[System]
R.I.S.C. Dossier

---
Age

16

Physical Evaluation

Quinnlash is a young woman, five foot three, average build, and slightly underweight. She has very long hair (dark gray streaked with bright yellow) cut into sharp, straight bangs in front, and typically tied into a braid. When tied, it ends at approximately hip height. Untied, it falls nearly to her knees. She has extremely pale skin, unmarked with the exception of scarring around her empty eye socket (right), over which she wears a black and yellow eyepatch. Her remaining eye (left) is brilliant yellow. She has a sharp chin and jawline. Her muscle mass is slightly beneath consistent with regular exercise, and she is somewhat clumsy. She has a tendency to stumble if she isn't watching where she steps.

Psychological Profile

Quinnlash has some very strange psychological markers that nonetheless make sense when her history is taken into account. She is very much

1) Outgoing
2) Friendly
3) Cheerful
and 4) Supportive,
as well as

1) Anxious
2) Emotionally volatile
3) Prone to attention-seeking behavior
and 4) Highly competitive.

In addition, she seems to bear a great deal of attachment issues (for more information, check her background information).

Background Information

Neither we nor Quinnlash herself know exactly where she was born, but all she can remember is the house she lived in for sixteen years in Hovvi. Specifically, she remembers her own room, as she only left it—without permission, I might add—twice in her life. She was kept completely isolated by her parents, researchers on Modir and modium, and was only aware of what they allowed her to be. The only notable incident throughout her life was, as far as can be told, two or three months after she snuck out into the living room and saw the outside world for the first time. Her right eye spontaneously burst (very likely a result of sudden modium growth) and was subsequently removed.

The second time she snuck out was fully, immediately before meeting Besca, which was the first time she actually left her house. She was intimidated and fascinated, and the world seemed to stare at her very strangely. The only known survivor of the Hovvi Incident, she was removed from the town's ruins and taken to the Aerie, where she was subsequently tested for compatibility and given a modioscory to interface with a Savior.

There are a number of strange medical anomalies present in Quinnlash's system, such as her bright yellow eye and the hair being naturally yellow. More pressing is the unfeasible level of modium present in her entire system when she was first retrieved post-Hovvi Incident, and the filed and maintained seed growth of modium in place of her missing eye. Interim-Commander Darroh has taken over care of the child's training as a pilot, and should be contacted for any inquiries.
Savior

---

Designation

Ablaze

Body

Tall and lean, Ablaze is on the thinner side for a Savior. Long scutes of modium not unlike those found on some aquatic organisms run along the arms and legs, forming a sort of natural armmor-weapon combination. The fingers are long and end in sharp claws. At the pilot's request, its right eye has been covered with a thick plate of metal.

Weapon

Ablaze's weapon, suited to the name, is a cannon as long as long as Ablaze is tall that fires explosive blasts of fire. The mechanism by which it produces this fire is unknown. When phased, the cannon gains a charge mechanism, allowing her to charge a shot for up to five seconds to increase the destructive yield considerably, up to approximately twice the size and intensity of the blast at full charge. In addition, the cannon shots can be detonated on command, or detonation can be delayed as a form of trap.

[User]
There was silence for a little while, punctuated by little, aggravated grunts as Quinnlash proceeded to stumble towards the rear of the boat, having seemingly not heard her. She wobbled onto the seat, leaned strangely sideways as though she thought it might propel her back to her feet—which it did anyway, of course. She mumbled, "This sucksh," and turned back to Quinn, face scrunched up like she'd smelled something foul.

"Forget?" she said, incredulous. "'Course you din't forget. Think some ssssssssstupid drink s'gonna take our memories away? Need those. Mmh. Need those."

"why am I thinkin' these things about her?"

Quinnlash threw up her arms. "'Cuz she's mom. Duh! That's what she did. She got in, she put herself into our head, deep as she could, like a worm, but hey," she hunched down low, at-eyes with Quinn. "Look. Watch. C'mere…"

Twirling around and nearly falling over again, Quinnlash walked right off the back of the boat and into the water. Or rather, onto it. Her feet made contact with the strange waves and sunk no further than an inch in. With each step, the water flattened and hardened like sand, and when eventually her imbalance got the better of her and she flopped down onto it, it didn't splash so much as rustle like grass in the wind. More grumbling, more pushing herself upright again at impossible angles. As she rose, she flung her arms like she was slamming a door shut, and the whole world followed that motion, smearing entirely out of focus one way, and then snapping back into clarity the other.

They were no longer on the lake, but overlooking it from high above. Quinn still sat in the boat, which now rested in the grass of a cliff—though still rocked as if upon the gentle waters. The lake was below, complete with its smudgy surface and poorly-rendered reflections. Off to the distant, lower side was the dark blur of Hovvi, dotted with lights that were clearly meant to be coming from inside the buildings, but more than a few simply hung in the air, attached to nothing.

Around them, the cliff was empty, but right away Quinn would know that was wrong. It shouldn't be. There should be something here. There was something here, she knew it, even though she'd only ever seen it the one time.

They were where her house had been.

In the vacant grass Quinnlash stood triumphantly with her hands on her hips. "Lookit this. She's gone here. They both are. Plucked'em out. This is where we forget. But out there, where it's real, we need to remember. We need to remember so we know who to hate."

[Assistant]
It was disorienting, the way that Quinnlash shifted the scene. Disorienting the way that everything seemed off, even though Quinn knew why it was. Disorienting the way she talked about their mother, and the way she...got deep into their head and stayed there. Disorienting, the way it felt to once again look out over the lake from the cliffs, like everything had moved back to the start again, almost like nothing had ever happened.

But most disorienting of all was the undisturbed grass.

She knew, of course, that the house wasn't here in the dreams. She couldn't see it from the boat, Quinnlash had told her that it was gone, even, that she'd taken it away because their parents were takers. But it was one thing to know something, and quite another to experience it.

Though the boat was still moving like it was on the water, Quinn slowly, almost meditatively, walked out the back and set her feet that were all of a sudden barefoot on the grass, felt it tickling her feet, not at all considering that she'd never walked barefoot on grass and that this was probably not at all what it felt like in the waking world. No, she was preoccupied, as she meandered almost in a trance to the very edge of the cliff and sat down, staring out at the wildly shifting lake from far above it. On an impulse she reached her hand out as though to touch it. And even here, in this dream where she felt so much less, her heart burned like fire as she looked out over what Hovvi used to be.

"...But out there, where it's real, we need to remember. We need to remember so we know who to hate."

She finally tore her gaze away from the false town and looked back over her shoulder at the tiny self that stood there, little hands balled into fists. And by way of response, she let her shoulders sag and lay back, looking up at the stars decoupled from the sky. She sighed. Her voice, when she spoke, was heavy as lead and quiet in the evening gloom, filled with a nameless futility.

"...Can you help me hate them?"

[User]
The sky above her righted itself, at least partially. Patches of blurry umber snapped into focus, and there the stars were crisp and vibrant against the black. But it wasn't stable, it didn't last; if she looked closely she could practically tell where Quinnlash's focus was, where she meant to put things back together, and where they slipped from her grasp. Far away, the stars dripped from the sky in shooting strands of silver, falling clear past the horizon, and then lapsing through it.

"Incredible, right? All the things we lost. All the things we never had to lose."

The moon high above began to quake, pulling at both ends as if it meant to split in half. Instead, gradually, it became two overlapping discs, still vibrating in the distant, imaginary void, and it was impossible to discern which one lay atop the other.

"So long, alone. Trapped. What they did to us…what they made us into, taking away all we could ever be. They stole love from us."

There was a heavy sound, a long-delayed splashing of water as something cleaved through the lake. A great shadow was cast over the cliff. Standing at the edge, tall enough that its head was level with them, was Ablaze. Quinnlash stood before it, her back to Quinn, but her tiny voice was as clear as it might have come from her own mouth.

"Hate…all they left us was hate," she said, and with a rumbling sound, Ablaze's eye burst to life, washing them both in dark cherry light. "It was always inside us, wasn't it? Confused, looking for purpose—but we found that too, just like we found love. No, I…I can't teach you how to hate them. We already know how to hate them. We were just…we weren't ready, before."

She turned to Quinn, practically a silhouette. A crackling like ice. Her horns split suddenly into forking branches, and a dark liquid dribbled down her scalp. The dreamscape sagged, the grass beneath them fractured and sank, the moons dropped like coins into the lake of pitch. All that remained was the bloody tide of Ablaze's eye, and the dark figure of Quinnlash, reaching out to her with a look of joy so pure, so eager, Quinn might not have recognized her. The girl's hair shimmered white, just as it had the night before the duel with Roaki—so brief as to be almost imperceptible.

"But we will be."

Then the light vanished. The void enwrapped her again, cradled her, held her close to its endlessness as if she were something precious. In that emptiness, Quinn felt the weight of a promise sink her down, slowly, gently, until she could be absolutely certain she would never be alone.

And then she woke up.

[Assistant]
Everything was dark, and still, and quiet, and empty, and void. Quinn floated through it in a haze; half awake and half not, she was embraced softly by a wonderful senseless ataraxia. There was something comfortable about the eternity that she was bathed in, something beautiful and certain, in a life where nothing ever was. Like a warm blanket on a cold night, wrapping her up, keeping everything soft and still.

A part of her subconscious mind—a part that was slowly but steadily growing—wanted to stay there. Stay in that perfect peace.

Suddenly an image flashed through her mind. There and gone in the space of of half a blink, or maybe longer, it was impossible to tell. The image was impossible to tell as well; no rhyme or reason in the brief space her mind had to breathe before it was slowed down again. It was...it was white. It was all white, with—with some silver-gray, and—

In the waking world, Quinn's body shifted.

She floated again. At peace. But then another image blurred past. She caught some of it this time; it was a person, a person with brown hair, but that was all she could tell. And then after that, another. Again, almost no rhyme or reason, just a woman with brown—

Besca.

