[System]
Age: 32

Race: Human

Mage?: No

Place of Origin: Fereldan, Ironbrook

Appearance: Rannon stands tall and solidly built, with earthy brown hair, long enough to be tied at the base of his neck. His eyes are reminiscent of shaped wrought iron. His face now only echoes his youthful appearance, battles and years having roughed him into the look of a mature, even veteran soldier. Two scars mar his face. One parallel to the bottom of his left eye, and another scraping across his right jawline. His legs are long and his his facial hair is only a coarse shadow thanks to his knife. He's clad in fine and tough leather over a chainmail hauberk, with sturdy traveling shoes and a worn belt.

Personality: Rannon seems to be the epitome of the Ferelden ideal. His fierce independence and rough nature can only be matched by his loyalty to those he deems worthy. He has a deep seated national pride and sees the world as Ferelden does, taking others and judging them by their deeds rather than their blood. Years in the army and surviving pivotal battles have tempered his recklessness, but never fully. Learning the sword and how to work within ranks of his fellows showed him how to pick his movements and his battles, though he always seems to be ready for another scrap. That is to say, he will never fight for the sake of fighting and appreciates the quiet when he can salvage some. Only that he feels the world is forever dangerous, and won't be made soft or be fooled by the 8 years of relative peace that have settled over the land. He's pragmatic and won't hesitate to use the landscape or offhanded strikes to defeat an opponent, though if he is openly challenged he will honor it and see it to the end. He often likes thinking of what ifs and battle scenarios as he travels the. The warrior tends to be very self critical of himself and his decisions, and he takes the actions he makes very seriously.
Rannon respects Dwarves, the tales of quarreling Nobles in Orzammar not registering to him from the above-ground fighters he has seen. Oddly enough, he does not blame mages for who they are or what they practice, though he is still very wary around them. Templars he's on the fence, for while they do a valuable service in protecting civilization from rampant magic, they're still oppressors. He has a special distrust for the Orlesians and the Tevinter Imperium. Quanari he sees has little better than Darkspawn unless shown otherwise, from the tales he's heard in Starkhaven, and his blade never tires of spilling Darkspawn blood. Elves are a mystery to him, never knowing if they are trustworthy and simply wish independence like his fellow Fereldans, or if they truly are the cause of the Brecilian Forest's cursed nature. He has an intense respect for Ash warriors and canines, thinking himself far from good enough for his hound's attention. He's always dreamed of joining the Grey Wardens, but never sought them out.

Backstory: Rannon was born under the Arl of Southreach, in the village of Ironbrook. He was born only 8 days before from the holiday Funalis. His father worked as a craftsman of leather, and his mother grew wild herbs for medicinal purposes just outside the village, though always in sight of the walls. He was the oldest of three, all boys. His brothers were Edmund (2 years younger) and Wilfrid (4 years younger), and he was often charged with keeping them safe and out of trouble, though he played the role of protector more often than his parents believed. He would get into fights and chases with other boys around his age over his brother's wild nature and sometimes even his own. He didn't mind though, and grew to see it as a competition he could always get better in. It was further driven home with his father, for he'd share tales of the Alamarri driving back to Tevinter Imperium to Rannon if he did a fine job helping with his father's shop that day. He was drawn in, and pride for his nation and his town bloomed within his heart. The fact that his village bordered the cursed wilds furthered that line of thinking.
When he came of age, he went off to serve as a Soldier for the Arl. His tendency to swing first and ask questions later was partially beaten out of him from his Knight trainer, Arlun. He even attempted to fight the Knight at one point, which led to a nasty welt on his forehead from his sword hilt. Among the soldiers, jests were sometimes made at Leonas Bryland for his half Orlesian ancestry, but it was just that, a jest. They never questioned their Arl or his loyalty, all knowing full well that he followed Prince Maric in the Fereldan Rebellion. Rannon aquired some companions of his own, a few of the fellow trainees, Aart, Gavin, Leopuld, and Rochen. Many times they would joke at each others expense and talk the night away until wearied limbs and bruised muscles dragged them into slumber. He was then allowed to go home when he reached 21, provided he would return for service if called. He traveled back to Ironbrook and worked for his father, making saddles and leather coats, even learning how to ride a horse a bit from a particular favor he gave for a free saddle.
He was called though, nearing his 24th birthday. The fifth blight had begun, and Rannon went straight into Arl Bryland's ranks, joining with his friends and then being initiated into King Cailan's ranks. The calm before the storm was almost too much for many soldiers among the torn buildings of Ostagar. Darkspawn being monsters from legend and their camp being at the cusp of the Korcari wilds was a new thing to many commoners. To Rannon it was no different than dealing with rumors of monsters from the Brecilian, and he marveled more at the Ash Warriors and their magnificent Mabaris. Still, he could feel the his mettle rising with each day, until that fateful night at the Battle of Ostagar. Cailan's strategy seemed almost flawless, the way the horde advanced in such a mindless charge. But even watching the monsters themselves was almost too much for him, and he didn't think he could find the strength to swing his sword.
That is, until the battle commenced. His fear left him, finding when the blood began to shed, one was too busy to think of fear. He hacked and stabbed, carving through a small number of darkspawn and hoping the blood in his mouth was his own. Sweat and grime was rampant, and the shrieks were almost defeaning. He did not know how long the battle lasted or how much he fought, but eventually he found himself one amid a mere few hundred scattered soldiers against the Darkspawn ranks. He heard the horns, and knew the battle would turn with the reinforcements set in motion. But as they fought on, it dawned on him as it did on every soldier. No one was coming. He wiped the blood from the cut across his chin, and as his vision unblurred he saw a open-eyed Gavin being stabbed repeatedly, his friend's body already cold as three Darkspawn made sport of his corpse. He steeled himself and ran forward, Leopuld and Rochen with him. He didn't know where Aart was, and he would never find out. Rochen fell with a split skull, trying to avenge Gavin. Leopuld and Rannon were the only one's left standing, until more monsters charged in. They backpeddled, their swords leading to fend off the cruel blades of their enemies and swiftly counter attack with fierce thrusts, working in practiced concert. They began to retreat in full, until Leopuld was struck in the hip with an arrow. He fell, and Rannon stopped, reaching down to help him up.
"You have to go!" Leopuld told him, and Rannon looked between him and the advancing terrors. His friend saw the look in Rannon's eye. Again Leopuld told him to run, but Rannon almost charged. He would have charged.
He should have charged...

Notable items:
Two Handed Sword: In many ways it mirrors its wielder. Sharp, powerful, but bloodstained and notched from use.
Long Knife: He wears in his right boot.
Necklace of beads: Green and woven meticulously by his mother.

[User]
Rannon wasn't one to not say what he meant. If he found Loghain, he knew he wouldn't stop until he saw the man dead. Not only for what he did to Ferelden, not only because Rannon had given his word, but because his best friends had all fallen on that field. What right did Rannon have to still be breathing (Or Loghain for that matter)? A swift death avenging them only to be killed by Loghain's guards seemed ideal, he realized. So he could see his brothers again. So he didn't need to live with this shame, and so he could die honorably. Not in some bed sixty years from now. Where was the glory in that?

Still...he supposed the Blight could swallow them all up eventually. Somehow in this war, he would die. He couldn't shake the feeling he was living on borrowed time now that all of his squad had been destroyed. He'd keep that a secret for now. It wasn't exactly a feeling that one brought up in conversation, and he didn't want to worry Feri anymore. Right now there was wrongs to be righted, and two friends to be seen to Redcliffe.

"You're right," he said, honestly agreeing they needed to see the Arl. He reached up and rubbed one of the 'X' scars on his cheek, feeling it, as he sometimes felt his scars when trying to think properly. "Let's head over there and see the Arl. Sorry I just..."

He realized he'd apologized quite a bit recently. He wasn't used to it, honestly. Usually he was blunt and he didn't care who heard it. He guessed Feri was already growing on him. He let out a frustrated groan as he grinned at himself in a self depreciating manner. "Thanks Feri. How's about we walk for a bit? I think we're just a few days short of a town if we head northeast, and stretching my legs would do me some good I think."

Gideon barked in agreement, wagging his tail so hard it shook his body, which was in turn rubbing into Feri.

[Assistant]
Glad to see a smile back on Rannon's face, Feri agreed, laughing as Gideon's wagging hind-quarters kept bumping into her.

"I think we've made him excited at the word "walk"." Giving Gideon another scratch on the ears, Feri gathered her things together; putting her corset and coat back on to save her carrying them as the trio journeyed.

---

---

After a good few hours of hard walking, the trees around them began to thin out, marking the end of the Kokari Wilds and their entrance into the Hinterlands. While not exactly safe from the Darkspawn, Rannon and Feri had been lucky in avoiding any other attacks during their trek through the forests, and they had travelled quite some distance by keeping their breaks short and infrequent. However, as they entered safer lands, Feri felt spent. For Rannon, perhaps it was easier to walk so long and so fast with his long legs... but Feri was rather short, and her legs did not fare well over long distances. As told to her by her mother, Dwarves were natural sprinters, and were very dangerous over short distances. They were not however, built for cross-country jogging. Her human half wasn't doing much to help her, and with slightly winded breath, she collapsed onto a rock near a large outcropping, holding her head in her hands for a moment.

"Rannon - I think perhaps we should get some rest. The light is dying, and we'll need to be up early tomorrow to make the most of the daylight." She said, tone heavy with exhaustion as she sat up and looked back to him. The sun was on the cusp of setting, lighting the sky with brilliant orange and pink hues, casting long shadows across the grassy earth. "Besides, I don't think my legs will work again now that I've sat down. My feet are killing me." Feri kicked her boots off with a groan, looking at the still upright Rannon expectantly.

"Well? Let's get a fire going! This is a good a place to camp as any." She said, struggling to her feet in just her socks with a strained smile at the soldier and his dog. There were plenty of trees nearby, the grounds littered with dead sticks and branches - with the lack of rain for a few days, it meant everything was bone dry. Perfect for a warm, crackling fire against the cold of the night.

