[System]
Nickname(s):None
Gender: Male
Age:??
Appearance: Astiroth stands at 6'7 feet and has a lean muscular build. He posses red skin, long black hair that goes down to his waist, and black horns that resemble deer antlers though they aren't as big. His eyes resemble a bright yellow with a tint of orange. His hands are covered in black scales and posses six fingers, two of which resemble thumbs, and have black claws. He does not wear any armor on his upper body except for his cloak. He wears plate metal on his legs that go from his waist to his knees and does not wear anything to conceal his feet. His feet are covered in black scales and resemble giant talons that have six digits.

Species: Demon

Weapon(s):  Demon great sword made in a one handed style. The sword is named Morrath. He also possess a cloak named Vurros that can take the form of extra limbs to aid him in maneuverability.

Abilities: Possess enhanced physical abilities and senses. Has extensive knowledge of dark magic but can't use them. Has control over hell fire and demonic magic. Is a seasoned warrior that is skilled in hand to hand combat and with a sword.

Reason: As the demons are a dying race and on the verge of extinction. Astiroth stands as the last line of royalty and seeks to save his people by making a pact with the neighboring people. He believes helping them save the king will open up terms for negotiation.

Brief Personality && Biography Description:
Astiroth serves as the last living demon with royal blood. Due to this, he is very caring for his people and only seeks to save them. He can often be seen as a cold individual on the surface and appears to have no real concern for others. On the inside however, he is a caring person who despises conflict. Astiroth served his early life among his people during a time of upheaval. His people were plagued by a disease that began to take them on the verge of extinction. Day by day, his watched as the numbers of his people dwindled from millions to only hundreds. His father, who was the current demon lord and leader of his people fell ill and told Astiroth to take his people and leave their plagued land. Astiroth took what little remainded of the demons and left in search of a new home. As the years went on, Astiroth searched for refuge and even confronted kingdoms for aid. Stating that he simply looked for a home for his people and did not desire conflict. He was always turned down however because demons were despised. Though he has currently found a temporary refuge for his people bordering a small kingdom. Word had reached him that their king had fallen ill. He sought to help save their king in hopes that it woukd grant his people a peaceful home.

Additional Information:
While Astiroth boasts a large amount of raw power. He is still young and does not posses the refined skill of seasoned demons. Despite this his power normally shows itself in times of great stress. Astiroth, at the request of the kings adviser, wears a necklace that keeps his power in check and cannot show his full might unless it is removed. He cannot remove it however and it must be removed by a another individual who trusts him.

Side Note: Any form of divine magic can severely cripple Astiroth for so long as he is around it.

[User]
Josephine wandered out of the castle just after dawn, pack laden with supplies and swaying back and forth with every easy step. She looked around regretfully as men set up shop amid a pall of disquiet so thick you could cut it with a scalpel. She had only been in the country for around a month, set up in the castle dungeons, toiling day and night with records and tests to try and find the cause of the good kings illness where his court healers had so far bungled. She'd looked in his blood. She'd looked in his bile. She'd searched his stomach and intestines. She'd taken a core of his bones and sorted through his leavings. She poured over every record in the castle, searching for signs in his past or similar systems in his ancestors. All turned up nothing.

She hadn't yet searched in his brain, but that was only because she was positive the guard wouldn't be quite so understanding once she broke out the drill.

There was a long, drawn out caw from the top of her pack. She frowned slightly, looking around at the scant morning activity around her. "I think you are correct. I did not notice it when I first arrived." She said to the slid blue peacock perched atop her pack, idly preening against the bed of snakes that made ups its tail. Though she'd at least determined that the kings illness wasn't contagious, it was nevertheless apparent that the whole country had been stricken with the disease. She was reminded of a play she had attended in the grand theaters of St. Guiernon during her student days, in which the land and the king were one. His absence was a gaping wound that, left untreated, would surly cause the whole of Naviance to rot.

So she came upon the appointed place, at the appointed hour. It was a remarkably unsurprising little group she spotted as she arrived. There was one of the kings men, obviously. The quiet one. Jenso, the hero. One of the court healers she had past on her way to and from the kings chambers several times. She didn't care for them, though remembered that this models name began with a S. Then there was...well, she had an idea.

"Healer." She said as she came upon the gathering. "If I'd been informed we could have left the castle together, bonded over our mutual uselessness." She nodded to the men of the group. "Kings Man. Hero. Good morning." She turned to the demon in their midst and, instead of a simple nod, placed one leg behind the other, threw out her arm, bent at the knees, and gave a deep sweeping bow. "And good morning to you, your majesty."

@bkburke@jensoman@Cherrywitch

[Assistant]
Malakaus awoke that morning in the dingy inn he was staying at. For thirteen coppers he got a closet with a lock on it, which was really all he could afford. Bullets weren't cheap to make, and unfortunately he couldn't trade in lead. Still, he at least got some rest without anything being stolen from him.

After leaving the cheap inn, the half-orc took out his invitation. Supposedly, he needs to go here and meet with the one who would give him the quest to help the king. Why they didn't do this afford a more public junction like the castle was beyond Malakaus. At least he knew where he needed to go. He would have been inside the city yesterday, but a back run in with some goblins and rough weather delayed the caravan he was traveling with, and the guards wouldn't let them in after nighttime.

Gearing up, Malakaus finished off his ensemble with a large dusty cloak. Once a intimidating black, now more of a faded brown due to all the wear and tear to it. Still it had a certain ruggedness to it that, while not quite as impressive as sheer black, at least gave it the impression that it has seen many roads. Even if the truth was far more simpler; Malakaus just neglected to wash or mend it. As he left the inn, he noticed an odd sight near a tree. A lone elf, but no normal elf; she was blue skinned. At first Malakaus thought she was a drow, but he quickly rationalized that would be HIGHLY unlikely. Just about as unlikely as a free roaming orc. At least as a half-orc Malakaus only has to worry about the occasional bouts of racism, instead of overt hostility. No, this elf wasn't bother to disguise herself, from either bigots or the rising sun, so she couldn't be a drow. So what was she? Malakaus intended to find out.

"Greetings. Did the guards tell you to turn around too?" Malakaus approached, most of his body and equipment hidden underneath his dusty cloak. While he had a high collar, he had no hood, making his orcish features plain to see. Green skin, prominent tusks, pointed ears. He gave the elf a toothy smile and bowed his head. "Name's Malakaus. What's yours, stranger?"

Maximus

[User]
Watching the sun slowly rising from the horizon, Illistrianna was entranced in some way. This was one of her favourite time of the day. This natural beauty was something to behold, she always thought. Just as the moon lights up the sky at night and offers its benevolent light to those who can't unravel the secrets in the dark, the sun gave brushes away the darkness and gives life to all. Rare were the times she actually was awake during the day to witness the sun in its fullest glory. She only recently had the opportunity to do so as she had left the village.

However, a strange sight broke her trance. There was a gathering on a nearby hill. Normally she'd make out well what kind of people they were with her enhanced elven sight, but the early rising sun's glare blinded her when she tried to look over the mound of earth. She wondered what these people could be doing at this time of the morning. Despite having good hearing, she couldn't listen to what was being said, their spoken words sounding like the lowest of whispers. They are not only a bit too far for her to listen, but also a few levels above her as well.

As she finished eating her apple while watching more and more people gathering on the hill, the elven maiden was taken by surprise. A low-pitched male voice came from beside her of a sudden. In her surprise, her back jerked straight, too suddenly. The back of her head hit the bark of the tree she was sitting against, making a thudding noise.

"Ow ow ow ow ow!" the priestess repeated, face cringing and teeth clenching.

Her face turned to the source of the voice that took her by surprise. It was a large man; a high-collared black rugged cloak turned brown from dust and dirt accumulated from travels that covered most of his body, as if to protect him from the weather's condition. However, she could make out a bit of his head, mostly the upper part, or rather mostly his black hairm from her sitting point of view. It was when he bowed his head after asking her name that she could make out his facial features. Tusks, green skin and pointy ears. No doubt about it, he was an Orc!

Recovering from the pain subsiding, she couldn't help but giggle at this silly scenario. She had never met Malakaus' kin before, but she had heard plenty of stories about them from her village. She never thought her first meeting with one would surprise her as such with their legendary straight-forwardness.

"I-I'm sorry sir, you surprised me!" She said nervously, quickly getting up on her feet to greet the orcish stranger. "I am Illistrianna Alderine, from Sylvyst. It is a pleasure to meet you!" She said, bowing politely with modesty. "Indeed. I do not know why they aren't letting anyone pass at night, but I guess they have their reasons, as frustrating as it is." Illistrianna replied, apparently a bit upset as she was reminded of that fact.

