough to burn them alive.

This would be enough to scare the racisy men away,"We'll get you back lizard breath one said running away and they would mean it so now Zazoria would have to watch his back although he was protected by some of the guards and his own kin.

[Assistant]
"Wow, that's a good way to make enemies!" Zeetah called to the pair still on the ground, "I usually just run. But maybe I'd react differently if I could do magic, too..." Zeetah remained silent for a bit and then continued, "I'm gonna stay up here, just to make sure they're really gone, OK? But you," he pointed at Tex, "you said you could teach me magic? And what about you?" he pointed another finger at Zazrioa, "Can you teach me too?"

Zeetah could see Zazroia's eyes shifting a bit in the way that says "I'm busy", apparently eager to get away. "Are you alright? Eager to get away?"

[User]
Loudly, the door to the whorehouse banged open, as Ja'Lir strode through. As was usual for anyone entering, one of the girls instantly walked towards him, to make sure he enjoyed his stay. A single withering glance from the paladin made her reconsider, however, and she quite promptly backed away. When the warrior strode up to the counter, where a scantily clad lady was performing acts more acurately described as 'entertainment', rather than actually tending the bar. As the onyx-skinned warrior halted beside the counter, however, the colour drained from the woman's face. He spoke in calm, soft tones, and yet he was clearly heard over even the dinn the drunk soldiers were making. 'There is a human with troll's blood here, where is that human?'

'W-Well, I can't-'

'If I were to kill every living being in this establishment, I would find the person I was looking for. Your answer will save me the trouble of cleaning blood from my blade, and you the trouble of being judged for your sin in the afterlife.' The tone of the palladin's voice was not one of anger, or intimidation, but rather a cold assertion of death.

'Room 12!'

Leaving the terrified 'bartender', Ja'Lir steps up the stairs, chainmail hauberk jungling with ever step. It had been a bluff, of course, he would not sully the name of the Blessed by committing a crime. Their standing in this city was bad enough. However, sometimes it was good to make use of the Blessed's bloody reputation, and his face could be devoid of emotion when he wished it to be. Which was, admittedly, pretty much always.

Unwilling to waste time, Ja'Lir kicked down the door to Room 12, the half-rotten wood easily giving way to his metal-clad foot. It crashed into the ground with a second bang, as the armoured figure strode into the room. His face was deep black, as was normal for those born in the great northern deserts. He wore a long chainmail hauberk, as well as thick plate boots and gauntlets. A helmet with an upturned visor rested on his head, protecting his scalp. A black and white tabard stretched down over his armor, the seven-pointed star of Trazyn emblazoned clearly in the center, a thick leather belt holding a long black sheat at his side. Combined with his height and muscle mass, he struck an imposing figure.

'Give the elf the glass.'

Having delivered his message, Ja'Lir turned on his heels, and walked away, eager to return to his post beside his mistress. She had a bad habit of underestimating the danger to herself in her scheming, and he constantly worried about her safety. Aside from her being a Prophet, he had grown rather fond of her over the years, as she was able to look right through his stony face, and with her he had no need to speak his feelings to have them known.

With five long strides, Ja'Lir was already at the staircase, heading down.

[Assistant] "No...well i have a meeting with a friend of mine...but i can stay with you for the moment in case they come back..." Zazrioa spoke now looking over at Zeetah,Indeed he was worried that Jade and the others were commencing with the rite and without him."Oh...and of course i can teach you my brother..would you like to come with me to stay with the Estrella de Celimna?" He now asked him seeing as he knew about Zeetah and wondered if he would like a home.

[User]
Zeetah knew about the Estrella de Climna. A pretty intense religious group that he was sure he could never fit in with. But the chance to learn magic--real magic--overwhelmed his thoughts. "Well... I know I could never see myself being religious, but I'm good at staying out of the way when I need to. If I can come and just learn magic...and maybe get a bite to eat every once in a while... then yeah, I think I might come with you! What do you say?" Zeetah lowered himself from the awning, careful to avoid the broken glass still scattered about.

"Oh, and Tex should come too! You're trying to stay away from the guards, too, right? I saw your face when you couldn't fight, and I recognize that look on any face..." Zeetah stopped himself quickly and turned to Zazrioa, "There won't be guards there, right? That would be silly... right?"

[Assistant] "We are not so bad..that is form the prejudice of others...we are here to help the community...among other things...my kin would be honored to have you in our home..." Zazrioa chuckled and would have to teach them that the Esterlla de Climna are not as terrible as the guards make them out too be,"Their are no guards in the House Of Climna...you will be safe there my brother..." He spoke now muttering a little spell to make the glass around Zeetah into sand so he could walk safely.

[User]
Ach! That noise! That God Damned noise! It was already bad enough that Talaran's head felt like it was going to split in two. Blame it on the mead and the several fists she took to her bruised and swollen face, still a bit pretty but not by much. She couldn't even hear the bard's tune over that pounding racket, as if the god of the forge himself was smashing the door down with his blazing hammer. "Augh! By the gods!" She groaned loudly turning towards the door, just in time to catch it fall to the floor with a heavy thud and lay squinting, pained eyes on the ebony skinned gargantuan clad head to toe in armor. A rather gruff fellow was he, and a bit intimidating too, even to the drunken warmaiden slightly. "An' jusht who in 'e bloody Abyss er ye?" Her voice slurred, she stammered equally cantankerous with a sharp pair of ice blue daggers staring back at him. It seemed as though she wanted another brawl in the blood and the ale. Unfortunately, that was not the reason this man was here.

The cold look in his eyes, Talaran recognized it all to well, it was a look in a man or even a woman's eyes....when they were out for blood, a specific blood. And often times, that cold look was indeed sobering to even the rowdiest of drunks. The woman remained in her seat, her glare held on the beast of a man as he barked for the whereabouts of a human with troll's blood and demanded the barkeep tell him where this person was. A trollkin? Talaran wondered. There was a part of her that was itching to grab her sword by the door, to teach this bastard a lesson about barging in. Yet, there was the other part, the surprisingly sober and more reasonable part that kept her rump glued to the barstool and her vigilant eyes affixed upon the brute. The barkeep, poor lad was shaking in his skin and the man barely laid a single hand on him. Only then would Talaran find it necessary to intervene...violently of course. Luckily this time, no further bloodshed was needed. The boy fessed up choking out his answer and off the man went up the stairs, his voice, about as charming as a braying ass, echoing with his order, Give the elf the glass. What glass? A glass of water? Wine perhaps? No, how much an idiot Talaran was for thinking something as dimwitted as that. It had to be something else, but honestly...twas none of her business, nor did she have any wishes to pry into it.