In no time at all, the three were settled by the fire, the sun completely set and the sky clear enough to see the stars above. Head upturned to gaze upon the wondrous sight, Feri smiled before turning back to her small cooking pot. The stew inside was plain, but it would fill the two rumbling bellies of herself and Rannon.

"Are you from Redcliffe, Rannon?" She asked as she sprinkled some salt into the pot, giving it another stir before turning back to him. Their walk had been so exhausting, the two hadn't had much time to discuss anything; also being on edge all the way up to the border of the Wilds, hoping they wouldn't run into more of the Darkspawn, yet every noise they heard was assumed to be such. Those creatures were so foul that even long after a fight, they left a mark on you. It was no wonder their blood was poison, thought Feri. Their mere presence is enough to turn your stomach.

[User]
Rannon looked about, vigilant when they stopped. It was hard to imagine they might be relatively safe for the time being, but...that's what it seemed like. He let out a breath, his broad shoulders swelling and lowering like a wave. He cleared his throat, and began to take off his armor once more just he did less than a day previous. He couldn't help but smile as Feri plopped down and grumbled a tiny bit.

Not because he enjoyed her discomfort, but her endurance despite her short legs was admirable to him. He was also used to the other soldiers keeping their discomforts hidden within and not being voiced, and it was a nice change. He settled down, wearing his trousers and linen (albeit cut up) shirt, but keeping his large sword close just in case. Gideon, much like the dog he was, sat right next to Feri after they had collected the firewood, sniffing the food and looking at it hungrily.

Rannon was very much like a dog himself, something he often didn't notice. Vigilant and alert when on the move, but having very loyal and kind eyes when near comrades, and often giving a lopsided smile when happy or content. That and, of course, being protective of his friends. Perhaps he'd found a new one in Feri. "You can sit back and I can grab the food," he told her, pushing himself off the ground to shuffle over to her on his knees. He knew how much the trek took out of the ruddy skinned Half Dwarf.

The heat of the fire and the steam of the pot along with the salt gave Rannon a feeling of openness. He couldn't rightly guess it was his sinuses clearing, but something felt a bit good being so close to it. The light of the fire caused his eyes to look like polished steel, and his hair the likeness of bronze. He gave her a smile and a wink to let her know it was ok, and nodded for her to sit back over by the soft blankets. "No," he replied. "I'm from Ironbrook, next to the wilds." His voicing that brought back many memories of growing up among the townsfolk, and the leaving as well...

"I've had a lot of experience around the Kokari and, I guess I'm used to them now. By the way, I was wondering how you got so good with those Knives."


[System]
a ship is safe in harbor
BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT SHIPS ARE MADE FOR

I hope our daughters are born with so much fire in their souls, they could put volcanoes and stars to shame.

---
Part Human:
1
⁄
8

th
 Veelab o r n
2 May, 2000s e x
Femalea g e
Twenty Fourh e i g h t
178 centimetresw e i g h t
59 Kilogramss e x u a l i t y
Heterosexual

---

Before I am your daughter, your sister, niece, or cousin, I am my own person, and I will not set fire to myself to keep you warm.

---

w a n dRowan, Dragon Heartstring, 8 and ¾ inches, slightly rigid.h o g w a r t s h o u s e
Ravenclawa c c o l a d e s
Ravenclaw Prefect, President of Wizarding Chess Club and three times Hogwarts champion.o c c u p a t i o n
Gringotts Curse Breaker

---

Forget stardust – you are iron. Your blood is nothing but ferrous liquid. When you bleed, you reek of rust. It is iron that fills your heart and sits in your veins. And what is iron, really, unless it's forged? You are iron. And you are strong.

---

l i k e s
* Puzzles, from jigsaw to riddles to difficult curses.
* Stories. Victoire grew up on all the tales of her family's bravery in the face of evil, on Beedle the Bard's fables and history. Victoire is rather embarrassed by her fondness for fairytales and happily ever afters.
* Pastries and chocolate--she has something of a sweet tooth
* Early morning walks by the seaside, burrowed into a sweater and delightfully alone.
* Songbirds
* Cleanliness.
d i s l i k e s
* Parties; Victoire does not do raucous crowds.
* She doesn't touch firewhiskey--she always ends up making Very Bad Decisions Indeed.
* Being talked over or undermined.
* Victoire loathes the feeling of being stuck. She's got a terrible case of wanderlust.
* Borscht. The smell makes her ill.
h o b b i e s
* Chess--Victoire is an extremely talented player, and she makes time to play with her Uncle Ron whenever she's in town.
* Exploring. Victoire almost always has a bag ready and a whim for travel.
* Victoire is an accomplished baker. When she's stressed, she can usually be found in the kitchen.
p a t r o n u s
Swanb o g g a r t
Manacles and chainsa m o r t e n t i a
Sea spray, old leather, traces of sugar and firewood.p e r s o n a l i t y
"Are you sure you're a Weasley?" is one of the first things Professor Flitwick said to her. She was a shy and quiet child, and Victoire could not have been more different than her siblings and countless cousins. Preferring solitude, she often found herself drawn to empty towers, leaning out windows to let the wind whip her skin raw, to forbidden woods where magic hummed in the air, to secret passages that lead her to the wonders of Hogwarts. Endlessly curious and doggedly determined, Victoire loves nothing more than to find mysteries and unfold them. The glory is irrelevant to the delight of discovery.

But fire rages beneath the reserve and placid smiles. Victoire is passionate, fierce, wild. She loves nothing more than to sink into magic, to let the floodgates open and to battle dark curses, to bend them to her will. It serves her well as a curse breaker--but it can lead to disaster in fits of temper. She rarely indulges it, but when she does, Victoire is every bit the vicious veela, quick to go for her wand.

Her boundless curiosity compels her to wander and she resents every obstacle that slows her down. She is haunted by a need to keep moving, to keep hunting wonder, to find the next challenge. Despite her quiet, it would be folly to describe her as still.

[User]
This was not the first time Victoire had been strangled in a ruin.

Annoyingly, this strangler was soaking wet. The arm lashed about her throat was annoyingly cold. Something had her wrists—clever enough to know her for wix, but daft enough to think that it had the upperhand—and Victoire began to kick wildly. Nearly six foot tall, her thrashing did not make things easy.

It spoke, which was bizarre. It spoke modern English, which was weirder. Of course, it was all a bunch of nonsense.

"Get off of me, you nutter," Victoire snarled, taking a moment to aim and drive the heel of her boot into his foot with all her might. Her wand sparked in hand, pressed between them, stinging her back, undoubtedly raising welts. She was too furious to much care. Her patronus had vanished in a whirl of light. She just had to survive long enough for Bulstrode to find her.

Her attacker called her Weasley, which just plain pissed her off. No. She had not stalked the halls of an ancient ruin for the past hour and change to somehow find someone who knew her fucking family name. It was ridiculous. She was never going to get away from her name, it seemed.

"My team will be here in minutes," she hissed as best she could with the forearm cutting off her air supply. Black spots were beginning to blossom in her vision. "And my boss is going to hex the ever loving shit out of you for trespassing."

[Assistant]
"Nutter? Trespassing? Well, I haven't seen anyone else down here for the last three weeks! Stuck down he with nothing but a flask of drink to keep you occupied." Evader was confused to say the least. A Necromancer, being rightly accused, no less, in her own lair, was denying everything, and calling him the nutter. Him. It didn't really make sense. And calling the rest of her brethen her team was a bit strange. But she ws in there already, so she had to be in the wrong. She had to be, otherwise it wouldn't really make sense.

He thrust his strangling arm back a bit, and he moved his head forwards a bit. "Now, let's be a bit more competent, shall we dear?" He crooned in her ear, easily masking his confusion. "I want you to tell me what you're doing here, scum. Are we clear on that?" His knuckles where buring white. This threatening strangers in some ruins business was more tiring than he could have imagined.

And then it came to him. Inspiration. Genius. Revenge. He slowly let go of her wrists. "On second thoughts, I'm a generous man. So, let's make a deal shall we? You tell me precisely, what you are doing here and who you are with. The I shall, anot kill you, and prove to you that I am not trespassing. That sounds like a fair deal to me. If you agree, or if you aren't dead, nod. Or at least try to, Weasley." This was the fairest thing he could do. Though he wouldn't admit it, it was times like these when he feared for his life.

[User]
If Victoire had had the necessary oxygen, she might have wondered how the hell this madman had found this dig site, how he had managed to spend three weeks down here, with her team none the wiser. They'd happened on it only a month ago, and they had all taken Unbreakable Vows not to speak of it with others...

As it was, her thought processes were more along the lines of THIS CANNOT FUCKING BE MY LAST AIR.

Really, this whole being strangled business was just pissing her off. Victoire tried to drive the heel of her boot into his foot, but it lacked the necessary oomph. He was asking things, and it was difficult to focus on his words, as close as they were.

"Gringotts," she choked, wasting precious, precious air with the effort. "with--I'm with Gringotts."

And then he'd loosened his grip on her wrists, and she managed to barrel forward with a desperate burst of energy, breaking free. Her lungs burned at the sweet taste of oxygen, coughing with the sudden rush.

He'd bruised her windpipe, but she didn't need words. Victoire had her wand and she snapped it wordlessly as she turned on heel, incarcerous burning in her thoughts, as massive ropes shot from her wandtip. She snaked them up, catching a leg, his strangling arm, surging around his chest and lashing tight. Her knuckles whitened on her wand.

Every impulse in Victoire's head told her to rip him to shreds. She raised her wand, so tempted, so furious. Chest heaving, weight shifting, she very nearly did it, vision crimson with rage.

"This is a confidential dig site," Victoire rasped, pale eyes burning through his. "Who--who the hell are you?"

[Assistant]
Evader made a serious discovery. If he was to further his relasionship with this woman, he would never be able to trust her again. He would know not to. Beacause when you make a peace treaty with somebody, you don't break it as soon as you have established it.

