[System]
Age: 28

Class: Fighter/Captain

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Appearance: Raikon is a tall, well built man. Standing at 6'2" and weighing 220lbs he is an imposing figure to behold while on the battlefield. His intimidating size is mitigated by a very kind face, constant genuine smile, and expressive green eyes. He has bright red hair cut short on the sides and left slightly longer on top, with side burns that connect to his beard, which is well kept and trimmed. His hands and forearms are marked by a smattering of scars from years of battle, others, more serious, are hidden under his armor and clothing.

Character Perk: Optimistic Leader- Raikon tries to see the best in everything, and always finds a ray of hope to guide him. He inspires his comrades to action, providing a resistance to intimidation, fear, and mental spell effects to them and himself.

Character Flaw: Sore Loser- When things don't go his way Raikon can have a hard time letting go, often trying to gain victory even when defeat is already assured. Others will have to force him to stand down, even if it means injury or death.

----------

Alignment: Chaotic Good

STR: 16
DEX: 12
CON: 14
INT: 10
WIS: 12
CHA: 14

Abilities:

Unshakable- Raikon is an experienced veteran and does not lose his composure in the midst of battle. He cannot be flanked unless it is from behind.

Quick Draw- Raikon can switch between his weapons and shield almost instantly, never losing a step in battle.

Last Stand- If Raikon were to receive a mortal blow, he may take one last offensive action before becoming incapacitated.

Skills:

Diplomacy (60)
Intimidate (20)
Sense Motive (60)
Perception (40)
Survival (20)

Spells: Raikon has no inherent magical ability.

Armor: Raikon wears a padded undershirt, chainmail armor, and a belted, hard dark leather tunic. His hands are protected by thick leather gloves which match his rough leather boots. Chainmail hosen are held tightly to his legs with strap and belts to maximize mobility and protection.

Weapons: His weaponry is varied with a javelin on his back, long shining steel sword strapped to his left hip, and a round steel shield hanging from his right. He also carries two sharp daggers tucked between his weapon belts.

Items/Misc: Raikon carries a backpack with various supplies including a 20ft coil of rope, tinder and firebox, maintenance gear such as whet stones and oil, rations and a water skin, thin wire, a bedroll, oiled tarp and waterproof cloak. He also has a collapsible oil lantern and basic medical supplies: A needle, thread, bandages, and herbs to fight back infection.

Biography:

In the capital city of the kingdom Mejise, in a small two room hut, a young boy with hair like fire learned a very early lesson about life and death. As his father beat his mother senseless on the floor of their shack, a young Raikon Delnai learned that often times there will be no one there to help you, and that sometimes to protect one you must kill another.

Raikon took his fathers sword and struck him through the side, instantly killing him and saving his mother. Free of his wickedness, his mother guided Raikon along a path of gentleness, teaching him to use his strength and courage to protect others, and to always be a careful, loving man.

The lessons were reforged and refined many times as Raikon grew to adulthood. He joined the military at 16 to protect his mother and city from enemy invasion. The empire of Burena had become greedy, and had lashed out on the independent provinces at her border, intent on gaining land and strength. As the battles went on, the trials of his position forged iron bands around his heart. He proved himself to be a capable warrior and effective leader, eventually gaining the ear of the generals around him. He continued to learn: to command, to inspire. As the war went on from months to years, and it was looking as though it would go on forever, he learned that sometimes it takes only one person standing fast for just a moment longer to make a difference, and that he could be that person.

In the final battle for Mejise, his comrades had nearly all fallen to the hands of the Burean military. The few survivors were hiding behind the walls, waiting for the enemy to finish their breach, and storm the final stronghold. Raikon fought along the battlements alone, taking down the enemy archers who had managed to entrench themselves. With the way clear, he descended into the courtyard, and began to barricade the final door alone. It wouldn't have been enough, but his courage inspired those around him, and more men felt the fire relight in their hearts. They continued fighting the enemy off until, finally, Burena retreated and the castle held.

The tide had turned, and a year later the war was won. Raikon had aged into a fine commander, and under his leadership Mejise rebuilt their fortifications, reworked alliances, and found a time of safety once again. But it wasn't long before Burena became hungry once more. With the enemy military mobilizing, Raikon and a small band of like minded mercenaries came together, marching to offer their services to defend the independent nations of the free Eastern lands.

[User]
The large man unconscious to the left of the door was the first to stir. He groaned quietly, his voice muffled by the soft moss his face rested against. His eyes fluttered open slowly, and he groaned again rolling first onto his side, and then his back. He raised a large gloved hand to blot the sun from his eyes, and frowned quizzically. He didn't recognize this place.

Raikon slowly raised into a sitting position, resting his weight on one arm, the other hand still blocking the sun from his sleep filled eyes. "Joshua? Hector?" His voice was thick in his throat, and quiet. He coughed into his hand, squinting into the sunlight, and looks around once more. He remembered they were celebrating. Many of them, Joshua, Hector, Kayle, his whole band had been there. They had just received word of the full retreat of all Burean forces from the peninsula, and Alcuin had been kept free of their grasp. They had been fighting for three weeks with almost no rest, their morale had dwindled to a candle flame. But they outlasted the enemy and had prevented their resupply, allowing for a reprieve, and a chance to bolster their defenses to prevent another attack.

The celebration was fierce and well earned. Friends had been lost, and many of his comrades had held their grief until the end. They had a chance to let their emotions flow freely along with the mead. He had drank plenty on his own, and his memories grew hazy as the night went on. But he remembered being carried on a shoulder to his bed in the Gnarled Pine, laughing and swaying and singing. This place was not The Gnarled Pine.

He looked at the other bodies on the ground around him and lifted himself to stand on shaky legs. He realized he was still dressed in all of his armor, and his body was sore in many places, screaming at the pressure points from the belts and gear strapped to his chest and hips. He could tell this place was ancient, and his mind swirled trying to recreate the steps he had taken back to the inn. He had made it back to his room, hadn't he? Who had helped him back? The back of his head throbbed and he shielded his eyes from the sunlight again, frustrated.

He looked at the bodies again. They were breathing, alive, just unconscious or asleep. He didn't recognize them, and started to walk closer to the young blonde man closest to him. He took in the room once more as he crouched down. The building they were in looked ancient. He had seen overgrown ruins before, but nothing like this. The place almost vibrated with a force unknown to him, and he swallowed back his fear. He reached down and grasped the shoulder of the slender man next to him, shaking gently.

"Hey, you. Wake up, would you?"

[Assistant]
"-ou. Wake up, would you?"

He didn't know that voice, was Caspian's first thought. He had always been a light sleeper, so there was usually no need for someone to go further than a verbal request. Breathing in deeply, he slowly opened his eyes to peer at whoever it was that wanted him awake. His mind was blank then, sleepiness fogging his thoughts. His vision still blurry at first glance, he moved to rub his eyes, coming aware of the the slight soreness all over his body. It was a familiar feeling. It was as if he had slept on hard floor, and his hands pressing upon the hard grounds proved it to be true. It had been awhile since he last slept on something that isn't a bed.

Disoriented, he slightly narrowed his eyes confusedly at the unfamiliar larger man before him. Was the man a new companion? In all his life, there was only one person he knew who had red hair. Albeit, his best friend's hair was a tad brighter, almost like fire. At the thought of his friend, he immediately turned to look around him, searching for another red head almost frantically. A small feeling of panic started to blossom deep within when he failed to see anyone he knew at all, like a heartburn he was trying hard to not acknowledge. Moreover, he vividly remembered that they were still in a city then. Kalakyth was a city of smoke and suffocating hot air that distinctly smelled of burning soil, cigar and liquor. It bore absolutely no resemblance to the refreshing green around him. He could almost still taste the awful mead that he spat after taking an experimental sip from his friend's flask.

Yes. He had a clear recollection of where and what he was doing. They were in Kalakyth because of a stop over, and their group chose to spent the night in the awful city of dark skies and smokey air over sleeping underneath the stars in the forest miles away. Kalakyth was located in the foot of a mountain that once had thousands of trees, with its incessant mining and pollution. From a distance, it looks like a black splotch. They were walking, he remembered, when he asked to take a sip from his friend's flask. They were leaving the city. What happened then? He knew he could remember if he just thought a lot harder. A place like the one around him was not something they could have found anywhere near Kalakyth. The disgusting men of that city wouldn't have let something as unnaturally pure and fresh go untainted.

Caspian tried not to think too deeply, truly. His thoughts were swirling violently into directions he didn't want to it to go, and he was actively avoiding the panic that was surely a layer just beneath his calmness and confusion. Breathe deeply, focus. It wouldn't do well for him to panic. Perhaps he was not in a safe place, perhaps he was. He forcefully brushed it all off, and breathed in deeply as he pushed himself to get up. It was colder, he realized, and he unconsciously tugged on his cloak. He felt around his body to feel if he still had his things. He did.

"What is this place?" He asked, his fingers tugging on the neckline of his shirt that felt a bit suffocating - a nervous habit of his. He stood too close to the larger and unfamiliar man, so he nervously took a step back, eyes flickering at the man's appearance. Older, larger and most probably stronger. Bigger people made him nervous. The look on the faces didn't matter. His friends taught him that people with kind faces could merely be better in hiding secrets and trickery. Granted, the men he calls friends trusted no one but the ones in their group only. They made him paranoid, too.

"Who are you?" And who are the men around them, and where was he, and just where were his friends? Where was Ni-. He exhaled, thinking about the fact that he shouldn't dwell on things that aren't currently in the present. The first thing was that he should look for familiar things, but nothing seemed familiar at the moment because he was still trying to clear his mind.

Nothing was familiar and it didn't make sense.

[User]
Raikon let the slender man look around and get his bearings, and took the chance to look him over. He didn't appear injured, or to know anything about this... temple, or whatever it was; that or he was a decent actor. He was armed with a dagger, wore simple clothes. He didn't look familiar at all, and the pendant he wore was of a style the traveled warrior hadn't seen before. The blonde man took a step back and Raikon obliged, allowing him the space. "I don't know where or what this place is. I was hoping you would tell me."