And all at once, that brief eternity between dream and reality was filled with flashes of blazing colors, pieces that didn't fit together. It hurt. It hurt, it hurt, her almost sleeping form began to thrash, and standing above and behind it all was Quinnlash, outlined against the bloody red of Ablaze's single blazing eye as her horns split and contorted and thick black liquid began to drip where they were attached to her head, her look of joy, then—then—As she unconsciously gasped in frantic breaths of air—

"Nnnnnnnnhhh—"

"AH!"

Quinn cannoned upright to a sitting position, and the short, sharp cry spilled out of her room and rebounded through the dorms. Her eye was wide with disbelief and fear and filled with tears. She had just enough time to realize she was hyperventilating madly.

And then her body caught up to her brain.

Her own scream felt suddenly like someone was pounding nails into her skull. And it was immediately followed in rapid time by an intense and powerful nausea, enough that she could barely hold back another round of vomit as she flopped back down, pulled her cover over her, and curled up in a ball. As the minutes ticked by, the images blurred, and the instinctive terror abated. Her heaving breaths turned to shivers, and a long, feeble groan dribbled from her mouth before trailing off into nothing:

"Ughhhhh..."


[System]
Species:

Kriliteran: Kriliterans mostly live in the forest in the north of Kanth-Aremek. They are collectors of information and knowledge. Building large libraries, where they would store their sacred books. Treating books like sacred text, taking care of every book in the library. Hyper intelligent, despite their appearance. They are also known to build various contraptions, and are known to build rather varied technology. A family would be assigned to take care of a library of books, with sons and daughters taking over once the parents are unable to. Creating various artistic pieces like music, art, or poetry. They also have a photographic memory. So they memorize everything they see, and to write it down afterwards.

Their true form are short stocky looking creatures, with three eyes. And multiple arms and legs. Their skin is a soft looking pink Having smaller heads than their disguised form. Their two eyes are sunken in, while their third looks like a regular eyeball. Having small bulbous lumps on the side of their face, and below their eyes that act like ears and noses. These lumps have small holes that allow for air to go through.

Their appearance changes so that they do not scare the other races. Mostly appearing as tall creatures with sunken faces and pale skin. Large eyes that seem to be bulging out of their sockets. Having stocky builds, with multiple long arms and legs. A large head with no hair on the head.

Kriliteran is a peaceful race, trying to solve solutions without spilling any blood. However, there have been conflicts with other races and factions. Either wanting to steal their books or enslave the Kriliterans. A significant battle happened involving the S'tor Who wanted to enslave them to build new war machines.

This war ended in the enslavement of the Kriliteran for four hundred years. Soon leading up to the Kriliterans rebelling and going to war with the S'tor. But were outclassed by the S'tor, with the S'tor killing most of the Kriliterans. With only a small group of Kriliterans surviving. Escaping from the S'tor, while leaving their libraries and cities to be demolished.

Modern Kriliterans live in small settlements in the northern part of Kanth-Aremek. Mostly trading with other Kriliterans. Most of them will be fine with trading with other races, however, they are very weary of outsiders. They are no conflicts currently, but they have a strong hatred for the S'tor.

The Kriliterans worship a god named Niftari. Niftari is the keeper of knowledge both common and forbidden.

Appearance:

Kolvar's appearance looks much like the other Kriliteran in their disguised form. Wearing a large black robe that hides most of his body.

Augmentations:

None

Magical affiliation:

Life Domain

Occupation:

Scribe/Inventor

Key skills:

Inventor/Booksmart:

Kolvar is a skilled inventor, having been taught how to create certain things. Constantly planning and building various inventions, to varying success. Being knowledgeable in various topics. And having encyclopedia like knowledge.

Swordsmanship:

If Kolvar is forced to fight he knows how to handle a sword. Learning from his master how to fight with a bladed weapon. Although he prefers a dagger or short sword, he is more skilled with a rapier.

Medical Knowledge:

Kolvar is knowledge in the anatomy of most races. As well as various diseases and illnesses.

Backstory:

Kolvar was born in the main city of Kriliteran's homeland. This city is called Tu'rakum. Living with his parents and helping them with categorizing the books. Reading most of the books inside the library, while being taught life magically by his master Urth Kamith. As he grew up into adulthood, he took over caring for the library. And in his spare time would dabble in building various inventions. Wanted to explore outside of the Kanth-Aremek, experimenting with ways he could try to make communications.

Kolvar was sent to explore the Ascendancy and Mythadia border to find and bring back an ancient Kriliteran book. While heading towards the ruined library, he noticed a large burning star coming towards the planet. Being curious he decided to explore the crash site.

[User]
Kaqir's exuberance was quickly tempered by the sight of the Glen. Gods above. It was nothing she couldn't fix, of course, but the fact that they seemed to have carted him across such wild roads with an injury like this... well, it couldn't have been pleasant, to say the least. His voice was too tight around his thanks, all scratch and scrape and—no. It would be fine. She tipped her head in what she hoped was a reassurance. "You're welcome, sir. This should only take a moment."

Pressing a talon to his chest, she took a deep breath.

Bone and blood and sinew screamed into her touch. His ribs were thoroughly cracked—though whatever broke them had the decency to leave him with a clean fracture. A direct blow, and a strong one at that. He certainly looked the fighting type. Who were these people? A noblewoman and her guards? Her gaze caught on the Iriad. They looked far too interesting to mix with high society, even in some place as open-minded as the Ascendancy. And the fellow Tekeri clearly had enough of an understanding of magic to be familiar with Life practices. Perhaps a group of bounty hunters?

She shook the thoughts from her mind. She was getting paid to heal, not investigate. It didn't matter who they were.

Closing her eyes, she smothered the urgent cries of his pain receptors. He didn't need to feel what was to come. That was a step you only had to miss once. Diagrams crumpled in her head, fresh ink on old paper. She'd operated on very few Glen, but their anatomy was still familiar, if a bit more mammalian than she was used to. Her notes were messy but memorable, and that's what mattered. The anterior chest cavity of a Glen was much sturdier than that of a Tekeri. There was no need of coaxing, just command. Her magic seized the marrow, stretching it to the severed fragment and twisting inside. That helped fuel the shell of periosteum, lengthening the ribcage back to its normal size. His lungs seemed to be unharmed. It was almost eerie to hear their rasp without a pulse between them.

Fortunately, his lower ribs fared better than those in his upper half. Some minor contusions along the muscle and inner bone, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with some expedited tissue cleaning. His heart, which was nestled in this set of lungs, beat healthily.

Exhaling slowly, she awoke his deadened nerves and withdrew. A few lingering cells tugged at her attention: scattered scars beneath his cuirass, burns curling across his arm, old bruises yellow beneath his fur. They weren't things meant to be healed, though—if he had allowed their presence this long, they were a part of him. Memories. Warnings. Badges, maybe.

She met his eyes and smiled. "There we go! You should be all healed up. Do let me know if anything still hurts."

[Assistant]
The bridge
Wodan picked one hell of a time to come online. A proximity alarm pinged twice around the bridge as the Jotunheim's radar picked up six locked-on missiles. Everyone leapt into action.

"Evasive action, NOW!" Zey shouted, diving towards her seat. Bosko immediately went to full speed ahead on the main engines and yanked the control yoke. The Jotunheim's beetle-like shape exploded forward and pulled up towards the dawn sky, but it was too late. The missiles were moving at 1,200 metres per second, and there was no way the hulking spacecraft could avoid them all. The first missile went straight towards the bulbous shuttle bay on the side.

The shuttle bay
Ezra threw the spasming spider droid onto the shuttle bay floor, gritting his teeth from the pain. He quickly looked down and dipped his fingers into a rip in the undercoat covering his right arm. His fingers came back red with blood - the robot had cut him.

He looked back up at Eva as she came over to grab the spider. He crouched down and picked his assault rifle quickly back up, then stalked towards her.

"No more games. Open this door or I'll-"

The deck shifted dramatically under their feet and the engines shook the deck under their feet. Everything seemed to move at once - an unsecured box smashed into the soldier's legs and he stumbled into Eva. Darnell shouted, staggered and fell back hard into a row of jump seats. The airlock door opened, and the sound and sight of screaming civilians could be heard in the service corridor, then they closed again.

Then a massive explosion ripped through the bay. The ramp fell slightly open, and a section of the hull in the corner buckled and burst. Flames gushed in, whipped up by the wind. A maelstrom of shrapnel made a sound like tinkling glass as it impacted surfaces. One of the large straps securing the shuttle snapped as a siren blared.

---

The second missile fizzed past the ship and exploded in front of the bridge as Bosko violently levelled out of its upwards ascent and turned it to the right. A long, thin pleasure craft veered out of the way to avoid crashing into the Jo, and moved straight into the path of the third and fourth missile.

The last two projectiles soared straight into the engine shielding, and the whole aft crackled with bright blue energy. The kinetic barrier forced the missiles to explode early - a savage shockwave buffeted the hull and shook the insides.

Engineering
Zhao strapped in, her face illuminated by glowing in the light of various displays crowded around her.

"Power spike! Someone talk to me!"

"It's the FTL drive ma'am, it's jumping all on its own!" Varen shot back. Vigdis would see dangerous fluctuations in her console's readings.

"Kill it, now!" Zhao commanded.

"It's not responding!"

The noise was unbearable. The shields were screeching, and now the FTL's whine had rapidly risen to a crescendo.

"Engineering to Bridge, emergency jump imminent" Zhao yelled into her comms piece.

The sky was dark, and full of stars over Kanth-Amerek. The only sounds one could hear in the wilderness was the rustle of foliage and call of animals. These calls turned into frantic screeching as a thunderous boom rolled over the land and echoed off the far hills of the Ascendency. The sky flashed, like with lightning, and a dull mauve scar seared into the atmosphere. A bright ball of flame emerged, and hurtled towards the ground.

The Bridge
Zey had only just made it to her seat and strapped in before the panicked call from engineering. Her eyes had involuntarily closed against the bright flash, and now gouts of flame erupted from the shield cabling below the Bridge cockpit windows. The sound of missiles had totally gone, and the engines were eerily quiet, more of a sooradic judder than a continuous sound.