The ropes lashed around him, squeezing his chest so tight his breath almost failed him. The tables had been unfortunately turned on him, and he almost felt guilty he strangled her. How was he supposed to tell her something when he couldn't breathe? Oh yeah, he'd tried that just earlier. It really wasn't nice. Not nice at all. His limbs writhed fruitlessly, after a good three minuets of silence he gave up.

"Evander C. Barius. That's my name. Vigilante. No, not really." He snarled through his gritted teeth. "Unemployed, layabout, Ministry dropout." He whispered contemptuously.

He tried to reach for his flask. Just fingering it would make him feel a bit better, even if he couldn't drink it. His arms were pinned to his sides, and he could just about reach it, attached to his belt. Gently scratching the sides calmed him down. He tried the take in as much air as possible. It was hard when his chest could barely move.

"I'm not the guy you should be fighting. I didn't know about any dig site, honest. All I knew was this used to be a popular hang-out for Necromancers. And more and more of them are starting to crop up. I didn't know about any dig site, honest! Let me go!" He yelled, before struggling against the ropes again.

What a day.

[User]
Victoire was not a particularly forgiving woman. It was a rather nasty character flaw, she knew, but she'd never been good at letting go of grudges. People were often so quick to judge her--she didn't see the point in doing anything else unto them.

This Barius had not done anything in the past five minutes to endear him towards her.

Barius. The name snagged in her thoughts, cleared by the oxygen flooding her veins. That name was strangely familiar to her. For the first time since her would-be strangler had ruined her morning, Victoire took stock of his features. She was rather disturbed to find just how familiar he looked.

He was taller than her, but not by much. The dark coiff of his hair was tousled from their scuffle. A fire burned in his gaze, hate coiled and ready to strike. The realisation made her frown, wand lowering slightly.

His explanation made little sense to her. Necromancers? That was...an odd choice in word. It belonged more in fable than in reality, the sort of bogey man that haunted legend and ancient propaganda. Victoire knew dark magic better than most, but necromancer brought to mind Beedle the Bard's tales, not historical fact.

"Barius," Victoire repeated, an edge of curiosity entering her suspicious voice. She cocked her head to one side, appraising her prey for a long moment. Then, "You were in my year, weren't you?"

Her lips pressed into a frown. After a long moment, she flicked her wand. The ropes retreated, disintegrating into nothingness--although she had raised her wand once more, readied to fire a jinx at a moment's notice.

"You need to leave. I'll escort you to the surface. If you're lucky, you won't be charged." Nodding her head towards the massive doorway, Victoire tutted. "Go."


[System]
Super Name: Toon Girl

Appearance:

Powers/Skills:
Toon Strength - Depending on her mood, Light can have various levels of Super Strength. While sad or depressed, her arms are basically noodles and can't lift much of anything. When she is determined or angry, her super strength can jump up to levels that can only be matched by a few. In her default state however shes strong enough to be able to lift up a small house and run with it only slightly encumbered. She can also lift enchanted items such as Thor's Hammer, but WILL NOT gain any positive or negative effects from them unless she would normally fill those criteria.

Toon Regeneration - Light can regenerate from almost any affliction much like any cartoon. The healing can vary on how long it takes, depending on the injury, with physical blows being the fastest to bounce back from, while more energy based things like fire might take longer to regenerate from. Supernatural afflictions or mental afflictions take the longest to regenerate from, and can take upwards of 20 minutes to regenerate from in some cases. Additionally since shes a toon, many injuries that affect her tend to be more 'showy', such as her turning into ash after being on fire for a short time, explosives just charring her black and maybe turning her to ash, body parts finding their way back to her or her pulling new body parts out of stumps if she is cut, blowing herself back to normal, bullets passing through her and leaving holes, turning green when sick, and the like. She doesn't bleed, has amazing resistances to reality warping abilities, and she can adapt quickly to hostile environments such as underwater or the depths of space.

Toon Physics - Light is affected by physics differently, although core concepts are still followed. Examples are attacks do extra damage, she can stretch like rubber if being pulled/hit, incinerated to ash because of a mild fire, extreme unluckiness, being able to ignore the pull of gravity if unaware that it should affect her for a time, and other various benefits and hindrances that often follow the 'rule of cool' or comedy.

Portable Hole - Light can pull a portable hole from the inside of her dress. This lets her travel to familiar places or any point along her sight lines, and only she, stuff she wears, or stuff in her Pocket Space can enter, the hole feeling like inky paper to anyone else. When placed, either in the air or on the ground, the second hole appears once she enters the first one. There is a slight time delay between when she enters the hole and when she exits the second hole, which is extended if either hole was placed in the air.

Pocket Space - Light can store and pull objects from a place she calls 'pocket space', located under her dress. She can pull various objects from this space, but most if not stored previously tend to be useless or downright hazardous if they have the ACME logo on them, and objects pulled from this space tend to look a bit more 'cartoony' then normal. Light can't store or pull living objects from her pocket space.

Reality Siphon - Light steals the reality from whatever she touches. Light gives off a 'creepy' feeling when touched as she steals away the reality of the object or person shes touching. When an object has lost some reality, it is unable to gain energy from other sources but itself until its reality is restored. When Light isn't touching something, it regains its reality back after a short period depending on how much was lost. When an object has lost lots of its reality, it starts to take on the look of a Toon, but with no beneficial powers, and when it loses all of its reality, it disappears to... Reality warping beings have a minor resistance to this ability and massive or cosmic entities have greater resistance to this ability. Magical things lose their energy quickly. This power can't be turned off and Light has no control over its intensity.
This ability allows her to affect Ghosts and other ethereal bodies, and anything that tries to siphon off Light's energy or tries to possess her will suffer a much more severe version of this ability.

Equipment: Whatever is stored in her pocket space.

Weaknesses:
-Takes extra damage from attacks
-Has an EXCEPTIONALLY difficult time escaping from things that constrict her movement like ropes or nets.
-Extremely unlucky, almost to the point where she might just as well have a target painted on her head.
-Very susceptible to drugs and some chemicals.
-Has a very poor judgement of 'seriousness' and tends to fall into traps very easily as danger isn't something she can really perceive well.
-Tends to mostly be a pacifist when fighting, and would rather talk or play with her enemies than fight them. This makes her very easy to talk down from a fight or even bring to your side temporarily. (Lex = instant win) Also makes her very easy to distract.
-While strong, she isn't trained in martial arts. Shes also fairly light and easy to throw around.
-Due to her 'creepy' touch and slightly unsettling looks, Light has a hard time making any close relationships.

Origin Story: Coming from a different form of reality, or lack there of, Light is a toon living in the real world. Sure, she doesn't act too chaotic like what you see on the TV, but then unlike most cartoons Light has a good grasp on the concept that things in this reality don't follow the rules she knows. That doesn't mean she isn't up to jokes, comedy, or making friends, and her constant smile makes it out to be that she is perpetually in a good mood, even when dealing with villains! But sometimes she'll occasionally mumble about dark things, often in a light hearted or dismissive manner, but there might be something bad that happened prior to this toon lady coming to this reality.

[User]
A light slowly filtered through his eyelids to rouse him or maybe someone elicited some other stimulation to bring Jimmy back to consciousness. He was beginning to wake up but was not quite with it. He slowly became aware of being in a cage. There was something peculiar about the cage, its bars laced with copper wires and the presence of conductors, transistors and transformers. The cage was in a sense a Faraday Cage which prevented him from teleporting out of this current location. 'Whoever took me knows about my teleportation ability,' Jimmy thought to himself as consciousness rapidly returned to him. He became aware of a menacing headache throbbing across his forehead. Touching the bars in an attempt to check the strength of the bars, he caught a zap of electricity which prevented any future touching. 'Looks like I am stuck here for a while,' Jimmy looked around his prison. It was the back of a van. Even if he did get out of the cage, he did not know what could possibly be outside the van. He looked out the windows to see if anyone was around. He could not see people immediately, but he did ascertain he was in some sort of a parking garage which included several high-end performance cars, armored fighting vehicles, an assortment of normal looking cars parked in a traditional fashion as you would find in any parking lot in the world and a variety of rotary wing aircraft.

The presence of helicopters and armored personnel carriers struck him as odd, but that didn't answer the question plaguing his pained mind. "What the fuck, did you get yourself into, Jimmy?" he whispered to himself. Fortunately, for the Asian man also known as Iron Monkey, he didn't have long to wait to find the answer.

Within a half hour, the doors to the navy-blue van he was held captive in, were pulled open. The electricity charging his Faraday cage was turned off and the door to the cage opened allowing him access to the outside. Curiosity was slowly getting the better of him. He was annoyed that someone took him against his will, but if someone went through all this effort to get him here, he may as well hear him out. He slowly slid out of the cage and van standing in front of an African American man who could have been close to his own age. Jimmy considered jumping out of the garage into some known city in the world he had visited, but again his curiosity suggested he remain. The longer he stood there, it seemed his headache slowly dissipated. He also noticed others who had been captured and brought here to this parking garage waiting to hear what the man had to say.

"Recruits!" The black man shouted at him and the others, "Welcome to THE DEFIANCE PROJECT!"

Jimmy stood there looking confused at the man. He looked left and he looked right. He had never heard of such a thing. "What the fuck is the Defiance Project and where the hell am I?" Jimmy muttered almost inaudibly to his host. "And who the hell are these people," he asked motioning to the others in the garage with him. "And who are you?"

[Assistant]
The car ride had seemed longer than it actually was. Perhaps it had been the awkward silence between her and 'Suits' in the back seat that made it as such, or her anticipation of what more was to come. Alexanda was looking but not exactly seeing as she stared out the window for the majority of the trip, her mind on the project she had agreed to be involved in. This was how she had not noticed when the car came to a stop in an indoor vehicle bay. She took a glance at Suits, expecting him to confirm that it was where they were to alight. She was able to get a good look all around after stepping out of the car, her eyes widening slightly in astonishment as she did so.

