[System]
Physical Form: Around 176cm (5'9") tall, his body shape is very human, save for the fact that his 'skin' is coloured a solid shade of red, and he also has two small horns on his head and a short, skinny tail. For a demon, he's pretty scrawny, and even by human standards he's not very muscular. He doesn't wear clothing, although as he lacks an anatomy he has nothing that needs covering up. He is also incandescent. At low levels of power the glow is only noticeable in darkness, although at higher levels of power it will become more obvious. The shade of his skin also becomes brighter as he grows more powerful.

Abilities: Torrens Igneus is the embodiment of heat and flame. He has no flesh, not even demon flesh. Instead his body is simply a solid shell for storing heat. Torrens absorbs heat and fire to gain in power, and he must consume regularly since the heat continuously leeches out of his body. He has the ability to actively draw on his internal reserves of heat and fire to create and manipulate fire, often in very creative and versatile ways. His body is always hot, with a temperature in proportion to his power, so his very touch often causes things to burst into flame and, given enough time or effort, can melt through metal and stone (power depending). In addition to this, his physical form is indestructible. Whenever he would normally take damage, he instead loses a portion of his energy to the surroundings. Similarly, coldness or, worse yet, water will conduct energy out of him faster than normal. If he is ever without any energy, his form hardens into a stone statue, idle until revived. It is also worth noting that Torrens' abilities aren't limited to normal fire. He can absorb and use more exotic forms of fire too, from sickening soulflame to the all-consuming Empryean, although he must first collect a sample of such flames since he is unable to inter-convert between them.

Personality: Torrens is highly cunning and quick-thinking, which allows him to put his powers to good use on the battlefield. He enjoys basking in fiery destruction (generally of his foes). He is also quite cavalier most of the time, and will happily taunt his foes. He would flirt more often too, if his very touch didn't immolate most people. Despite this, he is quite loyal to his boss and will seek to satisfactorily complete jobs assigned, for he knows the benefits of keeping a good reputation.

Wants/Needs: Mostly, Torrens just wants to watch the world burn- up close of course. He enjoys the thrill of destruction, and to feast on the flames. He'll also go to quite some lengths to get his hands on exotic forms of fire. In his down-time he likes to find a nice hot furnace or lava pit to rest in.

Relationships: He may be familiar with other demons, although it has been quite a long time. He makes every effort to be friendly to anyone with pyromancy abilities too.

Backstory: Torrens has long since left hell for the overworld, for he was bored with hell and sought excitement on the surface. He has served a couple of other Dungeon Keepers in previous ages, and now he finds himself here in this new world. He was naturally drawn to this new Keeper, who he intends to serve as they march out to burn down the land.

Other: Theme: Cavaliere - Two Steps From Hell

[User]
Torrens thought the plan over. It seemed decent enough. There would be a frontal charge, involving himself, which he was pleased to hear, which would draw the defenses out the front. There would be an infiltration, taking advantage of the disturbance he would be causing. And there would be a safety net, which would surely double as reinforcements, to help contain the town, which was a wise use of the orcs since Shukra was evidently displeased whenever they were sacrificed. Sparing any tactical specifics, which would depend strongly on circumstances in the town, it seemed a sound plan, save for one detail. Torrens let Athinar know as such.

"It seems to be a good plan, although there's one detail that seems a bit off. Unless I'm horribly mistaken, the orcs are loyal to Shukra. I'm not sure if they could be expected to behave under the supervision of someone else. While I can see good reason for having the orcs secure the perimeter while Shukra leads a frontal charge, the matter of leadership may present a problem."

[Assistant]
Narza cheers at the end of Anthinar's speech, running a hand through Athinar's hair absently. Although Narza wasn't too focused on the success of the plan, she understood that she wouldn't be allowed to indiscriminately kill the townies, meaning that only the priests from the temple would be up for grabs. Luckily, the plan placed her directly at the temple, and even better, they'd be killing the priests as one big group! From Derrik's sly and logical point of view, the plan was also tactically sound, and he had no objections to voice to Narza.

"I like it! I call the souls of everyone that dies though." Narza announces carefully, making sure everyone was clear on that. She glares at Azavarn for good measure, since the guy did funny things with souls that prevented her from eating them.I don't trust his hat, it's too curvy. Narza thinks to herself, narrowing her eyes at the demon.

[User]
While Shukra's face remained impassive as stone, behind that neat little mask was a burning anger that told him to get to that dungeon and wring the creature's neck. But, he would not give Athinar the satisfaction of getting under his skin. No, no, he had a better way. One that did not involve him getting under the Master's skin at the same time. And the fire demon, Torrens, gave him just the opportunity to do so. It was a poor excuse, one that he was currently attempting to build off of in his head while the others spoke, until he could piece together an argument. Or, rather, a thinly veiled order of how things were going to work.

Finally, he smiled, and laced his fingers together so that his hands performed an arch. "The plan, while it lacks in the department of details, is sound. But, as Torrens said, my orcs are not loyal to those who do not prove their strength. I respect Azavarn and what he does, certainly, but orcs respect brawn, not brain. They may follow you, Athinar, but for that to happen, you'd have to kill me first. So, for now, they listen to me, and only to me. Try to put them under another's command, and they'll do as they please. Now, I suppose I could order them to follow someone else. But, I won't." He tapped the claws of his middle fingers together, raked his gaze across the group, and then continued. "While you are in charge of the raid and the forces of the dungeon for that raid, which includes us, my forces are not of the dungeon, and not under the influence of any but myself. Meaning, you have no authority over where I place them or what I do with them. I could show up all on my lonesome, and I would be completely justified. I wouldn't, as my selfishness and pettyness would cause the Master to gain ire against me, however I will not place my men under your tender care simply because you are an opportunist."

Shukra stroked his chin, tugging at the long fur beneath. "But this is all assuming that the orcs need a commander on their asses the entire time. Order them to make an unbreakable perimeter, and that is exactly what they will do. One of us does not need to sit and hold their hands for them to do the job that is given to them. If they did, then they would not be worth our attention, let alone potential servants and troops." He was finished now, reclining back in his chair. While Athinar might not agree, that did not quite matter. Shukra had made his point clear. The creature could tell him what to do, but there was not a way in this world that he would get his grubby hands on anything that was Shukra's. Not to mention he didn't trust Azavarn as far as he could throw him. Deals would be made. He trusted his orcs in battle, trusted their strength. But their wills and minds were weak. Loyal they may be, but a promise of power could do in even the most loyal of servants.

[Assistant]
Ekusha departed for the human territories in an effort to begin her mission. She didn't see the need to explore the entirety of the nation if the goal was to clear out this particular outpost. Better to localize. So, she explored several villages, probing the minds of its inhabitants, looking for any outstanding attitudes or any piece of information that would be revealing of the dwarves.

Humans have always been one of the more xenophobic species, exemplified when it came towards their own kind. Ethnic cleansing, racial stereotyping, and fear mongering were concepts they whole-heartedly embraced, but it allowed them to survive through their clannishness. However, when it came to the other inhabitants that threatened their survival, humans banded together, whether it be temporary or permanent integration, to fight off their common foe in the name of humanity. In the countryside nearing the dwarven outpost, dwarves were thought of as almost plebian in comparison to them, suspected to be dust-covered cave-dwellers who collected stones and what few metals the mountains provided for an unmoving economy merely composed of shiny objects to stare at.

One perpetrator of this mindset was Tushratta, born to a farming family although he found himself employed as a furniture craftsman. When Ekusha found him, he was chatting with a bartender outside the local tavern, one he apparently frequented throughout his adult life. Tushratta was in his 30's, fairly charismatic and liked by his people. He indulged moderately, and often expressed himself overbearingly. He gained somewhat of a following with his words, stirring up the minds of humble drunks and working men. A politician in his own right, Tushratta was indeed a hometown hero in the making.

Rhetoric in the town was fairly anti-dwarven, belittling them to the point of mere animals. Views placed upon them were lowly, and Tushratta must have had the most openly intolerant view of all, constantly refering to them as cave weasels and insinuating they fed on the rocks they tore. Anyone around seemed to eat up his words, in a way covering their insecurities of this alien society that lay so proximal to their village. His words comforted them, and fed their egos. They did not have to feel threatened, rather they should feel powerful: they could easily crush any opposition to their livelihood, especially one coming from a bunch of filth-covered cave-dwellers.

Ekusha saw it: Tushratta had the hicks of this countryside in the palms of his hands. He inspired them, gave them hope, a feel-good conversation they could look forward to at the end of their miserable days of essential serfdom. He was a working man, but more-so a farmer-turned-artisan. He knew their labors, and he had already legitimized himself before these simple-minded country folk who knew little outside of their own village.

Take them.

Tushratta smiled as he looked around the tavern, already feeling a bit of buzz from the alcohol. "I say we pay a visit to that little dwarf colony." Others in the room were a bit puzzled. It's always been all-talk with them, mere venting. Talk of action was rare, but it seemed welcome to the frustrated. "They're up in those mountains, probably looking down on us, and for what? We let them set up shop for a while, but they've been spoiled. We've left them alone while they bleed those caves dry."

"What do you suppose we do, Tush?"

Go add some color to your mundane life, hick.

"Just remind them who's boss around these parts."

[User] Kor listened respectfully to Athinar's plan, but frankly, he didn't care what tactics they used. He had been a solitary creature for many years and had fought his way out of plenty of jams, but his motives were always the same: get in, feed, get out. The senseless destruction and slaughter that had accompanied the last raid, while amusing, was not one of Kor's priorities. However, it seemed as though Shukra cared very much how the plan was carried out. Those two will come to blows one day, Kor thought. That'll be a battle worth seeing. "So you want me to do the same thing as last time," he said in response to the orders. "Kill priests and peasants, and burn down their temple. No problems there."