"Where are we? Somebody give me a sitrep right now. Wodan? Welcome aboard - reboot our sensory array." Zey ordered, staring at the curved bank of screens that folded out of the wall to surround the Captain's chair. All of her external data sources were making zero sense.

[User]
Kareet observed silently as Kaqir worked. She had seen, and received, such healing many, many times before, so there was no tension for her. The only worry might have been if Kaqir was not a competent Life mage, but everything Kareet could see was perfectly acceptable. Healing simple injuries was far from the most complex thing a Life mage could do, after all.

Once Kaqir was done, Kareet gave a quick look over the Glen. No visible injuries, at least, and no more signs of pain. It was sufficient. She reached around to her backpack and produced a small pouch, from which she grabbed a few silver coins. It was far more than the coppers most peasants might be able to scrounge together, and consistent with what a healer would expect to be paid in the capital. "Thank you for your assistance." Kareet said politely as she dropped the coins into the healer's hand. "I…"

Kareet's voice trailed off quickly. There was…something that caught her eyes in the sky to the north: a flash. At its source, there was something glowing, very distant. Tekeri had particularly sharp eyesight, but even to her the details were difficult to discern. It was like a hole in the sky through which daylight was shining. Through it, she could see a hint of fire, of distorted shapes she could not discern, and of…something that seemed to be moving. All she could really see of it was a red glow, like a fireball.

A few seconds later, something like the loudest thunder Kareet had ever heard echoed across the landscape. All at once, it was like the whole town froze. Anyone who had not noticed before now had their eyes to the sky. Even Glen villagers who had been roused from their sleep started to file outside as well to see what was happening.

[Assistant]
Kolvar was moving between the different stores, asking the owners where Dagmore could be located. Most of the shopkeepers didn't seem to know where the old ruins were located. He was halfway to giving up however, he would soon have a moment of luck. An old looking Glenfolk approached him. "Excuse me, son, I had seen you walking around the town for the past couple of hours. And I was wondering if I could help you?"

Kolvar felt flattered that this old man would want to help him. But he was not sure if he knew where Dagmore was. "Well, I am searching for a lost Kriliteran book. And I was wondering if there were any ruins in the area?"

The old man smiled and rubbed his chin with his hand. He seemed deep in thought, "Well there are a few I do know of around here. There is Dagmore which would be the most well known ancient structure." His train of thought was interrupted by Kolvar speaking up.

"That would be the place I am looking for, would you be able to direct me to where the ruins are located?" The Kriliteran seemed overly excited about the old man knowing the ruin's location.

The old man took longer than Kolvar hoped to try to remember the exact location, he was more than patient for him to finish. "Thank you for the directions, sir." Bowing his head he walked off, following the instructions the old man had told him. He noticed it was starting to get dark. Pulling out a small lantern from underneath his clock, he lit the small candle.

he stars outside were shining brightly tonight. It was a beautiful sight. Kolvar took a moment to admire the beauty of the night sky. He noticed a bright star burning more noticeably than the others, at first he thought nothing of it. Assuming it was a star near the planet. But this particular star seemed to be coming closer and closer. Quickly ducking onto the ground, covering his head with his hands. Thinking for a moment the whole world was going to end. Muttering a prayer to his god to protect him.


[System]
Sheets
(Pic here. Please no anime.)
Gen:
Allegiance:
Nature/demeanor: (optional)

Strength:
Dexterity:
Stamina:

Charisma:
Manipulation:
Appearance:

Perception:
Wits:
Intelligence:

Abilities: (I'm not listing them, just fill in what you have at what)

Backgrounds: (don't bother with Gen, I get it)

Disciplines:

Humanity:

History:

Plans for the Apocalypse:

(Pics here human and apocalyptic. Please no anime.)

Name:
House:
Faction:
Visage:
Nature/demeanor: (optional)

Strength:
Dexterity:
Stamina:

Charisma:
Manipulation:
Appearance:

Perception:
Wits:
Intelligence:

Abilities: (I'm not listing them, just fill in what you have at what)

Backgrounds: (don't bother with Gen, I get it)

Lore:

Torment:

History(human and demon):

Plans for the Apocalypse:
(Pic here. Please no anime.)
Name:
Allegiance:
Nature/demeanor: (optional)

Strength:
Dexterity:
Stamina:

Charisma:
Manipulation:
Appearance:

Perception:
Wits:
Intelligence:

Abilities: (I'm not listing them, just fill in what you have at what)

Backgrounds:

Humanity:

History:

Plans for the Apocalypse:

[User]
Stover was a tiny town in the middle of Missouri. Two major roads met in T that connected the north east side of Missouri to the major tourist attraction, the Lake of the Ozarks.

The town had a feed store, a grocery store, two gas stations, three churches, a bar, and a diner. There was a single school that covered all grades k-12. The population never seemed to climb above 1,000, as most of the young folk who were not connected to a family farm or business skipped town as soon as they could. Stover had its rednecks, but surprisingly few, actually housing decent country folk. This was not a town to hold a healthy supernatural population... Except for two things.

In the forest south of town was one of the biggest fonts of energy in the region. Changlings, Mages, wraiths, and the changing breeds quarreled over the font for generations until a lone vampire came and brought order to the region. Under a loose, but binding treaty, the supernatural population in and around Stover worked together to protect the font, and the people, from outside threats. This Union didn't set well with many of the supernatural communities, but many could not find a reason or way to object.

The second feature was the tourists. With an almost constant stream of strangers going through town, it was easy to have strange people come and go with little question. With the entirety of the law, church, and media under someone in the union's control, the supernatural population of Stover were free to operate in peace. The Vampire did not hold his own kind above that of the others, working deals and trade with every kind, ensuring everyone had what they needed without infighting.

Even before the flash on the screen faded, something deep inside whispered a disbelieving memory. 'The Morning Star'. There was an instant urge to get back to L.A. The image of the Angel burned into the eyes so that even after the screen turned to snow, the image of Lucifer in all his glory could still be seen. It was truly him. Somewhere deep inside, he just knew. The Devil himself was in the city of angels. Two other feels, like a sixth sense arose. The sense of God... No, not quite, but something Truly Holy. And a burning fear. A dread that something far worse is coming.

The current job, investigation of a family known as the Giovanni, known to have ties to both vampirism and necromancy, had taken James to the East coast. After a month of of paper trails and stake outs, James had found the house, but no Giovanni. None living or undead anyway. The mansion on the coast was crawling with zombies and wraiths. Not simple ones either. These were old souls, and the things they animated were no joke either. The Giovanni meeting seemed to be at an end, however, as some of the zombies happened to be some of the family he had followed here. He had just gotten back to the motel when the news peeked. He would still have to pack and head out.

The roads all across the country were crazy. Looters, doom sayers, evacuators, all trying to get somewhere, and James was forced to stay on the back roads on his was to L.A. Once, when reentering some semblance of life along the outskirts of St. Lewis, MO, reception returned to James' phone, showing he had a voicemail. It said it was from Lauren, but there was a woman on the message.

"James. My name is Fara, and I am calling on behalf of Lauren, as he is recovering. He was in the fight in L.A. and can't speak at the moment, but he suggested you may be able to help us with something. L.A. is in ruin right now, and the military has it quarantined, so you can not return there yet. There was a group that appeared in LA in the middle of the battle, then vanished as it ended. This group is a legend. A myth. But there were far too many witnesses to disbelieve. This group calls itself the Carnival of Chaos. Werewolves have very little dealings with them except that it is said they have an abomination in their ranks. An abomination that once was a writer of our sacred books. We need you to see what you can find on them. We need to know if they have anything to do with the Apocalypse, and what side they are on. We would go, but we have too many injured. Lauren seems to think you may be on your way back to LA... The only thing we could get from the group is that it is supposed to contain a collection of several kinds of supernaturals, and they may have something to do with odd occurrences in a place called Stover Missouri.

James. Don't jack around. These people have been said to topple entire towns, killing vampire princes and everyone involved with them. This is serious, which is why we need to know their intent. Be careful. Lauren will be OK, and I will have him call when he can." *Click*
If James tried to call back, he would get a voicemail.

The Society of Leopold has been on the move as a whole for months. All over the world, supernatural activity has surfaced on a larger scale than any time since the dark ages. Ghosts, vampires, werewolves, and even Demons have made themselves known in some kind of panic. A band of priests and paladins had been sent to Cairo and Los Angeles, and though they were told not to hold back, neither returned. The Sisterhood of Saint Claire had been sent to both these locations with another small band of hunters to see if anything could be done, Sister Meredith being sent to America.

After landing in Florida, the group had acquired a pair of RVs, one for the nuns, the other for the hunters, and had headed west. The events of the L.A. battle occurred while the group sat at the family ran diner of "Mom and Dads" for lunch in Stover Missouri. The four other customers, plus 5 staff members all glued to the small ceiling mounted TV. Drinks were clumsily refilled, and checks not even printed, as the day wore on, but no one moved from their seats. Then came the Morning Star. A flash of brilliant light followed by the image of an angel bathed in light and glory. A couple of the nuns reflexively crossed themselves, tears pouring from their eyes.

The hunters immediately left as the TV suddenly clicked to static, the image of the angel still burned on the screen. The nuns however, sat, all looking to Meredith. There was a mix of reactions around them. One of the cooks instantly went back to work, though his blank stare showed he wasn't really home upstairs. Many quietly got up and left as if they had all paid and were simply through. One of the waitresses broke down, fell to her knees and began to pray. Someone else was praying as well in the back, though it was in another language. The manager simply turned and went into his office, a solid click showing it was firmly locked.
There is a sudden spark of terror that strikes all Malkavians at once. It it there only a moment with the thought of Caine. Then it is gone. More echoes follow of panic, fear, elation, and triumph from lesser malks all around the world. The first however, was the strongest ever felt by the madness network. After this there is nothing but static. Excited static, but no more than is ever buzzing the cobweds. Then came a vision. A lone Malk. Anthous, or Anthony or ant colony, who knows. There are images of a circus, a freak show. Supernatural beings acting for humans. Beings pretending to be humans pretending to be beings. Wasn't that in a movie once? Moving on. Caine! Mark of of the lord keeps Caine safe, but the lord isn't here. Who's keeping Caine safe? Caine keeps Caine safe. Safe to walk the halls of his city. The first city, the dead city. Were the dead live. Caine is Hungry.