The car she had arrived in was in a row with several other vehicles, each one opening to reveal a different individual. What puzzled and somewhat disturbed her was that all of them were restrained in one way or another. From what they were saying, it looked as if she was the only one who had not been brought to this place against her will. The restraints could also mean that all the others were dangerous. She turned to Suits, expressing her confusion at the entire situation. What kind of people would he be expecting her to work with?

She then instinctively tensed up, her fists glowing bright blue with psychic energy as the others were suddenly released from their restraints, in case any of them should lash out. To her relief, that did not happen, but they continued to verbally express their confusion and displeasure. She had been trying to shut them out, when one of the men in charge called out to them, mentioning the 'Defiance Project'.

"Uh... thank you," was all she said in reply. "So, how do we address you then?"

[User]
The Director glanced down subtly at the spit that had nearly landed on his boots. He was not phased by the obscenities echoing around the hangar from Wayne's mouth yet he took a mental note to keep an eye on this one. He may prove harder to control than initially expected.
As light stepped forward the guards behind King backpedalled and raised their weapons, obvious discomfort in their eyes.

"I am Director King!" He shouted confidently over the Profanity. "Some of you know who we are, some of you do not! I cannot tell you where you are, but I can tell you why you are here." He paused and Wayne finally quietened. "Alexandra Connolly, Jimmy Wu, Darla Winters, Wayne Geary, Light. For the past year we have been following your lives, your every move. Each one of you has a gift and I would see it put to use. Crime is on a rise, it has been for years now, but the police can no longer keep up. Twenty years ago my predecessor assembled the first team, five years ago the people you see before you were recruited. And now it is time for a new generation to step up and protect the world." He stopped and after a brief silence said, "You must have a lot of questions. Ask, and maybe you will get answers."

[Assistant] "Excuse me Mr. King," Jimmy sputtered out. Someone quickly corrected him, the African man should be addressed as Director King. "Pardon me, Director King. What exactly is The Defiance Project? Should I assume you expect us to be some sort of super hero to protect the world? Is that what we are talking about?" A sly smile creased Jimmy's lips. "What gift are you talking about?" Jimmy had always kept his abilities secret. No one knew him by his alias, Iron Monkey. He never shared that secret with anyone. 'There is no way this Director King knows about my special abilities,' Jimmy thought to himself. "If what you say is true about us, how could you possibly know anything? I can't speak for my other hostages here, but I for one don't have any gift. I might be slightly good at hand to hand combat, but that is about it. Anyone who pays attention to UFC, might know that."

[User]
Wayne finally stopped cursing long enough to listen to the other "recruits" respond to the big reveal. This "Director King" guy seemed pretty confident that they would all just line up and follow orders. He groaned. He could start to feel how hungry he was. How many hours had it been since he had been taken? And being put on ice didn't help either.

With the drop in temperature, he was finally able to focus his finger into a lockpick, and he easily opened his restraints and stepped out of the big ice truck. Immediately some of the agents pointed their weapons at him. He brushed some frost off of himself and rubbed his hands together, acting confident and unphased by the men who were armed and ready to out him down.

Looking around the hangar, he noticed helicopters and a few military vehicles. Obviously it was no joke, and they had some real funding. "So why haven't we ever heard of this project?" He asked Director King directly.

[Assistant]
Alexanda listened as 'Director King' spoke, finding the part about being in a super-powered crime-fighting team a repeat of what Suits had mentioned back in her apartment. It was nice of King to give them a little bit of history on their organization, however. When he offered to answer any questions, a couple of the... hostages? immediately spoke up, making inquiries that confirmed that they had not been briefed about the situation like she had, as if the rest of them being brought to this place in restraints was not confirmation enough. The director did mention names, but which name belonged to who was still a mystery.

She found herself hiding a smirk as one of them - a middle-aged man, attempted to put on an act about not having a 'gift'. Considering the circumstances, she knew he was hiding something, whatever it was. I've tried that with them before, Sir. Trust me, they know... The younger man, who appeared to be a shapeshifter of sorts, seemed like the most aggressive one, though, he eventually managed to compose himself and speak to King in a civilized manner. The blue fish-like girl, who was definitely the most intriguing of the lot, looked the happiest to be here.

Alexanda then decided to be the next one to ask a question. "So how often would we be meeting like this? Because, you know, civilian life is kind of important too."

[User]
Light couldn't really figure why so many people here were so angry at this 'director king' guy. Don't they realize what was happening? Maybe she'd have to give them a run down. "Why are so many of you so grumpy?" Light said, showing a toothy smile. She zipped around to each person while saying. "This is the GOVERNMENT and a GOVERNMENT program where they're going to use us as super soldiers! You know what that means? Benefits! Lots and lots of benefits!" She said, jumping for joy when she said benefits right in front of Mr. 'I have no superpowers' guy. "And the fact that the toon lady has to point this out to you means you all need to study up on your tropes." she said, ending in front of the shapeshifter guy.

"Speaking of benefits. Where is the food? Be nice if we all bonded over some catering." Light said, stopping next to red head girl, pulling her close and giving her a one arm hug when she said bonding.


[System]
Foxling
Is pretty oblivious to his own past. Hasn't unlocked abilities
Brother to Seros (Unknown to him)
No Bondmates

dropbox.com/s/5w6ad6839nh9duh/Reilis%2..

Seros Bestyde
Foxling
Guardian of Shadows. Timid in nature.
Brother to Reilis (Known to him)
No Bondmates

dropbox.com/s/n4bd9xcpveb5lwj/Seros.pn..

[User]
Arilu sat at the edge of a shimmering lake, sunlight filtering through the leaves, making beautiful patterns upon the forest floor. The lake was large, and a deep blue hue that seemed to sparkle a bit unnaturally even in places that didn't sit in the suns rays. This particular lake was the Lake Of The Enchantress, and resided in the Flower Forest. There lived The Enchantress, an ancient and magical being, as well as Llyrth, a white dragon of immense power who lived in the Great Tree that stood in the center of the lake. That tree was the largest of the four kingdoms, some saying it reached into the very heavens above where the celestial star beings lived and ruled. Arilu dangled her bare feet in the cool water, her face set in a grim mask of concentration. Her eyes were closed, and her raven black hair hung loosely down her back, pooling onto the ground behind her. Her pale white skin seemed far too fair against that dark mass of hair, but upon closer inspection many battle scars could be seen upon her body from years of protecting these lands and its people. She had a beautiful dragon tattoo upon her left shoulder and shoulder blade, and a long scar that ran from her left eyebrow down to her cheek. Heaving a sigh, she opened her eyes, and emerald green orbs rimmed with sapphire blue stared into the distance at nothing in particular. The dragon Llyrth dropped from somewhere up above in the Great Tree and stared at her intently before speaking in a soft, yet firm male voice.

"Arilu my darling, if you stare any harder into the distance you may start a fire. Breathe. Fate will bring those destined to help you overcome the plights of this land all in good time. No sense in brooding over that which you cannot change at this point and time. Concentrate on the things you can change, and the people you can help at this point and time." Llyrth laid his head down upon the ground at the base of the tree, his massive body following suit.

Arilu's eyes moved to look at the dragon, a frown forming on her delicate face, her hands clenching the grass she sat upon. "Llyrth, I wish it was that simple. Alas, I have an entire country to worry about, along with three others, and I cannot be everywhere at once. Our borders are kept relatively safe by the wards set long ago by my companions and I, but supplies coming from the other countries has come to an abrupt halt because they do not have the same luxuries as my people, and they are attacked everyday by a new threat. Our neighbors to the north of Trisolan can't and won't offer aid, because they themselves are still rebuilding even after all of these long years. So Narmingad is not a viable option." She gave a low snort. "It's not an option even the other kingdoms would recognize, they still will not even recognize Narmingad as a kingdom, and just lay the burden to me because of its past..." She closed her eyes briefly, a rogue tear slipping down her cheek. "I don't even have my old companions here anymore. I feel so alone. Not powerless...just...alone."

Llyrth's eyes showed sadness as he looked at her. "I am sorry my child, but these are not burdens you will forever carry, and they are not burdens that will forever cause you despair. Things will look up, and you will not be alone for long, of that I am positive. So get Cinniu'int and your wolf children, and go home to your family and be happy for a while, even if it is brief."

Arilu looked slightly confused for a moment as she looked at the dragon. "Did I not tell you? Shandal and Nalandris are in the Celestial Kingdom where it is safe, along with Nephas to keep on eye on them."

Llyrth seemed to smirk before he started disappearing up the Great Tree once more. "Ahh, well maybe you forgot to mention that or maybe you didn't. I couldn't say. Goodbye for now Chosen One, may the Great Tree bless you and your thoughts." Then he was gone from site, not making a sound as he went.

Arilu stared up at the tree in amazement. "How in the world does he do that without making a sound every time?" Shaking her head, Arilu stood reluctantly and looked around for Cinniu'int, her bond mate and steed. The gigantic black stallion came from in between the trees and stepped gracefully towards his friend and companion. Arilu smiled lovingly, laying her hand gently upon his great neck. "Let's go home, I think Llyrth is right. I've done enough brooding today." She swung onto his back with ease, and they started back to Penwyth Castle. "Where is Tantra and Jasper?"

Cinniu'int shook his head gently and gave a snort. "Headed back to the castle already. They didn't say a word. Just up and left."

Arilu sighed softly. "Maybe my brooding got to them. I have been a bear recently. Let's hurry and get home, I should see if that's why, and if so, apologize to them." Cinniu'int snorted in response and they headed home at a quick pace.

[Assistant]
Richter coughed, the dust was everywhere and cleaning it was not an easy task at all. He didn't had his armor or weapons, they were besides his bed, as they always were in a matter of fact. The sheet, the cover, he pillow, he managed to clean them decently, not perfectly, far from perfectly, that will require visit to the closest river and some soap for sure. For now this will do, he slept in far worse conditions, mud, sand, dry rock, so this was just fine for him. After he was done with his bed he started cleaning his desk and chair. It was simple, wave the dust of them on the floor and clean the floor after with a broomstick, which he did eventually.