He tried to remember more of the night before, now that the warm air and movement had cleared his mind a little. Everything was very hazy from when he left the meeting hall. He remembered someone helping him down the street. He had asked to go back to the inn, the Gnarled Pine. But he didn't remember making it to his bed. There was something else, they had gone somewhere... But the memory remained evasive.

He looked down at the other unconscious bodies, pondering if he should wake them as well. "My name is Raikon Delnai, I have no idea how I got here." He glanced back over to the man shifting nervously beside him. "Stay calm, it doesn't look like we're in any immediate danger. Can you tell me who you are?" He recognized the look of contained panic, something he had seen in many before a battle. He hoped there wouldn't be a battle.

Raikon walked over to one of the other bodies and knelt down. He pushed the hood back and frowned. A woman, an elf at that. That made him more nervous. The only elves he had encountered had put two arrows into him, and he wasn't keen on repeating the experience. He noticed the bow, quiver of arrows and well worn daggers and decided this one could stay asleep a while longer. He stood up carefully and stepped away.


[System]
Age: 21
Bio:
* Was initially catatonic when she was found, barely responding even after being treated. Apparently the only thing she used to do was weep at night, but she has little memory of this happening. Eventually she would follow instructions and generally react to the adults speaking to her, but wouldn't speak. Once she did come out of her shell, her strong personality clashed with the other children, often expecting them to bend to her will without question.
* Her earliest memory comes from getting hit by a ball, having been taken on a walk by one of the workers. Despite getting hit in the face, she apparently laughed it off, letting go of the worker's hand to go play with the other children.
* She was particularly attached to another orphan by the name of Grisha, a dark haired boy. Often chasing him around (much to his irritation), she was particularly apologetic to him, though when asked why he wouldn't leave him alone, she would only reply that she needed to apologize. As for what, no one knew, but Grisha wasn't too happy about it. Fortunately for him, as they got older, she did put a more respectful distance and eventually they got along better. He was one of the boys in a group that ended up getting indoctrinated some years down the line.
* One of the caretakers, an older woman by the name of Natasha, suspected Katya may have been nobility by the way she acted. She helped the child transition into a common life, teaching her how to speak to people without being so haughty. She found it rather amusing that despite having no memories, she still acted like a member of a noble family and often indulged her when she could. Instilling good values into the girl to the best of her ability, she is the reason why Katya works to get what she wants, having taught her that if you wanted something you had to get out there and take it for yourself. Sadly she passed away when Katya was a teenager of old age.
* Katya has an unexplainable desire to find someone; she wants to think that it is her family, but she feels it is not the case. She does not know who it is nor does she have any idea why, only 'feeling' it and figuring she would know when she would find them. She rarely brings it up, realizing it is an impossible task and one unlikely to happen. The one thing she wants more than anything is to find this person and apologize, though she doesn't even know why or what she did.
* Has sold her hair twice; the first time she was outright approached as a child, and despite not quite understanding why the man had wanted her hair, she obliged. Natasha wasn't too happy when Katya returned to the orphanage with a shaved head, though her heavy pockets let her know that this was a great way to make money. The second time was after Natasha's death, and was Katya's first step into working towards her goal.

Natasha Alexeev - Primary caretaker, she oversaw much of the operations of the orphanage Katya grew up in. She assumed Katya to be nobility by the clothing she wore, ordering the other caretakers to hide her once the Bolsheviks came searching for any runaway royalty. Despite the girl having no memory of who she was, her strong personality caused adult and child alike to reject her. Taking pity, Natasha raised her the best she could, teaching her how to better socialize. When Katya mentioned wanting to work, she was initially concerned the girl's naivete would cause her to get taken advantage of. Before she passed away, she left her entire set of jewelry to Katya, including a pair of silver earrings (ones she wore often) and a pair of valuable sapphire earrings.

Grisha Dobrow - A young boy who was placed in the orphanage by his father after his mother passed away. His father returned for him when he was 16, and drafted several other boys his age to be indoctrined into the Bolsehvik army. He has grown into a hardened soldier and learned the truth of the siege, believing that it was a necessary evil despite the lives lost. He doesn't believe the rumor going around about the survival of the last Romanov, but looks to dispel it as quickly as possible, only lamenting that an innocent soul has to be taken in exchange.

Yana and Lev - A pair of inseparable boys, the mischievous Lev always had a follower in Yana. He was best friends with Grisha, though he would often butt heads with Katya over her clinginess to him. Lev has grown crueler over the years, with Yana following dutifully, even as he quietly questions the things happening in their country as well as his friends' sanity.
Age 9 - Catatonic for two months, slowly starts to come out of her shell, amnesia apparent

Age 10 - Her attachment to Grisha is apparent, much to the boy's annoyance

Age 11 - While out in the street, a man makes a comment on how much someone would pay for her hair. Katya sells it and gives the money to Natasha, who is none too pleased.

Age 15 - The boys are adopted by a soldier. Grisha and Katya promise to reunite someday.

Age 16 - Natasha passes away. Katya shaves her head and starts working in hopes of getting a ticket out of Russia.

Age 21 - Finally gets enough money for her ticket to Paris. [RP Start]

[User]
Momentarily confused by his assumption assumption, Katya hesitated for a moment. Moscow? Ailing mother? She supposed it shouldn't be surprising that people would just assume the worst, but it was the disdain he had as he spoke that irked her slightly. They were complete strangers, there was no need to jump to any conclusions just yet. Though she supposed it was a bit hypocritical, as she already assumed he was a huge jerk and wasn't going to be letting up anytime soon.

"I...don't really know if I even have a mother," Katya admitted slowly, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. "So if she's ailing I wouldn't know too much about that. Maybe she's alive, maybe she's dead...Who knows, I don't know much about my family so your guess is as good as mine."

Realizing she was getting off topic, Katya caught herself as she tried to rerail the conversation, clearing her throat. "Anyway, there was no story or anything, I have the money and just want to leave Russia. This is going to sound crazy, but I actually don't really know where I need to go. Anywhere is fine," Vague, perhaps, but she was driven enough to know that all this guy wanted was money. And as long as he didn't ask for anything insane, she could afford anything he asked.

[Assistant]
Feliks' eyebrow raised again at the girl as she prattled on about her memories, or lack thereof. Odd, for sure, but even more odd that she felt the need to explain all of that to him. His comment about a mother in Moscow was just a common joke; visiting a dying family member was a common excuse used by people trying to convince the checkpoint officers to let them pass without the proper documents. "Right, good to know," he commented flatly, absently digging in his breast pocket for another cigarette.

No sooner had he pulled it out, though, than he heard a little bell, and looked over to see that the damn shopkeep had finally opened up. Tucking his cigarette back into its case for later, he motioned with his head to the shop, looking to the girl. "Come with me."

He didn't wait for her to reply before he pushed off the wall he had been leaning on. When he moved, however, he really did stick out of the crowd; he walked with a pronounced limp, clearly favouring his left leg. He made a beeline for the shop door, grasping the door frame to climb the single step that led up to it. Once inside, he went straight to the counter, exchanging a brief greeting with the shopkeep, an older gentleman who seemed to still be getting everything set up for the day. Behind him were a number of shelves, with various varieties and colours of ink in bottles on display. Along the walls of the shop were numerous different types and sizes of paper, and even a few bound books, though considering the nature of the shop, they were probably blank. In lieu of talking to him further, Feliks simply handed the shopkeep a list, who took it and promptly set about finding whatever was on it.

Leaning gratefully against the counter, Feliks stifled a groan, shifting his weight so as to put as little on his left side as possible. Mornings were always a bitch for that hip, and standing still in the cold for half an hour certainly hadn't helped. The inside of the shop was marginally warmer, but all he found himself longing for was another cigarette and a seat by the fire once he got back. For the moment, though, the girl's odd request got him thinking.

"Anywhere is fine?" he repeated, a little incredulously. "Surely you have some idea of where you want to go. And I'll need an actual destination if I'm going to help you with your problem." He and the shopkeep briefly met eyes, though a warning look from Feliks set the man back to work. Those damn gears in Feliks' head were turning, but he didn't want to run too far away with the Russian Circus on that bright idea just yet.

"Well, why are you leaving?" He asked, deciding to take some pity on the girl and help her out a little. Besides, if she made up her mind, he'd have a paying customer. "Are you looking for something? Want to do something? Or do you just want to escape the burning barn of a country that is great mother Russia?" His last suggestion was laced with no small amount of acid, Feliks' face twisting up in disgust.

[User]
Feliks wasn't turning her away, so Katya took it as a good sign. His comment was dismissive, but he wouldn't have told her to follow him if he wasn't going to help. Alright, looks like she was making some progress! The blonde visibly relaxed, nodding as he told her to follow him, though her expression fell as she watched him walk. Well, not walk; it looked like he was having some difficulty, surprising her with the speed of which he limped. It didn't look like he was injured, and she didn't notice him minding it too much. Maybe something from the past? A prick of pity hit her, though she snapped out of her thoughts as she realized she was being left behind.

Entering the shop, she followed Feliks almost dutifully, though her eyes wandered the shop briefly. It had been some time since she had shopped for--actually, she had not shopped in general in some time. Anytime she had entered a place it had usually been to either ask for work or fulfilling some errand for pay. Still, something about the place was interesting to her, sparking her curiosity until she would come to a stop behind Feliks.

His expression caught her attention as he leaned against the counter. Something about him being in pain pulled at her heartstrings, regardless of how he spoke to her. No one deserved to be in pain. As he inquired about her destination, Katya shifted her weight from one leg to another, giving him a half-hearted shrug. "Well, you're right. I don't need to go anywhere, but if I'm being honest, I want to go to Paris," She confessed, frowning once again.