[Assistant]
Torrens seemed to be satisfied at how the orcs would be organised, and gave a nod to Shukra to indicate this. Azvaran would need to be reassigned, but that was Athinar's problem. However, something else now bothered him. With Athinar's plan, unless some people were missing from the assembly, the frontal assault would consist solely of Shukra and Torrens. While this was the diversion, it still seemed disproportionate. Until his cunning managed to fill in gaps in the plan.

"I've realised that, with our current numbers, only Shukra and myself will be attending the frontal assault," Torrens stated, "However, I think I can see why so few numbers might work as a proper diversion. The most sensible plan would be to attack during the night. While your infiltration squad approaches from one side of the city and makes a quiet entrance, Shukra and myself would approach from the other side, with much fire and fanfare- tasks we are both well suited for. While the town responds to our arson, you can do your stuff with minimal fuss."

Torrens did not care if this was Athinar's original plan or not, as long as it became the plan now. "Of course, I think some kind of signal would be wise, to indicate if any one group has become overwhelmed. It would allow the infiltrators to inform us if our diversion isn't diverting their defenses adequately, or if we've been forced to withdraw so you know that the diversion will cease. Unlikely, of course, but a valuable contingency."


[System]
The female variant (right).

The artist, Moriartea-chan
Weapon: Staff
Combat Orientation: Magical

Element:
Primary:
Given by GM. Your character will have significantly higher resistance to these elements, and the aptitude to learn spell/ skills of these elements
Fire - The embodiment of primordial power. It specializes in both destruction and self-empowerment. A highly offensive element.

Secondary:
Hand-picked by the players. Your character will have marginally higher resistance to these elements, and the aptitude to learn spell/ skills of these elements
Light - Having an all-embracing property, it specializes on wide-spread effects, be it healing or damaging. A very well-balanced element in terms of offense-defense-support spell / skill availability.
Lightning - A variation of Fire element. Whilst Fire element's effects are often rough and unrefined, Lightning put the full power of fire, and direct it in surgical precision. Requires affinity to Fire element.
Darkness - Having an all-consuming property, it can absorb and/or negate other's skills and defenses. Though it has many utility spells and skills, there are not many that involves direct attacking.

Skills:
Innate:
- Weapon Summon: The ability to materialize your weapon of choice at will
- Superior Intelligence: Your character starts with increased memory and cognitive ability, and has higher aptitude in increasing this stats
- Superior Willpower: Your character starts with increased mental fortitude and resistance to magic, and has higher aptitude in increasing this stats
- Blessing of the Prophet: When outside of battle, the energy "Vassa the Prophet" exudes will repair the damages done to your physical body. Greater wounds take longer to heal, but anything short of missing limbs and/or organs should heal given enough time.

Tier 1:
Sigil magic: The use of symbolic representations (e.g. glyphs, monograms, pictorial signatures) to practice magic. Such symbols must be inscribed upon a surface and infused with the caster's intent, willpower, and magical energy. The uses are various, though at this tier fairly simple (e.g. barriers, traps, minor wards). This type of magic can be used in the quick, dirty, and rough variant, or in a complex, highly specific, and time consuming manner.

[User]
"P...pretty?" Cythril said in response to Lisami calling his name that. His ears perked up, he rose to his feet and he scratched his cheek in light embarrassment. He was trying to come up with something to say, but no words came to mind. It didn't seem like the goddess was too bothered by it as She continued to talk shortly after, even without his input. It caused another headache for Cythril, the pain assaulting him shortly after Her mention of the void's wraiths. He had to clutch his head and shut his eyes tightly to not get overwhelmed by the migraine. Flashes of memories assaulted him, taking complete control of him for a moment.

He could remember it all. The smell of blood. The impact of the weapon in both his hands slicing through any who stood in his way. The feelings he had at the height of battle, and his hatred for the gods. Cythril wished death unto every last one, an unrelenting paragon and martyr who lead the people in an unholy crusade.

But he couldn't remember what he was holding. It was like there was some part of him that's missing, a hazy blur among all the crystal clear stills.

He spontaneously stumbled on his feet. Guided by instinct, he backed away a little from Lisami. "What was... am I...?" he muttered, but without being able to find any words to finish the thought. Cythril repeated phrases like it a few times, each with a short break, trying to sort out his memories.

All he wanted before entering this garden was a chance, but what chance? Another swing at Lisami? A chance to run away from his own mistakes? Redemption? Cythril looked up at his... enemy. He should be fighting Her. Trying to kill Her... but he couldn't. He didn't feel at ease. The emotions of what he'd done screamed at him to lash out, to spill the goddess' blood. No matter how much it yelled at him, Cythril wouldn't be able to. He no longer had his weapon... and no longer felt the way he had.

"I... have changed," he replied.

They talked. It was comforting. Cythril felt terrified of Lisami before, but the more She entertained him, the less he felt on edge. It was only a small comfort; his memories kept coming back to nag at him. No matter how much the man tried to take his mind off it, he couldn't ignore these revelations. Even though they were mere flashes, they were undoubtedly real. The cynic inside him screamed not to trust Her, that She had gone mad. Cythril didn't want to listen. Even if his memories are true, the Lisami in front of him is not what the stories painted her to be.

What his memories told him She was.

The goddess had to excuse herself at some point in their conversation and left the man on his own. Cythril didn't like the sound of the "uninvited guests" she used as the excuse. Without Lisami around, his eyes were drawn to the object he'd noticed before. It was Her 'trophy' buried in the center. He stepped over to it, the handle that stuck out of the floor almost beckoning him. More pain assaulted his head as he got closer. The object was nostalgic. Cythril knew it belonged to him. He slowly started to reach for it in trance-like state, but a sudden rustle snapped him out of it. Cythril glanced over in the direction that said rustle had come from. From the hedgerows. Two figures popped out them.

"What are you-?"

Cythril never got to finish the question. A shockwave caused the attire of the all the garden's visitors to flutter in a gust of wind. Cythril turned his back to the other two, but still took a few steps in their direction. It put the 'trophy' in front of his face. He glanced at it for a moment, right before his instincts kicked in. Danger. It took him no time at all to crouch down and a keep his head low. Something swooped by and missed him by a hair's breadth. He looked up, scanning for his assailant. It didn't take long to find. A giant dragonfly, twice the size of a person. It wasn't looking at him. It didn't even seem to register him. The bug's beady eyes were transfixed on the two females that had entered the domain. Protecting it from trespassers.

'I don't need to do anything here,' Cythril thought. He could just let the two of them deal with this. He ignored the commotion, turning his eyes back to the object. 'I don't need to, but...' his thoughts trailed off again. No. This wasn't right. He still hadn't made sense of those memories. He needed to draw it out. That extension of himself. It was the only way.

Cythril stepped closer. He wrapped both his hands around the shaft.

A pain first assaulted his hands, then his arms. It started as a light shock, then bony tendrils sprouted from the object to stab into Cythril's skin. Was it testing him? Were they trying to repel him? He didn't care about those questions. This object was his. Damned be that a nobody resigns themselves to nothing.

With a mighty heave, Cythril pulled out his very own Excalibur. That said, it was no sword. The long, wooden shaft ending in a curved blade... it could only have been a farmer's scythe. No ordinary weapon, just a tool. A blade meant for reaping wheat. That's all he had, once. The one thing he'd been able to get his hands on. In order to defend himself... to rage war against the gods. It felt right in Cythril's hands. It made him feel tingly, nostalgic.

With his scythe in hand, he could feel a hint of the arcane flowing through him. It wasn't much, but it was familiar. Cythril once used spells and techniques. Now, he'd use them again.

He turned back to the dragonfly, gauging its behaviour relative to the two newcomers. His scythe was crying for blood. It wanted to revolt, to lash out against something. Thousands of voices all gathered in his head, crying out in a singular purpose: Battle. Cythril could ignore himself no longer.

The arcane magic that ran through his body began to flow into the wooden handle of his scythe. It all gathered on the edge of its blade, and as it did, Cythril dashed off to the side. He wanted to find the opportunity for a clean shot at the unaware foe. The magic coursing through his weapon first formed to coat the blade in raging flames, then those flames quickly morphed into the crackling of electricity. Cythril spun his body around to slash the air with his scythe, sending a bolt of lightning crashing straight toward the oversized insect. Unfortunately for him, not only was he was clumsier with his weapon than he had been, but the insect had also caught on. It moved to the side, Cythril's lightning harmlessly striking one of the walls.

The situation started looking bad now that he'd lost the element of surprise. Even if there was distance between the two of them and even if it was three-on-one, this dragonfly was nimble and quick to react. Cythril didn't have time to charge another spell, so he brought his scythe up closer. He needed to reposition, but his first worry was to dodge any counter-attack his self-made adversary would launch.

[Assistant]
Huladuras stood before a mighty beast now, seemingly having just finished with another less fortunate soul than himself. But, rather than listen to the creature, Huladuras simply looked down at himself, extending his free, left hand forwards to inspect it. It was marked by flame and ash, scorch and burn, and so was the rest of his body, only covered by a thin loincloth that covered his privates. Then, he looked right, up and down the shaft of the polearm, inspecting it, and then turning it sideways in his hand, gripping it with two hands. Finally his eyes gazed upon the minotaur king before him.