He set on his chair and looked outside the window, once the cleaning was done after hour or maybe two. He looked at the lake in the far distance, and the massive, huge, gigantic tree, "Is that old dragon still living there?" he though to him self, a sound of hunger from his stomach interrupted his thoughts, oh he was hungry alright. He thought for a moment, "Is it time finally to pronounce my presence? Or should I keep my self secret a little bit more. Arilu, I am sure, has her hands full of work, organizing defense, rallying the armies, all the stuff a leader, a queen in a matter of fact should do for her kingdom", he though, "And what am I doing? Thinking of food."

He scratched his head and looked again outside the window, the sun was setting, time for dinner he though. As he stood up from the chair he only took his strait longsword, leaving the curved one besides his armor, he didn't needed the rest, who would dare to attack the castle, maybe the most fortified place on this world, and if they do, all those guards, he'll only need one weapon to help them, he thought, "Thinking way too high of your self Ricky, one day it will be your undoing", he smacked his own head and headed down towards the kitchen.

[User]
In the bustling streets, of a city he didn't know the name of, Reilis stood in a darkened corner next to a building, staring intently at a blank wall. There were plenty of onlookers watching the creature, whispering curiosities of what he could be doing. He ignored the muttering and chatter of any passerby. Reilis' long ears twitched as he grew in frustration. His paw tapped the ground impatiently as he waited. He finally broke his silence and startled a few of the people watching.

"SEROS! Seriously. Are you ever going to come out of your shadowy place? It's getting really boring out here and we're drawing a crowd." The pale yellow foxling crinkled his nose as he plopped on the ground. If he was going to have to wait on his friend, he was going to be comfy, despite everyone watching their every move.

"I can't! There's too many of them." The shadows spoke from every direction, further frightening the onlookers. They couldn't tell where the source was coming from. Reilis, however, did not move. He grit his teeth and thrust his hands towards the wall. "Seros, if I could pull you out of there, I would do it in a heartbeat. Now, come on! We're not going to get anywhere if crowds scare you. Besides, there's only..." He paused, turned around, and counted the villagers who stood there, nearly quivering. "A dozen of them. Most of them ran or moved on a while ago. Now get your shadowy ass out of that wall so we can leave! You're making me scare people!"

"Really? I think they're nervous because you're yelling at a wall." The shadow retorted.
"SEROS."
"Fine! Fine. Alright, you win." A dark face appeared in the wall, causing a few people to faint, as a body crawled out from the shadowy slate. It was a second foxling. He was dark as the night and the complete opposite of his angered friend. A scream went from among the villagers, causing the two of them to stand on edge. "THIEVES!" Cried the woman who screamed, attracting attention to the scene as she pointed to them both. The multiple beats of hooves hammered the pavement soon after as three guards made their way towards the source.

"We should leave." Seros stammered as he took a step back from the noise.
"You think?!" Reilis answered as his long legs took him on a heavy sprint through a mass of people. Seros took after him without a second thought.

"Why did you have to hide in the shadows anyway?! You know that attracts attention!" Reilis panted. "We REALLY need to strengthen your bravery! Honestly! What would you do if you couldn't find a shadow to hide in?!" The pale yellow foxling turned his head back for a second to give a scolding face full of disappointment.

"I know! I know, okay?! I just-" Seros stopped mid-sentence as an older gentleman with a pushcart wheeled out a mere few feet in front of them. "Watch out!"

It was too late. Reilis' leg caught the side of the cart at full speed, sending him spiraling over it and landing hard on the path a few feet behind. Laying there in a daze, he groaned as the wind tried catching up with him. Seros turned face and saw the guards drawing closer. They didn't have time for this! He leaped over the, now turned over, cart and grabbed his comrade, covering him with his body as he quickly glanced for shadows that would fit them both. It was a long stretch, but he located one a few dozen yards away. He held tightly onto his winded companion and bolted as fast as his thin legs could carry them.

The guards shouted something and an arrow shot forth, nearly hitting them in the line of fire. Seros made sure Reilis' head was covered and dove for the shadow, headfirst, forcing them to both disappear from view. The guards stopped where the foxlings disappeared, dumbfounded at what happened. The leader of the three sent his followers in opposite directions. He was dead set on catching those suspicious creatures, though they would never be found.

After several minutes of traveling through the darkness, Seros burst out from a shadow covered spot of earth. They were well beyond the city limits now, and certainly shouldn't have been followed. There was another city they couldn't go back to because of people portraying the skittish character as a thief. He set Reilis on the ground and fell back next to his friend.

"Why didn't you think of that the first time?" Reilis wheezed, not bothering to sit up any time soon.
"Honestly? I didn't think it would work. I've never taken anyone into shadow with me before."
That made Reilis twitch. "You mean...you ran me skull-first into a wall with you...and you didn't even know if it would work?!"
Seros looked at him nervously. "Pretty much. But it worked! And we're out of there now! I don't think I could do it with a bunch of people, though. I mean, I spent enough energy trying to pull just you through. Other people aren't meant to swim through shadows."

The two of them just laid there, catching their breath for a while and enjoying the breeze brought by fresh air. Reilis' ears perked. He heard something. It was a voice. A lovely, womanly voice. He swiveled his head towards his friend. "Seros. Did you hear that?"
The black foxling was already sitting up, ears on end. "I did." He reviewed what the words had said and turned his turquoise eyes towards his golden comrade. "Should we follow it?"
Reilis nodded gently. "You bet." He tried pushing himself up, but only made a few inches before falling back to the ground. "But...a little later."


[System]
Age: 17

Gender: Female

Race: Human

Weapon: Sea Legs - Ornate wooden boots imbued with a lot of water Dust. At the user's will, the boots can generate water that can be used for movement or offensive purposes, from jets to waves to empowered kicks.

Specialty: Tank. Krysanthe is ludicrously strong and her boots are incredibly durable. She can make use of her semblance to weaken her foe's blows and strengthen her own, she is well trained in fighting under the effects of increased gravity and while this makes her slower it makes her blows pack a serious punch. However she does have to rely on her boots for speed as her own is somewhat sub-par and she has difficulty landing a blow on more flighty foes. In addition while she can hit hard and do it a lot, Krysanthe doesn't have much else. If she can't kick, punch, or blast it with water then she's out of luck.
She is 5' 9"
.

Semblance: Krysanthe can manipulate the gravity around her within certain limits. She can increase or decrease gravity with it. If she wants to she can target specific objects with this power but she can only affect things within 10m. x3 is pushing herself and is exhausting after several seconds and 1/2 is the same.

Personality: Krysanthe is an energetic girl, one might even say hyper. She commits to things rather easily but makes sure to carry through with them. She doesn't care much for beating around the bush and can seem rather blunt at times, but she really does care about her friends. Krysanthe tends to naturally take charge of the situation due to all the energy she has and is rather impatient which can lead to some reckless decisions at times. Both of her parents are instructors at a Hunter Academy, although admittedly not one as prestigious as Beacon. Of course they did their best to ensure Krysanthe's future and this lead to a great deal of pressure to succeed in order to fulfill her parent's dream of going to Beacon. Beneath her jubilant personality she holds a very deep fear of failure and getting kicked out of Beacon which can hold her back at times. Krysanthe doesn't go by her last name because she doesn't want her parents to affect her experience at school no matter how little.

Color: Shiny Gold

Emblem: A golden sword plunged into a raging ocean

[User]
Vega Venetia and Gratia Mindaro

"Tsk" making a quick glowering expression "I will have you know that sightseeing the entirety of Vale, has been exercise. Besides" with conceit "I'm the one that's most fit out of the entire group."

"Anyway, yes I could use a jacket. Come to think of it" putting her index finger on chin "I could buy a jacket in upper class district!" she said with enthusiasm. "Then we can eat!"

"Suuuure, you stick insect."

Walking around the city was barely exercise in comparison to murdering creatures of darkness on a weekly basis. Though they hadn't really done that for a while; a shame, Gratia was always willing to engage in some pest control against the hordes of Grimm that lurked outside the lights of human civilisation. Hopefully the chance would come sooner or later.

She paused in her walk, turning around to face her teammate, hands pocketed tightly inside the folds of her winter coat.

"That's retarded," stated the Huntress bluntly. "All you'll find will be overpriced shit."

"Hmph."

"It is not retarded. Overpriced but has quality. I saw very nice jacket on sale and nice cafe were we can dine. Besides, I will pay for everything. After all I am Venetian."

"Oh, did you roll a crit on your perception check?

The irreverent comment oozed with barely concealed sarcasm, but her dry and impassive tone changed not one bit. Gratia was not someone who immediately associated "brand-name" with quality. Consistency, sure, but there were a number of other ways to obtain a fantastic wardrobe without resorting to some hoity-toity upper class mall. Her budget could not even afford a pair of gloves from one of those outlets, let alone a full outfit.

Still ...

"Yeah sure why the fuck not," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "You need somebody to tear apart your shitty fashion choices."

[Assistant]
Kuhaku Shiro - Airship Docks

Again Shiro frowned, his head tilted as he narrowed his eyes in a slightly disappointed look. When Cobalt took his hand to shake it, the lack of firmness in his grip further deepened Shiro's distrust of the boy. Minus additional points to his first impression of him for a weak handshake. But maybe he was being a bit too harsh in his judgement, at least he seemed cordial enough and returned the boy's smile by also grinning. After a brief silence, the boy apologized for his rude interruption. Shiro smiled and placed Scoot onto his shoulders. Raising both of his hands and shaking his head, he assured Cobalt, "Oh no! It's quite alright, boss. No harm, no foul." The boy then seemed to notice Scoot and took an immediate interest in him. Scoot looked up at the newcomer and sniffed at him, only to curl into a ball and rest on Shiro's shoulders. Completely disinterested in Cobalt, almost boredly so.