Teetering on deciding whether or not to give him the whole story, she exhaled a heavy sigh, gesturing towards outside. "It's as good a place to start as any, since I'm searching for someone. And as far as I'm aware, they're no longer in Russia," Katya informed him, the certainty in her voice slowly dissipating the longer she went on. And now for the part that usually made people give her that look. "Don't ask me how I know that, though. Because I actually have no idea who they are or if they're still waiting for me in Paris, but...I know they're not here. So that's why I need those papers." She braced herself for his reaction, watching him somewhat warily.

[Assistant]
Paris? Jeez, good thing he got that out of her. That was a bit of a bigger deal than Moscow, but luckily it wasn't anything Feliks hadn't done before. It certainly was strange, though, to have a peasant girl looking to go to Paris; she didn't look like she had much money to spare, and from what he'd heard it wasn't a cheap city. Maybe she'd scrounged together enough money for a train ticket, but what did she expect to do once she was there? Granted, most of what he knew about Paris was that it was a popular destination for fleeing nobility after the Bolshevik takeover, and he still got the occasional former Imperial court member or miscellaneous aristocrat feeling the pressure and wanting to get out, people who had managed to hide some amount of wealth from the communists and could afford to start a new life somewhere they'd be respected. And they were usually being forced to leave, knowing they'd be executed if the Bolsheviks got wind of who they were, but this girl simply wanted to leave. Curious indeed.

By the sounds of it, this girl was as confused as he was. Searching for someone in Paris, but she didn't know who…

Feliks almost tsked at himself before he realized how insane that would make him look. Of course, he was crazy even thinking that. She was a paying customer with blonde hair and blue eyes, nothing more.

"Well, that's certainly something," he commented finally, turning his gaze to the shopkeep as he finished gathering the items Feliks had requested. They didn't need to exchange words, quite familiar with the process at this point; Feliks simply slid the money across the counter, trading it for his purchases.

"Anyway, whatever the reason, I can help you," he continued, shoving off the counter with his paper bag of items in hand. "Come with me, I'll see if I have any documents for Paris ready. I'll also need your name." With that he started out the shop and down the street, not so much as checking to see if she was following as he limped along at the briskest pace he could manage, eager to get the hell out of the cold and wondering if he'd have to re-stoke the fire when he got back.

[User]
Wow, what a tame response.

Well, it was better than the alternative, either outright disbelief or mocking her naivete. For the moment she was just glad she wouldn't have to hear about her impossible task, already knowing she had her work cut out for her. The sooner she got started, the better; the details could always be sorted out later on. Katya watched Feliks nervously as he paid, the seconds between that and him speaking once again stretching out for much longer than they probably were, but she could have cried in happiness as he mentioned he could help her.

Unable to contain her grin, the blonde bounced in place before setting off, following Feliks as he led the way. Just the thought of getting to Paris sooner than later was enough to invigorate her, albeit the cold wind threatened to ground her back into reality as it bit at her face. Muttering a comment about the bitter cold, she was surprised at how fast he was moving, but she guessed he wanted to get out of the cold just as much as she did.

Glad his questions would distract her from the weather, Katya paused for a moment. "My name? Oh, right, yeah. I'm Katya," She pulled her collar a little higher around her neck as a wind slapped her face, huffing out a breath of irritation. "You're taking me somewhere warm, right? I can't stand the cold." She couldn't help but whine, already wishing she could have nabbed another scarf for warmth.


[System]
Appearance: Short sun bleached hair and heavily tanned skin. 5' 1" , Pudgy

Age:14

Personality:
 Outside of the Archer, Krista is cheerful and optimistic. However she honestly feels that it is better to be blunt now rather than mince words and wait for a misunderstanding to form. This has led to more than a few hurt feelings with her peers. While she does enjoy group activities, she shies away from one on one interactions. However she is noticeably colder when preparing for a mission or in the Archer, sometimes dismissing personal and emotional problems with derision.

Motive to live: Revenge, protect her remaining family.

Background:
 Krista was on a docked cargo ship owned by her cousin Richard when the Cruxi attacked her home-world. Richard locked her and cousins Jess and brother Martel into the ship's security room while the ship tried to deal with the influx of refugees. Between the security feeds in the security room and news broadcasts, she had a front row seat to the chaos the Cruxi caused. In addition, watching her family home get destroyed while she watched imbued a sense of helplessness that sent her spiraling into despair.
 While a few members of her family managed to make it off the planet safely, it wasn't until she learned of the Framewerk program that she managed to pull herself out of her depression. Now she can do something. Now she doesn't need to sit idly by watching others die.

Notable Deaths:
 Her family's farmstead was destroyed as she watched through the video call Martel had made in a desperate attempt to warn their parents. She also remembers watching as the ship she was on left people on the ground as it took off.

Framewerk Code Name: Archer

Source
(Just pretend that the guy isn't there. This is more for the general shape of the machine)

Signature Weapon System:
Anti Material Projectile - Thermal Type(A.M.P.T.T.) Cannon, also known as the Slag Cannon. This is a modified rail gun that can fire superheated metal, typically tungsten, to melt through armor. The large amount of heat this generates limits the (Safe) firing rate for the weapon. Typically a technique known as "Time on Target" is used to increase the effectiveness of the first shot by following it up with one or more conventional rail-gun shots. The Archer's Prometheus Fire Control System automates the rapid loading and firing of these follow up shots, but they are more inaccurate than the initial shot due to recoil.

Secondary Weapon System:
Prometheus Fire Control System:
This system allows the Archer to track and predict enemy movements to a limited degree. While it isn't true prescience, it uses an advanced suite of sensors and adaptive computer models to develop the situational awareness to predict a target's movements. The system is also designed to learn from experience, so the more it is used the better the predictive models get and thus the system becomes more effective. It is primarily used to help the Archer's pilot to aim the main gun and handle the reloading of the main gun. The actual aim adjustment and pulling of the trigger are still done by the pilot. While it allows the Archer to accurately hit targets at remarkable ranges when both the target and Archer are stationary, movement of either the Archer or target reduces the accuracy of system remarkably. Typically this reduces the system to providing predictions (i.e. 80% of the shots fired will land in this particular area) of likely points of impact in most combat situations.

Hornet Nest Point Defense System:
Primarily a defensive system, there are several hidden missile pods located all over the Archer. At a moment's notice one or more missiles can be fired off to intercept incoming enemy fire with kinetic impact weapons, which are essentially large darts. While this is mainly to protect the Archer from return fire while on the move, the system can attack other targets such as airborne threats with less efficacy as the Hornet Nest missiles lack the explosive damage of conventional missile load-outs.

Armor Type:
Heavy. The heavy hitting nature of the main gun puts the Archer at the top of the enemy's list of targets, necessitating heavy protection. The Archer has been equipped with experimental armor that gives the same protection as conventional heavy armor while still allowing the heat from its main gun to dissipate. However the Archer still requires support to deal with close range engagements, as it is slower than most bipedal Framewerks and lacks a strong close range defense.

Special Ability: N/A

Current Synchro: 80%

[User]
Krista found it interesting how quickly she could get a read on some of her fellow cadets. There were the ones that seemed fairly nervous about the upcoming battle, the one was going to quickly start butting heads with others, and the few that looked calmer than everyone else in the room. Stukov in particular seemed to be the most level headed, if only because he seemed to be the oldest in the room. This seemed to inspire confidence in him. One of the Cadets, Koelher, had already given Stukov a vote of confidence. Lora had a lot to say too, though Krista did doubt if this battle was only to test their Synchro Rate. If anything Lora seemed to be firm in her capabilities, and was always thinking which could be a good trait to have. It would be interesting to see their 'game faces' once the fight started.

Having skimmed the files on the others on the way here, she recognized a few of the other cadets on sight. She also recognized how many of them piloted Framewerks that were close-range fighters, which was her major weakness. Hopefully she could get someone cover her, or at least figure out a way to keep them from closing the gap.

After everyone had their say, Yeshua suggested that they should describe their Framewerks to each other. Stukov also seemed open to the idea. "Eh, what the heck. I wouldn't mind talking about our frames. We have an hour to fill until the fight starts anyway, so unless there is something else someone wants to talk about..." She trails off, implying an invitation to jump in.

[Assistant]
Miles folded his arms, his opinion wasn't the most popular in the room, and the headstrong Stukov seemed to be gaining support by a few members in the room. Which of course was completely fine to Miles, as he wasn't a leader nor someone who particularly needed approval but he was becoming more nervous about his ability to stay alive on the battlefield if any tactical mistakes were made, he hoped that their collective battle experience would be more than enough to fill in the obvious gaps of tactical warfare experience. Stukov's term 'Lone Wolf' applied not only to miles but of most of the pilots here who had never been in a team unit before even if they were willing to be co-operative.

Miles was beginning to overthink a lot of things, luckily Lora the pilot spoke up and returned Miles respectful nod. Miles still wasn't sure if she agreed to team up with him but appreciated the respect. A tall dopey looking boy called Koehler was offering to team up with th nervous wreck of the little girl Elora, his Framewerk 'Roxy' was a very attractive machine with a swift offensive style not too different from Miles' own Black Komodo. The round girl Krista opened the floor to talk about their framewerks, Miles didn't really want to waste anytime, so he spoke up first.

My Framewerk, the Black Komodo is a mech that was built for hard and fast attacks, softening the enemy up in mid to close range combat. Think of it as a 'Shocktrooper' Mech.

Miles looked around the room as a few of the young pilots started to pay attention to him.

My fighting style is self taught, especially when the black komodo fights upclose with the Chainsword, I become very easy to hit with friendly fire by a 'support' unit trying to back me up, it rarely works. I refused to adhere to the elephant in the room. The Russian and Lora have the most impressive mechs in my opinion, our survival may be won or lost on their ability to act under extreme presssure, I dont have to like either of them to acknowledge that fact.