"Although it's not much of a problem. At least I get to watch this beautiful scenery unfolding before our eyes. Have you come to watch the sunset as well, Mr. Malakaus?" She said, with a soft smile of her own.

Cypher

[Assistant]
The half-orc smirked seeing the strange elf bang her head against the tree trunk. She must have been really distracted or an airhead to be surprised by his appearance; he wasn't exactly trying to sneak up on her. After recovering from her surprise the elf introduced herself as Illistrianna Alderine from Sylvyst. Certainly an elvish name. Sure enough she was told to turn around too, unaware that Illistrianna had just arrived to the city not too long ago. "Eh. Guards, ya know. Da law is is stiff like dat, and dey use da law like a club."

Malakaus cleared his throat. He nearly revealed his accent to her; he was quite aware that his accent was rather… Crude and unintelligent. He couldn't help it; that's just how people spoke around his village. He's been slowly improving, though it's an active effort. Quickly ignoring his gaff Malakaus focused on the rising sun. Illistrianna was impressed, though Malakaus wasn't so sentimental. Sunrises were nice, but nothing that really excited him. Only time he felt happy to see it was when he had to stay up a whole night watching the camp for undead. The sun meant the night was over and he could finally get some sleep.

Still, there was potential to make the best of this situation. While Malakaus was going to bluntly state his apathy towards the sunrise, he knew that someone like Illistrianna would probably be disappointed. She was an elf after all. However, Malakaus also wasn't going to pretend he actually cared, since lying would be worse than the truth. So instead, Malakaus would use this opportunity to help cover his accidental reveal about his accent. Clearing his throat once more, Malakaus spoke clearly. "I can see the sunrise everyday. But the beauty before my eyes is something I may only see once in a blue moon." He said while looking at Illistrianna.

Maximus

[User] Astiroth was ready to listen to the repsonse of Polaris and Jenso when another figure entered the group. The woman was a witch that addressed herself as Selene. She looked.... really, really little. Astiroth refrained from releasing any grin. The woman's stance, accompanied by her voice and height made for a rather hilarious introduction. Astiroth kneeled down infront of her. His yellow eyes focusing on Selene. He opened his mouth to speak revealing rows of sharp teeth when another individual approached. Astiroth stood up tall. He watched as Josephine has a small talk with one member that Astiroth had not known. Nothing Astiroth considered strange until she turned to him and gave a bow. Astiroth proceeded with a gentleman's bow in response. "Thank you. Formal greetings are not necessary." Astiroth paused for a moment. "Not to seem like the high quality individual that cares of specifics. We demons do not use the term majesty. Lord is the proper term. My name is Astiroth. I'm not sure if anyone was informed that a demon would accompany any of you but if so, it's true."


[System]
Age: 17
Race: Bugbear
Class: Barbarian
Level: 2
Background: Folk Hero
Personality: See persona section of the linked character sheet.

Backstory: In the middle of a grassy field stands a large rock. This rock is known to the locals as the Snoring Stone, a name it gained after people began to hear loud snoring with no discernible source when passing the rock sometimes. People were unsure of what to make of this weird phenomenon until someone made too much noise near the rock and the snoring turned to angry yelling. After that, people became convinced that a spirit had made its home in the rock and began leaving it offerings of food, drink, gold, and other kinds of gifts, hoping that this appeasement would calm the spirit and dissuade it from following through on the threats it had made to those who disturbed its slumber. These offerings pleased the spirit enough that it forgave the disturbance, on the condition that the offerings continued.

With the arrangement made, things returned to normal for a time. The Spirit Of The Snoring Stone rested peacefully in its rocky home and the locals regularly brought it offerings to keep it that way. Eventually, a brave and desperate carpenter decided to wake the Spirit again. Before the Spirit could begin angrily making threats though, the carpenter begged the Spirit's help with a problem no one else could help him with. Upon learning that the carpenter had brought a much grander offering that usual to convince it to help, the Spirit eagerly agreed. The very next morning, the carpenter awoke to find the solution to his problems awaiting him on his dining table. Overjoyed by the end of his woes, the carpenter told others of what had happened.

After that, many other locals came to petition the Spirit Of The Snoring Stone for its aid. A shepherd who had lost some of his sheep would find them tied to a post the morning after visiting the Stone. A fisherman whose usual spot had dried up found a map to a pond full of much tastier fish nailed to his door after asking the Spirit for help. And when an angry mob asked for help in tracking down a murderer, they found the murderer's corpse an hour later, clubbed to death and beheaded.

One day, a farmer arrived at the Snoring Stone out of breath and in a state of panic. His house had caught fire, no one could put it out, and his family was trapped inside. He offered everything he had in exchange for his family's safety. "Go 'ome an' wait." The Spirit said. "I'll do the rest." And so the farmer hurried home to where his wife, children, and elderly parents were still trapped and prayed to the Gods as he waited for the Spirit to come. Suddenly, the door burst open and the farmer's parents rushed from the house just before the fire blocked the way. Then, each window in the house smashed open, allowing one of the farmer's children to climb out of each one before the flames blocked those exits too. With no way out left, the farmer, his family, and the assembled crowd watched the burning house as they wondered how the spirit would rescue the farmer's wife. Their answer came when one of the house's walls gave way and the farmer's wife emerged from the hole... cradled in the arms of an enormous bugbear.

The bugbear, who went by the name of Brutrumukk, revealed himself to be the so called Spirit Of The Snoring Stone, having played along with their beliefs to sponge off the offerings the locals had brought to the Snoring Stone, which he explained had a hollow interior and a secret entrance. Remembering all that the 'Spirit' had done for them, the locals refrained from driving the hulking goblinoid away and decided to let their current arrangement stand due to how helpful Brutrumukk had proven himself, even if the black-hearted bugbear had only helped for personal gain.

A year after settling in the Snoring Stone, Brutrumukk was rudely awoken one day by the sound of a certain multiversal carnival being set up right next to his home.

Stat Generation: Point Buy

Day Count: 2 (349)
Kill Count: 1
Most Kills in a Dungeon: 1
Most Kills in an Encounter: 1
Most Kills in a Round: 1

[User]
Chapter 1

Welcome to the Witchlight Carnival!

The Ticket Booth

The first stars of night twinkle above the apricot sunset. Giant dragonflies whir overhead, trailing streamers, and a low mist curls over the ground. Through a floral archway, you glimpse wondrous and vibrant creatures—elf stilt walkers, dancing faeries, and painted performers. Everywhere there is laughter, pixie dust, bubbles, and the wistful tune of a whistling calliope.

Almost all of you gaze upon this sight, and the memories of your previous visit seem to become much more vivid than they were before. For the bugbear resident, the calliope and laughter has certainly drawn him here from his rock home.

By chance or by fate, all of you stand before the entrance to the Carnival together, reunited by similar causes. Five of them remember the Carnival Owners' words...

"Silly little screeching cricket...
You forgot to buy a ticket!"

"The Carnival goes round and round,
The Multiverse is our Playground. Nothing's free and nothing's lost. Every visit has its cost."

With that thought in mind, they see the Ticket Booth by the entrance. There, the party sees a wrinkled old goblin running that booth. He finishes helping a customer pay for their ticket and calls to them, as though he were deaf, "Thank you! Enjoy your time in the Witchlight Carnival!"

[Assistant]
Brutrumukk

Brutrumukk hated everything about what was happening right now. The music. The laughter. The noise. He hated it all with every fibre of his being. Ever since the Witchlight Carnival had arrived in the field and set up shop right next to the Snoring Stone, Brutrumukk's usual peace and quiet had been shattered. Yelling at them to go away had proven fruitless. Threatening to rip off their heads and shit down their necks only made them say he wasn't allowed in the carnival, as if he even wanted to go to their stupid carnival! And since there were so many carnies, simply killing them all wasn't an option. And so all the angry bugbear could do was lean against his rock and glare at the carnival as he prayed to Hruggek and Grankhul for the chance to take revenge on those who had torn away the usual serenity and solitude of his grassy field and his hollowed stoney home.

[User]
G A B R I E L

Gabriel absent-mindedly played with the basket hilt of the old rapier at his side watching passerby with vague interest, specifically keeping an eye on the grumbling bugbear leaning aways off against an old moss-covered rock 'He could be trouble.' the swordsman thought scratching his goatee with a free hand 'Then again so can anyone.' the man's gaze fell upon the others lined up to pay the ticket...

* CONTINUED IN COLLAB *

[Assistant]
A small figure stood by the floral entrance to the carnival, bundled in a mixture of fine silk and old rags that hid every part of him save his oversized ears and the beady, reddish-orange eyes that seemed to glow slightly beneath his hood. While he was just another visitor to the Witchlight, he had set himself up beside the ticket booth an hour or so earlier and was attempting to flag down all who attempted to enter. These attempts ranged from simply calling out to them to actively getting into their personal space and shoving a variety of small, cruedly-made trinkets in their line-of-sight.