Another wave of fear from that strongest source.

Angel of death. No. No angel, no demon. Reaper. Caine's last chance. Never! Rage, contempt, pride. Lucifer! But not. The morning star. Execution, the end, the end times. A black marble? What the hell? Moving on. The marble is cracked. Breaking more as it spins in nothing. Not nothing, a labyrinth?

Image of the old wooden Labyrinth game.

Something's coming from the ball. Light and anti light. Like a firework. Fourth of July?

Something else among us. "They Live". Good movie. Seen it? Moving on.

L.A. city of angels. All Too True. Angel, and devil, and death! It begins. The trinity has come together. The truth is out there. Not a fan. Aliens? Really? Aren't we fucked up enough? L.A. Been there, done that, got a bloody T-shirt. I have seen the devil. Huh.

A circus ticket appears
"Carnival of Chaos"
701 N Oak St, Stover, MO 65078

Be there or be squared.... Or dead...

[Assistant]
James redirected himself on the road, heading for a place called Stover. James hadn't operated in the back country much, especially not that of the Midwest, and he was still a bit on-edge from the Giovanni case, and the news spectacle from L.A. He was also worried about Lauren, and desperate to talk to him, especially given the recent...memories transpiring in James' head. Akiel... This name reverberated through the whole of James' being, causing a nagging feeling that something else was with him. Something...ancient. There was also a spiritual feeling, one of an entity that felt both new and familiar to James, the presence of something powerful and Holy. These thoughts wrapped themselves around James' mind as he drove, and would not cease for another hour.

Pulling into the town of Stover, James located the center of town, looking over the various businesses and houses in the small town. Locating a bar, James pulled into the parking lot, stepped out of his car, and walked in. The bar was rather full given the time of day, but James supposed it was natural given the events that had recently transpired. Ignoring the looks parted on him by the townsfolk, he stepped up to the bar and took a seat at a stool, waiting quietly for the bartender to approach him. "Whiskey, on the rocks, with a water back." He said to the bartender, who walked of to prepare his drink. Gently tapping his fingers against the bar, James would simply watch the muted news broadcast on TV waiting for his drink to arrive.

When the bartender returned, James thanked him, but spoke to him before he could walk off. "James Odeman, private investigator. I'm in town as part of a case, and in need of some information. Recent events have brought me here, and I was wondering if you could help me. See, I'm looking for a carnival supposed to be in this area. Would you happen to know anything about that, or know anyone who might?" As he waited for the bartender's reply, James sipped at his drink, watching the person carefully.

[User]
The bartender gave a soft grin, but the answer did not come from him. Instead, it came from the man sitting next to James at the bar. He looked like he maybe 21, his blonde hair spiked straight up. He wore a long red leather trench coat, and through it seemed to be shredded and covered in holes in some places, it was hard to tell if the wet places on it were blood or some other liquid due to the red of the coat.

"Bud, you're lookin at it." His voice came, amused but somehow tired. The man shifted to face James, the coat moving in telling ways the investigator would likely be used to looking for. There were long solid places along the back of the coat suggesting swords. The coat also made exaggerated shifts near his hips suggesting guns, but if they were, they were damn big ones.

Even inside the bar, the man wore rose colored shades, but as she moved towards James, he slid them down his nose slightly to look at the investigator with bright yellow eyes. "Question is, does the Carnival want to know you?"

Looking around the room, James would be able to notice many of the patrons were concealing weapons, and some weren't bothering to conceal them. Likely ones with jobs or permits to allow them to open carry. Something inside James seemed to roll over in recognition when he looked at a couple of them. Not something visible, as they looked human enough, but something inside him knew they were not what they seemed.


[System]
Age: 16

Race: Human

Gender: Female

Appearance:

A bright eyed girl from the Steppes of the Northeastern highlands, she carries with her a brightness and optimism that would lead one to believe her a simple runaway girl with dreams of adventure. Her complexion is tanned from her time spent under the open sky, and she seems to be in a perpetual good mood, judging from her omnipresent smile. She is of a lithe build, and has a slightly bowlegged stance from her life spent riding on a horse. Her arms and legs are fairly toned and muscular for her frame, making her a lot stronger than your average girl from a farm.

She is almost perpetually seen with her hair in a ratty mess, the only restraint to it being her hairband that keeps her bangs from blocking her vision entirely. Her outfit usually consists of a traditional tunic of the Steppe, with large sleeves that give her arms free movement, a black long skirt that has been ripped at the sides to allow her legs more freedom, and a pair of leather sandals. When adventuring, she wears a leather breastplate beneath her dress for added protection.

Height: 5'7"
Eye Color: Amber
Hair Color: White

Personality:
A little ball of sunshine and happiness, there doesn't seem to be much in this life that can get the Steppe Archer down. She carries with her an almost infectious energy that brightens up the room, seemingly always in high spirits.

Her optimism is matched by her keen observation skills. In just a few minutes, she can identify the people in a room at a glance, and tell how someone is feeling by their expression. Despite her perceptive nature, she herself is very blunt, and often unable to think before she speaks. It is not uncommon for something she says to come across as harsh due to her lack of common sense compared to most other people.

Likes: Horses, Sweet Meats, and Flowers
Dislikes: Enclosed spaces, Negative thinking, and Insects
Hobbies: Leather working, Cooking, and Stargazing

History:
On the large rolling plains of the Northeastern Highlands, one is born, lives, and dies on the move. There is no pause available to the nomadic people, with each waking moment spent with focus being on procuring food, supplies, and, once those begin to run low, the focus shifts to uprooting the camps and moving elsewhere on the Steppe. Their society is organized by numerous small "tribes" that have banded together to form a Confederacy, overseen by a leader who rules for a period of ten years after a martial tournament is held between the greatest fighters of the tribes.

Before she was born, her father was heralded as the mightiest man on the Steppe, unbested in archery, and a master of wrestling. On the second year after she was born, he was dethroned and retired to his previous life of being a hunter to provide. In the time she spent with her father, she would learn the art of the hunt, and come to grow into a young girl. Life would proceed as it did, the circle of life in an unending loop, marching onwards with the beat of the people who's lives were spent chasing life. It wasn't all bad, not in the slightest. The meat was plentiful, the hunt was thrilling, and the life lead was one far from purposeless.

Eventually however, the decade-held tournament would be held, and with the rise of a new chief came new and bizarre laws. One of which being that a "bride" of each tribe was to be offered to his son, as if they were pieces of meat to be handed out. And quite unfortunately, she was "selected" as the delegated bride. Rather than accept some impish demand for her virtue and hand in marriage to some spineless whelp, she would instead flee the Steppe with her father and mother's blessings, figuring that she could eek out a living as a mercenary or adventurer.

With no military willing to accept such a young girl despite her demonstrated skills, she was left with no avenue but to become an adventurer, arriving in Palisade town on the Frontier due to its closeness to home.

Adventuring Rank: Porcelain

Equipment:
Nomad Bow: A composite recurve bow of Steppe Archer's own making, made out of horn, wood, and sinew. It is well used from the years that Steppe Archer has spent hunting. Due to its smaller overall size compared to a normal bow, it is ideal for shooting on horseback and while moving, while not sacrificing the power of a full bow.

Nomad's Sword: A steel curved sword resembling a slightly less curved scimitar. Ideal for slashing things apart, or gliding past something with a slash. Has a large enough grip to be two-handed.

Torchfire: A beautiful mature auburn colored horse that Steppe Archer rode into town on. Despite the fact that she isn't able to bring it on many adventures due to the danger, she still insists on keeping it stabled up in Palisade Town, just in case she needs it. She is Steppe Archer's pride and joy, and her greatest asset in battle on a more open plain.

Skinning Knife: A small knife that's sharp enough to cut through flesh. Usually used by Steppe Archer to skin the beasts that she slays, in order to sell the pelts for a sizable sum. Steppe life taught her never to be wasteful.

Steppe Ensemble: Steppe Archer's protective leather breastplate beneath her folk-style dress. Her clothes keep her cool in just about any climate, and the leather armor beneath provides enough protection to shield her from light damage.

Porcelain Adventurer's Tag

Skills:
Horseback Riding: There are few that can match the riders of the Steppe when it comes to equestrian based combat, and as a proud Steppe child, Steppe Archer can ride with the best of them.

Trap Setting/Disarming: Much of the Steppe's hunting is done using traps to catch prey. As such, Steppe Archer is proficient in finding the perfect spots to place traps, whether that be to aid her friends, or harm her foes.

Handy Woman: On the Steppe, work is divided amongst the men and women equally. As such, Steppe Archer is skilled with physical labor, capable of many tasks that many in the realm would consider "men's" work.

[User]
When told that Druid girl needed some herbs, Steppe Archer wasted absolutely no time in leaving with her little fairy friend to go and find them. "You got it!" she said before scampering off into the night with the fairy on her shoulder. With a description of the flower in question, the nomad girl headed off to the north of the goblin cave by following a constellation. It was easier to make her way back from coming North, since she just had to find the constellation again and walk in the opposite direction. Thankfully she would find a cluster of the flowers in place not too far away from the nest. With ginger precision she would pluck the flowers out from the roots, getting a grand total of eight of the herbs. She had no idea how many were needed, but she had to imagine that this many must be sufficient. And if she needed more, she could always circle the area...at least that's what she thought until her keen eyes caught the signs of old wolf tracks. They weren't close by, but it was a good indication that going further out meant venturing into dangerous territory.

With her bounty in hand, the archer would return after shooing off some badgers that seemed to be attracted to the smell about her. She was glad that animals seemed to steer clear from the goblin's nest, making her trek back fairly uneventful. When she came upon the druid girl once again, she proudly presented her eight herbs, asking: These are the ones, right? Do you need some more, or is this enough?"