Seeing the rodent's blase' reaction to Cobalt, Shiro laughed and scratched at his ears. Before the three of them could say anything more, the next Airship had come in and was making its touchdown. As it landed and its bay doors opened, a group of students filed in. Quickly filling it. Ears perking, Shiro took off to hurriedly get a spot to sit or stand before they would have to wait longer. "You all coming? Don't want to wait for the next ship do you? We can talk on the ride to the city!" He beckoned towards his friends to not linger.

[User] Cobalt was a little sad that Shiro seemed so distrustful of him, but he understood. He probably gave off a bad vibe, he was a pretty big dude after all. He was even more sad when Scoot seemed to have no interest in him whatsoever. Cobalt perked up though when Shiro invited him to go somewhere with him. He smiled and decided to come with Shiro. "I didn't really have anywhere to go so sure." Cobalt replied as he got on board the airship. He decided to stand as whenever he sat the seat always seemed to he too small for him. Cobalt began to wonder where he was going right now as he had absolutely no plans whatsoever. 'I hope they let me come with them wherever they're going.'

[Assistant]
Sepia slid a thigh-length black, ruffled skirt on over her shorts and pulled them out from under it, pausing to make sure her tail was in order. Maintaining modesty when it came to changing her shirt was far more difficult, but finding a private place seemed ridiculous for such a trivial thing.

After slipping her tank top off underneath a simple button-up white blouse and sliding on a pair of knee-high pink socks, Sepia pulled on a pair of black kitty heels and stood up.

"Ok, ready!" she smiled and tied her hair into a high ponytail with a pink bow.

[User] Krysthane had a moment of panic when Ebon asked her what team that were going with. Considered she hadn't even bothered to get the guys name before leaving. Perhaps a little hasty of here. "You'll find out." she said mysteriously and began leading them to the docks. As they exited the building Krysthane saw the guy waiting for them, "Hey, its me, Krysthane. This is my team, Ebon, Sephia, and Skyra." She explained pointing to each of them in turn. "Um I guess the rest of your team hasn't arrived yet?" Krysthane questioned seeing no one else that seemed to be congregating here in particular.


[System]
but with a yellow tie
Super Name: Anarchy

Powers: He believes his powers are centered around his desire for freedom. As such, they are all tools with which he can either remove restrictions or defend against restrictions.

 Amplification: Suppresses the limits on a person's powers or physical body, amplifying them. The more he amplifies a person's powers the faster it tires them and the more it physically harms them. He is able to suppress the negative effects in himself quite a bit, allowing him to safely amplify his own abilities far more than he could safely amplify another person's. If use on someone with dormant powers, it will let them access their powers, allowing him to give potential meta-humans powers.

 Telepathy: Little more than Empathy unless amplified, he can feel another person's fears, concerns, and pain. If amplified he can speak telepathically, and if they allow it, can view another person's memories, though he can't alter memories or force his way into minds.

 Telekinesis: He can shield himself from attacks, either with a skin-tight or a bubble shield, and can lift objects, whether touching them or not. He can also fly. If not amplified it is limited to a few hundred kilos of strength and a flight speed of 100kph. If amplified he can lift up to 100 tonnes and fly at up to mach 10.

 Technopathy: He recently discovered that if he amplified his powers he could break electronic and computer based encryption and security. He is unable to access the files directly with this power, but he can break into them and download them or view them on the machine itself.

Technology: Railgun pistol, Nanotube Armor body suit, wrist computer

Acquaintances: Kevin Kirk (friend)

Personality: He wants to help people be free. What you do with your freedom is up to you, as long as you don't use it to hurt anyone.

Bio: As a child he was treated terribly but his drug addict parents, who rarely fed him but kept him at home to make him work constantly. When he was twelve he was locked in his home, desperate to get out, when the lock on the door broke and he ran away. He spent the next six years on the run, believing that the cops would lock him up if they caught him. While on the run, he learned to read and eventually learned enough to get his GED. He now realizes that he must have been boosting his intelligence with his powers, which would explain the headaches he kept getting. He also learned to use his powers and use them to his advantage.

He got a job working construction, using his powers to secretly help himself, while taking classes online. Eventually he learned enough about technology, chemistry, and biology to start inventing things and selling the patents. He used the money to start Phoenix Security Services and, as they were one of the few security companies that had the technology to take on super villains, they began guarding research facilities. This included research facilities belonging to Lexcorp, Wayne Enterprises, Star Labs, and others.

About two year ago he discovered that he could break computer security with his powers while investigating a stolen shipment of Lexcorp particle rifles. He found that the theft was ordered by a Us General Wade Eiling for use at a secret government facility in South America, and went there under the guise of a hero to get the shipment back. During the resulting battle, however, the base was destroyed and, when he told the press why he went there, they chose to say he was a terrorist. This got the Justice league involved and he had no choice but to side with the Legion of Doom for his own safety. He convinced them to follow him on the grounds that he would help them destroy the Justice League by amplifying them and their powers and, one year ago today they had their greatest battle ever.

During this battle one hero did die, Superman, when Lex Luthor ran a Kryptonite blade through his heart. Anarchy flew off with the body to see if the Ultrahumanite could save his life, but the man of steel died on the operating table. They cremated him, after taking scans and cell samples to verify that he was completely dead and not just in another healing trance, and Anarchy returned the ashes to Metropolis, where he commissioned a statue for the fallen hero.

After that he built up his Security force, hiring ex heroes and villains, as well as ordinary people, and set to work stabilizing the world by being a kind of police force that specialized in super villains. He hired Kevin Kirk about three weeks after the great battle, and the man became one of his best friends and his advisor.

[User]
Mark Patterson, CEO of Phoenix Security Services, formerly known as Anarchy, was in a meeting with his head of security operations, John Stewart. He looked up as Kevin Kirk, his assistant, opened the door. "Sir, there two men here to see you, Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen."

"Of course," he said, "send them in." After they entered, he greeted them. Neither looked too happy to see him, but they weren't openly hostile. "So, how's the the plan coming?"

"Not too good," said Queen, "Building a prison colony at the bottom of ocean isn't exactly easy."

[Assistant]
Across the way, on the roof of a neighboring building stood a hooded figure. Through a pair of compact binoculars, the renegade archer called Arsenal spied his target's office. He could see Patterson inside along with his security chief, the former Green Lantern John Stewart. Normally he would be crazy to attack Anarchy head on, especially while Stewart was still on the premises. The building was heavily guarded, but as far as Roy knew John still possessed his power ring and could become the Green Lantern again at a moment's notice. He needed to be lured out of the picture, and Arsenal believed he had just the thing for that.

"Look's like we're all set," he said into the earpiece under his hood. Arsenal wasn't alone, a meta named Toon Girl was somewhere on the ground level. Roy met Light not too long ago, and somehow managed to convince her to join his little crusade against Anarchy. Why she agreed, Roy didn't actually know, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that, unlike his ill-fated first attempt to stop Anarchy as Red Arrow, Roy had backup of his own this time, "Stewart's still in the office. Make that distraction as loud as you can. Whatever it takes to get John to respond personally." Roy's plan was simple. Light, who was damn-near indestructible, would create a distraction. This would hopefully keep John Stewart focused on her so that Roy could go after Anarchy directly without a Green Lantern standing in his way.

He waited a few moments until he could hear what surely had to be whatever distraction Toon Girl was making. At that time, he readied a zip-line arrow and aimed it just above Patterson's office window. The next thing everyone in the office knew, an arrow made a small thunk against the building before a hooded man came crashing through the window. Arsenal was quick, landing on the floor to quickly roll back to his feet with a new arrow almost instantly ready to fly, "Mark Patterson, you have-" Roy froze, realizing all too late that John wasn't the only former superhero on the premises. Even if John left to deal with Toon Girl, Patterson was still accompanied by two men Roy knew all too well. Suddenly his plan went from being only a little risky to being downright suicidal. He didn't have time to think, Arsenal just shot his arrow squarely in Patterson's direction knowing damn well that either Bruce or Ollie would easily intercept it and then bolted for the window he'd entered through and actually leaped out.

"Abort!" Arsenal barked into his earpiece, making sure his modulator was distorting his voice so Ollie wouldn't recognize him, "Queen and Wayne are both here! I repeat: Abort!"

[User]
John Stewart heard an explosion near the building and ran over to a window to look out. Smoke, or perhaps dust, covered the street below and he couldn't get a good view of what was happening. "I'll go see what's happening." he said, looking at Mark. "This could be an attack. You four stay here." With that he took off his suit jacket, opened a window, and activated his ring. It had been over a month sense he'd worn his old uniform, but it felt as familiar as the last day he'd worn it. He jumped out the window and flew towards that dust cloud.

Mark Patterson turned towards the others. "Don't worry. Probably another villain who's relapsing. I'll have to look over our rehab process. Maybe there's something we can..." The window shattered and a man came flying threw it, rolling to slow his forward momentum and coming up, arrow drawn.

"Mark Patterson, you have-", the man froze, the shot an arrow at Anarchy before jumping out the window he had just entered through. "Abort!" the man yelled into an earpiece, "Queen and Wayne are both here! I repeat: Abort!"

Anarchy deflected the arrow with a flick of his wrist, sending it into the front of his desk. He motioned and a hidden weapon's locker behind his desk opened, revealing his yellow and black armor and weapon. "Kevin, protect them." he said, motioning towards his gear. It flew towards him and attached itself properly to him, guided into place by his powers, and after taking a few seconds to amplify himself, he jumped out the window towards the attacker.

"Yes, sir." Kevin said, walking over to the two men. He pushed a button on his wrist computer to summon security and looked at the guests. "Don't worry," he said. "We'll catch him."

Oliver nodded, then looked at Bruce. "Did he seem familiar to you?"

"Something about the way he moved." Bruce responded. "He's definitely had some training."