"Souveniers for sale!" the figure called. "Made by Jub the Peculiar's own two hands! Buy one now, remember visit to Witchlight Carnival forever!"

These attempts had so far been unsuccessful. Most people ignored him and would rush quickly through the archway once they had bought their ticket, or would decide to leave carnival, likely to return at a later point when they hoped he would be gone. Jub had managed to hold out so far, but even his enthusiasm was starting to wane and he had gone from loudly pestering the visitors to sulking as he eyed each one individually. He had been showing particular interest in one of them - a half-elf with a rapier by his side - when his gaze passed over to someone standing a little further afield: a rather grumpy-looking bugbear who was eying the whole carnival with a look of contempt. How long had he been standing there? Jub hadn't noticed him when he had first set up shop, but then again, he had been kind of distracted by all the colours, the smells... the whole catatrophe when he had tried to get Eighteyes to spin a banner out of silk and had ended up scaring away a couple of extremely archnaphobic customers... well, the point was, he wasn't exactly as observant as normal. But, he'd noticed now and was willing to take this lull in the current business to try a somewhat riskier venture.

Now, normally he wouldn't try something like this - especially with such a grumpy-looking fella - but he was a little desperate at this point. Business had been slow for him today... and yesterday... and the day before that... but he was determined to use this carnival as an opportunity to gain a little extra coin. So, stepping away from the ticketbooth, he approached the bugbear as confidentally as he could manage.

"You, sir!" he said, pointing to the bugbear. "You look like a man who could use..." He paused, looking the bugbear up and down as he tried to gage what exactly would interest him. "A good.. err.... erm..."

Nope, he was drawing a blank here. Probably should have workshopped this before approaching the customer.

"Erm..." Jub quickly pulled out his failsafe and showed it to the bugbear. "Shiny brooch? Only one gold piece."

[User]
Brutrumukk

Brutrumukk looked down at the either very brave or very stupid magical looking goblin who had dared to approach him. After regarding the goblin trying to sell him something for a few moments, the bugbear huffed through his nostrils. "Fuck it. Why not?" Brutrumukk said before tossing the goblin a gold piece and pocketing the brooch. After a moment of consideration, Brutrumukk looked down again at the goblin and spoke in their native tongue. "Oi, booyagh. I got a job fer ya. Four gold if you say yes an' four more if you actually do the job." Brutrumukk pointed at the carnival. "See that place? I don't like that place. So I want you to go in there, snoop around, an' see if there's any way to mess everything up. Once you've found a way, come tell me what that way is so that I can go mess it up, an' I'll give ya the rest of the gold. Sound good?"

[Assistant]
Jub took the coin the bugbear had handed him and held it up to his face. He squinted at it for a moment before testing it with his teeth, briefly exposing rows of jagged teeth to any who may be looking closely enough. When he was satisfied, he placed it in his pocket and was about to thank the bugbear for his business when he suddenly spoke again, this time in the goblin tongue. Jub's body immediately stiffened, the glee in his eyes leaving and being replaced with panic.

How had he figured it out? His disguise was flawless! Was it the ears or... maybe his smell? He raised an arm slightly and sniffed at himself self-consciously. Did he smell more goblin-y than usual today? He didn't think so. Then again, he wasn't sure how goblin-y he usually smelled. He was still contemplating this when he noticed the bugbear had stopped talking, and suddenly realized he was probably expecting some kind of response. What had he been saying? Something about... a job... and gold?

Jub hesitated for a moment as he considered how best to respond. He could feign ignorance, pretend he didn't understand and quickly make his way back to the carnival. After all, he'd gotten what he'd come for and had no reason to humor this stranger, especially if it meant sabotaging the carnival. Jub liked the carnival. It was bright, colorful, filled with oddballs with unique costumes... Jub's kind of place!

But at the same time... four plus four gold... plus the gold piece he already had... that was a decent amount of gold, at least more than Jub had made in the last few days, and he wasn't sure how long it would be before business was ever that good for him again. He looked the bugbear up and down for a moment, weighing up in his options.

Jub gave the bugbear a double thumbs up. "You, my good sir, have a deal!" he responded in goblin.

[User] A wide, predatory grin of anticipation stretched itself across Brutrumukk's face. His prayers had been answered. Soon he would have his opportunity for revenge. Those carnies would rue the day they crossed the Spirit Of The Snoring Stone. "Perfect." Brutrumukk said as he handed the goblin his down payment. "I'll be leanin' against this rock fer most o' the night. Wait fer me 'ere once you've got somethin' I can use. 'An don't try to cheat me, booyagh. Elsewise there'll be no magic in the world that'll be able to save you from me."


[System]
Etzer Kirtzao

Character Summary
Aliases: Drake Fang, White Scale, Ezra Pierce
Titles: The Bold Rider, Lancer of Truth, Boundary Piercer, Master of Winter, King of Beasts
Age: 32
Place of Origin: The Jaggerjack Mountains
Kingdom: The Rose Dominion
Gender:  Male
Time of Death: 7000 years ago.

Physical Attributes
Eyes: Slate grey, piercing like a rapier's tip.
Hair: Messy, dirty blond. It often appears windswept and unkempt.
Day To Day Attire: Heavy shirts and long winter robes made of thick animal pelts and hides. Dark clothing with maybe a flash of silver or trophies made from his hunts like teeth or scales often make their way into his accessorizing.
Strengths: Determination, perserverance, honesty, dauntless, loves learning new things
Weaknesses: headstrong, gullible, stubborn, arrogant, awful at taking care of himself

Psychological Attributes
Fearless * Optimistic * Selfless * Empathic

Sexuality: Gay
Relationship Status: Single
Personality:
 While quite reckless in his youth, Etzer's rebellious spirit grew into that of the hardened hero that lead to the end of an oppressive empire. Etzer rarely takes no for an answer and refuses to believe that you're out of options until he can't lift his weapon any further. That being said, he's always valued the strength of his companions and has never thought that working alone would lead to success. Contrary to some of his habits, he has a love for wildlife and the wild spirit of youth and has deep respect for both, especially when he can watch someone grow beyond the limits of their fears.

 His strongest flaw has always been the mistakes he makes to put out his own neck to save those he cares about. He often forgets about important things related to his health because there are many things in this world that are significantly more important. It would be difficult to assume he has a low opinion of himself based on his arrogant behaviour, yet his own well being always seems to be an afterthought. He was never comfortable watching someone die in battle especially if they didn't believe in it, but he was always willing to take the hit regardless of how central he was to the task at hand.
Skills
A listing of skills, such as horseback riding or cooking. Levels include novice (0.5 pt), apprentice (1 pt), journeyman (2 pt), expert (3 pt), master (4 pt), grand master (5 pt). Each character can spend 21 points & only two skills can be mastered and one grand mastered. If your character knows magic, it counts as a skill.

* Monster Tamer (Grandmaster): Etzer's greatest achievement was befriending his drake mount, Vakir, but he only gained the creature's attention by the training and education he underwent to gain an uncanny ability to befriend monsters. It was a trick of magic, of sorts, but most of it came from learning about the creatures and their behaviour. The drake claimed he had a heart like theirs: thirsty for victory, but Etzer was the only one the being would call his friend and the only warrior he would carry into battle, though many creatures were won over by this skill.
* Cavalier (Master): Starting with horses like all boys do; Etzer could supplement his skill at taming beasts with his skill at riding them. He was seen as quite the accomplished rider in his time, and knew how to adapt his skill towards any beast.
* Lancefighting (Master): Though he much preferred fighting on the back of something else, Etzer could hold his own in a battle with a polearm. His trusty spear was something he held in great regard and is what left his tale as one of a hero instead of one of a tragedy.
* Martial Weapons (Expert): He may have been a master when it came to the lance, he was sufficiently skilled in a number of other weapons ranging from other polearms to swords to axes. Though he usually only kept an extra weapon or two on him in case of emergencies, his capability with most weapons was more than enough to hold his own.
* Tactics (Expert): His father was an accomplished general, and despite how he hated it Etzer was schooled in military tactics from a young age. While he much preferred to rush into the front lines from the sky, he could provide sufficient input to tactical skills to at least analyze threats and general risk.
* Druidic Magic (Journeymen): While he only really used this skill to give him a bit of an edge when it came to understanding dangerous creatures, he was mostly mediocre at all other aspects of it. Vakir teased him often for his shameful spellcraft and it mostly became a parlour trick with some gusts of wind. He preferred to leave that skill to those with their feet on The World. He preferred to soar above it.