Miles pulled out his pocket computer and pulled up a hologram of the dossiers on the mechs, he cycled through the Daemon, Caliburn and got to Roxy and Rose.
Koehler's Framewerk could do some damage if used correctly, but I question the pilot's abilities, perhaps he would like to prove me wrong in the mock battle? and I cant take this Rose Framewerk seriously. If any of you emerge as leader, keep this joke of machine as far away from me as possible on the battlefeild before I blow it up for fun.

Miles Vayne holds back nothing, he has no one to impress, nothing to gain in social interactions but information and acknowledgement and made his character very clear to his piers in the room. At the very least this upcoming campaign would be interesting.

[User]
Koehler quietly talked to Elora some more, attempting to keep it semi-private. "Wow, that Miles guy is so asinine... does he really have to threaten the short rose guy? Rose guy seems decent...". Koehler then began to notice the general distress Elora was in...

"Uhh. Actually... you should, y'know... calm down? Imagine everyone in their underwear, I guess. That used to work for me before puberty.". He then snickered a little at his joke, "...Well I'm going to talk to Stukov.".

Koehler then quietly maneuvered around everyone, attempting to not elicit too much attention. He eventually weaved through the small crowd until he was behind Stukov. He poked his back to get his attention, "So... what are you thinking? Since apparently we can do it me and Elora are gonna make a tiny team. Do you want to be a part of it? I like you. You seem smart, and stuff.".

 He went to reassure him, "You don't have to if you don't wanna, Stu. Can I call you Stu? You can call me Koe. Or Harold. Well... I can call you Alex too, can't I? Tell me if you wanna do that, I think it's smart, forming little teams. Yours is the big one, right? As I said mine is supposed to be quick and hit stuff hard. I think that's a good combo along with Elora's thingy to repair us and stuff."

"Why do you think that Miles guy is such an asshole? Are there bees in his ass? That'd be horrifying. Bees-in-ass syndrome. I hate bees..."

[Assistant]
Elora's last words quickly went into a hushed whisper once Lora started talking over her. Lora was no-nonsense, but she also put a lot of emphasis on their good qualities, which made Elora feel a bit better about herself. However, it also put pressure on her; she had to live up to the expectation of being the best of humanity, and that was a lot of people. She nodded to Lora's demand of everyone doing their best; she wanted to prove she wasn't a burden for the others, but someone they could rely on. Whether she had the courage to do so was a different matter, but at least she would try her hardest. Elora turned to look at the pilots while absorbed in her thoughts, and her eyes met with Lora's. Lora gave her a nod of some kind before turning around. She first thought she was being condescending towards her, but the gentle tone of her eyes told she actually liked what she said. Nobody else noticed this, so Elora started to wonder if Lora actually wanted to secretly team up with her.

While she was thinking, Koehler snuck up on her, and Elora let out a small scream, frightened by how close he came to her. She visibly trembled while waiting to see what the tall boy wanted with her. Please don't bully me, she managed to think before she realized Koehler actually wanted to ally himself with her, and that made her step back nonplussed. She remembered reading about Koehler's Framewerk, and how it was a fast striking type. She hesitated for a moment before nodding. "O-Okay. I'll try not to let you down." Koehler then started talking about Alexei, and Elora covered her mouth with her hands when he asked if she liked him. "Well, U-umm, I think he is inspiring, and wise, and caring, and-" Elora's face turned red, and she hastily moved her hands before her. "No, don't get me wrong! I like him, but, umm, not like that..."

Koehler commented on Miles, and Elora felt uncomfortable about the subject. "Well, this is difficult for all of us, so it's understandable that we may disagree on something." Elora didn't want to say anything bad about him out of fear of him finding out and bullying her. "Romeo seems nice. I read his name from the files we were given." Elora was getting more and more nervous as the discussion with Koehler went on; this is the longest he's kept a casual conversation with a boy, and her speech became more littered with stuttering. Koehler seemed to notice this due to the suggestion he gave to her before saying he'll talk with Alexei. However, that caused Elora to blush again, and she covered her face with her hands. "Eeh! I can't do that! It's embarrassing!
However, as embarrassed as she was, she did relax. Koehler's presence made her feel a lot better about the situation they were currently in, and she smiled a bit. No matter how scary the fight out there was going to be, at least she wouldn't have to face it alone.

[User]
Krista watched as Miles told them about his mech. "Totally gonna need to watch out for him" she thought.

Spotting the nervous blond haired boy from earlier, she sidled up to him. "Name's Romeo right? You pilot the Rose? I like that. Romeo Rose. Roooommeeeooo Rooose. Has a nice ring to it. Anyway I was wondering if you would like to team up with me. We could both use someone to back us up. I was thinking about asking that Yeshua guy as well. Form a little team or something." Krista began scanning the room for Yeshua. "I wonder when we should start suiting up actually..."


[System]
Gender
Male
Age
23
Appearance
With typical Darcsen blue-black hair and a thin beard, Harald is nothing special. His off-duty wear consists of a well-worn traditional Darscen robe adapted for his former role as a police officer with a number of leather straps and sewn in pouches. When in his uniform, Harald shows his heritage with a sash worn across the chest.
Rank
Sergeant, Squad 4 NCO Commanding
Class
Scout
Weapons and Equipment

Gallian S1 Rifle and bayonet
Grenade bandoleer with space for three B-Type M1 grenades
Small Ragnaid canister and first aid pouch
Gallian Police Constabulary Service Revolver, .38 cal
Personality
Like many of his Darcsen brethren, Harald is calm and collected, possessed of patience born from a lifetime's persecution. He is likely to bite his tongue and walk away when provoked, but rest assured he will have his vengeance in the end, even if it is a petty one. When in the presence of someone who can see beyond his dark hair, Harald is relaxed and friendly, the very picture of a smiling bobby on the beat. He treats his subordinates like his own children and is prone to occasional fits of paternal rage if they are hurt or wronged.

Bio
The Gallian Police Constabulary rarely admits Darcsen as constables, but in the southern town of Rinneheim there are exceptions. Years ago the town was home to a large ragnite refinery and its itinerant population of Darcsen workers; even once the refinery went bankrupt and the industrialists moved on, the workers stayed to settle. By the time of the Second Europan War, Rinneheim was home to hundreds of Darcsen in various professional capacities, making it both a cultural melting pot and a tempting target for regular slaving raids from across the border. In order to maintain its appearance as a national force, the GPC loosened its recruitment criteria and a young man named Harald became the first Darcsen constable in the region.

Having lost his parents to disease and being bereft of siblings, Harald was raised on the street. His early years were nothing special; a mix of begging, stealing and odd jobs. During his compulsory military education he specialised in reconnaissance and demolitions, hoping to perhaps enter the Gallian Army upon graduation. Even his career with the GPC was uneventful, as Rinneheim was a peaceful city with little crime. However as the years rolled on and tensions rose across Europa, Imperial raids across the border escalated and the GPC soon found itself working as adhoc border guards. Failure by the government and the military to protect border towns such as Rinneheim led to growing unrest among the Darcsen minority, often the target of slave raids and sometimes outright ethnic cleansing.

Finding himself caught between these two opposing forces, Harald became disillusioned with his role as a constable and began to drift away from his increasingly right-wing co-workers. As March 1935 rolled around, Harald was questioning his life and role in society, questioning whether his loyalty should be to his state or his people. The events of that day in early March soon gave him his answer.

RP Sample
A lone figure strolled down Rinneheim's main street, his breath crystallising in the early morning air. AM beats were always his favourite; the air was crisp and fresh, the people too groggy to cause problems. He thought of it as a pleasant walk after a good morning coffee at the station. He rounded a corner, entering the area known among his fellow constables as Darktown, home to Rinneheim's vibrant Darcsen community. The change in atmosphere was sudden and drastic; Darktown was alive with the sounds of industry as a dozen blacksmiths plied their trade and apprentices ran to and fro across the street. The policeman smiled, nodding to the occasional worker as he rolled a cigarette. Just as he was sparking up, a melodic voice floated down from a second story window. 'Morning Harry! Still hung over?' The copper flashed one irate finger in reply as he walked on, not even deigning to look at the young woman. 'Oh really? Really, Harald? Same place, same time tonight or I'll rip your balls off!'

The same old jokes, same old banter. Such was life in Darktown, where everyone knew one another, had grown up together; the same couldn't be said for the rest of the town. The up-town beat was Harald's least favourite, where the shop owners sneered as he passed, people crossed the street to avoid him... and worst off, the little old ladies never invited him in for a cup of tea. Philistines. As he strolled through the ghetto he passed the occasional empty building, barren and silent... The Imperial raids had grown worse recently, with entire families taken in the night. He shuddered to think what fate awaited those taken by the raiders, especially considering the... examples they sometimes left behind. Harald found himself subconsciously reaching for his old service revolver, conflicting feelings of outrage and responsibility weighing down on him. If things didn't change soon, if the government didn't take steps to protect its citizens... He glanced around morosely, reflecting on how fragile a place like Darktown was. If those raids ever became something more concrete... He stopped himself. Such pessimism had no place in the eyes of a on-duty constable. Squaring his shoulders and lighting up another cigarette, Harald set off toward the station to begin his next beat.

I want to be Nancy Dufour's Onii-chan.

[User]
Private Elise Louque

Elise wasn't sure whether she should begin by telling the darcsen to sod off with his inane orders, or if she should point out that she doubted this Hunt character could spot a wall if it was in front of him. She'd joined the army to do a job though, even if this wasn't anything like she'd imagined it would be she was still here to do her job. She bit her tongue. It wasn't a good idea to continue to antagonize everyone she ran into, regardless of whether she was having the worst day in a long time. Elise would simply have to use her discipline to focus on her job, and disregard the darcsens and other annoyances. "Fine, lead the way." She said to Hunt with a cold tone. Elise would go along with them for now, but it didn't mean she had to like it. Maybe she should send a letter to HQ asking to be transferred to another squad.