[System]
Viking
Age: 17
Appearance:
Choice of Weapon: Bow and arrows (Unlike the pic)
Bio: Tyra grew up learning to fight but she preferred to make the weapons she uses herself. She never was a dragon hater and was happy when the village accepted them. She met Dreamcast by finding her stuck in an old dragon trap as a hatchling. Thankfully, the little hatchling wasn't seriously hurt and Tyra has raised her since.
Other?: Tyra prefers to attack at long range and will only use her dagger if she must.

Dragon
Name: Dreamcast
Age: 4
Species(See Wiki Page): Stormcutter
Appearance:
Personality: Very curious and loves to play, she is unlike most serious stormcutters. maybe she'll learn to be more serious when she grows older.

[User]
Tyra sat on the on the grassy edge, dangling her feet off of the ledge of the cliff. She was working on the bow. It wasn't strung yet, just doing some decorative work on it right now. She saw some carvings on some on a trader's boat that she fell in love with, and she was doing her best on copying the work. Where were they from again? Tyra shrugged off, not remembering. She slid her knife through the hard, but flexible wood, finishing the last swipe. Now the fun part. She pulled the string out of her bag, holding the bow with her feet. Tyra pulled on the tough string until she was shoved, sending the string flying into the ocean. grumbling, Tyra turned toward Dreamcast.
"Seriously!?"
The young dragon pouted, giving her the big eyed look she always fell for. Sighing, the patted the stormcutter's flat snout. "it's okay, I'll get a new string."

[Assistant] Cuyler was riding Dayla at the ocean taking a break from hunting. As soon as he closed his eyes and was fully relaxed he got hit in the face by something. Screaming like a girl he fell off the deadly nadder and fell into the ocean. Dayla startled by the screaming flew into a pillar and fell into the ocean also. Both swam to the nearby shore and coughed up sea water. "Never tell anyone I screamed like that," He said turning red. Dayla tilted her head and gave a dragon smile while wagging her tail and butt.

[User] "Where are you, you big oaf!!" Bodil had woken up to find Smite had drooled a hole in the top of her helmet. The brute had ran away and hidden himself outside the hut. Bodil marched outside with her helmet." How dare you run from me you coward!" He showed himself and snorted in a spiteful manner as he crawled back to the ground. She grinned and shouted "Well come on then, let's settle this!" Bodil dropped the helmet and lunged at him. They wrestled, sending baskets and chickens everywhere and knocking people over. "You'll have to do better than that!" SHe had Smite in a head lock, but he just wouldn't quit.

[Assistant]
The storm clouds enclosed the duo, it getting more furious each moment. The two were in sync, feeling exactly what the other one was.

"Relax Storm, he didn't mean it. He's just mad, you know how he gets when he's mad, especially about, 'family honor'"

Storm raised an eye at his rider, both of them knowing that his father did, in fact mean it, every, single, word. Storm grunted, not excepting his riders lie. They were to in sync to not tell a lie. As they rode the storm clouds lightened up, with Storm coming to his senses.

Earlier that day, his father scolded him for saying that there's 'More Out There' even though there was. Now his father had grown from an adventurous Ranger, to an uptight, self centered, rich, old man. He had wanted to uphold his family legacy of class, and Welty, and disagreed with his sons opinion, jut like he reed with all of them, because, of course, only his mattered.

"Look, I think that's Tura right there. Let's stop by to say high, shall we?"

Cal and Storm swooped down and landed with a soft, thud, about twenty feet from Tyra. He noticed her bow did not have string. Her bow was, truly, beautiful, with insignias carved all over, running from tip, to tip.

"Outta string, I have some spares if you need."

A little overboard for free. Sorry bout that! Getting used to the change from casual.

[User] Cuyler got up to see what attacked his face was a bow string. And this I screamed like a girl over? He shook his head and laughed. "Hey girl want to do some tracking," he asked Dayla who tilted her head. He climbed back on her and put the string near her face. "Track." Dayla flapped her wings and was air born again. Focusing on the scent she flew in and landed not that far from Cal and Tyra. Pointing with her tail Cuyler figured out who the person was that gave him a near heart attack. "I believe you dropped this miss," he said politely bowing while holding out the string.

[Assistant]
Tyra smiled at Cal, almost accepting the offer. But then Cuyler came along with her original bow string. Standing up, she took the strong. "Thank you! Both of you saved me a trip for a new one." She put the string in her pocket. She'll do that later.

Dreamcast ran over to Storm and Dayla, greeting them with a soft growl. Her tail wagged in excitement and tried to initiate playtime with the two, circling around them, flapping her top set of wings.

Tyra rolled her eyes at the stormcutter, leaning against her bow. "So what have you two been up to?"

[User]
"Trouble with my dad again. He almost caused another thunderstorm because of it. He's gotta temper." Cal jerked a thumb towards Storm, who noticed the accusation, and looked down, but then went back to playing with the others.

Cal stepped more towards the edge of the cliff, and felt the breeze. He let it run through him, and he smiled, not just with his mouth, but with his eyes. "I know there's more out there. Away from Berk. More dragons, more places to explore, we just have to be willing to explore it." When the breeze was gone, Cal sat back down on a rock, and waited for the others response.

[Assistant]
"I was attacked by your string when I was taking a break," Cuyler told Tyra bluntly, "You trying to kill me early with a heart attack?"

He turned to Cal who was talking to them both and raised a brow, "Yeah, we know there is more out there. Are we truly prepared though to leave this all behind and venture forth though?"

Cuyler turned to Dayla who stumbled on her bad leg while playing with the other two dragons. Sighing he wasn't sure if he was ready to take Dayla out farther then what she knew even though she tries to go out a lot father then she used to.

[User] Tyra smiled at the idea of an adventure. Daring escapes and possible treasures. Majestic dragons and amazing sights. It sounded amazing. She looked at her two friends. "Hey! Just imagine it: Taming dragons and exploring new worlds. We might be able to make our own tribe on our very own island!" Tyra walked to the edge of the cliff and through her hands into the air, feeling the ocean breeze flow through her fingers.

[Assistant]
Cal caught another breeze before responding. "That's exactly what I want to do, Tyra. It's just hard, with my father and all." Cal walked back to the cliff next to Tyra, looking at the place he hoped to the explore. His eyes followed the vast ocean, as far as he could see, before it disappeared into the horizon. There was more, so much more, and he was so close.

"I'm prepared. But the real question you should be asking is, are you?" He would go on an adventure anytime, it's just he couldn't, with his father, and- but, if his father didn't know, he couldn't do anything about it. They wouldn't know where they went, or where they were planning to go.

"What if we did it today? No one would be able to stop us, because it's unexpected. My dad is gone on a hunting trip, so I'm free to get supplies from my house. What do you guys say?" It was abrupt, out of the blue, he knew that, but it was something.

[User] Cuyler smiled at Cul, "Oh I am ready. We would need to pack a lot of extra string for bows though. Just need to grab some spare clothes and I am set." Culyer was excited now, starting a new life somewhere else and walked to edge of the cliff to join the others.

[Assistant] Tyra smirked, crossed her arms. She turned around to face the two and gave them a thumbs up. "Let's do this! Dreamcast and carrying a bunch of stuff we need, like tools, seeds, food, hide, wool, stuff like that." Tyra placed her bow on her back.

[User]
Cal was shocked. He didn't actually expect them to say yes, when he asked them on the spot, but he was excited! "That's great! I need to head to the house to get my bow, arrows, and clothes, and I'll be back! C'mon Storm!" Storm got in position for Cal to climb on, and then took off.

---

He quickly grabbed his bow, and fifteen of his arrows, with obsidian arrowheads, and put him in his quiver. He then went to his room, and grabbed three other sets of clothes, and made his way. When he returned, they were still there. "Alright, I'm ready."

[Assistant] Tyra called Dreamcast over and hopped on her saddle. Dreamcast took off to the sky in great haste, easily achieved by her massive four wings. Tyra admired Stormcutters for their intelligence and agility. The dragon coasted down to Tyra's house, landing on top of the house. Tyra held onto one of Dreamcast's wing hook and the dragon lowered her to the ground. She ran inside to pack.


[System]
Traveling Thief

Level 4

---

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

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

| VIT -- 18 | 55% | BLADES -- D
(-5 Accuracy/-1 Might)

| MGT -- 3 | 35% | POLEARMS -- E
(-15 Accuracy/-0 Might)

| SKI -- 5 | 50% | AXES/BLUNT -- E
(-20 Accuracy/-0 Might)

| SPD -- 17 | 70% | BOWS/RANGED -- E
(-20 Accuracy/-2 Might)

| SRT -- 3 | 30% | THEURGY -- D
(-10 Accuracy/-1 Might)

| MND -- 1 | 20% | MYSTICISM -- N/A
| LUK -- 5 | 40% |
| DEF -- 2 | 25% |
Secondary Statistics

ACC -- ??
AVO -- ??
WGT -- ??
RES -- ??
CRT -- ??
MVT -- 6+2

---

Traits:

Locksmith: Can open non-magically sealed doors and chests without the required item.
Celerity: Movement +2.

---

EQUIPMENT
* Bronze Long Knife

	+ MIGHT | 2
	+ ACCURACY | 90
	+ WEIGHT | 1
	+ CONDITION | 20/20
	+ RANGE | 1
	+ SPECIAL | Cannot be used while mounted, Halved affect against armor equal to or greater than its grade.
	+ COST | 60

* Bronze Throwing Knife

	+ MIGHT | 2
	+ ACCURACY | 75
	+ WEIGHT | 1
	+ CONDITION | 10/10
	+ RANGE | 1-2
	+ SPECIAL | Doubles as a ranged attack
	+ COST | 45

* Bronze Leather & Hide

	+ DEFENSE | 2
	+ CONDITION | 25
	+ WEIGHT | 3
	+ SPECIAL | N/A
	+ COST | 125

Possessions:
* One spare copper long knife
* Two spare copper throwing knives

Personality
Selfish and single-minded for the most part. He wants to see as much of the world and take as much as he can. Despite that, he gets along well with others. He will share what he finds willingly if he finds entertainment in doing so, but if something grabs his attention he will drop what he has and chase after it.