With the last drop of her mead finished, gruffly the woman sighed and slammed her tankard down on the bar, standing up and rubbing at her face with a gauntlet clad hand. A bit wobbly she stumbled over to the door, still disheartened her beautiful lass had left her alone at the bar, but the sweet and pungent flavor of Giulia's mead made up for it. Aye... I shudn't 'ave drinken too much... Indeed she shouldn't, not when she still had a job to do, that job being more of a grim and harrowing task...slay a wyvern.

Speaking of the wyvern...

"DRAGON!! A DRAGON HAS ATTACKED MY VILLAGE!! SOMEONE!! ANYONE!! PLEASE HELP!!" The frantic and terrified voice echoed down the bogged, muddy street and soon found its way into the warmth of Giulia's and to Talaran's ears perking up at the sound. Quickly the woman turned to the door and there he stood, a poor farm boy, his face covered in cuts, bruises and burns and his skin coated in a thick, smoky layer of soot. Tears ran down his cheeks as a painful river and ever desperately he sobbed into his hands collapsing at the door. Aye! Calm yerself lad! What's the matter? Talaran asked the boy, her eyes widening. Amidst his woeful tears, the boy uttered in return, "A...a dragon! A b-beast of the abyss! I pray brave warrior! Will you slay him?! He has killed my family and burned my home to cinders! Please! Please you must slay him!" The poor lad, he clung to Talaran's armor for dear life, the woman having to shake him off with a stern reply, "I said calm yerself boy! Was this beast a wyvern?" "Aye...aye it was!" Hastily and shakily he answered. "So..w-will you slay him, great warrior?" "Aye! I will!" And with that answer, Talaran raced back to the bar fetching her helm. "Ye there , lass!" She called to one of the tavern wenches. "See that this boy is taken care of. I must be off."

Lastly the woman grabbed her sword and out the door she was running for the main gate of the city, already the stench of smoldering ashes and charred flesh heavy in the air and the beast's roar...echoing far in the distance as a call to challenge, a challenge the warmaiden would meet head on.


[System]
Age: 16

Gender: Female

Appearance: Is... something the matter?

Arcana: II Priestess

Personality: Kotori is, by any standard, a quiet girl. She rarely speaks if not spoken to directly - and even when she does, she only does so in a soft voice. She isn't one to put herself forward and, in fact, actually prefers to keep her distance from others, making her a rather timid person. She is, however, rather diligent; always doing her utmost at any given task. Given her weak constitution, she dislikes most physical activities and, in fact, often sits out during P.E. She also seems quite conscious of people's eyes on her and quickly feels uncomfortable when that is the case.

Given these traits, Kotori is not exactly the most sociable person - though that doesn't really seem to bother her. Most of her free time she spends studying or helping her mother around the family flowerstore in the Warakuma Shopping District.

Equipment/Skills:
Weapon - Japanese Umbrella: A bamboo-and-paper umbrella.
Armour - School Uniform: The standard female Warakuma Highschool Uniform.
Accessory - Small Locket: A small heart-shaped pendant worn around the neck; kept in a pocket while at school.
Skills - Does well in her studies. Knows a large number of flowers by name. Quite capable at Flower Arrangement. Is strongly near-sighted. Low stamina.

Background: Kotori is the only child of the Shirohane familiy, who have lived in Warakuma for generations and are known for their flower shop in the Warakuma Shopping District - the shop is on the ground floor while the family home is on the floor above. Unfortunately, Kotori's father - a kind man who was never seen without a smile on his face - passed away in a car accident three years ago, leaving her mother to look after both the store and the child. Fortunately, Kotori was by no means a troublemaker - though after her father's death, she did become a lot more quiet and reserved. Though saddened by her husband's passing, Kotori's mother remains a cheerful person at heart and does her best to keep both the store going and watch over her daughter.

Apart from these things, Kotori's childhood had few other noteable events. She hasn't joined any clubs at Warakuma Highschool or actually made any real friends due to her nature, never being one to draw much attention. Furthermore, she isn't much of an athlete; quickly getting out of breath and has sat out during P.E. a number of times due to this already - though she doesn't feel all too bothered by this.

Persona: Kikuri-Hime

Appearance: Kikuri-Hime

Abilities:
Dia - Light Single-Target HP Recovery
Patra - Cure Single-Target Fear/Rage/Confusion ailment
Zio - Light Single-Target Electricity Damage
Strong against Electricity
Weak against Physical

[User]
Shizuka Otonashi || Warakuma Train Terminal || August 1 SAT: Morning

"A pleasant morning to you!" A familiar feminine voice called out to the group of teens who stood around the entrance to the ticket area. With a slight wave of her hand, Shizuka greeted her peers who were present at the moment. The girl wore a straw hat, a must for any beach outing, white loose blouse with a mid-length, pleated sky blue skirt. For the daughter of a fashion designer, it almost came natural to her to stay in trend with the season's wardrobe. ...Or so everyone thought.

"I-I do apologize for my slight tardy to the meeting time! I've originally intended to bring my sailor uniform themed swim wear as a form of cosplay bu-but mother upon hearing of it advised against it. Somewhere along the lines of men with peculiar tastes...?" Slightly tilting her head in confusion at the explanation given by her mother, she shakes her head to put away thoughts of potential reasons. Remembering what she had brought along for the group, the freshman lifts the basket in her possession for the others to see. "Oh! For the short trip on the train, I brought some sandwiches and tea as snacks!"

At the corner of her eye, Shizuka noticed a silver haired boy watching the group from behind a trash bin. Wondering if he were a new member of their group, since she had not personally met him, the teen simply waved at him. "Hello, are you part of our group?"

[Assistant]
Warakuma Train Terminal
Saturday
1/8/15

As Rui was looking around to new arrivals, greeting them as appropriate, he noticed a figure in the distance. It stood out not only because it was not moving like the few other people who were in the street at this hour, but also because there were so few people at this hour, so anyone would stand out doing anything even slightly odd. He waved over to the person over there, having recognized who it was. The last time Rui saw him was at the hospital with his usual offer, the boy's name was Kanna Watanabe, whom they had rescued shortly after Samuru's rescue, though his acceptance seemed to require him more thought.

Before the boy could speak however, Shizuka had appeared, and then approached Kanna asking him.

"Ah, yeah he is. You weren't in the group that rescued him that's right... This is Kanna, I sent him a message about the beach trip if he wanted to come and...", Rui examined the boy. He was in gear. He seemed more eager for this than he let on it seems...

"And he seems quite ready", he added. He would press to see if Kanna had decided to join them as a Persona user or not, but this time and setting was not appropriate. After all they were here to just have fun, and it should just be that, a bunch of highschool kids enjoying the summer.