[Assistant]
Druid Girl nodded as Steppe Archer accepted the task she'd been requested to do. She then perked up as Big Red rumbled his musings about herbs not being able to cure a dislocated foot. True enough, there wasn't a plant on the planet that could pop your joints back into place by merely being applied, but then again a dislocated foot couldn't kill you, unlike a still-bleeding or open wound which could get infected. The caramel-skinned girl decided not to say anything about that topic though, no need to go into semantics when the big fella was just trying to be helpful... In his own, awkward way...

She made a slight grimace when the reptilian man, rather brusquely, popped the goblin victim's foot back into place. The red-head herself made a quick, nasaly whine and blinked just as the sensation of pain coursed through her body, but other than that she made no discenrable or noteworthy sounds or movements that would indicate that she'd been much afflicted by the sudden treatment... Which was just depressing. Druid Girl gently stroked the poor thing's forehead in a vain attempt to comfort her. She didn't much care for the choice words that Big Red had used about him not liking to waste things...

"Helping someone is never wasteful." The druid state rather quickly after the lizard had spoken, and rather curtly. It was rather obvious that her kindness didn't agree with pragmatism or cold logic.

Still, she was gracious enough to thank the lizardman for giving up his potion, and she wasted little time administering it. After that, she told Big Red to be careful before he went back into the cave to retrieve the other bodies. Not that there was likely anything inside left that could actually hurt the behemoth, but it never hurt to wish someone well, and to remind them to be careful, no matter how big and broad their shoulders were.

Soon enough, the nomad returned triumphantly, brandishing the bounty which she had collected. Druid Girl smiled warmly as she took the plucked plants.

"These will do fine, thank you." She said, setting to work almost at once. She would strip the small saw-toothed leaves from the stems and then, using the very tip of her sickle, would cut into the plant's side, causing a small, translucent but still misty liquid to seep out.

She began to gently rub this syrup-y goo onto the places and injuries which their potions hadn't been able to fully close or heal. The dark skinned girl worked fast and efficently, but still managed to be both gentle and firm at the same time. Of course, her teacher would've been much better and done a far better job, not having wasted any of the flowers, but with what they had, the girl did just fine. When she was finally done, and all the wounds had been sutiably smeared, the raven-haired girl let out a sigh of relief, apparently having been holding her breath while she'd been working. With a soft smile she looked over at Steppe Archer.

"Good work, this'll really help her body recover, and I couldn't have done it without your help." She said, looking back to the poor girl on the dirt ground infront of her and gently stroking her forehead again. "Once Big Red gets back with... The other two... Do you think you could help him set up the pyre too? I want to stay and keep an eye on her." She paused. "And the sooner we send the others off, the quicker we can get back and ask that man if we can borrow his barn for the rest of the night." She added, furrowing her brow at the mention of the farmer. It wasn't like her to be angry at someone this long, but that man had just ruffled her feathers.

[User]
The Fighter was genuinely surprised by the lack of any thrashing or screams at the joint being put back in place. Was the girl that broken that she couldn't even instinctively make the effort to fight against pain? Just lay there and accept it? If she was going to be like this forever it honestly felt like it'd be a mercy to end her mental suffering. But he wasn't a Seer, he couldn't check the futures of anyone to see what it held for them.

Druid Girl commented on his words, making him shrug. "If there's little to no benefit to something helping it's a waste of what was provided aside from morale and moralities sake." He said as he vanished into the dark of the cave once more.

Upon returning to the group with the bodies and his own figure bristling with crude weaponry, and laying them out, he finally sat down. Reaching into his pack he pulled out a big chunk of jerky and tossed it into his maw before chewing. Tough meat, but still yummy. While he was chewing he pulled off all the weapons and tools he had gathered. Some of them seemed salvageable, mainly the tools since they were built hardier than a typical weapon.

Pulling out a rag he began wiping the sludge off the weapons and tools while he waited for Archer Girl to return to the makeshift camp while Druid Girl tended to the injured and fire. Getting rust off would take chemicals he didn't keep on his person, and the deep nicks couldn't be worked out with a simple whetstone. The handaxe and hatchet could be worked over though, same with the higher quality knives and the longsword.

Speaking of the floofy girl returned rather quick, clutching a fistful of the plant Druid Girl wanted. While those two took care of the salve...or whatever it was Druid Girl was going to do with it he set about gathered old and new wood. The green would burn longer, the old would catch faster. He kept it local, not moving too far out because of the darkness. But still it didn't take too long to gather a portion of lumber.

[Assistant]
There was no need to even ask the nomadic girl if she wished to help with the pyre or not; all people deserved a burial, regardless of who they were. Even a cremation counted in her eyes. Her task off providing the herbs to soothe the girl's injuries was over, so now she could help their lizard friend build up their stock of wood to burn. Human bodies would burn, but to actually turn most of the bones to ash would take a lot of heat.

She would gather wood as well as, focusing on gathering the dryer woods to get the temperature up quickly. ...Unfortunately, no matter what they did, this was going to reek like death. A burning corpse wasn't a pleasant smell. With her wood gathered, Steppe Archer would turn to the corpses laying on the ground and knit her hands together in prayer. "Spirits of ancestry, witnesses of your children's deeds, let these brave souls pass peacefully into your embrace..." she said, giving the best prayer her culture could manage; one reserved for warriors that died in battle defending their families. It may not have been the most accurate, but without a proper priestess, a prayer for fallen warriors was the best the Steppe Archer could do.


[System]
Real: Skadi Türkis
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Age: 19
Nationality: Atlesian
Color: #6ecff6
Emblem: A clipart of a brilliant cut diamond
Voice actor: Shirley Manson

Themes:
Main - Neutral - Happy - Angry - Sad - Semblance - Fighting - Victorious - Defeated
Appearance:

Diamond is a rather tall woman with a lean build, being 178 centimeters tall. She's only as strong as she needs to be, having developed a physique for slipping into tight spots and blending in with the crowd. The woman weighs around 62 kilos with slightly lower than average percentage of body fat.

The dominant feature of her face are her eyes, which are sky blue and have a turquoise glow to them due to her dust implant. Her hair is golden in color and cut short, styled into backwards facing spikes. As a northerner from Atlas, Diamond's skin is very pale.

The dust implanted in her caused a blue pattern to develop on her back and an overuse left a crystalline blue weblike pattern on her right arm. If she uses her ice spells, these along with her eyes glow blue, and her eyes flash into white when casting a kinetic spell.

She doesn't wear a battledress in the traditional sense, preferring not to be hindered by armor of any sort. With her semblance and dust implant she also prefers to leave her arms exposed, usually wearing a pair of sturdy boots, pants and a vest.

Diamond carries herself with pride most of the time and makes good use of nonverbal communication, having learned the meaning of various gestures and being able to use them to convey a different meaning from what she is actually saying. In combat she moves with the fluidity of a gymnast.

History:
During a particularly nasty winter, a child was born to an uncaring mother who barely had enough mercy to leave the girl on the doorstep of the first house far enough. As it so happened a rather poor elderly woman lived there and upon finding the crying newborn took her in. She gave the girl the name Diamond due to her blue eyes.
Unfortunately, five years later Diamond's adoptive mother died, leaving the girl to fend for herself on the streets. A crafty little thing, she quickly found out that instead of begging for the food, it was easier to simply take it when no one was looking.

Living in poverty, the girl has had enough after two more years. Growing stronger, nimbler and bolder, Diamond started rifling the pockets of unsuspecting passer-bys. It didn't take long for the gang whose territory she was on to threaten her into joining. Having nothing to lose and all to gain, Diamond was happy to accept.

In the next few years, Diamond slowly but steadily became great at her craft, rising through the gang's ranks nicely. It all came to an abrupt end however when another gang made a move on their territory. During the fight her semblance manifested and gave her the means of escaping the brawl without getting hurt. Afterwards, she went solo again.

After honing her skills for several more years and nearly getting caught a few times, Diamond made a reputation for herself in the underworld. Finally, she got contracted to pull an art heist for the first time. She started working as a hired gun, taking items of opportunity for herself along her jobs. For the next year, she lived quite the luxurious life and amassed significant wealth for her age.

Growing careless, Diamond got caught by an undercover cop while pickpocketing for change. Having nothing on her other than the pickpocketing, her sentence was just a year in juvenile detention.

Coming face to face with several less than pleasant experiences and generally starting to understand that when she barely survived a month of Atlesian Juvy, she would die in a lifetime in an Atlesian prison, Diamond started working her hide off to make something of herself, moving to Vale and paying herself a crash course to drastically improve her combat abilities.
A year later, she made it into Beacon.

Personality:
In one word, Diamond is a bitch. Sarcastic and cynical, she has nearly no moral blocks and will happily relieve you of money you didn't guard well enough just to show you she can. The concept of friendship is something new to her and it shows in her opinion on people swinging easily. Diamond can feed you complete garbage without losing a serious expression on her face. If you piss her off, prepare to suffer a thoroughly planned humiliation.

She might be a criminal, but she is a classy one. Violent crimes are a strict no-go unless something has gone horribly wrong. She quite enjoys the thrill of sneaking around and defeating various obstacles like motion sensors and locks. In her mind, every moron can rob a dust store at gunpoint, but it takes skill to do it in a way that makes the owner notice only a day afterwards.

Apparently she is not past redemption, because after Juvy, she decided to do something with herself and applied to be a huntress, even though her main reason is to hone her skills rather than to protect the people.