Magic
A listing of favorite or unique spells, if any. Maximum of four.
* Oath of the Beast: A druidic promise he could use to place himself into the mindset of the beasts he encountered. This allowed for him to understand the creature with which he was making contact, and convince them to join his side if possible. While this spell does not guarantee that they will listen, it was often the only way to be understood and demonstrate he could understand the other creature. Naturally, this was more useful on less-intelligent creatures, and it has no effect on humans, but this became a simple promise he made to The World to allow him to make contact with these other creatures. This magic would only work on one creature at a time and causes Etzer to react somewhat ferally to those that try to snap him out of the spell.

Artifacts
A listing of acquired artifacts. Maximum of three.
* Feather Fall Boots: Enchanted for him by his druid mentor deep in the woods, these iron boots have images of wings emblazoned on their sides, and when the heels tap together the wing images shine with white light. While active, he can control the speed of his descent from no matter what height. The boots have been with him a long time, their secondary enchantment allowing for their size to grow with his feet.
* Amulet of Dragonspeech: Entrusted to him by Vakir, his trusted companion, this amulet allowed for him to be in constant communication with his drake companion for miles via a telepathic link. Its crafted from Vakir's white scales formed into a tiny shield that's held by a chain around his neck. When Vakir speaks, it flashes white.
* Spear of Returning:  The spear appeared at his side when it was announced that his father was to be executed for treason. Whenever thrown at something from a distance, he needs only call its name (Selene's Rose) and it returns to his side. It was named after his grandmother and has pink rose petals decorating the silver, weighted tip of the lance with a pink ribbon tied down from the shaft that has not disintegrated in years.

[User]
The woman lets the group gather their senses as several of them ask the obvious question - but that was something to be expected. Others stir in silence and offer aid to one another as they all try to make sense of their sudden revival. Some of them are more upset than others, but overall she approved of the group's ability to adapt to the situation. Finally, she turned, sword's hilt cupped in one hand as she seemed to address the group as a whole. "The Pale Lady expects us to be heroes, as we've been referred to throughout the ages," she starts. "No matter any ill-will that had been caused by us in our lives, she selected everyone for their hearts - the ability to answer the call to set aside everything for what was right during our times." Ravness glances to the village and sighs, almost at a loss like everyone else. "However, we do not know what sort of opponent we face just yet... a strange thing, indeed, to drain the life from the World in such a manner. Not even the greatest Liches are capable of these sorts of feats." Taking a deeper breathe as to finally answer the burning question, "though indeed I know our next step. We are meant to march down this mountain into the plains. There, we will encounter something that is meant for us." In truth, she could only lead this band as far as the Light told her, but she knew the Lady was to be trusted.

Glancing to Mortimer, she quietly decides to let the past life rival answer the question himself. Soon they would all realize that their time had long past. The woman pauses and gives a small curtsy, blade still balanced in her off-hand. "However for now, my name is Ravness Beoulve. I would ask that everyone introduce themselves, as we are on this quest together." The paladin had absolutely no idea how far or wide her legend are truly gone in her time past, only that she had accepted the title of Queen's Guard, avatar to the Pale Lady, and died protecting others at the hand of one of the most powerful Liches to exist since.

[Assistant]
---

How curious.

Blue eyes had fluttered open, revealing an unfamiliar surrounding. Slowly getting to her feet, Fiametta dusted her dress off some, though her curiosity got the better of her as she looked around. Where was this? Her memory failed to tell her where she was or how she got there. No, that wasn't entirely true, there was this light...but beyond that she had either forgotten or couldn't quite grasp an understanding of what had happened. She did remember her father's spear being driven through her chest, and her hands flew up to the spot in response. No hole, no blood, she seemed fine. Well, not fine, there were eerie magics at work, things beyond her understanding and knowledge. This place seemed disconnected from the one she was used to, though she figured standing around wasn't going to do much for her. Did she accidentally burn the village down? No, she would've remembered. Maybe. Hopefully.

Not too far away was a group of people she did not recognize. She approached them rather cautiously, although the paladin with hair as red as her dress looked familiar somehow. As she spoke and introduced herself, the name definitely rang a bell. "Of Igros?" She found herself asking. "My husband knows of you. I am Fiametta Teralyn of Vertouhi."

[User]
 Etzer was hoping that he'd be able to recognize something around the landscape, but everything was too different. He tried to look at the buildings barely standing and some others that were only husks of what they used to be, but the structure was beyond his comprehension. In fact, even looking around at some of the styles flying around, these people were beyond what he was expecting. How long had he been dead, anyway? The only small comfort he picked up was the approach of the small badger that seemed to trudge down the dirt and snow. He couldn't help the smile it brought to his face, even as he traced its footsteps back to the woman in the earth-tone clothes.

 There was something about her that seemed familiar to him, though he was certain he'd never seen her before. The other figure that now clicked to him was that of Ravness. The great paladin had been a symbol of hope, and a hopeful story for the struggling force back in the days of the rebellion. He remembered even Vakir had some stories about her legend. And if she was pushing them in one direction, Etzer would not be one to object.

 With a twirl of his spear, he let out a puff of cold air into the sky and watched his breath in the cold, "Right, well. I'm Etzer Kirtzao, Wanderer. I'm one mount short right now, but if we want to head down the mountain, I suggest we figure out how to leave this place before whatever did this," he gestured to the black scarred buildings around the area, "comes back to deal with this force of… whatever the Hell we are."

 Etzer was already looking for a distraction as his one hand kept a palm on the white scales around his neck. The sign of other wildlife in the form of this determined badger reassured him that there was a possibility of finding him. Vakir wasn't here, which meant he might've been somewhere else. However, he felt exposed. Unlike everyone else – the lack of the drake's cold blood felt like he was missing a shield, or walking into a battle alone. His whole body was tense like a bowstring. The Pale Lady was beyond his wheelhouse. Hell, standing again in the world of the living was more than his comprehension of how this stuff works. Then again, his knowledge for this kind of thing had never been the best.

 Not a lot of time to explain the Light and the Darkness in a world of wild nature and constructed war.

 "I'm not the biggest fan of leaving the mountains behind, but I'm not one to argue with some divine entity, nor her champion," he sighed, bouncing on his feet in an attempt to relieve some of his tension, "so, once everyone's adjusted we should get going!"


[System]
---

---

Age: 26

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Job: Boatswain

---

Personality: Nathaniel is a walking contradiction. He is a very lazy man and will most of the time delegate a task to one of his many undead, unless it needs someone with vocal chords that is. However, there are sometimes where the young man gets more motivated than ever before and performs his task with more energy than ever before, only to go rest a moment later from the excitement.

The one consistent trait that Nathaniel has is his love for reading, whether it is a romantic novel, a book detailing magic, or just the ships logs, you'll always find a book in his hands.

History

Nathaniel Obregon was born as the older of a pair of twins to the Obregon family. A family of necromantic mages and proud owners of their own small sloop. Rather than having long voyages with this ship, his parents used it ferry people through to the various islands of the small archipelago that they called home, earning a fairly tidy profit, especially since most of the crew of the ship were undead and didn't exactly require any payment.

Despite having yet to finish his training in necromancy, the usually lazy Nathaniel showed interest in reading and learning more about geomancy, a branch of magic that was almost useless considering there was little actual land to control right now. His parents, after more than year, just gave in and hired a talented wandering mage to train him in this almost lost magic art at quite the price.

As the years passed, things actually started to get worse for Nathaniel. His younger twin brother would leave home in order to learn his own secondary kind of magic, a magic perhaps as, or even rarer than earth magic in this world, fire magic. Also, thanks to the fact that he now had to shift attentions between improving his necromantic skills and his geomantic skills, both suffered as a result.

To add to that, soon, his parent's luck also ran out and they were accosted by a large elven pirate ship. Neither his parents or the people they were ferrying came out of that engagement alive. And in one swift stroke, Nathaniel was left both without parents and destitute. Oddly enough, the only thing left in his possession was the mostly undamaged sloop filled with the dead bodies of his parents and people they were supposed to be burying.

After burning the bodies of his parents so that no other necromancer would use their bodies, he decided to follow in the family business and ferry people through the islands. Shortly afterwards, his brother Ernest returned and though he was quite a bit different than he was before, the two restarted their parents company.

However, only after a short time at this job, the two were approached by a captain who asked the two to join their their crew. Though he was a bit reluctant to do so, he eventually sold their parents sloop and joined this new captain, quickly rising to become the quartermaster of the ship, despite his inherent laziness.

---

Weapons

* Pistols: Two pistols rest on the front holsters of the young man. Other than their somewhat more fancy look, these are about as strong as most pistols are.
* Throwing Daggers: Pistols take time to reload, as such Nathaniel has trained himself to be fairly good at throwing daggers at his foes and though they don't have the same range as a gun, their "rate of fire" is much, much greater.