"Well, anyways, are we waiting on anyone...?", he pondered.

[User]
Kanna Watanabe-- August 1st, 2015 || Morning || Warakuma Train Terminal --
Kanna couldn't help but twitch as an almost overly feminine sounding voice had to be talking to him. Only slightly embarrassed that he had been spotted hiding behind what most use to throw away trash, Kanna felt his pale cheeks turn pink as he slid from behind the trash can and nodded quickly. As he saw Rui waving to him, a small smile formed on his face as he proceeded to take a spot beside the other, almost hiding behind him.
"I-It's nice to meet you all..." The teen mumbled before looking up at Rui. "I didn't want to be unprepared...so..." Kanna trailed off as he scratched the back of his head. Of course he was a bit shy due to how many strangers were coming along with them, but maybe he was little too paranoid, as he had yet to move from Rui's side. He watched quietly as the others interacted with each other, his navy blue eyes never staying too long on one person. They all seemed to know each other for a while, based on how they were interacting, and there were a few that he recognized as upperclassmen from school which made Kanna feel even more out of place.

Kanna rubbed his covered up arm for a moment before looking at Rui.
"You think, more people are going to show up, Senpai?" Kanna questioned, tilting his head in the process.

[Assistant]
Matthew Harvester ||

Life is all but a blur, ever since the too close for comfort exam scores (no thanks to the flunked japanese part) Matthew had all but seemingly vanished from the setting as his days were spent either working or hanging around, with the occasional visit to the clubroom to look after and even expand on the range of plants around, no matter what it seems as though that place had become a form of sanctuary for him. The latest edition looked as if it was Myostis.

Matthew had all but grown complacent as if he had forgotten about something important, though no matter if he thought on it, it was all a blur. That was until he received a message.

"Well I guess I should go"

The comfiest of beds || 01 Aug 15

*Bzzz BZZZ* "SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY" the mixture of alarms and yelling filled the once quiet room as a phone was tossed across the room. The one who threw the phone contemplated getting back into bed before he saw the time on the clock,
"Oh hell no I slept in, gotta go" As the anger turned into panic the boy quickly tried to dress in the clothes prepared, almost ripping them from the rush in the process.

In the blitzed rush Matt was finally somehow was ready, and without double checking his prepacked bag he ran off out of his room…. Well nearly, as he tripped over his chair slamming the head into the door almost breaking the sunglasses sitting attop.

"Owowowowow damn it does nothing ever go right" Matt complained as he finally left for the meetup point.

Train terminal || 01 Aug 15

Running flat out towards the train terminal Matt was glad he decided to wear the runners there and leave the flip flops in the bag for later….probably.

Eventually he arrived, though he was late, while panting for breath Matt spoke up.
"Sorry…. I'm… late.. Woke up late" he quickly recovered back to normal and continued "seems i woke up late again ahahaha but I still made it so that's all that counts at the end" awkwardly laughing he finally looked around the group until he went slightly red and avoided the gaze of someone.

Matt himself wore a grey tank top under an open white and blue over shirt, with his shorts already being his swimmers that were almost flashy with all the different types of blues and purples displayed.

[User]
Kotori Shirohane - Warakuma Train Terminal | Saturday - Morning

Kotori was plenty busy with keeping her eyes glued to the ground - enough so to not notice another figure approaching but staying at a distance for now. As Sato finished up with the sunblock and thanked her for it, Kotori glanced back up, peering throug her glasses just past the brim of her sunhat. "Uhm, y-you're welcome," she said, more quietly than before - only to then look on in slight confusion when Sato seemed perturbed about something else. "Eh?" Unsure if he was directing those muttered words at her or himself, Kotori was unsure how to react - but luckily, this decision was taken out of her hands when another familiar voice spoke up.

Kotori was not unpleased that Shizuka unwittingly acted as a distraction. Turning around, she saw her fellow Agriculture Club member waving as she approached and gave a bow in return. "Ah, good morning, Otonashi-san," Kotori said as Shizuka apologised for her belated arrival. Thankfully though it would be of little matter, given that Rui had scheduled the meeting time well in advance of the train's departure. As she explained her reason though, Kotori blinked in slight confusion - before coming to the conclusion that Shizuka's mother was just looking out for her daughter and thus wouldn't want her attracting unwanted attention at the beach. After all, that would be rather embarassing.

As Shizuka went on to present the basket in her hands as full of snacks for the trip, Kotori gave a small smile - she had in fact wondered if she should perhaps prepare something to bring along, but ultimately decided against it. After all, she didn't really know the others' tastes and wouldn't want them having to eat something they didn't like - or worse, pretend to like it. But seeing as Shizuka was evidently more confident in such matters, Kotori was glad to see that no one would have to go hungry. A slight confusion came over Kotori's face when Shizuka turned aside and addressed someone - only now, as she followed the younger girl's gaze, did she too notice the boy by the trashbin.

The first to speak up at Shizuka's question was Rui rather than the boy himself. Rui explained that Kanna was the latest member to join the team, courtesy of being the subject of yet another Mirror World rescue. As her thoughts wandered to that place, Kotori's mood visibly dimmed - but only for a moment before she shook her head and almost succeeded at putting said thoughts aside for the moment. Kanna, having taken the opportunity to approach the group, confirmed Ruis words with his own introduction - albeit a little hesitantly, seeming a little ill at ease. Kotori couldn't blame him - she doubted that she'd be holding up half as well if she had to meet with such a large group of what were essentially strangers if she were in his shoes. As such, she tried her best to be welcoming as she gave a bow: "Good morning," she said, though the accompanying attempt at a smile did not exactly end up quite as encouraging as she may have imagined in her head.

As Rui asked whether everyone was present and accounted for, Kotori looked around the group and counted them off. Without knowing who was expected to still show up, however, this number did her little good. Almost as if in response to Kanna's question, the sound of someone approaching at running speed could be heard - the source of which, as it turned out, was yet another familiar face in the form of Matthew. Seeing both of her fellow club members gathered, even as one apologised for his arrival time between barely caught breaths, brought a small smile to Kotori's face - the strange distance between the two had been a source of worry for quite some time now. "Good morning, Harvester-senpai," she said, giving a bow as she did.

Unfortunately, the hint of a smile slowly died down and turned into a far more familiar worried frown when she noticed that both Matthew and Shizuka seemed oddly preoccupied with anything that was not each other.