"I am Huladuras," he stated, letting his foot drag backwards through the dirt of the colloseum, entering a fighting position. "And I am no prodigal son." Without any further warning he rushed forwards, the polearm swinging back before he sent it hurtling forwards towards the minotaur, swinging the hammer at it's face. Of course, Huladuras had not seen how the minotaur crushed the former 'prodigal son' and so needed to find out just what this beast was capable of. In the off chance that the minotaur dodged the attack -- or even better, it hit -- he would swing the polearm back the way it had come from, in reverse, trying to hack the pick into the minotaurs head.

Of course, there was no guarantee that this would work. But nothing ventured, nothing gained.

[User]
Alnaera raised a questioning brow at the Pillar. "So, we've worked together before," she deduced. "Well, that's good to know you're reliable," she stated, and offered Vassa a pleased smirk.

The entity's scriptures finally burned out, the remaining sparks flying to her staff. The horned female received a significant power boost, and she suddenly felt rather full, but content. Her whole being buzzed with power, and the natural high had her grinning widely.

She did not have the chance to indulge or contemplate her regained abilities for long, however. A thrum of something absolute resounded within the very fabric of reality, and Vassa's prompt only confirmed Alnaera's inklings as to what it signified. "Yes…I recall," she murmured. "Lead me to her," she ordered with a sharp nod.

As she was led through the vast landscape, Alnaera considered the situation. One Goddess had been ended – or rather, had ended herself – and another had gone mad. Was the solution to bring down Lisami, then? But how would such a thing be accomplished? Bargaining, perhaps? Attempting to restore the balance? What's the supposed Equalizer doing, even? Damned Leshura…

She didn't have the answer, but perhaps simply meeting the Goddess would open up new possibilities. Before long, she came up to a hedge, and after forcing her way through it, found herself in a garden. But she was not alone; there were two other strangers there – a green-haired, pointy-eared female and a wolf-eared, gray-maned male. Alnaera blinked at the duo. Before she could ask who they were or what was going on, an obnoxious buzzing distracted her. It was just as well that it did, for its source was an enormous dragonfly getting ready to strike. She barely ducked in time, and saw that so did the two strangers.

Alnaera sent a fireball at the insect, which it easily avoided. The male, after recovering a weapon which had been buried in the garden, fared no better with his lightning strike. The Arcane Voyager narrowed her eyes at the enemy, observing it for a moment. She quickly concluded that its moments would need to be restricted.

She waited till the dragonfly showed signs of swooping once again, readying a counter-strike. Channeling her innate energy through her staff, Alnaera unleashed several tendrils of darkness through the tip of her weapon at the approaching insect. The shadowy coils stretched upwards, wrapping around the enemy one by one. They did not harm it; that was not their purpose.

Rather, its wings would be confined for a moment. Unfortunately, she could not reel the huge thing in, and as it struggled in her hold, Alnaera was in danger of getting lifted off the ground. She swiftly utilized the bottom of her staff to gouge the earth's surface, drawing a quick but crude anchor symbol upon it. Then she slammed the top of the staff onto the drawn circle (representing the head of the anchor), and transferred the already existent chain of darkness upon it. This freed her from the physical part of the struggle against the creature, though she still had to continuously power her spell and sigil, neither of which would hold for long. As much as it frustrated her to do so, she had to rely on the strangers for help.

"Now!" she roared, then quickly added a hissed, "hurry and attack it!"


[System]
Age: 15
Personality: Despite a lot of his friends calling him "Taka", Takatora doesn't actually like being called that. Something about the nickname seems to make him flinch, like hearing it stings him somehow. He rarely ever goes into detail when questioned about it, instead being quick to change the subject and brush it off. Other than that, Takatora is a nice enough kid. Polite to strangers, usually willing to jump in and help someone who looks like they need it. When it comes to battling, though, Takatora prefers to stayed focus and minimize the catchphrases and bantering. He also seems to take damage done to Gunpla personally, each hit he takes only serving to fuel his grit and determination.
Appearance:

Name: Hayabusa
Appearance:

Base Model: MG Astray Red Frame + Blue Frame
Equipment: 1x Dragon Sword (Katana), 1x Dragon Buster (Greatsword), 2x Beam Sabers, 1x Vulcans, Energy Shurikens (consumes particle energy to generate and throw shurikens made of beam energy)
Other: Has the Blue Frame's Scale System, allowing it underwater mobility as well as the Red Frame's Flight Unit. The Flight Unit is a separate piece of equipment that attaches to the external connector on the Hayabusa's back and thus must be taken into GBN along with the Gunpla in order for Takatora to have access to it in battle. As a bonus, the Hayabusa has also been equipped with Trans Phase Armor for emergency situations.

Backstory: Takatora was not the first member of his family to be into Gunpla battling. That honor actually belonged to his elder brother, Kiyotaka. Often called the Taka Brothers, the elder Taka took the younger under his wing early on. Kiyotaka was a skilled builder and battler, part of GPD Team that had been competing in tournaments even before the creation of the GBN. They were champions of their home district, and were poised take on the Regional Tournament and eventually the World Level. It never came to pass.

On a fateful morning, Kiyotaka was involved in a tragic car accident that took his life. One minute he was there, and in the next he was suddenly gone, never to return. This was right around when GBN's popularity really took off. Kiyotaka's death didn't go over well with his team, who disbanded shortly thereafter. Truth be told, there were already talks of disbandment since GBN went online, or at the very least migrating the team's training and activities to the online world. But with the Elder Taka's death, each member of the old team went their separate ways. Some now lead Forces of the their own, while at least one of them decided to remain independent. As for Takatora, he had been getting building lessons from his brother, Kiyotaka even helping him build his own Gunpla. He died before the Gunpla could be finished, and even now the model sits in its storage place incomplete. Takatora went into GBN using Kiyotaka's signature Gunpla, the Hayabusa. It's a great machine with quality building and excellent performance. But in the end, it's pilot is not its creator, and Gunpla experts are almost always quick to notice this fact.

Arc Name: "Out of His Shadow"
Other: Theme Song

[User]
After the events the happened in the tournament Hisao had dragged Takahashi, and the girls to a movie screen of Char's Counterattack which had eaten up most of his time. Lamenting the fact that he had lost some of his time Takahashi did enjoy his time out, though he would never admit it openly to the loud mouth whom had shuttled him here, and there throughout the day. Still when then next day came Takahashi rubbed his nose, and scratched his head as he woke up from a long nap to find that he had a message on stand by from that kid Isamu. Well he was persistant. If anything he was secretly hoping the kid would forget about them. It was two missions, one against a Gin team, and another against the champion which ended in a near squash match.

Fine if he insisted so be it Takahashi prepared himself, and then entered the GBN ready to do what he needed to do though still very much tired. As he entered the lobby his gut suddenly felt the need to heave as he saw Meijin there. Again? Was everyone around Isamu so intent on getting something? Even if it wasn't just him specifically he trusted this fraud Meijin as much as he trusted Char not to drop rocks on Earth. "I'm here...what is it you need from me exactly? I already told you I'm just tagging along to give this a try." Takahashi said as he rubbed his eyes trying not to sound too unfriendly but it was hard to do so when you get woken up from your nap to go fight some gunpla battles. He wasn't even a full time pilot he was a builder...man he really should improve his attitude though. Takahashi lamented his own thoughts were a bit brutal maybe he should ease up a bit?

[Assistant]
The Hayabusa was once again in a battle against the Shin Musha Hyaku Shiki. The field was different, this time a vast desert canyon painted by a seemingly eternal setting sun. But the outcome remained the same. Calling it a "battle" was probably being generous. The gold Gunpla was just beating down the black one pretty much at will, with the latter practically putting up no fight whatsoever. The howling laughter of Masato could be heard echoing over the clash of metals and plastic. Finally, the Shin Musha Hyaku Shiki seemed to have had enough. It gripped its sword, letting the energy built up explode forth into a pitch black aura from the blade.

"I told you already..." Masato's blood-chilling voice spoke as the golden gunpla picked the other up.

"It's wasted on you!" it hurled the Hayabusa much like in the mission previously. Then it charged forth with full thrusters. In less than a second the aura-coated sword cleaved right through the Hayabusa as if it were nothing.

Takatora found himself on the ground. He was no longer in the field. He was indoors, and on the floor before was the broken remains of the Hayabusa. Then he realized it. The battle wasn't in GBN, but in DP Duel. The Hayabusa was broken for real and completely beyond Takatora's ability to repair it, "Nonononono NO!" he repeated, almost sobbing as he desperately tried to piece together the wrecked Gunpla. He was interrupted when somebody's boot violently kicked him away from the broken pile. He looked up through tearful eyes to see the form of Masato glaring down at him.

"It should have just burned with the builder!" he grunted, a wicked grin forming on his face as he began stomping the pieces of the Hayabusa, shattering them even further.

Takatora awoke in his bed with a jolt. He was sweating, and tears were streaming down his cheeks uncontrollably. He his fearful gaze locked into the Hayabusa standing on his desk nearby. It was in tact, the only battle damage were the scars left behind from Kiyotaka's previous battles, as it should be. Takatora shivered, and then wiped the tears from his eyes and face.

---

Takatora didn't have any classes that day. So he had the whole day to figure out what his next plan would be. He didn't want to log back into GBN, not when there was a chance he would get mobbed by players curious about his relationship to Adam. Or worse, what if he ran into him? Just the thought of facing Masato again so soon left him terrified. Instead he grabbed the gunpla and was now about to walk into Sento's store.

"Welcome!" Sento said, his back currently turned away from the door, "I was wondering when you'd be back, Taka." he still hadn't turned around yet.

"How did you...?"

"I know about what happened yesterday, with Masato. So I had a feeling you'd come back to me."

Takatora swallowed hard, "I need you to train me. Teach me whatever you can about building. I never finished learning from Kiyotaka, so..."