Magic

* Necromancy(Master): Nathaniel's parents were quite talented necromancers that wished for their sons to learn their trade as well. As such, Nathaniel learned to become a quite the skilled necromancer, able to control around two dozen regular undead(i.e zombies and skeletons) at the same time. While that would not be his limit, anymore than that would put a strain on his body and his mind and restrict his focus to only controlling said undead.
* Geomancy(Intermediate): A rather unusual and very rare choice of magic in this world considering there's precious little actual earth for him to manipulate, however, he was fascinated with this type of magic and actually had his parents hire one of the few mages that was actually experienced in this kind of magic. He learned it to a good degree, but had to quit the lessons after his parent's death left him with nothing but a small ship to his and his brother's name. Nowadays, he simply looks for books that

Other: Though it isn't any stronger than his other undead, Nathaniel has an old undead captain walking at all times by side as his personal bodyguard. He holds some personal value to it as it is the first human undead he ever raised.

[User]
Chapter 1: Strange tidings, bloody omens

of Thoth@Rekaigan@Claw2k11@Bluetommy@Naw

"Captain! Vessel to starboard!" The shout came down from the crows nest, an eagle eyed youth shy of 20 years old manning the high platform atop the ships mast. Armed with a cutlass and a parascope they had proven more than adept enough at spotting even the smallest ships at great distances.

On the quarter-deck, Delilah Laxen stood stiff backed in finery with her polished dwarven rapier in easy reach. Far from being a decorative weapon to suit her station, the weapon on her person had seen more than its share of fighting in her time with it in the last year aboard the Great Aquarius. A salvage crew primarily, the company of men and women serving under her had taken a special place in the greater townships ongoing struggles against privateers. Now that they had been contracted and provisioned by the Dwarven craftsmen at Karaz Kharagul they were easily one of the top fighting ships sailing the 'Shallows' as it was referred to.
The clear blue waters known as the Shallows was likely an ironic naming that had stuck, sections reaching as far as 50 miles near as anyone could tell before hitting the seabed and other places reaching further still. The red sea, so named for its hostile denizens, was nearly its equal in terms of depths and size. Only the black sea to the south was larger on a scale none had ever charted, its waters inhabited by twisted monstrosities above and below the waves. Orc pirates, goblins, the sharkmen, sea drakes, Cerulean Crabs with claws big as a schooner was tall, to say nothing of the deep dwellers.

The most valuable treasures lay at the bottom of the black sea but nobody sane of mind ventured out that way. Death was a far more likely reward than the riches laying at its depths.

Signaling the crows nest to continue watching, Delilah gave instructions to the helmsman to give chase before making her way to the railings where the crew toiled.

"To your stations! Lock down cargo, seal off the lower portholes. I want us at full sail with every crew member armed and ready for a fight. Remember your orders. Archers, ballista team, wait for confirmation of hostile intent from the enemy crew or until I give you the signal. Boarder teams you have my permission to cross at the first sign of hostility. Go!"

Not waiting for the 'yes captain' that accompanied her instructions, Delilah stood with hands on hips near the wheel staring at the blip in the distance. Maybe an hours sailing with favorable winds, two without. From a distance it looked like their target was limping in the waters. Not a good sign.

[Assistant]
Cooper Castons

Cooper had headed into the bowels of the ship to do as the captain ordered. Odd jobs were his specialty, and so securing the cargo was his first priority. In the heat of battle, he would be flitting about much the same, making sure this enormous tub didn't spring a leak, or if it did, that said leak would be plugged in a short space of time. He would give a good ol' thump on the head with his hammer to whomever it was necessary, but smacking humanoid skulls didn't have the same appeal as hammering a good piece of wood into place. There was always that sickening crunching noise with bones, not like that satisfying thunk that you got with a plank. Still, duties were duties, and everyone had to fight if it came to it.

"Golly golly, I hope we take it intact..." Cooper muttered as he busied himself with tying a crate down. "Who knows what kind of wood it's made out of? Oak? Pine? Larch? Cedar? Oh, it'll be a treat to find out..." It was typical of the times not to waste wood, but battles were battles, and there was the possibility they'd sink the other vessel without ever touching the bounty it was made of. But if luck would have it, they'd take the ship for themselves, and then Cooper could get a close look at the craftsmanship done on it. He certainly hoped to lay his eyes upon a real work of art, and not some rotten, cheaply made, sailing barrel.

[User] Pretend this doesn't exist

[Assistant]
"Aye, aye, captain." Nathaniel said lazily moving away from the railing of the ship upon he had been just resting and reading from one of the books that were to teach him more about geomancy. His lackadaisical attitude towards most things and the fact that he was still reading from his book made it seem it seem as if he barely even paid attention to what his captain had just said. The nonchalance was certainly not helping his cause at all, making him seem all the more incompetent.

However, the moment those three words escaped from his mouth, more than two dozen of the crew members of the ship started moving with quite a bit more alarm than before. These crewmen, covered from head to toe in various amounts of cloth, save the eyes, were the undead under his own command, covered so that the sight of so many zombies and skeletons did not unnerve the living members of the crew, especially when they were to eat.

While a few of his undead moved below deck to check on their remaining supplies, most of the other picked up their cutlasses, pistols and muskets and moved to the starboard to be prepared to repel any pirates dumb enough to board them or in turn to board the ship that was coming for them. After spending a few more moments to read from the book, Nathaniel placed the large leatherbound tome inside his pouch and drew both of his pistols, ready to shoot anyone who dared to face him and this crew, his menacing looking undead bodyguard captain looming right behind the young man.

"More bodies for me..." He eventually muttered as he waited for the action to start.


[System]
Nicknames/Aliases:
Never one for fancy nicknames, he just lets people call him Ray.

Age:
38

Gender:
Male

Position:
Professor.

Primary:
Necromancy

Secondary:
Blood Magic and Toxin Production.

Description:
Ray has certainly brought his dress code up since his...old life. He still enjoys muted tones, but his collection of coats with the elbow patches
and plain slacks and dress boots make him look somewhat more mature than his sense of humour would suggest. His black hair is kept short and neatly
pomaded back, and he doesn't let his beard go beyond the rough stubble phase anymore. He cuts an average figure, standing at even six feet tall.
He looks like just another guy.

Personality:
Ray has something of a dry sense of humour, interspersed with a penchant for well-timed quips. Often times he uses sarcasm
or self-deprecation to steer somebody away from the subject of his past. Otherwise, he's a devoted teacher and takes his
lessons very seriously.

Skills:
He has an intimate knowledge of Necromancy and Blood Magic, owing to a tragic, criminal past. He gained his knowledge of Toxin Production during the war, providing a valuable boon to the Council's forces.
During his time in the war, he became an accomplished swordsman, with a preference towards one-handed, single edged blades. He still has the Sabre he was given when he passed basic training, though it hasn't been used in so long it's enchantment has mostly worn away.

Weaknesses:
His past, definitely. Although it would seem to be behind him, and he outwardly appears to have made peace with it, the guilt still lingers. Anyone with enough knowledge of it could manipulate his emotions to their own will with the right finesse.

Brief History:
Ray was once a promising young student of Magic. He excelled in Necromancy, despite lacking the stereotypical demeanor of Necromancers. He was a voracious learner, and whatever time not spent with his girlfriend Kyra, was spent with his nose in books. He eventually came to chance upon a recruitment agent for the Doomsday Cult and master of Blood Magic named Mathias Delancourt who saw potential in Ray's eagerness and naivete. He took the boy under his wing, acting as something of a tutor. All the while he was taking control of Ray's mind,
diverting him to the world of Blood Magic. It all culminated one stormy night at Ray's official initiation into the cult, wherein he plunged a dagger into the heart of an innocent man. His punishment was severe. Mathias was executed, Ray was not. The next decade of his life made him wish he had been. Ray had murdered an innocent man for the Doomsday Cult, and thus deserved to be tried and punished. However, the Council was embroiled in war with that very cult, and could not afford to execute an able Wizard. Ray was drafted into service under the Council to fight their war. Kyra had joined voluntarily, after tearfully leaving Ray a year earlier when it became apparent who he had been getting involved with. The war took her, and Ray was shattered. The love of his life died hating him, and he had never been able to let that go. Upon completion of his service, his record was cleared and he was let go a free man. His employment options basically non-existent, he took up the councils offer to put his unfortunate knowledge of Black Magic to some good use and make sure the next generation of Wizards and Witches did not stray down the same tragic path he did.
Thus his unexpected tenure at Marchand, a place he could do well and be closely monitored. Nobody really knows his past exactly, only that he fought in the war and that his drafting was anything but orthodox, but the rumours spread around the faculty and alumni.
He does his best to ignore or deflect them.