Skills:
* Combat
	+ Hand-to-hand: Average
	+ Short blades: Expert
	+ Long blades and polearms: Proficient
	+ Firearms: Lacking
	+ Dust: Beginner, talented
* Common
	+ Leading: She has what it takes to do well enough, but lacks self-confidence
	+ Lockpicking: Expert
	+ Hacking: Skilled with older systems, haven't kept up with recent advances
	+ Pickpocketing: Proficient
	+ Cooking: Wizard
	+ Drinking: Practice makes perfect

Powers:
* Inborn
	+ Shadowshifter - Diamond absorbs her shadow into her own being, gaining the ability to alter her own body much like the shadow before. She can turn any part of her body into a shadow form. In such a state, she is more resistant to physical damage, although her senses are somewhat dulled. The true ability is that Diamond can alter her shape within some bounds. Her shape has to remain humanoid in essence, but her limbs can stretch, sharpen or bulk up, for example she can grow talons or change her entire forearm into a blade. She can also turn flatten herself into a shadow to pass through small gaps like under the door.
* Acquired
	+ Ice dust implant - Diamond had Ice dust fused into her nervous system, giving her the ability to cast spells through her fantasy alone. This kind of dust allows her to create and manipulate ice. It comes with downsides though - too voluminous or quick casting will damage her nerves, or other tissues in later stages.
	+ Kinetic dust implant - Same as above, granting Diamond telekinetic abilities. Other than moving things with her mind she can also use this to project physical attacks over distance.

Relationships:
* Cobalt Chideta: "A passive lad. I don't mind him, but I also fail to notice he's in the room half of the time."
* Oswald Connoly: "Ugh! His attitude can be infuriating, especially when he's not much better than I am. It's in his eyes. He's seen - and done - some nasty things."
* Emerald Felicia: "Lovable goof, infuriating airhead. Just friends."
* Esther Vanhomrigh: "Just benefits."
* Träd Oak: "Smoking and drinking buddy. Quite possibly the only person in this school that I can stand without any reservations."
* Sapphire Rode: "Someone from an entirely different world than I. She has the right to her opinions. They're mostly wrong, of course, but hey."
* Kuhaku Shiro: "Infuriating klutz, comedic relief. Generally harmless and epically innocent."
* Skyra Dawn: "Very recent acquaintance. Dunno. Seems to follow the general feline faunus trend though."
* Amaranth Desire: "The reminder of the past I want to forget. Business, that's all it was."

Trivia:
* Diamond is left handed.
* She is afraid of deep waters.
* A quitting smoker.
* She likes red meat and high quality alcohol.

[User]
Luke Schwarze -- Gambit Success!

"I worked fast food a couple summers ago. Seen things you'd never believe." Luke replied with a smirk. Within seconds, the wristwatches were gauntlets once more and he turned to face the two leader-types left standing. He liked these odds much better than before. Much, much better.

Stepping his right foot back but not quite bringing his guard up just yet, he scrutinized the two further. Not much to tell besides "White Fang Member a step above the fodder".

Hm.

So I don't know anything 'till they show me.

With that in mind...

"Mind if I ask what the odds of us coming to a peaceful resolution here are? I'd rather we have a chat than get our hands dirty."

Two parts bravado, one part actual truth. It ended up coming out sounding much cooler than the fact of the matter. He wasn't too enthused about fighting somebody he knew nothing about.

They didn't need to know, though.

[Assistant]
Marcus Goldstein - Convoy Escort

"Go around? Dude you have a giant gun can't you just blow it up?" truck driver 3 complained. The tall wiry man Marcus privately dubbed 'captain hook' given the unfortunate shape of his nose and his tendency to assume he was in charge.

"Negative three. Might as well ring a giant dinner bell that we're here. I don't want to attract the attention." Macus replied coolly. His gun remained pointed at the fallen pile regardless. Optics zoomed in at the base of the quartz pillar, searching for the signs of the work of men. Pickaxes, high explosives, water cutters and their like all left highly tell-tale marks, if one knew what to look for. The thing that stood out in this case was the honeycomb of small tunnels cut through the rock at the base.

Marcus chuckled when the answer struck him.

"People, it was the bugs themselves that did it. I took a closer look at the pillar, they made so many tunnels at it's base that it became unable to support itself and just fell over." he said over the radio. He chuckled again, sitting up straighter. Stupid bugs got him all excited for nothing.

"Mister Rice I make up only a quarter of this team. Be assured that Oswald, Diamond and Aurellius are very capable in combat as well. Anyway Oswald the basic plan for the trucks is to make a run for it should something happen, remember?" Marcus said. Had he not been clear enough in his briefing? Whatever the case, it could wait, truck two spotted something ahead of them.

"The hell?" Marcus muttered as he zoomed in on their destination. The camp was surrounded by the wrecks of the previous convoys, fortified to hell and back. One convenient bottleneck remained as a pseudo entrance. This wasn't good. He counted at least seven different weapon traces in the battered transports. A fuzz entered his mind as the tank crossed some invisible threshold.

"Fuckblaarghaaddam." he snarled and threw a specific switch. Instantly nearly a full half of his sensors dropped dead. There was only so much military surplus a teenager could get his mitts on even with his parents helping out with paperwork. So by necessity a lot of the after-market electronics he'd strapped on where not rated against this level of jamming.

He blinked as he absorbed what Diamond yelled at him up on the turret. Okay, get a grip now Goldstein.

"To sum up: Radio's gone, a lot of my sensors are shot, and the camp is a write-off. That jamming means the ambush is already started. By the time reinforcements get here either we're dead or they're gone. Instead, Oswald, Aurell and me are going to attack them from the left. You sneak around and shut down that jammer. If you can grab paperwork or anything else that points to who is behind this and how they worked." he half shouted. These orders needed to be crystal clear, no pun intended. That done he slowed down to let Diamond off if she wanted to.

Further forward Oswald had the common sense to stop the trucks instead of run forward into an obvious choke-point. Marcus just prayed the drivers kept their engines idle. Breaks squealed as the tank came to a halt next to the lead truck.

"Trucks, back to Vale! We are clearing the camp and we'll radio you when we're done. Oswald, Aurellius on me, we are going to bust a wall down and sweep this place clean." the young officer ordered. Implied was the order that if no word was received from MODA the truckers were supposed to keep running all the way back and get them reinforcements. Or at least arrange a nice funeral. Once the two hunters had joined Marcus he went into a bit more detail. As he spoke he drove away from the entrance, going around the camp in a wide arc.

"Diamond's off to look for the radio jammer, we are the distraction. The enemy is a humanoid rebel group of some description. Check your targets! Could be prisoners or Diamond in there. For the rest, make some noise. We want all of their attention on us!" Marcus outlined.

"Can do!" Aurellius replied with an eager grin. The whine of his minigun spinning up underlined his words.

[User]
Diamond Frost - Convoy Escort

Nodding at the instructions, Diamond shed her coat and put it somewhere where the tank seemed the least greased and muddied. Unlike her usual blouse, she had a black turtleneck below that was much better for moving around. And around her neck was a scarf that she now pulled over her face, praying her teammates wouldn't ask why she was carrying gear that made her look like a crook.

As the tank slowed down, Diamond jumped off and headed in the opposide direction, sticking to cover where she could. Her gear was designed for the night and was quite obvious against the grass and quartz all around, but the undergrowth was high enough to hide her on the last stretched as she crept closer to the improvised wall, flattened against the ground.

So far it looked like she remained undetected, judging by the lack of alarm ringing and guns shooting in her general direction. The girl slid along the wall towards one of the points where it wasn't as high. Listening in for a second to hear whether there was a watch on the other side, she used her semblance to summon a few platforms which she used to leap over the barricade.

Landing on all four, Diamond quickly glanced around and found a shady spot to hide in. She recited her objectives in her head to remind herself of her task. Find and disable the jammer. Look for intelligence. Where would those be? Right, the jammer would need a big aerial. A quick glance around the compound told her exactly where to look. Intel would most likely be located in an HQ of sorts, which Diamond guessed would be too heavily guarded to access without a fight. However, where there was an antenna, there was also a communications station. Perhaps she could pull some logs off of there.

Taking a breath she looked around for guards before waving between the buildings, doing her best to stay out of sight. The thundering bang as the rest of her team got to work only helped somewhat. true, some guards left their postings to go help deal with the threat, but the rest was now perfectly vigilant.


[System]
Age: Twenties
Short Bio: Originally born somewhere in Haiti as "Tallulah Black", Vivienne was born to a poor English mother, before she was abducted by slave traders, and forced into servitude under a retired-pirate named Albinus. After countless suffering, Vivienne finally shot him in self-defense, and escaped to New Providence, where she became a very intelligent con-artist, posing as a tavern prostitute, and stealing high-valued items from its customers. Eventually becoming a full-time buccaneer, hiring a crew that consisted John Silver as quartermaster, Vivienne went on many conquests and cunning crusades on her ship "Red Rose" to collect many different treasures and artifacts, becoming the first notorious female pirate to ever arise in the Caribbean. Since the discovery of Salazar's treasure, her personality started to change for the worst.

~ ~ ~

Name: John Silver
Age: Late Twenties
Short Bio: Also known as 'Long' John Silver, due to his claim of having a "long memory", charming con-man John is a walking-mystery to all. With a past most-unknown, and skills rivaling that of Vivienne Black, he originally insinuated himself into the crew of Captain James Flint, after their attack on a merchant ship John was upon. While visiting the brothel, John receives an offer he just couldn't refuse, after he found himself seduced by the 'beauty-of-the-sea': He willingly dived into opportunities, after becoming quartermaster to the crew of Vivienne's Black 'Red Rose'. Some speculate that it's just about looking out for number one, but others speculate that bonds and ties may have made him a bit too staunch...especially when it involves the Lord's daughter.

[User]
Vivienne listened to the young girl's response, and a look of sympathy appeared on her beautiful, coy-looking face. The pirate is more surprised at this girl's courage, and the last thing she wanted, was to make tensions go higher. So she was quite impressed with her wit. Speaking of this said-wit, Abigail willingly turned around to face the woman, and Vivienne allowed the girl to do so, but still kept the silver blade at her neck. "Once again, I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Abigail", she lowly, and softly responded in confirmation.

The pirate had to admit that she felt a slight bit of fondness for the girl before her, and she did feel a tad bit regretful to put her in such a position. But she was her ticket to get out of the hands of authority right now, so she kept up the act in this very dangerous game.