"So you want to be able to fix the Hayabusa should anything happen to it." Sento finished Takatora's sentence, and then offered a small smile, "That won't be a problem. But I'm a little busy at the moment, could we start in a few hours? If you'd like to wait, I have a few GBN terminals in the back. You can use one to log in to pass the time if you want." he pointed to a back room door that Takatora then entered through.

Sure enough, there were some GBN terminals. They weren't exactly like the home versions. These were full on chairs equipped with a VR setup and a built in Gunpla scanner. Takatora climbed into one and fired it up but hesitated a moment, "No, stop being so afraid. I can't let him scare me away from GBN forever..." he told himself before actually logging in.

Once in the lobby, Takatora was quick to get moving. Whatever it took to minimize the chance of other players getting a good look at him. It didn't work for long, "Hey, you're that guy who's friends with Adam Roman!" someone loudly proclaimed, getting the attention of a few others. Just as he feared, Takatora found himself being bombarded with question after question. How did he know Adam? Did he know about the challenge beforehand? Did he know how Adam planned to beat King? It wasn't long before Takatora was overrun.

"Just... just shut up and leave me alone!" he shouted, practically screaming. That caused an awkward silence, but it also gave him a slim chance to escape, and so he ran away as fast as his online legs would take him. Without realizing it he found himself near the reception, having stopped and was now just looking down at the floor. He still hadn't realized that he was standing right front of Isamu and the Meijin.

[User]
"Sup, Taka, Izzy, Akira, Friendless man? Friendless Man. Oh and is that Tanuki over there?"

Miyuki materialized out of nowhere having done a few missions on her own. Oddly she was wearing a Crimson kimono with cherry blossoms on it, which she got from an The spring flower festival event and now is wearing around like it's some sort of special occasion. Though for her this was a special occasion. The testing finished and even if it abuses the physics engine of the game, the Half Cloak passed the satisfaction line with Flying colors. As a certain cake obsessed CEO would say HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HALF CLOAK! It was worth having to tell herself over and over again that sleep was for the weak, in some sort of half crazed mantra that came from sleep deprivation and half a gallon of energy drinks.

"So, what are you all doing?"

[Assistant]
@vancexentan@Double@Keyblade87

---

Isamu gave Akira a giddy smile. The appearance of one of them were good news; that meant the rest had gotten his message as well. When Takahashi appeared grumpy and tad annoyed by his persistence, Isamu only smiled weakly. He didn't know what it was that made people irritable, besides perhaps a shitty father-like his own-but he only wanted to partner up with them. And, Takahashi, was perhaps the first one to ever make an impression on him. He had a subtle reservoir of experience that he was humble about.

"Sorry, Taka. Just thought we could do one of those team ups you were talking about." Isamu shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'm really good at picking days apparently, Meijin wants to do something with us all."

The rest showed one after the other, each receiving a warm greeting from Isamu. "Hey, Takatora, over here. Want to team up today?" Mimi even more so: he ran up to her and stared at her face. Something about it, he was sure that parts of her looked o' so familiar. "Waiting on you slowpoke." A piece of him was disappointed, he had a detailed stream of missions for them to go through today. Meticulously picked to build up there teamwork. That was ruined by the Meijin.

Finally, Daigo put away the blurred screen of menu. It was as if he pulled it out to kill time. The tall man entered their midsts. Like before, Isamu felt subtle strings of insecurities being pulled to the surface. He smiled to hide it, a light excitement to hide the unease. Daigo, scrutinized his expression before turning to everyone else. His menu reappeared and a birds-eye-view of a flat plateau appeared, a torrential ocean on the left of it, a great forest around the rest.

"I've asked a friend to meet us all here. Think you guys can stop being suspicious enough to actually meet me there. The servers special, personally created for someone special. Its called the Lost God's Stoop. Its hard to discover because of 'reasons' and impossible to enter thanks to this next bit of information. You need to be brought in by someone already invited. I'm one of four."

Daigo soothed a crick in his neck by rubbing it. "See you guys in ten."

He vanished, supposedly to the Gunpla holding area to enter his own suit.

Isamu faced them now. "Soooo, fun right?"

[User]
Akira was floored. His first run with his new gunpla and it was in an exclusive server! His mind began reeling and he opened his menus and began pouring over the data for his gunpla making sure everything was in order. Looking up to Isamu he grinned closing the menus again sheepishly.
"That sounds awesome I can't wait!" he said the excitement clear in his voice.

[Assistant] "Wait was he talking about real life, or about here in the virtual world? If its the latter that's considerably less impressive. If its the former...how did he get our real life information?" commented the dull voice of Takahashi as he adjusted his tie, and clothes. Virtual as they may be he still felt the need to fiddle with them from time to time just to make things feel more natural. The virtual world is still quite a bizarre place even after spending so much time in it Takahashi still vastly preferred the real world. "I'm guessing its this world because he said server but you never know. Some people talk weird especially famous meijins with a taste for their own flair...whatever the sooner we get this over with the sooner I can finish Barbatos." Takahashi said without much care as he looked at Akira's hype, and could only sigh. He was probably getting his hopes up for nothing.

[User]
This was the very definition of being stuck between a rock and a hard place. Takatora wasn't particularly keen on hanging out with the Meijin, something about him still rubbed him the wrong way. But it looked like it was either that or stay around in the lobby where some people were still staring at him and others still were whispering in hushed tones. Eventually he rubbed his temples and sighed in some form of defeat. If it meant getting away from the stares, then he'd just have to put up with the Meijin for today.

"Damn it Adam, this is all your fault..." he muttered. Part of him wished Adam hadn't shown up the other day. Sure, it meant Masato would have finished him off but at least Takatora wouldn't be getting all this unwanted attention from random strangers, "Ugh, just... let's get this over with." he grumbled, after a moment vanishing to enter his suit. Whatever it was the Meijin was planning, he hoped it wouldn't take too long. He still had a thing he was supposed to do with Sento later after all.


[System]
Age: Unknown

Race: Asur (High Elf)

Profession: Shadow Warrior of Nagarythe, Elf-for-hire, and expert guerilla combatant

Equipment: A small statue of Loec, a pouch for medical supplies and poisons and another pouch for cooking implements; he arms himself primarily with with a sleek Elven longbow, the sturdy but flexible white wood marked by curving Elvish script, the string made of a single unicorn hair, and a quiver full of steel-tipped arrows resting over his back. His secondary weapon – in the use of which he is no less skilled - is a finely crafted arming sword of Elven make which can be found strapped about his hip and hanging by his side.

As with most Asur, his armour is a mix of a more solid cuirass of burnished metal girding his upper torso, his arms left free to move beneath the light folds of a white and wide-sleeved tunic, his lower body protected by two split flaps of scale armour backed onto leather. Knee-high boots of reinforced leather cover his legs, as a pair of vambraces protect his forearms, a pair of gloves covering his slender hands and a pointed Elvish helm, gaunter and more encompassing of the entire face than the usual Asur helmets, defends his head from blade and arrow. To top it all off, he wears about him like a shroud the ubiquitous blue cloak which flows about his shoulders and covers the lower part of his face beneath his helmet.

(Equally, just take a look here and you'll get a pretty good idea of what he looks like anyway.)

Personality: As with many of his Nagarythi kith and kin, Listec is a bleak and cold-hearted figure with an intense hatred for anything and everything to do with the treacherous Druchii, his hatred for his heinous erstwhile countrymen so intense that it can hardly be overstated.

From this hate comes all else, his bleak outlook on existence, his upbringing as an irregular warrior from the mountain clans of a sunken land, and the reason that even other Asur look upon him with distrust and uncertainty, many of them wondering just how wide the gap between the Elves of Nagarythe and their darker cousins actually is.

In terms of Listec himself the gap is not huge, for he uses the methods of the enemy against them, he feels almost nothing when killing, and he remains silent most of the time – even his eyes showing deep within them the pain of a lost people.

Overall he prefers to remain alone, only joining others when he feels it prudent, far from a conversationalist and keeping silent unless he really needs to speak. When he does speak his words are hard-edged and bitter. This does have the side-effect of making him seem less 'brilliant' than he actually is, his mind as sharp – if not sharper – than any of his kin, centuries of fighting his dark kin throughout the world having made his mind as much a weapon as his bow or sword.

Appearance: Sleek and as androgynous as any other High Elf, he is around six and a half feet in height, his shoulder-length hair as black as a ravens feather, his face all high cheekbones and sharp angles. It is his eyes, almond shaped and almost completely black, that seem the most alien to outsiders – and for good reason – and should one stare too long into the abyss then the abyss stares back.

Bio: Little is known of this particular Elf before the current day, although there are records of a certain Galbriath having taken part in the battles of the Sundering – whether this is the same Elf, a member of the same family/clan, or simply a similarly named individual is unknown, as is most of his history in general.

What is known is that Listec is only one of a number of loyalist Nagarythi who decided that simply remaining in the Shadowlands and fighting off Druchii invasions would help little in the total scheme of things.

With this in mind he left Ulthuan for the wider world, taking a ship as far as Cathay, helping to hunt down Dark Elven corsairs en route – the dark warriors having attacked Cathayan trading routes on numerous occasions - before being hired 'officially' by the benevolent Dragon Emperor to train some of his bodyguard; although not magical as such, like all Shadow Warriors he was able to blend into the darkness as if he were born to it, and this proved most useful indeed when one wished to protect their sovereign.

Moving from the East he travelled back into the West, passing along the Silk Road with an Ogre caravan and helping to fight off Hobgoblin attacks, paid handsomely by the merchant leading it and getting his first taste of payment for services rendered (the Emperor had not paid him in coin, but in Dark Elven heads...).