[Assistant]
PFC James Hunt|Le Haye Sainte

The walk was short, since it was just across from the only remaining house in the village, and James took up his position he had the previous night, aiming out of the whole he'd mostly found and partially set up, but scooted over so Miss Stick up Her Ass had a spot to aim out of as well.

[User]
Celeste
"Alright.." She answered while scratching the back of her neck. The order the sergeant had given her made her a bit unsure of her abilities. Celeste moved towards her lance and rifle, slinging her rifle over her back and picking up the lance. Turning her attention back to those that were still here. "Well, you heard the man, anyone who doesn't have any orders come with me. Meet at the destroyed tank in the crossroad, and we'll move from there."

After all the stragglers had joined up at the destroyed tank, she looked at the west road, then the east. "Alright, so here's how we'll do this. We're going to move west, and circle around the south and come back in from the east. And we'll continue this cycle until the Sergeant gives a new order. Or if the marksman team spots something north." She tapped her chin "We'll move in a wedge out in the fields...assuming everyone knows what that is. But we'll stay in a column when passing through the by here." Celeste let her lance rest against her "And we'll probably double time it through here as well, so our eyes don't stay off the rest of the fields for long. Everyone got that?"

[Assistant]
Private First Class Cecilia Rousseau
Le Haye Sainte

"Urghh...." Ceclia groaned, as he right hand moved towards her head. "Ah .... my head ..." Holding her head with one hand, and slowly, but surely, getting up, she found herself .... somewhere she had never been before. "This ... isn't the base .... where am I?" Cecilia muttered. She was still feeling the alcohol in her. Her head was splitting, she was hung over. Now ... how did this happen?

---

Last night
Base

A group of PFCs had gathered during the night, having a minor celebration over some recent victories for some squads. Some of these PFCs had gone to assist some of those squads, including Cecilia, so there she was, drinking with some of the others. "WOOO!!"
"YEAH!"
"And then we ..."
Stories and cheers were coming around in this party, and Cecilia enjoyed the mood, happily chugging her a drink. Although the quality wasn't the best, it was still something to enjoy at least.

After a few hours of drinking, Cecilia needed to get some sleep. She was pissed drunk, and there was no way she would get into her barracks without some sort of consequence. Her dad, did say something once, about his time during training. Most of the vehicles at the base rarely ran, so some people who got drunk occasionally would sleep in the vehicle to avoid getting caught drunk. Remembering this nice bit of information, she decided it would be better to get some sleep in one of the vehicles. It was dark, and a number of vehicles were around. One was unlocked so she got in somewhere and fell asleep ...

---

Present
Le Haye Sainte

"Well, you've gotta be shitting me. I got myself recruited while I was asleep, and drunk? Without my gear? Probably someone didn't check the vehicle properly." Cecilia continued to mutter to herself. She was well aware, her headache was not gonna go away any time soon. Getting out of the APC, she only realized that it was an Imp APC that had been repainted. I must of been real drunk to not notice it was an APC she thought to herself.

Scanning the area, she noticed it had been a battlefield, one that probably was one only recently but needed new recruits. Most of the buildings had been destroyed, except one. It seemed the others of the squad were eating breakfast. Please, let them be quiet eaters. she hoped, as she made her way to the building.

It was bustling, and her head was splitting and hurting even more. This really sucked for Cecilia. All she could do was manage a sigh as she held her head with one hand, massaging it a little. With her eyes barely open, she looked at everyone's uniforms, more specifically their rank. Private, private, PFC, Oh a Sergeant The Sergeant was a man with black-blue hair and a thin beard. From this, she thought it was likely he was a darcsen, although, it was entirely possible that he might not be, like herself. Although her hair was dark, she was not a darcsen, proof being that she still held a surname from her parents who weren't darcsens. She has often, though, been mistaken as a darcsen, this lead to her not developing the same bias as others to darcsens.

Walking up to the Sergeant, she gave a weak salute. "Private First Class Cecilia Rosseau, Sir. Reporting for duty." Her voice was soft and a little weak. "Sorry Sergeant, but I have a request. You see ... I was drunk at the base and suddenly I wound up here. So there are two things here, I have no gear and I have a hangover. So can I at least get some sleep and then get my gear from base before actually being properly recruited into this squad?" Cecilia asked, as her salute changed at some point to rubbing her head.

[User]
Sergeant Harald, Gallian Militia

'Muller, then. Good to make your acquaintance.' Another mortar lance, interestingly enough. Durandal had helped considerably last night with hers and with the prospect of further urban combat ahead, Harald was quite glad to have the firepower. 'Go with Corporal Stichler for the moment, she'll show you about.' He turned his attention to the last new addition, one eyebrow rising as he took note of her dishevelled appearance. Well... Good morning Rosseau, I guess.' How the hell CArn had managed to recruit a fucking drunkard was beyond him, but the Sergeant had to work with what he had. 'No-go Private, sorry. We're hours away from any established bases and we've got limited kit on hand. Tell you what though, there's a spare SMG in the APC-' Kyo's SMG at least... '- so go get that and scrounge up and kit we have lying around. Might be a few bits of Imperial webbing left over from last night, if you need it.' He paused for a long moment, wondering if he should just let the girl sleep; she did look pretty shattered... But no. 'Sorry Stichler, but this one's your responsibility for the moment. Kit her up, then sober her up.'

With that, he let the Corporal lead them from the room but snagged one at the last moment. 'Skye, was it? You're with me. I need a hand with a few of the wounded.' The two of them trudged upstairs to where the injured had been left overnight. Luckily he had had the foresight to move Durandal in with the other two when he awoke, leaving the three of them packed together on a pair of beds. 'Durandal there is another one of our lancers; I think she hit her head during the fight. Looked alright this morning, but I don't want to take chances. Could you give her a once over for me?' In the meantime he knelt between the two beds to check on the last two remaining members of the original squad from Rinneheim. Sykora's pale skin was nothing new, she always looked like she would be better off indoors. Harald propped her up gently against a pillow, lightly tapping her cheek to wake her up. 'Oi... Oi, come on now, up you get. Oversleeping's a court martial-able offence, y'know?' He tried to cover his concern with a bit of humour, well aware that either of them could be more seriously injured than anticipated. Casting a glance over his shoulder at Jatmoore's sleeping form, he was glad to see that most of the cuts and bruises had healed over; thank the Valks for ragnaid. 'You too, Private. Breakfast's ready and the guys are worried.' If it had been one of the guys (like for example Hunt, or definitely Carn), he would have just dumped a pale of cold water on their heads. But these two just seemed too... delicate for that. It worried him immensely.


[System]
Title: The Trickster

Age: ???

Gender: Male

Appearance

Rank: Mage

Personality: Flippant, reckless, careless, whimsical, mischievous, curious. Bristlebane is very random and contradictory. He really does whatever he feels like. Whether that entails playing for coins in a town square or breaking into a castle treasure simply to leave a calling card, or flirting with the nearest person. Bristlebane clearly has little purpose in life yet has large array of skills keeps him out of trouble moving from one place to the next. He will change his mind faster than you can realize he made it up in the first place. He is friendly, impossible to offend, and blunt as a hammer. Usually

History: Bristlebane either doesn't remember his past or doesn't want to. Regardless he has lived a life of taking odd jobs, adventuring, and every now and then, stealing to take care of himself. Due to his inability to use magic he focused on gathering a large amount of magic items to compensate, and still is. Bristlebane was so vexed by his inability to use magic that he decided that if he couldn't learn to use magic, then he would learn to do everything else. As a result he has an incredibly wide array of skills, everything from pick-pocketing, to blacksmithing, to alchemy. Finally Bristlebane decided that if he could ever learn how to use magic it would be in a guild focused on magic users, and so to fulfill this end he joined the guild Harpy's Wing.

Magic: Holder
Bristlebane doesn't have any "magic" per-say, instead he has something very different. An immunity to magic. Simply put magic doesn't affect him, much to Bristlebane's regret, this meant that he could use no magic of his own, though not due to a lack of effort. However this didn't stop him from trying for his whole life.

Cloak of Many Pockets: Bristlebane's patchwork cloak has a nearly infinite amount of pockets and all of them share the properties of a bag of holding.

Flickerstep boots: These boots allow Bristlebane to "Flicker" when he walks causing his position to blur and become unclear, almost making it look like there are two or three of him.

Gravity Badge: A small badge that doubles the gravity on whatever it is pinned onto. It cannot be removed until 10 minutes have passed, or the person who put it on takes it off. Then it needs to recharge for at least half a day.

Stone Of Traveling: A small black stone that looks like the eye of some strange creature. Stored in one of his pockets it can be thrown, and when it hits something the user will teleport to the stone and it will go back into his pocket.

Jet-fire Ring: Allows generation of a stream of fire.

Aquatic Mirror Ring: Allows generation of a shield of water that can be launched towards an opponent.

Golden sword- ???

Other: Uses variations of break-dancing for physical combat and he loved the card he has in his hat.

[User]
Caroline

Caroline stood by and watched Xavier, or what she assumed was Xavier, fighting with the enemy. She watched his movements as they advanced, becoming smoother, faster, stronger, and glanced back at the unconscious body of her guildmate. "I hope you know what you're doing, Xavier."

Suddenly, vines sprouted from between her feet, forcing her to back up. Putting her hands together, she started forming the sign for Ice Make, but changed her mind and shifted to Artifact Make. "False Requip, Magmolten Lash!"

A long, black whip formed in her hand, and as she drew it up and snapped it back down on the vines, it lit itself ablaze, burning the vines. As more vines sprouted in their place, Caroline kept attacking, never taking a step away from Xavier. "Come on," She muttered, glancing furtively at her companion.

Nathan

"Don't blink," Said a voice behind Lu, just before Nathan brought his fist down with more force and speed than almost anybody could hope to stop. If it didn't hit it's target, it would surely impact the pillar below him, shattering it into shards.

"Or else you might miss me." He finished, disappearing again. He phased into existence about three meters away, waiting for a reaction.