Abigail was only at least five-foot five or so, and the task at hand wasn't hard. The pirate perked her eyes up in a challenging way with a coy smirk towards the English, before turning her attention back to the girl before her. "It's been a pleasure. A young woman, who has a whole life ahead of her, does not deserve such an early fate", she simply said, with that grin again. "I appreciate your concern, but I've come prepared", she added with a wink, before carefully turning her back around.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd love to stick around and chat, but I have some business to attend to!", the brunette announced as she walked backwards slowly, with Abigail still in her grip. Suddenly, she let her go, pushing her back to them, before grabbing a rope behind her that was tied to a tall gantry. Kicking a belaying pin nearby, and allowing a counterweight to fall, she was being lifted up to the top of the structure.

[Assistant]
Facing her uncle and the others, Abigail kept her chin up. She could make out Elizabeth out of the corner of her eye. Her cousin looked extremely worried. It was touching a bit but honestly, she didn't feel like there was any danger. Feeling Vivienne slowly pull her along, moving backwards, she did her best not to trip as that would work against Vivienne.

If she was trying to escape, that would have been ideal. A slight trip backward, use her weight to push back against the woman behind her. She might get nicked but all in all, she'd probably come out alright. But Abigail couldn't - wouldn't - do that. If the woman was captured again, she'd be hanged and that was something Abigail couldn't stomach.

She had seen a few hangings in her time. The daughter of a lord and governor of a province, she had been required to go to a few public executions. Thankfully for her, most of her time was spent in London or here at Port Royal. The former - justice was carried out by others and thus she didn't have to go. The latter, she was spared due to the fact her uncle was a bit more tender toward her and Elizabeth and tried to shield them. Still, the few that she had seen had left her a bit sick. The snapping of the neck, or worse - the death from suffication, where the body twisted and turned trying to get air - even now the thought of it made her have to swallow.

She would not let her rescuer get that fate.

So when she was surprisingly pushed forward and released, Abigail quickly thought on her feet and took the off-balance push and letting it fall into a more clumsy fall that put her in the pash of the soldiers. It wasn't obvious as it happened quickly and no one but her and Vivienne had known how much force had been in that push.

As she was grabbed and handed out of the way, Abigail felt her cousin's arms engulf her in a hug, even as she watched the woman flee.

[User]
"Now will you shoot her?!", the governor demanded of the Commodore, and the order was made by the man himself, as the muskets began to blaze. "Open fire!"

They were shooting at her now, and a shot grazed one of her bare legs, as she used her strength to jump from the tall structure, and on top of another. Wasting no time, Vivienne snapped the manacle chain over a line before her, and zip-lined herself down from the structure, eventually landing on her feet upon the ground of dirt, a few yards away from the dock, and running. Running as her organza bustle gently waved behind her in the wind, keeping herself low from the bullets of the muskets. A few women screamed in terror as a few of the men's shots ricocheted, and came perilously close to them as they whizzed by. Vivienne ran through the gunfire, sprinting across the bridge and passed the terrified ladies.

Clearly, she had no idea where she was going. Vivienne may have been to many ports, but Port Royal wasn't one of them. Not to mention that the British now use it as a non-pirate port. For that, she had no direction on where she was going; only ending up at the port's market. Trying hard to steer clear, it was now becoming difficult on where to go. Coming out of her hiding spot behind the smithy's statue. So far, there was no where beyond the smithy for her to go; 'red coats' were everywhere, looking and searching.

Slipping herself into the working smithy, Vivienne figured that there would be something in there that could get the stubborn manacles off of her. Not to mention that she had an injury to tend on her leg. Seeing the fire nearby, she placed her wrists inside the fire pit, so the blazing heat will allow her to break the iron. Wincing a bit in pain, she gave her wrists a mighty tug, until it snapped, making the chain break. With that out of the way, and placing her pistol nearby on the work bench, she ripped off a parchment of her dress to wrap it around the spot where one of the British soldiers grazed her. It was bleeding, and the bullet had to be removed, but with time being an ass, Vivienne couldn't. Not until proper treatment. For now, she just wrapped it around her right thigh.

[Assistant]
Abigail watched as the woman made her escape. It was amazing. Brilliant. Still, she bit her lip slightly as the muskets went off. Thankfully nothing hit the other woman. She didn't get to watch much more as Elizabeth pulled her away from it.

"I'm fine." Her insistence was ignored, as had been her earlier pleas to let the woman go. That was one disadvantage for being young and female. Nobody seemed to take her seriously.

After Elizabeth ensured she was fine, then her uncle, and finally the Commodore - Abigail found herself whisked off with a safe escort back to the governor's mansion. She glanced over at Elizabeth.

"Sorry I fell off during the wedding. Had you said the vows yet?" She asked. She figured it probably wouldn't be good idea to bring up that they just let Vivienne go. Especially with her uncle across from her.

Still, her mind was slightly distracted as she wondered if the woman made it.

~ ~ ~

He should have been back to the blacksmith shop by now. But honestly, Will hadn't been overly eager to head back. His master was probably drunk and the streets had been fairly deserted what with everyone up at the wedding. It gave him some time to think. Time, he probably shouldn't have used as it had just made the whole situation more depressing. The girl he loved was marrying another. It would have never worked but that didn't make the pain any easier. He felt like someone had punched him hard in the gut and then jabbed a knife or two into his heart before leaving him.

And the solitary walk hadn't helped any.

Entering the shop, he glanced over toward the corner. He made a disgusted noise in his throat and shook his head. Sure enough, his master had been drinking and was out drunk. "Right where I left you." He shook his head. He moved forward and then stopped. Looking down at a tool he frowned. "Not where I left you."

He looked up. That's when he saw her. She was very attractive and in her current position, a bit immodest. But that quickly slipped his mind as he saw the shackles, the weapons and realized who she was.

Lightning fast he drew a sword and held it out toward her. "You're the one everyone's talking about," he said. "The one that kidnapped the Governor's niece."

He had picked up the news on his final leg back. He would have gone to check on if Elizabeth and her cousin was ok but he figured they were now. No doubt heavily guarded and his going over there would not be appreciated. Especially as he'd then have to explain why.

But it worked out. Because right here was the woman who had threatened the life of Elizabeth's cousin. And that meant she brought grief and stress to Elizabeth. Something he would not tolerate.

[User]
Elizabeth could only feel glad that her young cousin was out of the hands of that pirate woman. As much as she and Abigail daydreamed about the whole pirate image, the elder now knew that neither of them could be fully prepared, if they were ever to get caught up, in a bad situation. Quite literally.

Having to follow with Abigail back to the manor, she had to really go back and think about her cousin getting caught in such a bad spot. Not only that, but back to the vows that she had made. "We did", she simply responded, to hitch sounded like a mix of worry, and almost regret. Commodore Norrington was not the man she had wanted to marry, but another of whom she couldn't have.

————————————————

Tying the last knot with the loose parchment, Vivienne gave a few winces once the bandage was in place on the wound of her thigh.

Damn those sentries and their guns.

She thought to her inner self as the pain hit her, the randomized bullet rubbing against the flesh of her leg once she tightened it. The brunette tried her best to stand up, but it was proven difficult once again with her wound, making her lean against the workbench near the pit of fire. Taking a few breaths, she didn't hear the latch being fiddled with. From the outside! The brunette didn't move from her spot and she froze, once she heard what seemed to be one of Port Royal's blacksmiths. She didn't need to get herself caught by the public, but honestly, this new arrival sounded interesting, and a hint of curiosity hit her.

Despite this curiosity, Vivienne kept herself in a collected fashion once again, as if she was expecting a visitor; the same way she expected one of her crewman to enter her quarters back on the ship. She didn't look at him, though, just kept her head down, while keeping herself leaning against the bench. The only thought she had was: Really? Really? But this thought was on a pause once she heard him take a few steps towards her. Smoothly, by sucking up the pain, Vivienne stepped away from her leaning position, and looked upon him with her youthful visage; her expression cold, but soft while examining him up and down with her blue eyes, only keening a little. She stalked a few steps towards him, even as he pointed a recently-sheathed sword in front of her.

"You're an interesting specimen", the pirate observed, as her eyes scanned him a little more. "Yet almost familiar", she curiously asked him. Keening her blue eyes a little, she felt this action to be pathetic: challenging/threatening a pirate with said weapon. "You sure you want to cross blades with a pirate?", Vivienne half-teased with curiosity, before sheathing her own sword, allowing it to grind against the steel of his own to tease him a bit, while slowly putting herself into a defensive stand, her eyes boring into his own. "A woman?", she added.

Kidnapped? It wasn't exactly as such. But rather an action performed to make an easy escape. "I think you mistaken me for someone else, love. I'm just passing through."


[System]
Age: 16

Appearance:

Occupation: Princess

Personality: Living a sheltered life where everything is taken care of for you results in a fairly selfish attitude. Anise is a confident girl who believes that she can get whatever she wants so long as she asks for it. She is impatient. She loves stories and art. She is a proud girl with a know-it-all attitude. The only people allowed to tell her what to do in her mind are her father and her fiance. She can be headstrong from time to time, and will often take action without thinking it through. She is extraordinarily naive. Overall... she certainly is quite the princess.

History: Anise grew up without want or need for anything. Everything she asked for she received. Her whole life was perfect as far as she was concerned. She had a personal maid that did everything the told her to. She never learned what fear was. She never knew true hunger. She lived a carefree life in her Father's castle reading books and painting. Her only outside time was spent in the garden on the castle's grounds where she learned about the flowers there. Father had found the perfect prince for her to marry, Harrison Lyons. Never had she actually met the young man, but that didn't matter to her, after all Father knew best. The wedding was supposed to be soon, but now that is completely up in the air, after all she has been spirited away.

[User]
Anise listened as Morly explained that the lake was forbidden. However, forbidden or not, she knew what she had to do. She smiled as he stated that he had never broken the rules before and let her get onto the boat.

Anise already liked Morly. He was just as fun and exciting to be with as Tyaelaem was even though they had just met. She was just caught off guard by Reus' sudden attempting to climb into the boat. She didn't think that he would try so suddenly. At least he was careful enough not to capsize the boat.