In the following decades he hired out his services to any and all that would fight the Druchii, travelling to the mystical isle of Albion, to the northern wastes, and eventually to the lands of the Empire.

Catching wind of a gathering of mercenaries, he eagerly goes to see what lies in store.

Reason for joining: A possible chance to kill his most hated foe (Dark Elves get everywhere!), there are High Elf colonies he has never seen and wishes to (such as one on the southern tip of Lustria), and generally he wishes to hone his skills as a warrior. Oh, and gold never hurt anyone either...not really.

Terrible secret: PM'ed to GM

[User]
Baltazar waited, as the wave of norsemen flew over the railings, gritting his teeth as the crewmen were cut down. He hadn't quite expected the deckhands to go down so easily - but then again, he had always considered himself an optimism. The marauders were tall, strong and desperate, but their battle frenzy also gave Baltazar the advantage he needed, as the brutes passed him by where he stood wreathed in shadow. He wasn't some burly marauder who could cleave a man's head from his shoulders in one swing, but even making it a third of the way through was good enough in a fight. A hamstring there, a hip sliced open there, and the norsemen barely noticed before they were trampled by their comrades. With the thunder and screaming drowning out any calls for help, and the slippery deck easily explaining their tumbles, Baltazar easily stayed hidden within his veil of magic as he tore through the rear ranks of the enemy.

But magic's power is fleeting, and the shadows soon pulled away - too soon, and the last few attackers had time to give him a surprised look before he ran his sword over their fingertips, sending them screaming into the waves. Though he was no novice to more mundane means of concealment, Baltazar none the less elected to run for his life, as more of the Norscan raiders began to realize someone was attacking them from behind. Ducking and half-swording his way around the edge of combat, he caught glimpses of where the others were at. Fortune's noble sacrifice had cost them a good warrior, and from what Baltazar could gather, half of the rest were preoccupied trying to keep the young knight alive.

For his own part, he maintained a death grip on his sword and tried to remember everything he'd been taught about fighting multiple opponents. The Norscans were an accommodating foe, their combination of axe and shield being clumsy at best for a cluttered shipboard fight. Simply step aside, wait until their shields bump into something, and strike. Even a towering Norscan couldn't parry a quick sword thrust with an axe, and whenever he found the time and space, he would stop his chase and go for another one of his attacker - by the time he had killed two, he realized he had made it all the way around the ship. Up ahead were his own "lines" such as they were, and a rapid slash against an unprotected back allowed him to rejoin his allies.

Baltazar found a place next to a couple of the fighting crewmen, using the respite to survey the battle. Overall, it seemed they had put quite a dent in the Norscan forces, even if some of their own fighters were getting winded. The elder Bretonnian stood surrounded by an impressive mound of corpses, all slain in open combat no less - Baltazar would have to remember to heave his own victims overboard later, before that mound of Norscans with mortal back wounds raised any eyebrows. Staring down what remained of the horde, he called out for the crew to rally and push the enemy off the ship, once and for all.

[Assistant]
As he scrambled up the side of the ship, fighting against the waves, the wind, the biting cold that was sapping his strength and the slippery planks underfoot, Fortune feared that this might have been the end for him... and he was somewhat annoyed that the story of Fortune De Vigny would end so soon, dying to save a maiden was... acceptable.

These morbid thoughts died the moment something strong started to pull the rope up, aiding his own efforts greatly. Fortune didn't look back as he heard the sound of wood crashing against wood below as he climbed/was pulled up onto the deck... and received a clipped ear from the grumpy dwarf that had helped to save his life. While a little degrading, Brokk had pulled his ass out of the fire and there were more important things currently on Fortune's mind... such as the very large Norscan raiders that were still on the ship and freezing to death as his icy wet clothing clung to him tightly.

He also had to deal with the issue that his sword and shield were currently below deck, out of harms way... Which would require him to get passed the raiders in the way.

Not wishing to be unarmed right now, Fortune looked down at the weapon that a nearby dead Norscan had dropped... It didn't look demonic (and if it was he suspected that this raid would have gone in a completely different direction to begin with) and right now any weapon was better then none at all; At least he could die fighting. Attempting to (and failing) to fight the shivers that were running through out his body and causing his jaw to chatter, Fortune seized the axe and took a moment to try and get a feel for it's weight. For someone who was used to using a sword or a spear, a battle axe was a weird weapon to try and wield and it to both himself and anyone watching that he was somewhat clumsy with the weapon... but it was better then nothing if he was backed into a corner.

"Thank you for saving me. I'm going to go and get my sword and shield. Happy hunting to you." Was all he said to Brokk as Fortune darted away towards the door that would lead into the ship, taking care to not slip or trip on the slippery surface of the water, blood and corpse covered deck. He was tried, sore, actively fighting (and slowly losing) against the elements and he was wielding a class of weapon he wasn't familiar with without armor to help make up for gaps his mistakes would no doubt cause... At least if he could get his sword and shield he could at least give a halfway decent fight.

[User]
Listec muttered something in Tar-Eltharin as he loosed off three more arrows from his bow in rapid succession, lamenting the fact that these hairy-arsed Norscans were not the Druchii he would have preferred to have been fighting. Nevertheless, a raider was a raider and he was here at this moment in time; it was with professional interest that he watched the others fight, from the cleaving but proficient swings of Jehan to the more Tilean-like movements of Baltazar, pointedly ignoring the Dwarfs simply because he had seen them fight – and fought against them – many times before.

Before long the Marienburger was shouting something at those about him, rallying them and galvanising them against the brutal fore no less! His words seeming to steel the more wavering members of the ships crew, a call to drive the Norscans from the ship entirely and drive them back into the ocean.

Having been knelt down by the railing all this time, he only just realised that a possibly greater prize lay only a few feet over the sides...the Norscan longboat. All about him the Empire ship was beginning to sink, fire shining from the mast, and people spilling their lifeblood into the wood of the decks – yet just beyond their reach was a perfectly functional vessel, seaworthy and guarded by what remained of a skeleton crew now that most of the pirates had made their ways up and over onto the sodden deck.

Either this would see him cut off their retreat and secure them an escape craft, or it would see him dead...

Taking a number of slow breaths into his lungs and exhaling again, making sure the longbow was securely placed over his torso, he slid over the railing and began to make his way down to the deck of the Norscan ship, half dropping and half falling the final couple of feet but landing on the enemy vessel with barely a sound – this was due to both his natural agility and the raucous collective of screams, shouts and thunder all around them.

One look told him that he may have gotten into more of a problem than he could handle, the skeleton crew he had expected being over a dozen men, but their attention was drawn more to the battle above them than to the one figure half-swathed in gloom that came from the rear of their boat to end them.

The first died without a sound, a younger human with fuzzy hair upon his pubescent face, two arms coming up and wrenching his head about in a whip-like fashion, the sound of snapping vertebrae caught and carried away by the wind. Listec let the body slump to the curved floor of the ship, drawing his bastard-sword from the sheath at his waist and lowering it into what the Humans called a 'plow' stance – the hilt held near the hip joint and the tip pointing at the throats or chest of the enemy.

As it was he had a selection of backs turned toward him, and they would do just as well as anything else.


[System]
Titles: Emissary and Champion of the Winter Court

Affiliation: Highborn to the Winter Court, born into a lower family of Nobility. His position of nobility was raised upon his revival from the dead.

Gender: Male

Age: 89 (26 years alive, 56 years dead, 7 years undead.)

Birthplace: Cannala

Origin: The tale of the Dullahan from Irish Folklore, also known as the Headless Rider.

Race: Undead Fae

Appearance: (A Picture will come soon enough, but for now, a detailed description.) Nikolai Pelletier is an above average man in height, weight, and build. He has no remarkable traits such as beautiful eyes, golden locks of hair, or strange skin color. Except for one minor detail. Nikolai has no head. Well, not on his shoulders anyway. He carries his head on his waist in a glass case. The case is ornately designed to ensure that his head doesn't look ugly while he totes it about. The trim around it is made of polished brass with silver inlay. The portion of his neck that is severed has a silk cloth laid across it and is tied in place by gold lace. The case is attached to his waist by a chain of steel, coated in silver to give it a more high class look. When he truly wishes to hide his undead-ness, he will cover the case in a square of chainmail. This hides his head from those around him.

His body is reasonably fit, about as fit as you would expect a soldier to be. Where his neck would connect to his head there is another piece of silk held in place by a length of gold lace, this keeps him from showing his insides to those that he converses with. It makes diplomacy a bit easier. His skin is a bit pale, but nothing unnatural.

Adorning his form is a suit of classy armor, the armor of nobility of course. It is a suit of hybrid mail with a mix of chain and plate to give a full range of protection. It is made from damascus steel, forged in a crucible and then hammered across a mold of his body. The suit was forged specifically for him, making his movements significantly more natural while wearing it. To make discussion with others even easier, he had a special helmet forged. This helmet attaches to his back and chest, rather than his shoulders. This allows him to turn the helmet to substitute natural movement. It makes him more alive than he really is.

His head is a normal humanoid head, though with several fae traits. (Which is understood, as he is a fae, not a human.) His head is rather angular with a pointed jawline. His eyes are closed, though his eye color is hazel. The hair on his head is relatively short and well kept, his hair color is dark brown. His nose is a bit long but not unattractively large. His ears are pointed at the top and his lobes are a bit long.

Nikolai himself stands at 6'7" and weighs 212 lbs.

Occupation: A diplomat from the Winter Court, serving as Queen Mab's personal champion for duels and to accompany her to potentionally dangerous events.