[System]
Age: 22

Species: Draeni - These humanoids possess an increased resilience to pain, able to withstand blows that most could not. Their bodies can withstand extreme temperatures and possess a naturally high body heat, but this requires them to eat much more than average. Their typical features include some shade of charcoal-gray skin, black eyes except for a colored iris, black horns, and a pair of black fangs on their bottom and top lines of teeth. Draeni express very little through physical expressions in public, requiring a trained eye to pick up on the nuanced movements they do make. That being said, this makes Draeni very good at reading the expressions of others but struggle to recognize sarcasm and suggestive tones. Their special eyes allow them to perceive a wider spectrum of colors and are better at distinguishing between different shades.

Draeni, once persecuted, secured their place among the other races for their warriors daring and courageous acts during the Battle for Existence where many sacrificed their lives to protects others. While the emergence of the WAA and a general acceptance for all people has encouraged Draeni to re-intergrate with the rest of the word, they are still a rare sight outside of their homeland of Roughann.

Class: Defender (Sword skils/Martial Arts) - Utilizes the user's innate physical capabilities and combines them with self-boosting Martial Arts to make them a wall between the enemy and the rest of the group. Defenders are trained to withstand large amounts of damage and keep fighting to the last breath. Their expertise is the sword and shield but their training covers most kinds of melee weapons.

Rank: Adventurer

Homeland: Roughann
The kingdom of Roughann lies within what the citizens call 'The Mother's Embrace' which refers to the steep mountain ranges and dangerous terrain along its borders that make it difficult for travelers and armies alike to enter the isolated country. The first Draeni settled the area to protect themselves from the other races for their 'demon-like' appearance and reserved nature, placing them as the target of an ancient period of persecution. Though the kingdom of Roughann has freely opened its borders to the outside world, the path into their land still remains treacherous.

A large ceremony is held every year to acknowledge the kingdom's newest generation of adventurers, often the most promising mages and warriors of the kingdom. This is the only time when all the streets of Roughann's cities fill with food, dance, and music.

Every city in Roughann has a large, communal spire located at its center that contains all of the city's commerce and entertainment. Naturally all of the housing is located around the spire making every city circular in shape, with the most expensive housing closest to the spire. The greatest of these spires resides with the capital city of Dremore, serving additionally as a massive citadel for defense.

Roughann is a direct monarchy meaning that the King or Queen has the final decision on most matters. There is no nobility in Roughann because the government is operated by elected officials deemed best suited for the job. The majority of these officials are retired adventurers who returned to Roughann with all the experience they have accumulated. Every descendant of royal blood is required to join the WAA for a minimum amount of 10 years before they are able to take the throne, unless the current ruler dies.

Personality: Honest to a fault, Arton is perhaps the most trustworthy companion an adventurer could have. Unlike the majority of his race, he had learned to overcome the reserved nature of his people and has become more open with both his expressions and words. He does from time to time slip into an almost unreadable state when he is not actively engaged in social interactions. He is incredibly humble when it comes to his own abilities but is always looking to spar and/or fight stronger opponents so that he may get stronger. It is only when battling against monsters that he shows the fierce side hidden within him.

Appearance:
Arton has bright yellow iris amongst his black eyes and three long claw marks extending from under his right ear to his chin that has long since healed.

History: Arton was born to a large family of farmers on the edge of Roughann's territory, working alongside his nine siblings to tend to the crops and animals. Their farm was part of a small community called Ebonglen, where his best friend Furi also lived. The two of them would always go one their own little adventures into the forest surrounding Ebonglen, never venturing too far into the dense,dark woods.

One day a set of demon wolves set upon the residents of Ebonglen, catching the local militia off-guard. Arton's father was part of that militia and was home at the time so he went out to face the monster threat with only a couple others. Despite their valiant efforts, they were all killed before the town blacksmith, a human by the name of Cyth, vanquished all that remain like a hero from the fairytales.
Arton had watched all of this take place from a hidden spot and after grieving for their fathers, both he and Furi approached the blacksmith to demand to train them. Demands turned to begging as he initially refused, but finally gave in to their constant pleas. As payment for their lessons, they had to help with the forge along with their chores at home. Over the next few years, Cyth taught them the ways of the warrior and both progressed fast, though Furi was notably progressing faster.

The two decided to venture deep into the forest around Ebonglen, armed with weapons they had made themselves, to seek out a pack of large rats that had been terrorizing the farmer's fields. What laid in store were not some oversized rats, but a pack of demon wolves that took the lives of their father's years ago. They were barely teenagers and were suddenly fighting for their lives.

Furi did her best to protect Arton, as he was the weaker of the two, but they were quickly overwhelmed. Arton could nothing but watch as the beasts swarmed Furi and knocked her to the ground. Her screams of pain were the last thing he heard as she was dragged deeper into the forest. Fury filled Arton's veins and despite his own wounds, he fought hard against the remaining demon wolves. His fury was not enough to overcome them and if it wasn't for Cyth timely intervention, he would have died right there.

No search party could find any traces of Furi or the demon wolves that took her, only the lingering presence of their evil. Fueled by his guilt and hatred, Arton spent the rest of his time in Roughann honing his abilities. When the day came for him to officially join the WAA and begin life as an adventurer, he set off with two goals in mind. Protecting the lives of the innocent from monsters and finding any clues about what happened to Furi.

Powers/Abilities:
Temperature Resistance
Element/Type: Natural
Rank: Racial Trait
Mana Drain: None
Description: Species with this ability are able to withstand both extremes of the temperature scale, but require a higher intake of calories as a consequence.

Hyper Slash
Element/Type: Sword Skill
Rank: C
Stamina Drain: Medium
Description: A sword skill that increases the speed of ones attacks.
Effect: Increases speed +1 when attacking.

Power Slash
Element/Type: Sword Skill
Rank: C
Stamina Drain: Medium
Description: An attack that increases the power of an attack.
Effect: Doubles strength for a single attack.

Temple
Element/Type: Martial Art
Rank: C
Stamina Drain: Medium
Description: Purges the body of negetive aligments.

Ironskin
Element/Type: Martial Art/Sustained
Rank: B
Stamina Drain: Medium
Description: Increases the user's resistance to physical/magical attacks for as long as it is active.

 - A masterfully-crafted blade created by Arton's teachter, Cyth. This sword boasts incredible durability and sharpness. It was mentioned that this weapon would grow as he did, but as of now it is simply a fine-quality sword.
-Damage: 8
- A shield to match Arton's sword, the inside of this metal shield is engraved with her name and the promise they made together. Lesser quality weapons fail to scratch let alone dent this shield. It hold the same mysterious property that Severance has.
-Damage(Shield Bash): 1

Reinforced Leather Armor
Leather pack
-Small amount of money
-A change of clothes
-A waterskin
-Hunting Knife
-Map
-Rations
-Silver necklace with a single, blue gem

Stats

Newbie
Level 1
HP 125
MP 25

Vitality: 5
Speed: 3
Strength: 7
Endurance: 7
Mana: 3

[User]
"I mean this group is really strong," said the king. "I should have called the WAA in the first place."