[Assistant]
Oriel

Oriel followed up the instructions given to her to a T, something that may have seemed really strange given her usual behavior, but she seemed pretty diligent now that she had to train to become a mage hunter, or whatever it is called. She just wondered, how come she was selected to be one? It's not like she had been for a long while in the guild, to be honest, and this Ajax guy seemed to have just gotten to know both Aiden and her, so what brought up the recruitment bit? Maybe that just showed how friggin' awesome she was, or at least that's what she thought. Having gone into the guild just a bit ago and alraedy having her abilities recognized by the big shot like that, it was truly something to be proud of.

After getting the supplies and everything else to the place Ajax told her to, Oriel got ready for the next part of their training. She took her tonfas and got ready to rumble, going up the stairs just below Aiden. Once on the outside, she whistled with amazement. Rather than hostile it seemed.... desolated. And that same thing made it dangerous. There was about nothing around in an incredible radius all around the facility. "Seems dandy for a picnic, don't you think guys?" Oriel said, smiling a bit.

Then again, the next thing that came out from Ajax mind did come out as a surprise for Oriel. Ajax said that they needed to fight him at their fullest, but that was definitely not possible. If Oriel went all out on the fuy, Wizard Saint or not, Dragon Slayer or not, he'd burn to a crisp without a doubt. Not to say anything about how Oriel would end up, with barely any strength to stand. Ajax would have to make do with Oriel's maximum output without raising her trump card. "Okay! But don't come crying to us when you get your ass kicked, Jaxxy!" With Ajax's newly acquired nickname on him, she snapped her fingers and made her tonfas ignite.

She decided to let Aiden have the first strike, and she saw him being serious for the first time. That dragon whatever mode he had looked really dangerous. After Aiden finished up his attack and said that they should see how far they can push him, a huge smirk came to Oriel's face. "I'm on it!" It was now Oriel's turn, and she took a running start, ready to strike at Ajax.

She jumped and aimed a kick at Ajax's head, making sure she didn't get in the way of Aiden's attack, hoping a two pronged attack would do the work. He did say that he wanted them to come at him with all they had, even if it meant that both of them attacked him at once, or at least, so Oriel thought. "This kick ain't got no fancy name, but it does hurt like hell!" She said. Of course, she wasn't sure of whether or not the kick would connect, but regardless of the outcome, she'd roll away from him and wait for him to make his move. She was reckless as fuck, but she didn't plan on dying anytime soon, and something told her that messing too much with this guy would end up in just that. So, they had to finish things up quickly, or face the consequences.

[User]
Jeanne - The Archangel

"Good day to you as well, Revan. Pleasant, is it not?" Jeanne quipped amusingly as the two caught up with Hana. With the illusion long gone, and the true scale of the desolation in plain view, it was truly a saddening sight to see. What was just as troubling, if not more was the way by which Hana spoke. Even for an S-Rank Magi, it seemed as if she were going to be acting far too reckless for the situation.

She could sense it, pulsing in the depths beneath the travesty that lay before them. A true monstrosity, a wielder of power beyond her own imagining lay in the deep, simply waiting to be reborn.

Beyond anything, even at the cost of her own life, it must absolutely be stopped. Yet this concern did not display itself upon her complexion in the least, as she glanced to Revan as Hana left in a blur of speed and reckless abandon. With a sigh of resignation, the Angelic Magi looked to the Demonic.

"Well, it seems as if I'll be indisposed for awhile. Do take care, Revan." She uttered softly, reaching over as she drifted through the air for second to caress his cheek. With a radiant smile to him, she furled her wings inward to drop towards the earth, only spreading her wings wider yet at the last moment and turning towards the direction by which Hana had sprinted off. Using the speed gained by the fall, she arrived only a few seconds after that of her comrade.

With a gust of wind that announced her arrival, her toes lightly touched the ground first as she arrived and descended slowly. To Hana, she would hear but a singular phrase. "Fret not dear Hana. I believe we can depend on our other teammates to hold off a little while longer. Let us work together here and expedite this, shall we?"

Casting her hand to the side, a flash of glistening light signified the creation of several dozen swords of pure white fire to appear in the air. Five dozen of which cast themselves into the sky around Augustine. Two dozen of them stayed with Jeanne. While the towers attempted to collapse but failed in taking so many with them, the swords poured in not moments later and claimed just as many if not more. Hewing many an adversary into two separate halves while righteous judgment rained from the sky. After crippling what little weakened defense might have remained, the blades continually rained divine punishment upon those that would do evil. The numerous vines that had been summoned would easily find themselves suddenly rend asunder by Jeanne's vengeance.

It were almost as if it could sense them, and if it did, it would hunt each monstrosity down with zealotry comparable to the inquisition chasing heretics in the days of old.

For those who served the darkness, no longer was there a place that was safe. There was only death, and it came swiftly.

Hana then recklessly rushed in, and Jeanne calmly proceeded in behind her. Walking, instead of running. With a maelstrom of holy fire swirling about her.

Any evil that dared attack herself or Hana would be either cut to ribbons, or promptly turned to ash.

[Assistant]
Niti Laevis

"Things are getting a bit shitty," Niti muttered under his breath as his sunny environment quickly dissolved into one that is filled with blood, ruins, and hooded cultists. There wasn't much to worry though. Sure, there were more enemies who popped out of nowhere and claimed that everybody will feast on the flesh of some beast called Walpurgisnacht (whatever that is), but the upside is that back-up came in the sudden appearance of S-Classed wizards. If he were to look off into the distance, he could see some of the Harpies and Bolt Vypers already in action.

"Welp, better not disappoint my team. Can't let them have all the fun." The Soap Mage pocketed the note that had smacked him from behind, and turned to Mamba with a playful wink. "Still need that barrier, Dreamboat?" Without waiting to hear an answer, Niti raised his arms as he close his eyes. He concentrated his magic and took steady breaths, preparing for what's to come. Above his head, a green magic circle appeared. Materializing an armada of bubbles, they rapidly fired into the sky in one giant column of shimmering orbs. They soon began to stack on top of each other and started to surround the town with its vast numbers.

"Bubble Barrier!" With a flick of his wrist, the bubbles merged into one smooth surface.

The whole town was soon inside a giant translucent dome with walls more durable then it seems and capable of doing one noticeable feat. If an attack or person attack the barrier's with enough power, numerous bubbles would emerge from its surface and wraps itself against the strike, either immobilizing the person or cushioning enough of its power to cancel out the attack.

"No enemy will escape this town!" Niti announced with tired pride, his voice quivering slightly under the heavy use of magic required to cover the entire town plus any allies within his radius. Perspiration coated his form as his skin looked slightly paled. Nevertheless, he stood strong despite the mass amount of magic that seeped from his body and into the barrier to keep constant maintenance. He let out a small smile at the sight when radiant beams of light rain down from the skies of Augustine. Large quantities of debris that came from the destroyed towers and spires fell from the sky. Some of the wreckage hurdled toward the town only to bounce off the barrier harmlessly, leaving not even a scratch on the surface and maybe a few residues of bubbles.

"Well, at least, not if they wanna live." He added, recognizing the destructive Magic that belongs to a certain guildmate. "Anyone else wanna help with the barrier?"

[User]
Bristlebane looked around somewhat confusedly, a lot of stuff had started happening really fast. From what he could gather of the situation, a bunch of demons had showed up and everyone had started kicking butt. He looked around eagerly for an opponent only to find a barrage of vines headed towards him, he backed up incinerating them with his jetfire ring while retrieving his golden sword. To his frustration more of the vines appeared and to his distress it appeared they were surrounding him. Seeing a fellow guildmate in danger, Caroline something or another, he decided that it would be best to regroup. Bristlebane hurled his travel stone vanishing just as the vines around him attempted to smash him into dust.

 He appeared next to Caroline his golden sword swinging in a shimmering path cutting through the vines behind her and clearing a small space around them. "Hey there need some help?" he asked cheerfully, the smile was wiped off his face however when he was upstaged by some angel chick summoning far to many large shiny swords of death. Show-off Bristlebane thought to himself grumpily as he looked at the vines suspiciously, it wasn't sure whether they would grow back or not after the beating the took.


[System]
Nicknames: My pals call me Ren~. Always did think Rendaz was a stupid name anyway.
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Affiliation: The Grimwald Family (Former)
Bounty: My clients haven't snitched yet, it seems. Teehee~.
Position: Navigator

Specifics

Appearance:

Personality: I am a young man who is outwardly cheery and enjoys making puns as well as hearing them... I'm starting out boring. Uuuhh... Oh! I like the taste of mangoes! No, wait, I'm supposed to be talking about my personality, right? Gotcha! I'm pretty easygoing and I'm friendly to everyone who doesn't share my last name~. Just know that if you are a Grimwald I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU~! What else... Oh! I don't like the government because they've been after the Grimwalds for a looooooong time. Like, probably since my great-great-great-great-great grandpa was still in diapers! Cuz of that, they're after me too and it really sucks. I repay all favors, because, you know the saying "you scratch my back, I buy ya hookers." Except the ones from that island filled with cannibals. They eat people's balls of! That's a big no-no! I like to relax by reading books. Any book will do. Give me a porn book and I'll read it in its entirety. If not reading, then I play a mean harmonica!

History: I was a kid born with a different name. See, the Grimwalds give the name Rendaz to the "best" offspring. So, they pit the kids of the next generation into a sort of tournament to see who claims the title. Fun, no~? We're a proud family, you see. The Grimwalds are the one of the most deadliest assassin families in history. We name the "best" kid Rendaz after the first Rendaz. He was the best at what he does... sewing! Oh, wait, I mean killing! The best at sewing goes to my other great-great-great-great-great grandpa. He's not important. So after the first Rendaz, it became a family tradition to earn the title of "Rendaz" after the current one dies. Why? I don't have a fuckin' clue.