Resources:
- Hand Forged Armor: A suit of armor specially forged for him, ordered by Queen Mab herself to be made. It is a simple suit of armor that can be concealed under clothing or worn openly.

- Cavalry Sabre: A three foot long blade with a sizeable crossguard, it is a simple and elegantly curved blade. Perfectly suited for combat on the ground and on horseback. Made from steel, its handle is made from yew and is coated in cattle hide.

- Combat Lance: Unlike the lances seen in jousting competitions, this lance is designed for true mounted combat. It is a deadly sharp length of metal with a cross shaped tip, it is brutally efficient at punching holes in his foes. It is an oak lance, measuring seven feet long from tip to pommel. The tip is made from steel, stone sharpened and adding another seven inches to the weapon. It is unweildy when not on horseback.

- Reasonable wealth: His social status allows him to earn money passively, though his job is high risk, it actually doesn't involve much more than him riding about on his horse and occasionally mounted combat. He constantly has money to pay for room and board, food, and the like. It is a good living, albeit a simple one.

- Pheidippides: Nikolai's trusty horse. A massive war horse, standing at 24 hands.(8 feet tall.) This horse is a monstrous stallion, towering over man, elf, and fae alike. Its coat is charoal and mottled with white splotches, its mane is a deep black with a beautiful gloss. Its eyes are intense, shining and hazel like his rider's own. Pheidippides is as high bred as you can get when it comes to horses. He can haul a four horse cart on his own, able to pull three tons of weight behind himself.

Pheidippides is a 228 stone horse. (3,000 lbs.) Tremendously strong and fiercely loyal, Pheidippides refuses any rider but Nikolai. Bucking them off with an intensity unmatched by lesser horses. Pheidippides is not the fastest horse in the world by any stretch, but he is significantly faster than any human. Able to gallop at 38 mph, canter at 15 mph, trot at 10, and walk at 5. Pheidippides has great stamina, most horses can only gallop for short bursts. He, however, can gallop for three solid hours before even showing signs of exhaustion.

However, Pheidippides's greatest shortcoming is his own size. Pheidippedes has joint problems due to his weight, extended periods of riding without rest can leave him exhausted and worthless for riding. His hooves must be filed daily, otherwise they turn rough and painful for him.

Skills:

- Diplomat: As the emissary from the Winter Court he is required to be skilled in diplomatic ventures. His specialties are interrogation, intimidation, and parties.

- Rider: What? He's a headless horseman. He's skilled at riding horses.

- Soldier: Upon being raised from the dead, post him learning of his killer's death, Nikolai joined the military and swiftly jumped through ranks. Of course later being promoted to Champion and Emissary through a long series of events that would take a while to record.

Personality: Nikolai is a cynic by trade and a racist by hobby, as a nobleman of the Fae-kind he holds himself in a much higher standing than other 'lesser' races. Humans, elves, and other kinds are lesser to Fae in his eyes. However, he is a professional, and never lets his personal view of others obscure his thoughts. Outside of his duties he is still an uptight and generally unpleasant person to be around.

Biography: The tale of the Dullahan isn't a story with a "Long long ago." or a "And they lived happily ever after." It's simply a tale of a man who lost his head in an argument, and then lost his head in the following fight. With death fresh on his collar and fury fresh on his lips, he was not so bound to the grave as normal men would be. The horseman rose from the grave to seek vengeance, but he was too late. Now he roams the earth, seeking purpose in mortal lands as one no longer among the living.

[User]
Tori

Tori wasn't surprised when she was approached by a Faeborn. She studied the elf, sure she had never come across him. Graunted, she had met a lot of Faeborn in her time in the Summer Court, and she hadn't spent a large amount of time there in anycase. Mostly, it had just been a learning experience rather then a social visit.

it didn't surprise her that he knew who she was though. While she was training ner own senses, she hadn't been successful at being able to sense the magic and power inside others just yet. She wasn't aware that it was possible to determine which Court she was aligned with, nor had she been aware that hers reseambled her mothers.

She curtsied as Lucien introduced himself, keeping her eyes on his, and not looking down nor away. She knew it was incredibly likely that Lucien knew her story, and was aware that the fact he asked was simply a game, she smiled. She had learned pretty quickly that the Fae enjoyed games, and enjoyed tricking or manipulating people.

"yes, Lord Lucien, my mother wished me to be away from the Courts as I grew up. She thought that it was better for me to live with my father, and therefore be able to interact with humans more effectively then most Fae." She could play the word game as well. She had learned that quite quickly. She shrugged at his question about why she would be walking the streets like a commoner.

she appeared thoughtful, as if it was a hard question to answer. "although my reasons are mostly personal, the easiest way to answer that is that I straddle both worlds. Human and Fae. I enjoy being in both words, and I decided that in order to maintain both aspects of my heritage, that by maintaining a commoner position in the human world, I can be more valuable to the Summer Court"

she smiled, and gave a laugh, "I am sorry, Lord Lucien, I forgot my mannors. I should introduce myself properly. I am indeed my mothers Daughter. My name is Tori" she deliberately left off her last name, knowing that names, when spoken by the owner, were power.

[Assistant]
While the processions of Alexandria roared behind him, Baleno was involved with a fine sword until the merchant told him its price. Gritting his teeth out of embarrassment of having to decline the purchase and disgust at how high he was charging, Baleno grudgingly placed the weapon back on its rack. It was a shame that such a glorious blade cost so much. He was sure that it would be put to proper use in his hands and not that of the aristocrat that could afford it. Baleno wished a good day to the merchant and turned to leave his stall. That was when he came face to face with his wishes.

The recruiter's offer was like music to his ears, a mischievous smirk sculpting his lips. All he needed to peak his curiosity was the word prince. And to think that he didn't even have to go far to find a need for his services. There wasn't a chance in hell that Baleno would decline the offer. Before opening his mouth to accept, he shot his eyes back at the sword he was marveling. Blessed with another job it seemed, the coin that Baleno required to get the weapon was as far away from him as his feet were from his knees. Sure a bit of labor was required but it wasn't like Baleno couldn't cut his way to another payday.

"I humbly accept the honor if it is to be mine," Baleno responded to the recruiter, tilting his torso in a slight bow of respect and gratefulness. "And I prefer women, thank you, " he sarcastically added with his own flavor of bold humor.

While Baleno appreciated the offer he knew that no job came without competition. Even if he were to gain acceptance into the ranks of such high nobility, a service that carried more stability than any of his previous ventures, he knew that he would be fighting not only next to some fine warriors but against them for recognition. As a man who sought profession at every angle, Baleno was fully prepared to do what it took to stand apart from the rest. He had his invitation so now he needed to secure it. Already aware of the upcoming fighting competitions, his next move was to gain access to the Keep. Since he was a foreigner he wasn't formally acquainted with the social order of Alexandria. He didn't want to march straight in to the Keep yet without first obtaining clearance.

"Excuse me, sir," he addressed the recruiter, "but I have also been led to believe that a tournament is coming up. Do you know for certain where I may enlist myself for such an event?"

His aim was still to show what he was made of. He hadn't walked all the way from the Olympus Imperium just to become another grunt. He needed status to accompany his profit. Drawing the blood of others was the easiest way for him to obtain both.

[User]
A cold chill on his shoulder was nothing to a man who feels nothing but the icy grip of death constantly, though the chill was familiar. The Snow Queen was a frequent of Mab's "parties" and often seen consorting with her and the upper class of Winter Court. Viona apparently only recognized the champion as the champion, and not as someone she had met before. Fortunate, that means that he won't have to converse with her in the future. Unless some dire circumstance were to befall her or her posse.

Viona is quite evidently the sort who enjoys manipulating people through clever wordplay, and Nikolai is quite aware of this sort of manipulation. As she attempted to ensnare his interests it was becoming abundantly clear that she at least knew how Nikolai felt about the lesser races. However, she was apparently unaware of his views on senseless violence. This would have visibly agitated the headless man, if his face was visible. Which it is not, as he is headless.

"I am certain that your frigid escort serves as sufficient protection. Unless you believe he is some mere sprite, without the bite and vigor to engage in single combat." The head inside of his case smirked, the chain covering hid the emotion from the Snow Queen. "And that would be unseamly rude to your companion, wouldn't it, Lady Viona? You wouldn't want to offend him, to be sure."


[System]
"Gunpla? Sure, I'm in love with the sport."

---
Age: 16

Year: 1st Year

School: Ichikawa

Personality:  * (+) Instinctive
* (+) Dutiful
* (+) Determined
* (-) Selfish
* (-) Reckless
* (-) Unstable

Background: Natsu Saisei is the younger of two, trailing behind his elder brother by a gaping ten years. His childhood was normal, often invisible to most because of his introversion. He found a love for Gunpla battling at a young age, mostly due to his elder brother's obsession with it. But it was there that they found a connection through Gunpla that bypassed the usual jealousy of siblings. It produced a humble, sincere appreciation for their faults and skills. When his elder brother was diagnosed with lung cancer ... that changed. Natsu began to harbor guilt for hating his elder brother. But who else could he blame for all the pain and anxiety that plagued him now? Questions that poisoned his mind now. When will Yuma die? Is he already dead? How does cancer even work? If nothing else, Natsu had recognized his own chaotic thoughts and emotions. His anger and abundant love for his brother: Yuma, clashed violently inside him, numbing him to everything besides these three things. Yuma Saisei, Gunpla, and his damaged mentality.