Nice sarcasm, your majesty, Nanda wanted to say, but she only smiled. She couldn't tell whether to take the king seriously. He seemed like someone who is unironically fun at parties, and that already earned a point of respect from her. Another point came when he revealed that the escort method is an honest-to-goodness flying carpet. Nanda shook her head in amazement.

"Boy, people would kill to get sights like this."

The view was certainly remarkable, and Nanda made it a point to memorise the layout of the city while they were far above. It was a very short trip unfortunately, and soon the dungeon was in sight.

It was a grim-looking place, and she could feel nothing but bad vibes coming from either the dark clouds or its dark cavern. "Loooooook at that cloud. It's so beautiful," the boy said, which surprised her. It took her a while to realise that, yes, well, there was something of a beauty to it? A beauty that was cut short by the emergence of the bloody soldier.

Nanda rushed to the injured man along with Sampson. "You're going to be okay," she said, firmly. "What happened in there?"

One of her hands went to the dagger in his belt. The red colour melted from his cloak, turning it the colour of the ground. She glanced at the dungeon's entrance. 15 elite knights, gone. Hmm, she might have to take this more seriously than the king was making it out to be.

[Assistant]
The soldier seemed to be unresponsive to those that were trying to help him. Sampson conjured up a fireball and shove it into the soldiers still bleeding arm. The Knight seemed to not feel the pain as his wound was burned shut. "Open your eyes Jackson! Stay with me!" With a heavy-handed smack, the young boy Jack, slapped the Knight in the face. Jack no! You disrespectful little-" Just then the Soldier came back to reality. "Cap-Captain...is it....really you?" The dying knight said almost to his last breath. "Rest now. We'll get you back to the city." The Captain motioned for the soldiers that accompanied them there to take the wounded back to the city where he could get some much-needed healing. As the 2 knights are dragging their comrade back to the carpet the injured soldier suddenly screams out. "Watch out....they're coming...." This caught Sampson off guard as he was primarily focused with tending to the injured.

The group split, a few went to assist the injured man while the others acted as a shield for what was to come out of the entrance. Good thinking on their part as a few moments pass, a pair slow clumsy footsteps could be heard approaching. Heavy armor clinking about as the footsteps begin to approach closer and closer. A figure could be seen in the distance. A slightly taller person with bigger and bulkier armor then the soldier that had previously exited. Sampson turned towards the entrance seeing as much as he could into the darkness. "Brother?" Anyone whose eyes could adjust to the dark could see the figure plain as day. It was a Skeletal Monster,
 wearing dark retro-style armor and carrying a large axe. Upon further examination, one could see he wasn't alone either. He had at least 2 behind him. As the Wraith approached closer, it let out a large screech before charging the line towards Arwyn and Arton.

Name: Undead Soldier
Species: Low level undead
Class: Knight
Appearance

Stats

HP 100
MP 0

Vitality: 4
Speed: 1
Strength: 5
Endurance: 3
Mana: 0

[User]
HP 75 MP 50 Sta Full
The shadowbow's keen eyes (Keen Eye ability, Darkvision racial trait) picked out the details of the creatures moments before they began to screech, and in those seconds Arwen quickly assessed them based off what she could see. Their ancient pitted armour showed signs of battle both old and recent, and their rotting flesh seemed resilient to standard damage.

Unsure if a straight headshot would even stop the creatures Arwen instead lowered her aim for their legs, firing off several arrows as the monstrosities began to charge forwards. Hopefully her attacks would at least slow their advance, if not immobilise them completely. (Three Standard Arcane Arrows STR 3 Attacks, targeting the creatures' legs)

[Assistant]
𝓐𝓻𝓽𝓸𝓷 𝓨𝓾𝓵𝓮
|~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|
Newbie
Level 1
HP 125
MP 25

Vitality: 5
Speed: 3
Strength: 7
Endurance: 7
Mana: 3

Arton held his shield firmly in front of his chest, covering his vitals, as the soldier screamed. The wounded man wasn't just stumbling out of the dungeon, he was fleeing from enemies. He readied himself for combat as he was reinforced by the other members of their party, but he took the center. Soon enough, three figures emerged from the mouth of the dungeon...decayed and decrepit. They would not pass, not while he stood.

He lifted his shield to block the wraith's attack, and to keep him away, then followed up with a powered strike(Hyper Slash) across the attacker's torso. Piercing attacks hardly did good against these kind of creatures. They were terrible abominations, evil monsters that must be destroyed. That much was certain "Send them back to their graves!" He chanted, a look of disdain on his face at the creatures.


[System]
Age: 25-32

Appearance:

Personality: Strong and hard-headed. Serge is a straight forward individual who's incredibly good at his job. As the leader of his group he finds pride in his work and leads the team to perfection. However he has a secret passion for fashion, he has an amazing fashion sense and is a great decorator. However he never lets it show.

Background: Serge is the only child of the city's superintendent and was raised in a well-mannered, highly regarded and rich family. His parents loved him and his father runs the police precinct with an iron fist of justice but compassion when needed. Serge was brought up to believe in justice and the law but prefers the body guard section of the law enforcement. Despite his high standing in society and how good he is at his job; he's not exactly the best with the ladies. He's a bit too blunt for his own good and doesn't quite understand how to flatter a girl but in his own unique way he can be romantic.

[User]
She laughed as she took lunch from him. "Yeah, not much to cook. All the local take out places know me by name. I usually call in and say "Hey, It's Lu. I can pick up at this time, and they have the order ready for me. It's like my own special magic." She took a seat across from him in a wing backed chair that had seen better days.

"Three meals a day huh?" She said as she blew on the soup a little before taking a bite. "Can't say I usually manage that, but I do cheat. I make my own homemade protein bars. Oatmeal, peanut butter, and Spirulina. If it is a week I am getting my 5k in three times I add mini chocolate chips. In your line of work I can imagine there are times good meals are hard to come by. You should look into Spirulina. The World Health Organization uses it as a meal replacement in some areas. In large enough doses it provides everything the human body needs except for calories and fats." She said.

She ate silently for a minute, She would have done great in the military with an eat it now taste it later mentality. She didn't particularly care for Ramen either, but it was fast cheap and filling, so she wolfed it down. "Once I finish my last two classes, and my thesis things should calm down. I have, as you know, you and your team are very through, a BS, but a bachelor degree is fairly useless. After 9/11 the field of emergency management exploded. There is a lot of call for it. I am guessing your agency has more than a couple on staff, and if they don't they probably should, but because of a glut of those of us with degrees, mostly military vets, positions are hard as hell to come by." She sighed softly. She was passionate about this field, it let her know a lot about so many things she was interested in, and not need to specialize in any one thing.