Anise found it quite amusing to watch the theatrics happen between Morly and Reus. Reus stubbornly stood his ground as he was told to go back to the witch's house. Anise didn't like the sound of witch, but remained quiet while she thought of a solution. He probably ran away from the witch and that's why he chose to follow her after they met the last time. "Reus, could you follow from the shore?" She gently as possible connected to his mind using the lantern to get a clear response from him. She also wanted to know anything else he might have to say about Morly.

She faced Morly and brightly said. "Thank you, Morly, I won't let you get into trouble because of us."

[Assistant]
Artemis raised an eyebrow at the knight's back. Enthusiastic old codger, wasn't he? But then she paused when she watched him clamber up onto the platform – and the metal remained dull and lifeless. Scrunching her eyebrows together, she glanced up at him and then down to the metal again. Why wasn't it glowing like it did for her? She watched as he climbed up the tree, idly wondering at the sight of a rusty old knight scooting his way along the branches. All the while she took in his words, desperate for any clues to explain her new situation.

"Please be careful up there, Sir Neary," she called. He was the only resource she had. Wouldn't that just be grand if he fell and injured himself when she still had no clue as to where she was? "Have you ever seen such a tree before?"

Her eyes widened when he waved away some bizarre bat-monkey creature.

So chimeras were commonplace, based on his reaction. Ticking trees were not, but not so out of the ordinary as to be wonders. The runes did not glow for him.

Artemis looked back to the man when he called for her to stand under the lantern. She eyed the platform warily. But… he had a point. Gathering herself and clutching her staff just a bit tighter, she stepped up. Sure enough, the runes came to life, their glow mingling with the lantern's crimson light. Artemis stepped forward, trying not to look hesitant, until she was standing under the lantern, arms held out to catch it. Her staff sat upright, leaning against her shoulder.

"I'm ready."

[User]
Reus snorted and flicked an ear, glaring stubbornly at Anise -- but he finally sat on the shore with an irritable huff. Anise would once again get the feeling that he highly objected to having his mind probed by the lantern, but this time he allowed her just enough access to assure her of Morly's trustworthiness. The young kith perpetually traversed the length of the river; Reus had never seen him on shore. Morly transported supplies and passengers for Kith and Pirate alike, declaring the river to be a neutral zone, and so was left on his own.

Morly pushed away from the shore with his stick. "As long as we're on the river we're safe. Everybody knows that. But once we cross the witch's barrier at the lake, she'll come running. We just gotta be quick. I'm the quickest, though."

As the raft began to float downstream, Reus stood and began to follow along on the shore. He lowered his head and flicked an ear, peering across at Anise, and willingly communicated with the Lantern.

The last time the wolf had seen the witch, she had been leading Simon away from the red Lantern where the boy had first appeared. Reus would have liked to blame Simon for the witch's disappearance, but his investigations had proven differently.

The witch was gone, as far as he knew. Arin -- the murderer whose corpse had provided the blue lantern to Anise's possession now -- had maliciously destroyed the source of the witch's power and protection. The witch, unknowing, had led Simon into her house -- and then the wild trees had broken into the house and snatched both Simon and the witch away into the forest. Reus had searched for her -- but had found Anise, Randold and Hania instead.

But Simon was here, alive. Perhaps the witch was alive somewhere, too.

The raft was picking up speed, and Reus broke into a trot to keep up.

"So yer lookin' for the pirate ship, huh?" Morly called over the sound of the rushing water. "There's lotsa neat things on the ship, I heard. Maybe even a dragon egg. How're you plannin' to get past the gryphons, then? They like to sit on the mast. Everybody knows that."

---

"Hm?" Sir Neary hummed as he scooted along the branch, knife in-hand. "Oh yes, my lady, I certainly know a thing or two about these ticking trees! They were created by the first artificers, centuries ago, in order to keep the dragon eggs in a weakened state. The clockwork enchantments suck power from the egg continuously, so it may do no more harm." He paused, huffing, and wiped his brow with a gauntleted hand. "The eggs must be kept trapped and separate, or risk the end of this world as we know it. This tree is a very important prison." He put the knife to the glimmering thread that held the lantern.

"But the situation has changed." He sawed at the thread. His voice had changed to an airy hiss. "There's an alternative plan."

The thread snapped and the lantern plummeted.

The tree clanged and clattered, broken with a metallic clamor inside the hollow trunk.

In the same instant, the glowing metal floor dropped out from under Artemis, and she -- with the Lantern glowing steadily red -- fell into the gaping cool abyss below.

As she fell, the form of Sir Neary vanished. In his place was a dark shadow with hollow gray eyes, watching her fall.

Artemis would hear the rushing rapids before she splashed into cold foamy water. The rapids whisked her away down a sloping dark passage, twisting and turning and dropping, and the Lantern tumbled after her.

The speed of the water slowed by degrees, and Artemis dropped, finally, into deep water.

When she raised her head to the surface, she would draw a breath of fresh night air. She had ended up in a narrow river that cut through the forest. Stars glimmered overhead.

There were voices approaching, and a bright blue light that moved along the water toward her.

"So yer lookin' for the pirate ship, huh?" a child's voice said in the distance. There were at least two people aboard a raft, coming closer. It would pass her by within a few moments. "There's lotsa neat things on the ship, I heard. Maybe even a dragon egg. How're you plannin' to get past the gryphons, then? They like to sit on the mast. Everybody knows that."

The red Lantern lay on the river floor, beneath Artemis.

[Assistant]
Anise nodded as Morly explained how the river was safe, but the sound of witch was a bit unnerving. "That's good the river's safe. How long should it take for us to get there? How quick will the witch take to come?"

She felt a bit of a rush as soon as the boat started to pick up speed. There was no way that they were far from their destination. This left her feeling eager to return the Lady of the Pond to her home and get to her next objective: the remaining lanterns. She knew there was one at the pirate ship, and if she made it there safely then she could get right to work on returning the forest to its natural state.

Anise opened mouth and then closed it to think a bit. So they were called gryphons? Like the fairy tale monsters? "Do you know any way to calm them and maybe keep them from hurting my and my friends?" She felt she could actually calm them down with the help of the Spirit Egg, but she wanted to have another option available just in case that wouldn't work. "I don't want to have to fight them if I can help it."

She the suddenly thought up an idea as the Lantern passed her thoughts. She concentrated on the egg within the lantern itself and tried to make contact with it. Hello, I'm Anise Sinclair, Princess of Riverforde. I want to help bring the forest back into its proper balance, and there are going to be gryphons in my near future. Can you help me? If the lantern held an egg within it that meant she was carrying a living thing, and this egg seemed to be beyond normal conventions. Thus she thought perhaps she could communicate with it on some level.

[User]
Artemis scrunched her eyebrows together and tilted her head to the side as she tried to make sense of his words. Dragon… eggs? Tree prisons? But her thoughts halted when the old knight's voice turned chilling as the night wind. She stood a little straighter, the hairs on the back of her neck bristling. Since waking up she'd felt confusion, nervousness, frustration… but for the first time she felt a very real trickle of fear trailing up her spine.

And then the ground left her. Artemis could only look up to see the haunting grey eyes of the shade – pulled from the darkest corners of her childhood tales – drift farther away as she fell.

She wasn't prepared for the water. It stunned her with a gasp – that she immediately regretted when water rushed into her lungs. Flailing for some sort of hold on the situation, Artemis spluttered and coughed, desperate for air. She was helpless to the currents as they pulled her along. All she could think was that this was how she died. All her life, her pain, her mistakes had lead to this one, confusing, unimportant end.

I want my brother.

The thought suffocated her more than the water did, unbidden and more powerful than it'd been in so long. She did not deserve her brother. But at least she would see him again.

She couldn't do much when she found herself dropped down again, but the water she met was calm and languid. Breaking the stillness of the river, she flailed and coughed some more, blind to everything but the fear in her heart and fire in her lungs. Artemis managed to keep her head above water long enough to cough out most of the water from her lungs. Her eyes watered from the pain, but then it was difficult to tell since water was just about everywhere. Water and voices. As Artemis returned to her senses, she felt more thoughtless panic bubble up inside of her. She didn't have time to register any more than her desperate need to hide, protect yourself, there are hungry shadows here and you don't understand.

I want my brother.

The thought echoed in her head again, sadder and softer, but still desperate. Artemis breathed out ragged gasps as she tried to shove the thought down. Frantic, she looked around for some sort of escape. The voices – accompanied by an eerie blue light – were almost upon her. Soon their owners would see her.

A red glow below her drew her eye then. Artemis looked from the glow to the river's edge, where a brush of reeds grew, to the blue light. Making her decision, she sucked in as much air as her pained lungs could hold, and dove. The river was dark and murky, but not terribly deep. Soon enough Artemis found the lantern and pulled at the heavy shawl pinned around her waist. (The scarf tied at her wrist had slipped away in the rapids, as had the feathers pinned to her hair. The marking painted on her skin were a dripping, ugly mess. She hadn't spent an hour in this world, and already it was dismantling her piece by piece.) Scooping the Lantern up, she wrapped the shawl around it, hoping the fabric would be enough to stifle the crimson light it emitted. Then with all the force she could muster, she kicked off of the river's floor towards the edge, where she remembered the reeds growing.

When Artemis surfaced among the brush – as quietly as she could – the boat was already passing over where she'd landed. She clamped her free hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle her pained breaths and pushed herself further into the plants. The swaddled Lantern was held close against her stomach, under the water's surface. Artemis was too focused on the thundering in her heart and the fire in her lungs to notice anything else that might've stalked the shore.

[Assistant]
Just as Anise finished her thought, she barely had time to wait for a response when she saw in the water a red glow. However, it was briefly as it went out before she could inspect it more closely. She reached out with the Spirit lantern probing for whomever or whatever was there. There was only one thing that she thought could make such an odd red light: another Lantern.

She decided to take the initiative. "Hello? I saw your light. My name is Anise. What is yours?" Her nerves spiked with anticipation as she prepared to duel in a battle of wills with the Spirit lantern.