Battling/Building Ability: Natsu has no building ability at all. Perhaps his greatest flaw is his unwillingness to learn the basics of repairing or building. When asked why, he simply shrugs his shoulders and walks away. The truth is a bit more difficult to hear. Since his childhood he had relied on his elder brother, Yuma, to build and repair his Gunplas. After his brother was diagnosed with lung cancer from his horrible smoking habit, Natsu had been denying the harsh reality that his brother may die by relying heavily on his exceptional building skills. Telling his brother, "You can't die with a gift like this, Yuma." As for his battling skills, let's just say he's put all his pain and free time into mastering Echo Barbatos. It connects himself and his brother in a way not many can grasp.

Mobile Suits:
-Name: Nu-Build Echo Barbatos Rex (Echo Barbatos)
-Description: A lightly modded version of the Barbatos Lupus Rex frame; Nu-Build Echo Barbatos Rex is a sleeker, immaculate construct with parts taken from the admirable Nu-Gundam. Dubbed the Echo Barbatos, the build has these armaments.
* ->>> Weapons

	+ Two beam sabers. One of average length, the other shorter. (Right hip, placed vertically.)
	+ Tail Blade w/ closed-ranged particle blaster. (Tucked away on its lower back.)
	+ Yuma's Echo System (YES) System. (Its speed and agility are extreme allowing for it to produce afterimages and complicated maneuvers. The secret to this however, is the slight, ever-so subtle shift, in its all white color when moving at high-speeds.)

"You taught me to love Gunpla battles."

[User]
"Yo Chiaki!" Nanashi called as he gestured to out side, the girl nodding and following him outside.

---

The two sat on a bench outside, water bottles in hand. "So, Nashi, you seem to be the same as always."

Nanashi chuckled. "Look whos talking, I had to get you outside and away from your team to get you to say a nickname. Chi-chan has always been so formal around people." He said the last part with a fake sigh. "So, thoughts?"

Chiaki took a gulp of her drink before responding. "Well out of our three teams, Team Chaser probably has is the favorite to get into the top of regionals this year."

"Although?" Nanashi asked, clearly expecting more. Nanashi had known her long enough to know when she had more to say.

"Although, the team from Karasato isn't that far behind them, track record wise. Both teams over the years have been in the finals of their own local tournaments." She finished as she stood up and began to head to the gym. "Our 30 minutes are almost up up. We should head back." She said as she walked backwards before stopping. "Say, I'm kinda curious why you decided to join the tournament. You kinda suck at battling y'know." She said teasingly.

Nanashi frowned, heading back to the gym. "It's cause master said that I could win. And I want to prove to everyone he's right." He said without looking back.

---

Inside Nanashi returned, Walking up to his team with a paper in hand. "Yo guys! I got the line ups for today!" He said as he beckoned everyone to gather around. "Ok, our first fight is with the Karasato Group, so it's gonna be tricky. We don't really have any info on their members or Gunpla right now so we're going in blind." He said as he showed them the bracket, the other teams @Dezuel acquiring them at the same time.

[Assistant]
"Ah, so I get to pummel that trash talker first?" asked Sousuke with a smile that made it hard to tell if he was serious or not, "Suits me just fine. Oh, by the way, if we face Chaser next then it sounds like you'll get to head to head with Sakuya. Asaka's almost certain to target me and Natsu-kun here said he would take on Tsukasa. So that'll leave Sakuya as your dance partner." Sousuke tipped his hat, then retrieved the Crossbone Joker from its case. Sure enough, Shouji had come through and the Joker was it's usual shiny-new self.

"Not a bad shine, there, Shouji." Sousuke mused, then put the gunpla back in its carrier. It looked like the only thing left to do was to wait for the shindig to get started.

---

"So, we're facing the Nobuya team first?" asked Keiichiro, having just been handed the line up, "You better not lose, Kikkawa. Not before you and I settle things." he muttered under his breath. Despite the constant accusations of holding a petty grudge, that wasn't really on Keiichiro's mind at all. There was something else he wanted from Kikkawa, something more valuable than settling a petty score. But before Keiichiro could focus on that, it looked like Team Chaser would have to go through Nobuya Academy first.

"Team Chaser," said Keiichiro, looking dead serious. His partners both approached and awaited his next words, "it's finally time. Move out!" they both turned abruptly and flanked their captain as the team made its way to the area where they would soon be facing their first opponent.

---

Up in the stands, among those who came to watch the battles, a single figure stood out a bit more than most. He was a student, but not from any of the participating schools. No, he was there as a scout, primarily. This practice tournament would make a good opportunity to observe the upcoming competition. It was true he had traveled a fair distance to attend, but the intel he would inevitably gather was well worth it. He dressed nicely, wearing what could be described as his school's uniform - though it was quite a bit more formal, almost like a business suit more than a school uniform. He had snow white hair, and small oval glasses. Suddenly the student heard a low whistle coming from behind him.

"So this is that practice tourney, eh? Man, you sure go the distance to learn about your opponents." it was another student who had entered not long ago and then sat next to the first. Unlike the first, this one was dressed completely casually. He wore tight-fitting jeans, a forest camo hoodie with a black t-shirt underneath it. Unlike the first student, who's hair was shorter and cleanly kept. This second student had blaring red hair, almost certainly dyed that way. It was also kept more wildly, some kind of lion's mane.

"I'm surprised you even showed up, after all this particular assignment isn't required of you." the first student spoke in a much more business-like etiquette than the second, who spoke casually to a fault.

"Meh..." the second student shrugged, "...I had nothing better to do. Besides, call it... morbid curiosity." the second student smiled in a way that could only be described as sinister.

"Just don't go causing any trouble, Kusaka. We're here on behalf of our sponsor, and make no mistake there will be consequences if your antics cost Team Shuffle its sponsorship." the first student said, quickly and in a subtly threatening tone.

"Tch, whatever. Just watch and nothing more, I get it." replied the second student - Kusaka, in a miffed tone.

[User]
Syo tightened his hands into fists after having seen who they were being put up against. "Yes! Going to destroy that kid..." He grinned and took out his box where he kept his gunpla. The Berserk Ignited.

He wandered over to where the practice fight was going to take place and got into position. Taking his gunpla out of it's box and placing it. Soon after Kayl and Ternal both walked up. Kayl took his own box out of his sidebag, placing the mostly red gunpla, the Shinzaku at the ready. Finally Ternal opened his dark briefcase, within it he had three different gunpla aswell as spare parts for them. Then to the side he had a white face mask which he touched briefly with his hand but left it be. He grabbed his hand at the large orange gunpla, the Destiny Extended. Which he lined up next to the other two already placed.

"Say your prayers kid." Syo said in a manner which could be heard to the other side. It was obviously intended for Sousuke. Kayl winched to this but did not intervene this time, he had to focus and be ready for the coming fight. He threw a sideway glance to Ternal, the latter was not nervous the slighest.

Despite this being the first time he steps out in the open like this he isn't nervous the slighest. I, who have been fighting alot be feeling at least something. These guys will be good. A fair challenge. I am nervous but also thrilled. There is going to be three gunpla I have never seen before in this fight for certain. Kayl readied himself with intense focus in his eyes. They waited until everyone had taken their place, all three of their opponents.

"Kayl Lanzer of the Karasato gunpla club, Shinzaku launching!"

"Syo Morisaki, Berserk Ignited. Shred everything to pieces!"

"This is Ternal Dawning, Destiny Extended taking off."

[Assistant]
* * * April 28th * * *

Natsu had said little in response to Nanashi's news. He had been focusing on Tsukasa, expecting to slaughter her plans with instinct and resolve alone but Karasoto would do as well. He could easily change his targets to any one of those showoffs. Whether it be the feeble, Syo, craven, Kayl, or the cheesy, Tarnal; one by one they would fall to the king of monsters: his gunpla, Echo Barbatos.

"Time is fleeing. Less not waste anymore," said Natsu in a very different tone. It was deep and hollow, a cold cavern beneath the earth.

At the arena he knelt to the floor, slipping his bookbag from his shoulder, as he pulled Echo Barbatos from its pouch. Normally he would have had its case but that morning had been froth with emotions. In short, he had forgotten it. The sleek, all-white, Gunpla looked lifeless but he felt a heartbeat inside its plastic. He touched it to his forehead. I want to rampage on the field ... Please, let me. I'm tired of feeling helpless ... and guilty. Let me feel strength and power now.

Natsu placed Echo Barbatos down, set his GP base, and spoke far too low for it to matter. "Saisei deploying, roar and go, Echo Barbatos."


[System]
SPECIES
Nymph
AGE
10
HEIGHT AND WEIGHT
4'6" 75 pounds
BIO
Clover
The spirit of a young patch of clover, she has never left her forest, and has always been content to stay near the patch of clover which she protects. But as she has aged, she has found that straying from her home plant is not as difficult as she had always been told, as clover can easily spread, and so she has taken it upon herself to explore and protect her home, hoping to one day be chosen by the goddess as a true keeper of the forest. She keeps a small amount of fresh clover with her at all times, and will occasionally replant it, and nurture it, so that her home plant is always with her if she ever needs it.

[User] Clover walked over to the cups, and tilted her head in confusion. What was this odd cloud coming from the mug? Placing her hand through the steam, she gazed in awe at the new substance, which felt warm to the touch. Turning to Lilith, she intended to ask what this sorcery was. But suddenly she was stricken. She stood motionless, petrified by what she saw. The Red Death. The forest killer. Being fed by the woman she wished to befriend. As if she...trusted it.

[Assistant]
Lilith could feel the tension behind her and turned around to see Clover's horrified expression. She wanted to kick herself for not realizing she was housing a nymph, so of course she's be afraid of fire. Now she had done it. The nymph would run away and she'd lose a potential guild member...of course her luck would run out if she kept pushing it.