[User]
Mariana checked her phone one final time for a reply before tucking it into the pocket of her sweater.

"It's good to know you've both kept busy," she said, quite aware of the lack of specificity either of them had offered in the subject. "Though I'm guessing it would be a stretch to say that 'keeping busy' and 'keeping out of trouble' overlap much." There was a fondness in her voice as she said this; not a sense of victory that her life had been more smooth, but rather some assurance in the sense that she still knew something about them.

Some things were simply how they were.

And Montana, for all of his quizzical posturing, had always been one of those things to her. Easy to read. Easy to predict.

He was likely doing whatever thing one would least guess him to be.

"It's all quite the coincidence, though, isn't it? No matter what we've all gotten up to, we're all here now. Teachers." She looked at both of them with a raised eyebrow for a moment, her train of thought derailed by Montana's final comment.

"Maybe a bit overdue," she said, and was very glad that Ray was there to prevent anything further on the subject. "Almost as overdue as my arrival here, really. I haven't the foggiest idea where anything is."

[Assistant]
"Clearly you don;t know much about mage families huh." Dinah responded to Yoko's remark, rolling her eyes.
There was no telling some people, and she lacked the patience or the interest to attempt to explain it.

She then turned her attentions to Larke. He was, at least, relatively sociable, which made things easier...even if their conversation hadn't even really gotten past the pleasantries when he found he had something else to do.
"It's cool, Sterling. You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to." Dinah responded, sinking her hands into her pockets.
"Wouldn't have bothered even showing up if I had a thin skin about it."

Or, possibly in some way she did, as she was taking the fairly sincere attempt on his part as the young Sterling's way of trying to back away from the bloodline dumpster fire that was the Fox daughter without potentially offending her.

"I gotta go drop my bags anyway. If you do actually mean it about looking round, I'll probably be hanging round here in a bit, if not, nice taking to ya, no hard feelings."

She made her way out toward her room, shrugged her backpack off onto the bed, and closed the door.
She did, with any luck, have a little while before whoever her roommate was showed up, so she had a bit of a grace period to hide everything that was contraband before she was found.

Ventilation grille would work pretty well.

[User]
The waxy sheen of cold sweat had spread from Professor Byrne's brow to cover her face and neck by the time she had returned to her own room and slammed the door. She flung her suit jacket down to the floor before slumping her herself, hands shaking as she clawed to unbutton the soaked fabric at her collar.

 "Sonofabitch," she mumbled, leaning her head back against the cool stone of the wall.

The hair tie binding her messy orange locks was the next to be torn away, followed by the remaining buttons of her shirt. Stray strands of hair clung to her face, starkly contrasting against her sickly pallor.

The ribbed fabric of her undershirt had been so thoroughly drenched that the lines of her chest tattoos and the shape of her scars showed though. She fanned the neckline with shaking fingers.

 "Don't bother scolding me," she said, eyes turned up to the ceiling.  "I can handle it, K. It won't happen again."

[Assistant]
I wish I could believe it was coincidence, Mari...I really do.
Ray just smiled, glad to have some friendly, familiar faces here, even if a good fifty percent of the faculty gave him chills.
"Heh, yeah this place can be a bit of a maze. It took me a while to figure it out, but give it time and it will become second nature to you."
It had been a long time since Ray had been able to just fall into easy banter like this, and it did a lot to lift his spirits. Without even realizing it his shoulders slackened, releasing some of that constant tension he carried like a stone. It almost made him forget about what a complete fucking train wreck his life had become.

"I was just heading back to my quarters now, I can help you find yours if you'd like." Ray himself had gotten lost too many times when he first arrived, and eventually learned his way there through trial and error. The one time he had sheepishly asked for directions he made the mistake of asking Maeve. Her stony silence and diamond scowl set the tone for the rest of her and Ray's interaction thus far, and it was something he found hard to forget.

[User]
"I will bother, though I'm not sure why I do at this point."

The slender form of Professor Kovalenko melted out of the shadow of the wardrobe. Her straight hair, neatly buttoned coat, and impassive expression forming an almost complete antithesis of her counterpart.

"We've got an operation to run here Byrne. You need to keep this under control before someone ends up getting hurt."
She reached into the draw on the one side of the room, withdrew a medicine bottle, and dropped it down beside Maeve. The pills in the bottle rattled.

"I don't need to remind you what we've got to worry abou-"

She paused. Oren's gaze flicked over to the door.

Drawn on top of the wood panelling was an intricate symbol of wavy lines, within a circle, punctuated with a line and a smaller circle issuing from it... or rather it would be had a large swipe not been erased, like it had been wiped with a cloth.

Professor K sighed through her teeth and took some brisk steps up to the door. Her coat was unbuttoned, sleeve drawn up, and an obsidian athame drawn from its sheath at her hip, and within moments Oren was painting her blood over the gaps in the ward.

A silence ward.
The ward that was meant for the express purpose of preventing their private conversations being audible to anyone outside in the corridor who happened to listen.

"We're really going to have to do something about the ward problem."

[Assistant]
Tatia was on her way to what she was pretty sure was the girl's dorms when she heard speech from behind a closed door.

 "I can handle it, K. It won't happen again."

Tatia slowed down as she passed, catching hint of the buried urgency in the tones and catching a bad case of curiosity as she did so.

"I will bother, though I'm not sure why I do at this point. We've got an operation to run here Byrne. You need to keep this under control before someone ends up getting hurt."

An operation to run? Interesting choice of words for a schoolteacher. Tatia had come to a full halt by now, and had inched toward the door.

In a brief lull, Tatia thought she could hear something rattle like large beads in a maraca. Tatia couldn't think of many other objects that made that noise. And since none of the professors looked like they moonlighted in a mariachi band, Tatia guessed a pill bottle.

"I don't need to remind you what we've got to worry abou-"

When the voice of Professor Kovalenko cut off, followed by quick footsteps toward the door, Tatia nearly fell over in her haste to assume a casual, just-walking-here retreat down the hallway. Damned idiotic of her to try to eavesdrop on literal actual witches. She half expected the door to bang open behind her and one of the professors to shout her down, but nothing happened and she found her room without incident.

Something, evidently, was up with Professor Byrne. Something that could get people hurt.

Huh.

In case things weren't weird enough.

[User]
The day had passed without much event, in the grand scope of things. Many students, after becoming settled in their dorms, had taken to wandering the grounds at their leisure. Poking into the classrooms, holing themselves in the library- a few had commandeered the pool, enjoying the vast openness of the place while they could. For the most part, the students were left largely to their own devices.

Except, of course, when the occasional handful of students attempted to wander off site. The professors were surprisingly quick to catch stragglers.

After a few hours of this, the overhead speakers suddenly crackled to life with a bright, cheerful jingle. The dinner bell. Regardless if any students hoped to avoid eating, anyone outside the cafeteria would be eventually shepherded there, awaited by a feast that quite easily put brunch to shame.

Roast beef and potatoes stewing in broth, buttered rolls, sauteed mushrooms. It had been made more to leave an impression than anything, it seemed, although one Madison Lovette certainly wasn't complaining. He reclined at his seat at the teacher's table, sipping idly at a mug of hot chocolate as he watched the students buzz about. It had been a good first day, he thought. Certainly not perfect, but still good.

He could only hope that the classes would go just as well.

Madison took another swig, winced as he burned the roof of his mouth, then dabbed his lips clean.

[Assistant]
Ray sat beside Madison, eating in small, contented bites. It was supremely delicious, better than anything he had eaten in about a decade. He didn't think anything could burn away the memory of MRE's, but damn it all if this smorgasbord didn't. His lesson plans were sorted, his curriculum all but memorized and he was now available to catch some small moment of leisure before trying to whip these kids into something closely resembling decent spell casters.
The real trick would be to teach them how to make better decisions than he did. He would teach from the basics of Necromancy and Blood Magic beyond, but place heavy, heavy emphasis on defending against both of them. Blood Magic and Necromancy had gotten into the mess that had been his twenties. No other foolish kid deserved that life.

He leaned back in his chair, taking a short break from his meal, and spoke to Madison.
"It's kinda funny, isn't it? We fought a war once, but I'm quaking more about my first lesson than I was about my first battle."
Of course, back then Ray was hoping his first battle would kill him, and so was the Council. No need to waste time on his execution that way.
Ease up, there Ray ol' boy. This is a nice dinner time chat. Don't get all morbid on things now...
"Who knew this many kids could be so damn scary," he said with a light chuckle."


[System]
The Blacklight Virus himself!
Age: 1 (Yes, really)
Gender: N/A
World of Origin: Prototype
Personality:
Quiet and reserved, "Alex" is still adjusting to find his own personality and not to imitate the countless ones he has consumed. He mostly lets his adoptive sister make decisions for him and is quite protective of her.