"Oh speaking of your agency. If it is alright, I would like an email for Ronald. I have a few questions for him. I know the basics of running dogs in emergent situations, but nothing like a handler does. I want to know more, so I am never asking for more than they can give, but I also don't want to deal with handlers who aren't giving me the real picture." That was Lucia, she was always thinking, always trying to learn more, to KNOW more. Anything that would make her faster, better at her chosen job.

[Assistant]
"You're dedicated. That much is obvious." Serge said into his bowl as he wrapped some of the noodles around the fork. "That's a rare and admirable quality. If more people took their jobs half as seriously as you did, the world would be a lot better place. Not to mention the fact that you don't even have the job yet. That shows dedication and people will see that in you." His voice was serious and direct as if there was no question in his statement. He may be blunt, honest and direct but you will always get the truth from him.

"Ron" He repeated, the topic of one of his teammates pulled his attention from his 'food'. When she explained her reasoning he gave her a nod. "I'll grab one of his cards from my house before I meet you at your work. You'll have to survive an hour at work without me. Don't get kidnapped. But I'm not staying in a suit and tie for nearly 16 hours when my employer seems more relaxed than others." He said with a nod before taking a bite. After chewing and swallowing he continued, "You know, despite how he may act; Elias is a master of disguise. Both in his voice, actions, clothing and makeup; give him a wardrobe, make up and ten minutes and he'll walk out a complete different person. It's astounding really. We all have our talents; it's just that Ron's talent is easiest to spot because it's on a leash."

A nod rose and fell his head before he finished his bowl and stood up. Walking into the kitchen, still in the apron and began to hand wash his bowl and fork along with the pan he used make their lunch.

[User]
"Unfortunately without the degree to show the dedication, I am kind of stuck." She sighed softly and rubbed the back of her neck. "It'll happen eventually. Worst case instead of FEMA, I heard the tribe fighting the pipe line needs certified emergency management folks. It would be a start." She said with a shrug. The downside to being someone with a passion, is that often you were willing to follow that passion without really thinking things through. Part of her was tempted to run away to the Dakotas and hide out on a Reservation, although with her luck, she'd get arrested or something.

She was very glad he wasn't planning on staying in a suit and tie, it would serve no purpose but to make him stand out. The clientele that showed up at her place of employment were not exactly classy folks. "Grab a bag of mostly comfy stuff." She told him. "I am hoping to get in at least one run this week, and at the risk of a sexual harassment suit... with a body like that, I am betting no less than 3, but likely 5 days a week in the gym for you."

She raised an eyebrow as he started talking about Elias. "I have no doubt in his abilities. He wouldn't work with you if he were less than the absolute best, but" She chewed her lip for a minute, "I have no idea how to put this. He Feels like someones little brother, it's not just the fact that he LOOKS 12. I mean lets face it, that kid is the Dougie Howser of Personal Protection, his..." She sighed. She was afraid what she was about to say would make her sound crazy. "his energy, for lack of a better word, comes across as unfocused. It makes me want to pat him on the head, give him a chocolate milk and the restricted profile on Netflix." She didn't mean energy in the woo, crystals, all you need is love kind of energy, but in the kind that went behind gut feelings.

She got up and followed behind him to the kitchen, when he was at the sink, she set her bowl down intending to wash it herself, and leaned against the counter. "Actually I am really glad you brought up Elias... It gives me a chance to ask you for a favor." She crossed her arms over her chest as if uncomfortable with even bringing it up. " Election night... I want you there with Dad. I'll promise to lock the doors, I won't even so much as order pizza, but I want you with Erik." She said. "I don't doubt the abilities of your team, please don't think I am questioning your judgement there, but I trust you. You are damn good at what you do, and I would prefer that if shit hit the fan you were there and not here."

[Assistant]
Her statement about his time at the gym made him grin. An honest grin, he took pride in his appearance and it was almost a rarity that someone would complement him on it because they either found that unprofessional or mambe he just came across as too brash for most. "3 meals a day and a good night's sleep… and 4 days for gym, 1 day out and about. Physical training never hurts."

Then there was the topic of Elias, he was an innocent young man with a heart of gold. But sometimes he needed some training and needed to learn to take things seriously. Maybe one day he'll get a serious job, someone serious to take care of on his own and he would have to actually put forward solid effort. From there he would most likely grow and develop but right now… a remote controlled shock collar didn't sound like a bad idea.

That brought the conversation to her favor and as he finished cleaning the bowl he turned it upside to let it dry and took hers without question. "Look Ms. Baker. Your faith in me and my team is wonderful. However my job is to watch over you. If you are insistent that I go be by your dad's side the night they announce the winner of the election than I see no choice…" He turned her bowl upside down and laid out her fork to dry with is before draining the sink. He pulled the apron from over his head and hung it back up.

Turning to her he gestured towards the door. "Well? Get walking and grab your keys. We have to go now or else we won't have time this week." He started towards the door before turning. "And grab the stuff you need for work, we won't be coming back until after your shift." With that he opened the door and stepped outside.

[User]
She raised an eyebrow, he wanted her to go somewhere? Oh Hell. She ripped the towel from her hair and headed to the bathroom where she slathered her damp hair in gel to keep the curls in place, then opened the cabinet under the sink and grabbed out the entire shoe box of makeup. "7 minutes... 4 if we are in a hurry" She called out to him as she dashed to her bedroom holding the box. She ripped open her closet and shoved her feet into a pair of running shoes as she grabbed a large duffel bag from the shelf in her closet.

"Can I ask where we are going?" She wanted to know as she tossed the makeup in the bag, and ripped a uniform off a hanger shoving that in as well. She picked up the boots she needed to wear and stuck them in the bag, moving quickly to the dresser where she searched until she found one of her padded, underwire push up bras. She maintained a B cup on a good day, but Victoria had more than one secret that was for sure. She shoved the bra into her bag and took a quick glance at herself wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt. She didn't care though. It would work she was sure.

She walked quickly to the living room to scoop up her apron, and other items he had neatly folded and set aside during his cleaning this morning. She shoved them into the bag and zipped it up before jogging to the kitchen and opening the freezer. She dug around for a minute and then slapped some bills on the kitchen counter. "I'll call Carlos upstairs and ask him to make a food run for me. He has a key." She said, and as soon as the words were out of her mouth she realized it would probably make him twitchy to know someone else could get in and out. She grabbed her keys from the counter and headed back to the living room, and looked at her watch.