Now, originally, my older sister was supposed to claim the title, but seeing as ma and pa noticed that she was weak in their eyes, they had me! I was her replacement, and yet she did not care. My sister cared for me like any sister should. And she still trained like hell just to prove that she could be the next "Rendaz". The tournament came, and in the last round, it was me against my big sis in a fight to the death. Shocker. I didn't want to fight, but she went at me with the intent to kill! Holy shit! I had to defend myself! So I did so. I dealt the fatal blow. She died in my arms telling me how proud she was of me and that she was sorry that gaining the title clouded what was most important to her. The only logical thing left to do was to let out my anger by killing the people that pitted me against my sister. I got seven of 'em - that includes my dumbass dad. I was damn good, but the rest got away.

I worked as a mercenary for hire after that. Mostly took up assassination jobs. Though, to this day I still look for the other Grimwalds. I can't wait to plunge my knife into their chest.... Ohohohohoho~! I look forward to that day. So.... uuuhhh... how's that for a resume?

Weapons: I have a sword, a few knives around my belt. A hidden blade on each sleeve... And a pen. It's fun to stab people on the neck with a pen. I have a pretty sharp eye, so I carry two handguns on me too. Oh, and some sick threads!

Power/Skill: Grim Execution... or as I like to call it, "Grimwald's Assassination techniques for dummies". Apparently we're skilled enough to mask our presences and use that to our advantage. Pretty basic thing. We enter this state where our sense get enhanced as well as a few things like strength, speed, and stamina. It's called the "Grim State" apparently. Yeesh, who makes up these names?

Techniques:

Shadow Sneak - With a drastic increase of speed, I head for a strike with a sword or knife so fast I look like a silhouette when I pass by.

Cross Poison - I just... dip my knives in poison and slash in an X-formation. Pretty straightforward.

Scarecrow - I stab yer feet to the ground with my knives to sit ya still and shoot ya multiple times. Fun~.

"Not the Intended Use" - I aim for your neck and stab you with my pen. They always did say the thing to be mightier than the sword. Might as well put it to use~!

Merry-Go-Round - I wrap really strong thread around your neck, spin kick your legs, and continue spinning so fast you're decapitated before the ride's over. Did I mention the threads can cut through you like butter? No? Well they can.

Other: I ain't into seafood, but I'll eat it if I have to. B-But crabs and lobster is where I draw the line! None of that shit! Bad touch! Bad touch!

[User]
Tick, tock, tick tock. The sound of a clock coming from a shock collar attracted the customers.

Shiro lied down in a fetal position, facing a corner so only his back could be seen. The park was open and children with their parents were gathering around his rather small cage "The bunny isn't doing anything, he's boring and smells!" One of the kids said.

"I'M A RABBIT YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Shiro yelled after turning his head to the kid. The kid was shocked at first before crying into his mother's arms. The mom glared at Shiro before storming off. "Punk ass bitch lucky I'm stuck in here. Like to see how great you smell after being locked up for a year." He turned his head back around, cutting away at a spoon and making it into a shiv. In front of him was a small hole with another thinner shiv and 3 carrots all sharpened. His ears twitched "Oh shit, oh shit" He quickly got up, moving dirt back over the hole to hide his only hope of escape.

Shiro sat up straight in a proper position, his hands crossed like a saint. "WHERES THAT PESKY WABBIT, CAUSING ALL THAT TWOUBLE?!" Shiro kept a calm face, snickering inside the entire time. "WABBIT, DID YOU CALL THAT KID THE B WOWD?!" Shiro opened his mouth in surprise "M-me? Well i'd never do something mean to our future generations! After all, they are the hope of our futuwe" The bald man's eye twitched, pulling out a remote control and pushing a button. Immediately after, a constant shock came from Shiro's collar forcing his body to spasm and shake violently

"I TOLD YOU WABBIT TO STOP MOCKING ME" Shiro, with what little strength he had, moved his index finger to tell the bald man to come closer. The bald man, Mr. Fudd, moved his ear close enough to hear Shiro "I-I-I'm sowwy AHAHAHAHAHA" He bursted into laughter before the intensity was increased, still laughing through the pain. "If thats how you want it wabbit, then we'll play your game!" Mr. Fudd turned the dial to almost full power, Shiro's eyes turning a bloodshot red before rapidly growing in size and letting out a roar of pain. The people were amazed at the rabbits sudden transformation, clapping their hands. "Behold ladies and gentlemen, the transfowming Wab-no, The Transfowming Bunny!" More people began to gather around his small cage. It was going according to Shiro's plan.

[Assistant]
Chirashi sat in the kitchen, looking over the marines cook books. "Hmmm, Let's see here. Nothing about veggies for breakfast." He rubbed his chin, So this just meant he would need to create his own veggie style breakfast. "Wait, She's a rabbit, Rabbits like fruit too." He continued to rub his chin. But... a vegetable for breakfast hadn't really been done and it was far more fascinating an attempt. With that he had the plan!

He would make a carrot cake... but PANCAKES! That's right, Carrots, brown sugar, flour, water, milk, some nice walnuts... yeah it would be great! Chirashi began to furiously work on his latest creation. Carrot Pancakes! Once he had a decent stack, he plowed through some french toast. A fresh blueberry sauce, seven kinds of omelettes, a few steaks, fried chicken and a couple waffles. Yes... Yes, truly this would be the breakfast to satisfy all tastes!

The fishman's hands flew about the kitchen like a samurai on the battlefield. As he finished, he threw the plates onto the table and let out his massive scream. "FOODS UP YOU DEGENERATES!"

[User]
He woke up, not to the sound of silence but the sound of circus music. Just where have they sailed to... Why is there circus music playing in the middle of the sea? He rubbed the weariness from his eyes and fastened his dual holsters, holding his pistols, to his waist and secured his katana to that holster belt as well. Grabbing a light, airy, coat from his pack, he draped it over his shoulders and walked away from where he had gone to rest the night before.

The air was heavy with the scent of sweets and food. There was a fog, concealing anything that would need to be hidden. This naturally made him feel uncomfortable. Scanning his surroundings quickly, all he was able to discern was the noise coming from the kitchen. It seems their cook is whipping up something tasty once again. In his mind, he had the imagery of a fisherman, slicing sashimi and flicking his wrist while stirring a pot of liquid, perhaps some sort of sauce. That imagery was pure comedy to him. Walking into the kitchen, he greeted the chef with a "Good morning." He then sat down, surprised about the fact that no one else has made it to the table yet. "Looks like I get to taste it first..." He picked up a fork, plated himself a steak, two pancakes, a french toast, some of the sauce and readied himself for the food in front of him. "Thanks for the breakfast." He said as he began eating.

When the ship's doctor should show up, he would ask him "Hey, so, I've been wondering. There are tons of nerves in the human, or living creature's, body, right? So, what if, I can hit them with such precision that I can control what I do to them? Like, I hit a nerve, they suffer the worst pain ever, or if I hit another nerve, utter euphoria. I mean, that would be pretty cool right? I was wondering if you can show me what each nerves does in the human body, like their corresponding reactions once triggered... Hitting them with precision isn't the issue, but knowing what they do is..." He said, "Also, I was also thinking about making special, nonlethal bullets for my weapons...I wonder who would know how to do that for me...I mean, hitting a person's pain nerve by shooting straight through it is effective and all, but just not...not quite right...Ah....." He said, deep in thought...

@samreaper

[Assistant]
Rendaz lazily opened his eyes and brought his hands out from behind his head, awakening from Chirashi's loud call. He had chosen to sleep on the crow's nest because, well, crow's nest were cool. And he called dibs. He rose to his feet and peered down. "Degenerates? How insulting! At the very least I'm a scum! ... Or is that worse?" He shouted back. Taking a step back, he then proceeded to inspect himself and check on his weapons in case he misplaced them. Once he was done, he nodded to himself and jumped off the crow's nest and made it to the lower part of the ship's net jumped again, this time landing on the main deck.

"Gooooood morning, world and all of its inhabitants!" He voiced at the top of his lungs. He couldn't help it. He got a great amount of sleep. All four hours in fact; and yes, four hours only. Since defecting he could no longer pull off a whole seven hours. So instead of heading off to sleep like most of the crew, Ren was up late into the night wandering around the ship. He performed leisurely activities such as stargazing, having a midnight snack, and watching some of the crew sleep. He made sure to mask his presence, of course. He wouldn't want his new allies to think of him as weird. Especially since he was a few inches away from their sleeping form; just standing there with a smile on his face.

"Hey, Chira, I'll be skipping breakfast. I'm not hungry." He called. With the steak being the biggest meal he had eaten in a long while, Ren knew he could survive on that a lot longer in comparison to what he ate before.

"Mornin', boss-man." He said as he passed by Roma, giving him a quick pat on the back and proceed forward to the front of the ship where he watched as they drew closer to an island. "... I got a bad feeling about this... and I like it~."


[System]
General Information
* Gender: Female
* Sexuality: Heterosexual
* Age: 21
* Home Nation: Half Hearing, Half Touch

Appearance
Penetrating green eyes, a delicate and elegant face and immaculately white skin and hair give Karina quite the unique and exotic appearance. Her body although small and apparently delicate hides a surprisingly agile, dexterous and flexible frame, fruit of her training. Usually wears an military style uniform with her hair tied and a cap. On formal occasions she unties her hair and prefers to wear dresses.

Bio
Karina was born out of the unusual union of a scholar from the Nation of Hearing and a general from the Nation of Touch. By the choice of her father, she went to live on together with her mother on her home nation as he wanted her to have a peaceful life, away from the chaos of war. On the Nation of Hearing, Karina would show her love for knowledge as her and her mother often passed their time studying together.
But unfortunately, having a life away from the was wasn't something that Karina would be able to enjoy for much longer... When she was only 10 years old, her mother fell ill with a very serious, contagious disease. Without any other option, Karina had to go to live with her father on the Nation of Touch.