Despite his cold looks, "Alex" is pretty gullible, taking people's words for it almost without question. Not a major flaw since he is a night unstoppable killing machine that can usually exact payback if deceived.

History:
After saving Manhattan from a nuclear strike in the events of Prototype 1, Alex has settled with his creator's sister Dana. Despite what had happened and "Alex's" nature, normal life had returned for the Mercer siblings. Since then, "Alex" had stopped consuming other humans since there was no longer need for instant doses of vitality nor need for vital information. Instead, he consumes normal food which can sustain him but leaves him quite far from his fullest potential. Not much of a problem since he had no powerful enemies to fight.

Still, not consuming large amounts of biomass had already disabled "Alex's" Thermal and Infected Visions and also weakened his tendrils, rendering them unable to consume even the basic of living beings. The virus just shrugged at this developments, knowing little that this was the first steps to something he might not like.

Abilities:
Blade - The Blade is a powerful and deadly cutting and thrusting weapon, perfect for slicing and swiping through even the toughest of armor.

Claws - Claws are the most prominent anti-personnel ability. Biomass is shifted into 4-digited, talon-like appendages that can be used to shred flesh and bone.

Hammerfist - Hammerfists are primarily an anti-armor power. By shifting large amounts of biomass towards the hands, large hammer-like weapons are formed. Slow but inflicts really heavy blunt damage.

Whipfist - The Whipfist is a thin, flexible, blade-edged arm that can be used to attack at extreme range, or whip through entire crowds of enemies. Tame your foes from a safe distance.

Musclemass - Musclemass acts as a strength augmentation to Alex Mercer's arms. It greatly increases close combat damage and the distance debris can be thrown to deal with distant enemies.
Armor - The Armor consists black plates of hardened biomass; formed all around the body. While in this form, Alex Mercer is equivalent to a humanoid tank. This ability increases damage resistance overall, at the cost of movement.

Shield - The Shield soaks up damage automatically until it shatters and regenerates automatically. A lesser defensive measure than Armor but allows Alex to move about more freely.

Disguise - This ability allows Alex to "disguise" themselves as the last human target he has consumed. This ability allows him to alter their exterior to resemble the consumed and also gaining their memories. Alex's current disguise is of a U.S. Marine, a soldier he consumed fighting the Supreme Hunter during the Manhattan Outbreak one year ago.

Regeneration - This ability allows Alex to heal wounds and replace flesh. It is a slow process that requires hours if the damage is severe. Consumption of living beings speeds the process but Alex has stopped doing that.

Other:
- This character is a mixed bag of canon and fanon material.

[User]
Tachibana Hibiki, Holding Determination in Her Fist

Hibiki straightened, in time to see the way that insects had spewed from the incapacitated blob creature's body in such great numbers, filling half the room. The boosters on her right arm died down, the handle shifting back into its standard position as she turned entirely to face them. So that thing had managed to send out even more before it collapsed? That didn't matter! They'd taken out a whole bunch of these bugs before, they'd take out the rest and get out of here, wherever here was!

"Miku!" she called, raising both her fists. "Let's break through the rest!"

The music kicked in again. She thrust her fist forward, scattering insects and smashing through several. But this time, it didn't seem like they were giving way so easily!

---

Goldibanne, Face of Innocence(?)

"Aww, did you not like being called wolfy?" Goldibanne questioned, giving a small frown at the huge canine's apparent disappointment. Oh well. She hopped out of the van, and followed along, briefly glancing back to the newcomer before continuing on her way. Ah, what a dour place. It was the sort of location that could really use some serious sprucing up. Some nice furniture, perhaps. That would be lovely.

After they reached the central compound, and the woman introduced herself and explained the situation, the living doll raised her skirt and curtsied with a cheerful smile.

"Goldibanne thinks that's exactly why we're here," she replied, "So of course I'm willing to help~"

She leaned back to glance at the others. "It'd be aaaaaawwwwfully silly if any of you said no when it's so obvious."

The living doll grinned.

---

Saber, King Arthur Herself

"I apologize," Saber said, inclining her head slightly. She hadn't meant to make such a distraction. She had simply realized she had made no proper introduction of herself previously. The blonde girl who was the King of Knights simply proceeded onwards as the group began to move, taking brief notice of the way that Philip seemed to be searching his mind for information. Unfortunately, she was uncertain how much she was able to contribute to this portion of the investigation. She didn't have much experience with solving mysteries.

Even so, the slender girl in armor utilized her skills of observation. Her eyes traveled across their scenery as closely as she could manage, keeping a lookout for anything that seemed unusual in a town of unusual things.

[Assistant]
Kohinata Miku

The strange kidnapping blob was fortunately defeated... and unfortunately released a cloud of yet more bugs, which seemed to be far harder to take down. Her response to being almost directly in the crowd once more was to try and retreat backwards to some clear space, even if this put her by the crazy scientist for a moment, and to keep utilising Shanguang: making up for lack of power in each attack by sheer number. Nothing compared to what many other Symphogear could pull out, but they were bright lights...

... and insects were known to be attracted to bright lights, even in the face of imminent death. It might make the hail of weak beams more useful if the things attacking them were going for the attacks rather than the two girls, that was for sure. Once they were gone, they could get out of this laboratory; it was already starting to unnerve Miku a little.

---

Artorias the Abysswalker

"Indeed, that doth seem like our appointed task," Artorias stated, kneeling in order to not risk headbutting (and thus potentially damaging) anything in this completely human-sized room. To aid in finding the source of this plague would surely fix any such destabilisation in the world--or doubtless lead them towards it. A world-consuming plague could surely not be irrelevant to their appointed journey, no matter how simple it was for them to deal with the dead as they came.

"Doth thou not have some inclination for the refuge of these 'bioterrorists'?"

They seemed to be hiding more than the Abyss had, from her description.

[User]
Hellsalem's Lot- Eyes Wide, Ears Open

Satori nodded as the group proceeded down the streets, the hustle and bustle of the city growing with each passing step. The more they walked, the more distinct the place became. The distribution of humans to non-humans was about 50/50 for the most part, but regardless of how different every being was from one another, nobody really paid it any mind. It was interesting, especially for Satori, who had spent all her life being looked at as an aberration.

"This place certainly is... Interesting, though," she mused, glancing around at the storefronts and buildings around them (which actually seemed to grow taller the farther away they went from the park from which they started). "I've never seen such buildings before... And what could let them reach so high into the sky anyhow?"

Eventually, the group came to an intersection with a little coffee shop that seemed to stand out among the hustle and bustle. A few patrons seemed to be going in and out, but nothing in particular stood out about it. And yet...

Well, to be frank, Satori was a tad parched from all the walking; a drink of some sort would be appreciated.

"Would it be fine if we took a break inside? That place seems to be serving drinks, and we might be able to detail everything out a bit better if we're not moving around as much... Or maybe hear some gossip from the other patrons there."

[Assistant]
Kotoha, Something better to do...

Having recovered from her slight outburst at the two good friends... Well at least it appeared to her that Shotaro and Philip were really good friends... She had worked her way just behind the Satori... who's also called Satori...

Yeah I gotta ask about that at some point... Oh hell might as well socialize with her right now... Guh she probably hears my thoughts anyways...

"They're possible because of improved understanding of the laws of physics and advancements in material and construction technology..."

She replied in answer to Satori's earlier question about modern engineering and the megastructures possible

"Komeiji-san, Uhh I hope you don't mind me calling you by your name, It just doesn't sit right with me calling you by your species you see... And yes I agree, we really should take a break, I don't know about everyone else but Lydia-san did spirit me away from a rather hot place and I haven't had a drink since..."

Guhh... I hope getting spirited away haven't changed anything about my body, would seriously suck... Ahhh... Here I am sidetracking myself again... I'm not gonna hear the end of it if Hime finds out about this... Hmm, I wonder how they're taking my disappearance...

And there goes the question that will haunt her for the day... Why her? She had friends just about as capable if not more capable than she is, so why is she the only one to be spirited away to do such an important task as save the entire freakin universe... Well multiverse... If it's such a problem why not just get literally everyone from everywhere to try and fix it?

[User]
Hellsalem's Lot - Shotaro and Philip

"Ehhh... Basically people just figured out how to build better." Shotaro answered Satori plainly to contrast Kotoha's more complicated sounding answer. Were Philip unoccupied rifting through all the information in his head, he might have answered it even less plainly and with even more complicated sounding words. Instead he merely noted, "Shotaro, did you know? The Statue of Liberty was not originally the green it's known for. It's actually made of copper that rusted away over the decades."