"Five minutes and Change. Not bad. I could do better though." She said with a grin as she headed out the door to join him.

[Assistant]
"No." He answered simply when she asked if she could know where they were going. If he told her she'd say no, if he just convinced her go she'd give him less guff. Again he timed her, looking at his watch as she went on her run. He didn't mean to work her into a panic but at least she was good under pressure. However when she mentioned of someone else having a key to her apartment made him uncomfortable enough to the point that he openly coughed in surprise. Hopefully she'd fix that and quickly.

When they exited the apartment he said nothing more than what he did inside before leading her to the SUV and opening the passenger's side door for her. Once she was inside, he shut the door and went around to the driver's side. Getting inside he turned on the music and the two were off.

It wasn't until they pulled in front of a giant building with the word "Chanel" in fancy writing that he began to speak. "We're here." Putting the car in park he turned off the engine and climbed out, opening the door he gestured for her to get out. "Don't just sit in there. Come on." He said, barking an order like a drive sergeant until she got out of the car. Taking her by the hand without giving her much time to react he led her inside.

"Mister Prichard!" All three on shift clerks flew to him giddy with excitement at his arrival. "Hello", "Hi!", "How have you been?" The three women bombarded him with personal questions before he was able to quiet them down.

"I'm not here for me today." He said with a nod causing the women to sound disappointment before he had the chance to continue.

"We have a new line of suits.", "The jeans are fantastic.", "Even the new ties are quite tasteful." The girls went back and forth as if attempting to sell him on something they knew he'd buy.

"I'm not looking for myself but I'll take a pamphlet. I'm here for her." With that he held up his hand that was holding Lucia's and the girls seemed to jump back in surprise.

"He brought a girl." "I didn't think he had a girlfriend.", "Oh man I was sure he was single." Were some of the words he chose to ignore before pulling their attention back to him.

"Can I see the 2016 line of formal dresses?" With that he pulled her to the rack and began pushing through the dresses as he explained exactly where his mind was going. "Your father is the one who writes my checks, not you. So I really don't have to listen to you. However your desire to protect your father is commendable and I cannot overlook that. But I also cannot overlook my duties. So you will go to your dad's election announcement but not as his daughter…" He said pushing through the dresses, a look of dislike on his face as he flicked from one to another. "But as a guest. Use it as an opportunity to network for a job, no one there will know who you are so you won't use any political standings to gain any leverage. It will just be you, selling yourself because you happen to be in the right place at the right time."

With that he finally found something he liked and grabbed it from the rack. "Go try this on." He said handed her the stunning gold-crème colored dress with the open back and wrapped front. He then gestured towards the dressing room. "Come out when you're done I want to see it on you." He called out as he went in a different direction.


[System]
24
The daughter of Commander Isaak Belikov of Ardany and a brothel whore. She ran away at 13, after being raped by her eldest brother. She learned how to defend herself, and now she's a warrior. Some who know her name might call her a Lady, almost a princess. Those who know only her reputation might call her a ruthless killer. She stalks the dark places of the earth for murderers and rapists, taking their lives in a sick sort of justice-driven rampage. Though no one knows her face, she's often called Death's Handmaid or the Fourth Devil. And more recently, the Wolf Maiden, due to the snarling wolf mask she wears when hunting.

[User] Welcome to the Asshole & the Slave!

[Assistant]
It went without saying that Aleksandra Belikova was shocked to wake in a castle. She was not a person who frequented any buildings at all, much less a castle. But there she lay, half naked and covered in silk sheets, squinting at the sliver of light hitting her face from the window in the corner of the room. The light made her head throb, and her limbs felt heavy as she sat up and covered her bare chest with her arms. Everything still felt hazy, which reminded her that she'd been drugged.

 How humiliating, she thought, recalling the events leading up to her capture. She'd been riding for the coast of Noxus, hoping to catch the last of the trade ships back to Ardany. Her horse was skittish and she'd been in a foul mood, and hadn't seen the ambush coming. Normally, three poorly trained men with shoddy weapons would pose no problem for her, but her unpreparedness combined with their determination had been her downfall. She had killed one of them, at least. She could vaguely recall the occasional boot in her stomach whenever they came to feed her, but nothing beyond that.

 She turned her attention to more pressing matters. Her inconvenient nudity, for starters. She was bare-chested and wearing some thin silken undergarments, which would certainly not do. She swung her legs out of bed and stood. As her left foot touched the cold marble floor, she felt a sharp, familiar sting in her heel. She pulled up her foot to look, despite already knowing what was there. Inked crudely into her heel was the word SLAVE. She let her foot drop with an irritated sigh. Anyone one else would have been horrified to discover they'd been marked as someone else's property, but she'd learned long ago that someone or something always owned her, whether they were aware of it or not. Her past, the thrill of the fight, and slavers, of course. She'd been marked for slavery once before, but she'd escaped after one of the slavers foolishly untied her for a meal. She'd gotten a much larger tattoo to cover the slave mark, a pattern of swirling flames that covered her foot and crept up onto her thigh. Maybe she'd get creeping vines if she escaped again.

 She chose not to dwell on who else might own her. Though the morning was warm, being half naked didn't seem any more appealing. She spotted a man's shirt lying on the floor, so she scooped it up and pulled it on. Then she began to explore her surroundings. She went to the window first, knowing she'd glean the most information by looking outside. She drew back the curtains, letting the sunlight in and blinding herself in the process. She rubbed her eyes and blinked a few times, letting herself get used to the light. Finally, she took her first look. The castle itself was made of standard grey stone, with endless windows and a massive wall surrounding it. She could see a town spread out over the rolling hills at the base of the wall, and in the distance there were purple-grey mountains, mostly just blurs on the horizon. So, still Noxus. She'd been in the royal castle twice before on contracts, but she didn't recognize which wing she was in. No matter. She'd figure it out and escape in due time.

[User]
Aulfr marched down the stone corridors, decorated with tapestries and paintings of various 'important' people, places, and events. One's travels through the Oberjarl's wing of Castle Noxus were normally plagued with servants asking if their masters needed anything, guards watching attentively from their alcoves, and pages and the like rushing past, passing orders from one place to another. The entire castle was designed with military in mind- corridors curved, entrances were small gates, scattered sparsely, and all the windows were barred and designed to allow archers to fire out, and to repel the fire that erupts from the clay grenades that are sometimes used.