"Y-you don't have to worry!" Lilith stuttered, sweating up a storm "it's a controlled fire! It won't leave this little box because stone isn't flamable...y-you know? I'm only lighting it to keep the sleeping members warm since night's about to fall and I'm not strong enough to drag them to their rooms..."

Lilith gulped and tried not to cry "please...don't leave."

[User]
It took Clover a moment to work up the courage to speak.

"So...so long as I do not have to go near the forest killer...I will stay..."

She made herself look back at the cup hoping the wonder she had so recently been feeling would return and fill her with joy again. It didn't.

"It...takes the powerful magic of stone to keep plants safe from the red death...are...are you a sorceress?"

She looked back at the woman, sheepishly raising her head in hopes that communication would soothe the poor sad dear.

[Assistant] "Ah...a witch, actually. I make potions and stuff and fly on a broom." She shyly stated, gesturing to the broom she used to reach the first aid kit. "I'm um...not very good yet since I don't any books on magic, so I make a better rouge since I'm small...and quiet."

[User]
"Oh, I have met a few forest witches in my time. Very nice people, very kind to the forest-kin."

She gave a more genuine smile.

"You can control the Red Death. Though it seems 'not very good' to you, that is quite the incredible feat in my eyes!"

[Assistant]
Lilith wanted to say that it had nothing to do with magic, it just had to do with knowing what was and wasn't flammable, but she was afraid shed hurt the nymph's feelings or confuse her, so she decided to stay quiet. The little witch then wandered over to the table where she set her tea and took a sip; it was lukewarm now.

"Well, rats...barley tea really does taste better cold." she paused, kicking her feet, "I'm thinking I should invest in getting a familiar."

[User]
Clover watched the witch, and mimicked her actions. This...tea thing wasn't half bad.

"A familiar? Is that one of those...animal companions?"

[Assistant] "I can help make you're tea colder, I think if I can pull of that rite again its been a while." *Sarrai'a said as she pulled out a old leather bound book that she started flipping through looking for the symbols she needs to visualize to perform the rite needed*

[User]
"Yeah, you know...like a cat or an owl, or maybe a snake." Lilith replied. "But they cost a lot of money to summon, and this guild hasn't exactly been bringing in the cash for a long while, so that dream is going to take a while."

She sighed, tapping her mug and gazing at the skull on the table. He'd surely be surprised when he woke up.

Lilith's ears perked up when she heard Saarai'a's comment, and she spun around to face her with glittering eyes that held a childish wonder.

"Can you do that? That's so cool!" she gushed before realizing her rudeness in not offering a Saarai'a a drink as well.

"Hold on, let me go fetch you one so we can all be refreshed!" Lilith cheered before darting into the kitchen.

[Assistant] *Sarrai'a paused to think for a moment as to what to use to help chill the drink as her claws would be less dangerous, but her hybrid form might frighten her new pack, but her short sword could lead to more damage, but would be easier to chill multiple glasses on, with that in mind she unsheathed her short sword and placed it on the table before placing the cup on the sword and slicing her thumb on the sword which formed ruins and frosted over giving of a cold mist* "That should chill the tea quite nicely."

[User]
Lilith returned from the kitchen with a piping hot mug of tea in her hand, only to see a thin veil of ice had formed over her drink.

"Well, that certainly cooled it alright..."

[Assistant] "Sorry about that, this rite is meant for combat so it doesn't really have a mild setting, or if there is one I am not sure how to use it." *The cut on her thumb remaining quite open and giving off a similar glow to the sword*

[User] "Hm." Lilith paused, cupping her chin, "perhaps you should just drink this hot."

[Assistant] "Perhaps so, well I guess the rite was worth a shot." *She slid her thumb along the blade of the short sword as she did so the glow stopped and the ruins flowed back to her thumb and when she pulled her thumb away the cut had closed*

[User]
Lilith's eyes went wide when she saw the wound close on it's own, she sure was making friends with people with strange magic. It was strange, though...she sure didn't look like a cleric or paladin.

"Are you a healer?" Lilith asked innocently.

[Assistant] *Sarrai'a smiled knowing that her order is not commonly know of* "Beyond a basic understanding of medicinal plants not really, the order that I was part of previously were a group of demon hunters that called ourselves blood hunters. My practice of blood magic is rudimentary but it is enough to create the rite you just saw, as well as a rite of fire. The closest thing to healing I can do is force poisons out of a person's blood but the process is not exactly painless as I have to magically force the poison out versus simply neutralizing it."

[User]
Clover watched in awe as the woman closed her own wound. This wolf-kin was powerful! But the real question brewing in her mind...

"What did happen to your finger that caused such a deep cut...?"

[Assistant] "I cut myself on my sword, I have to have access to my blood to perform my rites, and due to the magic infused within my blood the cuts I inflict on myself are often deeper then would normally occur."

[User]
Blood magic spilled through the air and the overpowering stench of magic (discernible only to Artorius) roused him from his slumber. His eyes burned like coals once again and the skull began to chatter within the confines of Lilith's robes.

"I SMELL POWERFUL MAGICS!" The muffled voice rang out from behind a layer or two of fabric, "LILITH LET ME HAVE A LOOK AT THIS NEWCOMER!"

[Assistant] *Sarrai'a jumped back, ready to pounce as a voice came from a location with no scent attached to it*

[User]
With a leap that could have sent her into the branches of a tree, Clover looked with wide eyes at the small witch.

"I thought you said that you did not have a familiar! What is in your robes??"

[Assistant] "Yes, boss!" Lilith replied, releasing him on command. She was real happy that he was awake now that he could see what a good job she had done when it came to recruiting new members today.

[User] *Sarrai'a shook her head in suprise at hearing Lilith call this voice boss, whom ever this voice was coming from they must be quite a warrior to hold a position higher then the last surviving member of Grayfall and then noticing the skull that came from with in Lilith's robes paused in curiosity* "Lilith, does this skull truly hold higher sway within Grayfall."

[Assistant] Now convinced that Lilith was a better witch than she gave herself credit for, Clover took a few steps closer. Not only did she control that which killed forests, she could bring death back to life! What powerful magic!

[User] "Well, kinda?" Liith replied, placing Artorius on the table. "He's like an administrator, I guess? Anyway, he's been here a lot longer that I have, and I wasn't very high up the pecking order initially."

[Assistant] "Ah so he helps run the guild, and Lilith besides...the skull, you are longest standing member among those of us who just joined, and are able to enforce decisions made and take care of what needs to be done, and based off what I've seen are quite skilled at keeping this guild running and are able to go out and do jobs for the guild, so as far as I'm concerned you are the alph... leader."

[User]
That was a new word. Guild. What did it mean? Clover tried to think back to any other time that she might have heard this word, but none came to mind.

"What is guild?"

Unaccustomed to social circles, she did not know that interrupting was not looked fondly upon, nor did she even realize that this was an inopportune time to chime in.

[Assistant] *Sarrai'a pauses and looks over at the nymph* "A guild is a group that brings people together for a common cause.....like a pack if you will."

[User]
"Well I could do a whole lot more if I just had a body..." Artorius commented almost longingly, "The previous guildmaster was such a prude about that. Now that Lilith is in charge, perhaps a change of attire is in order? Ehehehehehe! Any volunteers?" The skull cackled out. "In any event, you've gathered quite a motley crew here! Perhaps we could re-open the quest log? Although perhaps I'm getting a-HEAD of myself" He paused a moment to chatter at his own joke.

"The guild hall is looking rather... dumpy if I may say so. Perhaps we can get our sorcerous friends to raise a hammer and get this place back in functioning order. Or you could head to the nearby village and outsource some work, although I'm sure they'd want something in return. Or perhaps you could come up with a more... creative way to get this place back up and running. If you can just get the basic structure back in tact, I can work my magic (quite literally) and maintain the building almost cost free! (almost)"

[Assistant]
Lilith's eyes went predatory once she locked on to Clover who had shown genuine curiosity in the inner-workings of the guild. If there was any time to strike, it would be now.

"We're basically like one big happy family...that takes on jobs and protects people. You can join...if you like." She had another contract in her bag, just in case.

[User]
Clover looked at the witch. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity, and with hope. Maybe this would be the way that she could gain the favor of the goddess!

"What does joining entail?"

[Assistant] *Sarrai'a stepped closer to the skull looking closely at it as she had never seen magic of this kind before* "So did you have a body before, the magic that made you like this was placed on you...." *She pauses realizing that she forgot to even introduce herself or ask the skull its name* "I'm terribly sorry I forgot to introduce myself, my name is Sarria'a, its....nice to meet the oldest....member of greyfall."

[User]
"Well... now oldest!" Artorius spoke "Ahh see Lilith, this one has manners! I like this one!"

"My name is Artorius, and don't you know it's rude to ask a disembodied head about his body (or lack thereof)?! EHeheheheheh!" The skull laughed relentlessly, he seemed almost giddy. "You wield a very strange magic.. it smells..." Artorius paused for a moment, "sniffing" the air, "it smells primal, feral. A wildling no doubt, you shall make a powerful ally and a terrible enemy. Just keep those fangs away from dear Lilith here and we'll be all set."

[Assistant] "I made a promise when I was given this power of mine never to use it to harm those that are innocent, as such you have my word that no harm will come to Lilith by my hand."

[User]
Lilith huffed a little at the mention of calling the guild she worked so hard to maintain all by herself "dumpy" but on the other hand, she couldn't argue. They didn't even have a door anymore. Her heart warmed a little hearing Artorius call her "dear Lilith", especially since he was the only friend she had left.

"Well...first things first, we need to fix this place up, but after that we'd do quest work to earn money."

[Assistant]
Clover looked around. Yes, this place could use more color. Green, namely.

"Well, I would be more than willing to help, if i would be of any use!"