There on the Nation of Touch, Karina's father became cold and even more distant, dedicating his entire time to his work trying to forget the pain from losing his loved one. Karina on the other hand was literally raised amongst soldiers and other high patent officers. Her education was already very good, in fact, it was better than most people, since she was herself the daughter of an scholar, but there were some things that her mother couldn't teach her in the pacifist Nation of Hearing. It was only natural that being so instructed and intelligent, she would learn certain military knowledge fast as she heard her father talking with other officers. But another one of those things was Fencing. After seeing two high patent officer sparring, she immediately fell in love with the Rapier. It didn't resemble violence, it was almost a dance. The way the officers moved almost effortlessly through the room, their rapiers singing as the edges kissed themselves... It was the perfect balance between violence and art. Since that moment, fencing became another one of Karina's hobbies, other than studying and debating with other officers about military strategies & etc.

As she grew older, as the General's daughter and after proving herself to be knowledgeable enough that not giving her a patent was deemed an absolute waste of talent, nobody dared to mistreat her. Known as the 'flower' of the military due to her beautiful looks and because she was always walking around the headquarters, either reading, talking with seasoned officers (often surprising her due to her intellect) or practicing her fencing, her influence grew both by her father's position and her patent.

Maybe because of her mixed blood or maybe due to her spending half of her life on the Nation of Hearing and the other half on the Nation of Touch, when Karina turned 15, a very unique magic awakened on her. Completely the opposite from the usual Tempraisionism magic that was common to the Nation of Touch, Karina was able to use the humidity and the cold on the air in various forms. Incredibly dangerous against other Tempraisionists due to her strength being their weaknesses, it was almost an irony that an officer from the Military of Touch having such magical talent... After that fact became known by the others on the Nation of Touch, she started being referred by some people as "The Ice Flower of the Nation of Touch".

Personality
Despite her nickname as 'The Ice Flower', Karina is actually not that cold when around friends. Enjoying a good conversation and often seen with a mysterious, but enchanting smile on her face, she is a real treat to look at.

Despite her quiet demeanor, she certainly has a very strong personality, maybe due to her father or to the fact that she was raised in the military, but her enchanting smile can turn into a real cold stare when angry and her cold but firm words are famous around the army for being able to frighten even a seasoned soldier.

When amongst other soldiers or in a combat situation though, Karina is almost a completely different person. Really living up to her nickname as the Ice Flower, she is practical, logical and cold both regarding strategizing or fighting herself.

Quirks:
Karina has a soft spot for sweets and hot beverages such as hot chocolate.

Skills
* Fencing: Karina developed her own style of fencing. More agile and elegant than the normal fencing, it's characterized by it's high mobility, deadly lunges, feints and extremely fast movements. While it lacks brute, raw strength, it more than makes up with agility and dexterity. Hence why the Rapier is the perfect weapon for her.
* Adept of Hearing: Just like her mother, Karina is an adept of hearing. Unlike her who used it for music and to distinguish the small difference in musical notes, Karina uses it in a much finer and complex way. By concentrating herself, she can go as far as hearing someone's heartbeats or their movements in order to be able to react much faster than she normally could.
* Natural Resistance to cold: Due to her magic and the fact that she trains so much with it, Karina developed a certain resistance to cold. Enough to allow her to use her magic for some time before she needs to stop.

Magic
Cryomancy:

Using the surrounding air temperature, or even her by lowering her bodily temperature, she can create ice in a myriad of ways. Be it creating blades made of concentrated ice to control through the air and cut her enemies, lowering the air temperature in order to counter Tempraisionists or even by lowering another person's bodily temperature in case she hits them with one of her ice blades or with her rapiers. Coupled with her fencing, it is incredibly dangerous as she can overpower opponents much stronger and tough than herself by lowering their bodies' temperature with each cut.

The drawback is that if the air temperature is high, she will have to resort to lower her own body's temperature and depending on how much time she does it, she can even pass out with hypothermia. Using clothes that preserve the bodily temperature like gloves, coats & etc. can allow her to use her magic even when the temperature of the air around her is a bit higher than the necessary for her to use her magic. In the other hand, when the climate is cold, Karina can use her magic almost freely.

Weaknesses
* Heat: Exactly the opposite from normal Tempraisionism, if the air around her is too hot (for example... if she is around a fireplace or something like that) She will need to use much more energy than normal to use her magic.
* Brute Strength: Karina is not that heavy or tall. In a contest of brute strength, she will most likely loose. This also means that if someone pins her down, she won't be able to get out by herself without resorting to magic.
* Too many blades: When creating concentrated ice blades, Karina can only create and maintain a maximum of 4 blades at the same time.

Equipment

Almost a piece of art, this rapier's blade was forged with an special method. It's dark red colored blade has an intricate pattern, formed naturally due to the way the steel was forged. It was a gift from her father when she became an officer. A little something he did trying to redeem himself for being such a distant father.

[User]
Chres

---

Chres hit the ground as Týfurkh let loose an explosion different than he expected. Not an explosion of fire, but an explosion of sound instead. The resonance chamber erupted in a loud boom. Its force ripping several thinner tendrils, their severed bits falling to the ground. The thicker tendrils, however, only had chunks taken out of them.

Chres took down the heat construct around Týfurkh. The seed roared in anger. Pools of greenish-Yellow blood oozing out of the seed's wounds

"We have an opening!" Chres shouted.

"WE-WE-WE-WE..." Speech seemed to have become difficult for Nieffar after turning into a seed. "WE SEE-SEE-SEE-SEE..."

Black sprouts shot out of the Seed's wounds, twisting together like vines. They clotted the pools of flowing Seed blood far faster than a normal Sightless and worked quickly to regenerate the missing tendrils.

Chres' eyes widened. If they didn't act soon then they would lose their chance to take out one of the hearts. Chres rushed forward but paused when he noticed that the four thickest tendrils had shifted their attention to Týfurkh. All four raised high, about to crush him.

Chres cursed. Someone else would have to take a go at one of the hearts. Turning on his heels, he raced towards Týfurkh and quickly Weaved a protective barrier above them.

The first tendril came smashing down with a deafening sound. The Heat construct held. The second tendril hit. The construct almost seemed to groan from the impact. The third tendril hit. The construct cracked. Chres' heart skipped a beat.

"GO! GO! GO!" He shouted to Týfurkh in quick succession.

The forth tendril came down with a crash. the construct shattered. Chres jumped out of the way, and barely avoided getting crushed.

[Assistant]
And with that, it was over. The group had managed to overcome the sightless and overwhelm him. Sightless Talne was felled and with it they had done the incredible. They had fought and won against one of the hardest foes they would encounter in this cult. Truthfully just eliminating of them felt like a grand victory of sorts, but they were not finished yet. This was but a detour from their true objective, which was to destroy the seed, and with that its hold on the people they had controlled with their insight.

The descent downwards into the cellar greeted them with a foul odor of rotting flesh. It was a charnal house with rotting half eaten corpses strewn around this monstrosity. In the center was what appeared to Jen, a morbid, and grotesque imitation of a seedling sprouting in the basement. Nieffar would appear and reveal the truth of what this thing was. It was Lord O'Kal who had been given enough insight to become this freaky tree-monster. It made Jen's hair raise as he understood the type of fate that would befall Anís should he fail to get her in time, and also what he'd have to do with Chres when the time came.

Nieffar would then merge with the seed, which somehow didn't surprise him. Which was probably because he was expecting some sort of complication to their task of killing the seed. The fleshy tendrils would fly at everyone, and Jen responded with a lean so low the tendrils passed over him. Týfurkh would come up with a plan of attack using fire which Jen would along with. As soon he yelled "Cover!" Fiery splinters would light up the cellar as Jen to whatever would act as cover. The seed would roar in pain as the wood skewered its foul tendrils spilling its foul blood everywhere.

Chres would yell that they had an opening, and that Týfurkh needed to get a move on. One of the tendrils seemed rather low-lying and ready to be attacked. Jen would swiftly go to it, his staff would swing down on it. His swing would be endowed with sufficient strength to keep it pinned hopefully. Should it be pinned, it would mean the others could destroy one of the hearts.

[User]
Karina heard Chres' words in silence, nodding afterwards. Sightless Nieffar, after becoming one with the seed was proving to be a much tougher enemy than she had anticipated. The tendrils were making even defending themselves a difficult task, let alone finding any room to attack it. With brief and direct orders, Karina instructed her soldiers to focus on long range attacks to try and distract the seed, with Karina herself using her ice blades to try and distract the sightless as well.

With Týfurkh finally giving the signal he was about to trigger the explosion, Karina looked around to her soldiers and the rest of the group.

"Get down!" Karina said, warning the soldiers about the explosion, just a few seconds before Týfurkh let out a fierce, sound explosion.

Karina could feel the underground chamber they were in shaking as the sound explosion echoed within it's walls. Fortunately, Karina, the soldiers and even Chres weren't the only ones who were dazed by the explosion. A single glance was enough to tell them that the seed was in a much worse state than they were, it seemed like Týfurkh's gamble had indeed paid off.

Despite it's wounded state though, it seemed like the seed still had enough energy to resist. The tendrils that were gone after the explosion were regenerated with a frightening speed and thicker than before. Using it's regenerated tendrils, the seed immediately focused Týfurkh, swinging them and aiming to crush him. By luck, Chres had enough time to create a heat construct to stop the tendrils, although their weight and impact were so much, that it was evident even for Karina that they wouldn't hold on forever.

The moment the heat construct shattered, Karina stepped forward, calling all her four ice blades back to her, sending two to attack the tendrils and draw her attention while using her rapier, the two remaining ice blades and her agility to dodge the tendrils.

"I will keep the tendrils busy for as long as I can! Go after the heart!" Karina said as she dodged one of the tendrils by centimeters, the impact of it hitting the ground almost making her lose her footing.

"Go, NOW!" Karina shouted as she continued attacking, trying to focus all the tendrils' attention on her, while using everything she could to dodge and redirect their blows.