As he approached his room, set at the end of one of the few straight corridors in the castle, he pulled an iron key from his belt, looped with leather twine wrapped tightly with copper wire, to prevent it from being knicked. As he approached his door, a thick, iron-studded oak, he revealed the key from its small special pocket, and inserted it into his lock. A moment later, he shoved open the door, pulling the key out as he did so and taking a step back from the doorway. A moment later, he saw that there was no ambush since the occupant of the room was standing in front of his window on the opposite wall, and stepped full inside. He reached out with one hand, and dragged the door shut again- where he, again, not taking his eyes off the woman occupying his room, locked it, and hid his key away.

He studied her, as he slowly paced towards her, taking in her effort at modesty, putting on the shirt he had left on the floor, for exactly that reason. There was an almost painful height difference- she was rather short compared to the average, and he was rather tall compared to the average. She was much slimmer, as well, especially since she was wearing a not-so-modest bit of underwear, and one of his far larger tunics.

He walked up, stopping well within's arm reach of her. He was expressionless, until one side of his mouth curved upwards, and he said, "Well, what do we have here? The guys that brought you in said you were running for the coast. Ardany spy, perhaps?" He crossed his arms, but it was unmistakable how he left them loose- he was ready to react in an instant.

He paused, then continued. "My name is Aulfr Volsung. Welcome to the Oberjarl's Wing in the Castle Noxus." And then he reached out, seeming slow, seeming like he wasn't rushing his movement- and yet his hand was clamped on her shoulder in an instant, like snakebite. Firmly held, he pulled her towards him, where he picked her up, without any effort at all, it looked, and held her in front of him as he walked to the nearest wall, next to the shining light rushing in from the open window. He shoved her against the wall, and brought her up, staring into her eyes, face-to-face.

Suddenly the pressure on her shoulder was gone- a moment later, it was on her neck, pinning her even harder against the wall. The other hand was holding on to her, above her waist and hips, just below her ribcage, shirt bunched up on top of his hand.

He made certain that she could breath; then he growled, "Now you are going to tell me who you are, why you look like a pureblooded daughter of the higher caste of Ardany, and why in Bjorlog you decided to trespass into Noxus. And then, you're gonna want to give me a reason why I shouldn't throw you out my window, or use you up 'till you're a broken husk."

[Assistant]
Aleksandra turned to the door as it swung open, falling into a half-crouch instinctively, her muscles tense. Whomever walked through that door had purchased her for obviously deviant reasons, and she had to be prepared to defend herself. To her absolute dismay, it was a man easily twice her size, and no doubt much stronger than her. She'd have to stun him and run instead of actually fighting. But as he approached, she couldn't see any sign that he was about to molest her. No leering grin or smirk, no lecherous look in his eye. What she did see was concealed anger, determination. And before she could reply to him, she was in the air, wriggling around and cursing in her native tongue. She was about to give him a mouthful when suddenly, she found she could breathe quite a bit less than before.

Immediately, her hands were on his wrist, but she held herself back from hitting the pressure point that would numb his hand. She couldn't let him know she was a fighter, since he already thought she was a spy. And harming him in any way was a death sentence, and that was if she was lucky. So she played the weak act, grabbing at his wrist with a fear that she didn't have to pretend at. "Please, your Grace. I'm not a spy. I'm a storyteller and a seamstress." Thank the Saints that both of those things were true. When she was waiting for contracts or had no leads, she made money by telling stories in taverns, mostly the ones about herself, the Fourth Devil as people liked to call her. Of course, no one knew it was the Devil herself telling the stories. She liked adding fuel to the ever-growing mix of rumors on what she looked like and why she hunted criminals. And as a seamstress, she made cloaks for hunters that broke the shape of the wearer into shadows. She'd learned the technique from a man in Genta who called it camouflage. "I've been in Noxus for two years, your Grace. I figured it was time to head home to see my family. My father could be anyone, seeing as my mother worked in a brothel. I just wanted to go home and see my Nan." She let tears well up in her eyes.

[User]
Aulfr drilled his eyes into her own, trying to determine whether or not she was lying, faking, manipulating, or otherwise being dishonest with him. His grip started slowly tightening, slowly cutting off her air supply, slowly bruising her, before he suddenly released her. He watched her crumple to the ground, standing impassively above her.

Crossing his arms, he took three large steps backward, giving her room to get up- a mercy that many abusive people didn't give. He was no less hard, but he did not wear his emotions this time around. No anger, no coldness, just a hard stare.

"And so you say that you have nothing that I can benefit from except your body, is that it? A seamstress and storyteller. How useless- I am far too busy to listen to mere tails, when I'm off making my own, and I have the best seamstresses in Noxus, and some of the best from other countries besides."

He snorted derisively, now clearly disbelieving. "A simple, lone woman doesn't travel this land for as long as you have without being skilled at something- you can keep the barbarians of this land from you with stories or a nice pair of socks. Believe it or not, Noxus has its ways of keeping track of interesting persons- and a lone, traveling woman is rare. Very rare, especially a foreign, beautiful woman who starts crying- but when I walked in, you had the poise of a hunter. Of a fighter."

He uncrossed his arms, and this time, one hand rested on the handle of his handaxe.

"So would you like to tell me if there is anything other than your body that is of use to me?"

[Assistant]
Aleksandra was only seconds away from giving in and breaking his wrist when he finally let go of her. She pushed aside the pain and let herself breathe for a few moments, trying to focus on what he was saying to her. She was near-fluent in Noxan, but it was the hardest language for her to translate seeing as it was so entirely different from Ardanian. It was so much softer and fluid than her own language. An odd contrast to the people themselves, who often acted like barbarians in her opinion.

She didn't stand up when she was able to. Instead, she looked up at him and didn't bother to hide the calculating look on her face. She couldn't tell him outright that she was the vengeance-driven vigilante that every kingdom in the civilized world wanted to imprison. But she could tell him enough to keep her from being raped. But what would she say to him? Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet, actually staggering against the wall for a moment, feeling lightheaded. She could already feel the bruises forming on her throat, but bruises were like bug bites to her. After regaining her balance, she turned to him and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'm very good at being invisible when the need arises, your Grace. And I already know a few very interesting things about your father's court that might be beneficial to you. I'm afraid I can't reveal my sources. And, as you've already surmised, I know how to defend myself. Clearly, as I'm covered in scars and none of them fatal." She did have scars everywhere. Nicks all over, especially her hands. A white line bisecting her lip from being punched, a slightly crooked nose. Peeking out from the collar of her commandeered shirt was a light burn scar that continued all along her right half. She had whip marks down her back and cuts all over her legs. Her body was a battlefield all it's own. "I can act as your servant and as your informant, if you'd give me the chance. Since I don't suppose you'd take to the idea of just letting me return home." She'd figure out a way to escape eventually. She just had to give the prince and the guards time to relax around her.