Backstory
Makeen's parents were part of a traveling merchant guild. He would travel with them seeing many amazing things. At the age of 14 he witnessed his parent's murder at the hands of their guild mates. He overheard that they planed on stealing the rare items his parents had acquired and to sell him to slavers. In despair and fear Makeen hid and ran away in the dead off night. With no where to go, he traveled between cities, stealing and sneaking his way around. In time he joined a band of sell swords who's goals lined up with his.

[User]
Lyun: "On my own... terms..."

He repeats the few words of Iddin's speech that resonated the most with him. The turning of the gears in his head is clear to see, and he soon stands taller than before. Lyun pays the Hellions no more than a nod before silently walking out of the tent and away from their camp. None of the Hellions attempt to stop the man, no more than a shout or two from the few veterans. Lyun walks, and doesn't look back.

[Assistant]
---

---

 KASHTILASHU: "Hm. You are kinsman indeed." The thickly black bearded man of large build and sun-cracked skin spoke. "Our shared blood is warrant enough to accept your aid, tell us, what news do you bear?" The provisional lord of Der's voice echoes across the small throne chamber, the still warm body of the Ensi Yasub-Yahad lies dead abaft, unceremoniously thrown into a corner until they can be dealt with. About the city are the likes of Kassities undoubtedly, some are garbed in clearly Akkadian clothes, while others must have come straight from Zagros for the movement here in Der. Yet all of them are on edge. The brute takes a deeper breath and holds it briefly. He still holds no truths regarding his own chiefdom's involvement, but that answer would have to wait. He exhales, shaking his head unapprovingly. His lack of words might lead the Angal to assume the brute is apologetic about his lack of intel, and he certainly doesn't wish to rectify that assumption. Yet.

He extends an arm towards the chief, offering his "assistance" in future endeavors. Kashtilashu nods his squared head with a thoughtfulness towards his kinsman. Before his voice returns to the hall, another replaces it. "Great and wise Angal. . ." Appearing in the midst of the throne chamber's dim firelight, an enshrouded woman kneels, her face veiled with little more than the flesh of her wrists showing. "Ye, of unequaled courage, unrivaled spleandour. . ." Stroking his thick beard, clearly appeased by her words, Kashtilashu says simply, "Mnn. Yes? Speak, crafty Soraya." Had the woman's countenance not, her name certainly strikes Lyun. She is no Kassite, nor Akkadian. . . "Our scouts have spotted three camps beyond the sourthern hills, but they are no army. Greedy coinblades the lot of them." She speaks softly. KASHTILASHU: "So, Šar Kiššati does not yet fear us? Bwahah, let their hubris be their downfall. Mercenaries will break upon these arms you have provided us!" Producing an axe of polished gray metal, the Angal tosses it toward Lyun. "You, Kinsman, you are fierce of eye and strong of body. Allow no man pass the inner gate. Now go! For the future of our people!"

LYUN acquires an IRON BATTLE-AXE!
 As the mountainous man takes his leave of the near-kinsfolk, the veiled woman again whispers honeyed words into the Angal's ear, "Wiser than the trees and sharper than any blade though you may be, great Angal, you may not be privy to the ways of the sellsword." She speaks, worming her way closer and closer with each word, "They do not know of honor in death, nor loyalty to anything but the Aurum." KASHTILASHU: "Is this so? The Akkadian's put hungry dogs to our gate, if we were simply to feed them. . . Bwahahaa! Raid Der's coffers and make haste, let us turn the dogs upon one another, let them tear out each other's throats!"

---

The fighting was fierce across the doorstep of Der where it sunk into the foothills of the Zagros. But, as like they are, mercenaries are not the kind to give their lives up for any cause, no matter what idealistic future it could bring. With great guile, Hartuum's Hundreds, the Dark Suns, and Shulaar's Scorpions manage to draw out the inexperienced Kassites from their lightly fortified walls, taking the battle to the plains and farmlands. The barbarians, it seemed, bore little wit to defend the city unlike their mountain homes. Within six hours from morning's light, the main defending force had abandoned the outer walls. What's left of the Kassites cling to the inner city walls of the old district. Finding the right moment to strike as the combined armies melee out within and before the walls of the city, the Hellions of Gyr split into several groups to insert themselves -- The Men of Titub beat-back the rear-force advancing on their left-flank while Utu's Chosen do the very same on the right, allowing the band to slip in before the southern gates unassailed. Each band quickly identifies their completed objects and promptly leaves the rest up to the Hellions, having no true stock in the outcome as long as the Aurums flowed their way. With the captain's group circling about to be sure of your safety, Ashur, Zarif, Iddin, Siris, Etor, and Makeen find themselves on the inner road.
 ASHÜR: "The time is now. . . It's best we spearhead rather than wait for the band to consolidate." The desperado's shifty eyes dart from one side of the horizon to the other, taking in the last of the tribal defenders who resisted the main shock force. "The iron is hot, let's move." He hisses, curved blade drawn forth. "Though I can't help but feel our formation is sorely missing something. . ."

---

HELLIONS PHASE

COMMENCE

---

OBJECTIVES

-- ROUT THE ENEMY --

---

FOES

KASSITE BRIGAND x4
KASSITE REBEL x10
KASSITE HUNTER x11
ANGAL KASHTILASHU
LYUN

TRAIT: ALTITUDE CONDITIONING -- Reduced movement penalty to 2 on mountain tiles. +3 Defense when defending from mountain tiles.

TRAIT: ALTITUDE CONDITIONING -- Reduced movement penalty to 2 on mountain tiles. +3 Defense when defending from mountain tiles.

TRAIT: ALTITUDE CONDITIONING -- Reduced movement penalty to 2 on mountain tiles. +3 Defense when defending from mountain tiles.

TRAIT: INDOMITABLE -- Character permanently gains +7 VIT.
Forts/Castles
- DEF +2 / AVO +20
- Heal: 20%
- Move cost: 2
- Other details: N/A

Towers
- DEF +1 / AVO +15
- Heal: 0%
- Move cost: 2
- Other details: RANGED class weapons attacks may originate from the top or base of the tower tile, their maximum range is also increased by one when at the top of a tower tile.

Houses / Villages
- DEF +0 / AVO +10
- Heal: 10%
- Move cost: 1
- Other details: N/A

Mountains / Hills
- DEF +2 / AVO +10
- Heal: 0%
- Move cost: 4
- Other details: Mounted units cannot enter this tile type.

Forests/Trees
- DEF +1 / AVO +10
- Heal: 0%
- Move cost: 2
- Other details: Mounted units movement cost is increased to three on forests.

[User]
Zarif

Though normally, any red-blooded men felt the chill of fear in their spine and the claws of nervousness in their belly before a battle, on this day, the merchant, far from his home, felt something quite different, relief. He had made it through the trial with the yeeks and could fight upon Salador's back once again.

Zarif: "They are spread across the land like the locusts they are! Let us pick them off one by one!"

The quartermaster slapped the reigns of his camel and took off, grinning wickedly as he thundered across the field. He eyed a small house, with someone peeking out an unlocked door Perhaps I ought check that out after this... Often a conquered people would shower their conquerors in gifts in hopes of getting off lightly

He bore down on a far inferior unmounted archer, swinging his brand new sling around overhead. as he rounded the second corner of the house, his projectile smacked the archer hard in the head. The poor landlocked Nassite had only enough time to loose a single , grazing shot from his shotbow, scratching Zarf's unarmored side, before the second sling bullet took him in the eye.

Zarif moves 10 tiles north-west to 10-32 and attacks the Nassite archer, dealing 7 damage twice, and receiving 6 in return, killing the archer and earing 21 exp and 2 Bow Wexp

[Assistant]
Iddin: Ashur and Zarif have the right idea! I do not see Lyun... However, the strategy still stands! Do your best to persuade the man if we encounter him. Stay cautious until he strikes an enemy: don't let him be an agent into our ranks. But if we convince him, we gain a valuable asset in this battle!

The priest skips forward, kicking up plumes of dust from the road. The smallest of glass shards form in those clouds and twinkle as they catch the sun.

Iddin: Zuzu, the great, the overseer of eternity, the collector, grant your grace upon this battlefield! May our band be given a fraction of your strength to quell these foes! I ask again to tap into your divine gifts, and bolster these men, and show them your glory!

Iddin moves 2 tiles to 16-37 and Waits. Inspirational gives +10 Hit/Avoid to Siris, Makeen, and Ashur for the turn.

[User]
Although Lyun's absence perplexed Siris, it was definitely not going to stop him.

Siris: "Zarif! Allow me to follow!"

Siris moves 6 tiles to 13-33 equipping his bronze throwing knife

Nearby he spots a axe warrior surprisingly similar to Lyun, however not nearly as intimidating. Pointing his knife at him he shouts

Siris: "Come fight me nameless warrior, unless you intend to run home to your mother!!"

[Assistant]
Etor missed lyun and felt a little uncomfortable without him in their formation. Knowing Lyun would break the tactic of whatever team they opposed made Etor a more confident fighter. Eavesdropping on chatter throughout the camp the idea that lyun might be part of the opposing team rattled him. His youth and inexperience became apparent in that moment as he didn't know how to be most useful on the battlefield. He'd have to talk to Siris to find out what makes him so confident and headstrong.

Etor: "...Wait for me! I'll go into the house to make sure we don't get ambushed."

This served two purposes. Etor would have more time to regroup and formulate ideas to find the best role he could play in this mission. There was also the possibility of more coin. Etor has heard of but never seen gray metal. He'd need more coins, as all sellswords do, to purchase stronger weapons. In the young spearman's the stronger he becomes the less likely he'll see people around him die and the less likely they are to leave.

Etor moves 6 tiles to 13-36

[User]
The finer details of the mission went over Makeen's head, but the big guy has gone rogue and the archer helped clear the path to house with potential treasures inside.

Makeen: You guys charge ahead. I'll help myself to whatever is in here.

Makeen moves 8 tiles to 12-34.