"Oh, I didn't know that actually… Geh!? What're you looking that stuff up for, Philip?! Besides, why the heck would our guys wanna go all the way out to the Statue of Liberty island?!" Shotaro shook his partner as punishment for his off-topic research, but it didn't seem to faze Philip in the slightest.

"It wouldn't hurt to entertain the possibility. Perhaps they've been hiding out there instead of being on the mainland?" Philip shrugged indifferently, but when Satori offered to stop for a small break he opened his eyes back up. "A break sounds good. I see no harm in stopping for a drink. What about you, Shotaro?"

Shotaro inhaled deeply, though he didn't let out a full sigh so it wouldn't look like he was complaining about it. Even if he had his reservations about it, it's not like everyone could/would keep at the same pace as him. Had they really walked that much by now, though? Ah- well, the Kotoha girl had her excuse at least. There was definitely no way he could say no if that's what she was up to until just now. Satori had a point too, they might be able to get some kind of gossip or plan of action out of it. "Alright then, a break can't hurt us," he said with a bit of resignation to his voice. And with that, he and Philip started toward the coffee shop.

[Assistant]
The 13th Hierarchical City of Kagutsuchi - Hanging Gardens
----------------------------------------

On the way towards the brawl, as he sprinted in inhumane speeds and leapt over obstacles, Alex wondered how exactly he and his allies were to deal with these 'distortions' Lydia had them pursue. Were the distortions concrete? Were they objects or people that needed to be destroyed? Or were they situations that needed to be straightened out? Like a relationship gone awry or the opposite. The virus figured he would know once he found it but therein lied the problem, he needed to find it. In this undoubtedly huge world. He realized he was going to need information. Maybe some non-hostile locals can help?

The scenery changed, from modern clockwork to one where plantlife held dominion. Alex saw two individuals in a fight, wielding weapons and wearing clothing that was alien to the virus but he was used to that by now. One was a female in black attire wielding a red blade, a color that matched her hair. She also has a shield that strangely has an eye to it. Her headwear also had an eye on it. The other was a black-haired male who wore a dark cape and wielded a black, large, rectangular sword.

The two fought until the man temporarily blocked the woman with some fallen trees and placing himself in front of Alex.

"Survive." Alex told the man with a commanding tone. "I have questions for you after this."

The virus felt he did not need to activate his Powers as there were multiple of them against the redhead woman. There was also the fact that he might hit his allies with the Powers as they were not exactly designed to fight alongside allies.

Thus, Alex crackled his fists as he prepared to fight the woman with only his natural, superhuman strength.


[System]
Nickname: None.
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Appearance: Tall, about 6"3, African American with a strong jaw and dark brown eyes. Always with five o'clock shadow. Has dreadlocks that come to just below his shoulders, which he intends to cut off once he graduates. Full lips, easy grin, muscular. Usually wears a close fitting black tshirt and jeans, and white Jordans.
Ex: Adelisa Davis
Favourite Color: Grey
Favourite music: Rap, Rock, Indie, Classical. He's into nearly everything but death metal and pop.
Hobbies: Reading, drawing and painting, swimming, hiking, video games.
Animals: Great Dane called Merlin
Personality: Charismatic, good at starting conversation and keeping it going. He makes people feel at ease, and is always up to try new things as long as it doesn't jeopardize his chances of graduating law school and going to work at one of the top law firms in New York. Can be impatient at times.
Car: Doesn't have one. He's saving for one, but most of his money goes into rent and the like. This vacation is probably the only one he'll have for a while.
Major: Is in law school, intends to go into corporate law.
Tattoos: None. No piercings, either.
Other: Is so careful about the impression he gives off because prejudice puts him at the disadvantage, he feels. That's why he doesn't have any tattoos or piercings.

[User]
Grant clapped for Jareth and Delilah along with everyone else, happy that his friend had gotten his girlfriend back. Sure, Delilah was a drama queen, but she made the dumbass happy and he figured that was what mattered anyway. He turned back and headed into the crowd, looking for Adelisa. He hadn't seen her the entire party and was hoping they could talk some more and figure things out. As much as he'd liked the blonde, all he'd thought was how she couldn't compare to Addie, and the who,e complicated business was killing him. It took a while to navigate the crowd and get away from people without seeming rude, and after a while of not finding her he walked over to the bar as a last result. Not to mention he needed a little drink.

He stopped as he saw a couple kissing at the bar, almost backing away. He hated going near couples like that, it was always weird and awkward. But then he stopped, looking at them closely. Adelisa and... Hunter. What? Grant didn't react. He was furious at Hunter, and disappointed in Adelisa, but he figured she didn't want someone as straightlaced as himself. His hands balled into fists, he considered going over to beat up his 'best friend' when lots of things happened at once. Amelia, having seen them too, stormed off. He could empathize, and considered going after her instead, but then Delilah followed her. Jared was left with the two of them, and it wasn't long before Hunter had grabbed Jared's keys and gone off. Grant scowled. He was clearly drunk, and trust him to make a series of bad decisions one after the other. It wasn't long before it was just Grant left at the party, but he didn't feel like partying or going home with anyone.

He just wanted to go home. Not home to their goddamn condo he shared with Hunter and with Amelia right across the goddamn hall. He wanted to go home, where he could focus on his career like he fucking should have instead of wasting his time and money on a stupid vacation. He walked back to their condo to see Jared sitting in the middle of their condos. He stopped and looked at him. "Well, you look upset. Did your ex make out with your best friend too?" He asked, almost sarcastically. What wouldn't he give for a shot right now.

[Assistant]
Amelia took another drag of the cigarette just as Lila came into her range of vision. She wasn't sure what she hated more- the fact that her best friend had just made out with the one guy she had ever fallen in love with or the fact that she couldn't make her heart let go of Hunter. She balled her hands into fists, crushing what was left of the cigarette and burning her palm accidentally. She dropped the cigarette to the ground and looked at her bloody palm before sighing and dropping her head to her knees. She buried her face, she didn't want anyone to see her like this. Her head was pounding, and her heart seemed to stop working. Everything that Amelia worked so hard for was suddenly gone.

Amelia felt the heaviness of her chest, like she was suffocating. The tears wouldn't stop. The sobs began, making her entire body tremble. She just wanted to forget, that's all she had wanted. She didn't know Hunter still loved her. Last night he had acted like their chances together were less than none. He had a baby on the way for crying out loud! Amelia listened to Lila as her best friend tried to help her. When she asked what She could do, Amelia only knew one thing she needed. "Please check on Adelisa," As much as it hurt her, she remembered talking Adelisa out of multiple suicide attempts. She was upset with Adelisa, yes, but Amelia still loved her. "Please, run." Amelia said in as loud as her hoarse voice would allow her.

Amelia waited for Lila to go before laying on her side in the lounge chair. She curled into the fetal position, not caring who saw her. She knew she looked like a total mess. Some people would probably think she is crazy. This is how she laid in bed weeks after her and Hunter's break up. Refusing to eat, refusing to drink.. Anorexia took over. The empty feeling in her stomach was nothing compared to the gaping hole she felt in her heart. "I just wanted to forget.." She whispered to only herself as she closed her eyes and felt the sobbing start once again.

Amelia ran her fingers through her hair. What always made her feel better? ...Singing. She was alone now, so she let herself go. The lyrics she almost instantly thought of she softly sung in a voice only Hunter had heard before.

"What hurts the most
Is being so close
And having so much to say
But watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was trying to do.."

[User]
Hunter sat in the back of an Ambulance, His left arm was in a sling, he had a minor concussion, an a couple cracked ribs. He made it out better then the El Camino, his very first car was in shambles. The door had to be removed to get him out, same with the steering column, The roof isn't savable, but somehow the locker in the trunk survived just fine, well other then a loos shotgun shell going off at some point during the wreck. As far as he knew all the contents inside it were safe enough.

The old car was going to be taken to a mechanic, he was told considering everything that happened he was lucky to be alive. He knew he was lucky to be alive, but now that he was alive he had to make sure everything else was alright. The car was in... fixable condition, as in two days at the mechanic and he could drive it again, a week or so and it would be about as fixed as it could be, though Hunter didn't have the money for that. Two days it was for him.

He got up from the back of the ambulance and asked one of the EMTs for a phone. Then he just held it, he screwed up everything tonight, who could he call? As far as he could tell he about pissed off everyone, who ever he didn't seem to piss off he broke there hearts. His closest family was several states away, also he didn't want to explain to anyone he was related to he was drunk and crashed his car going over 100 miles an hour. He didn't have the guts to face anyone at this moment, he just wanted to go home, though he was going to have to wait at least a couple days for the car to get fixed.

He handed the EMT the phone. "Thanks, I'm going to get going, I have someone meeting me down the road a ways." He started walking down the road, it was about 6 miles back to the town, then another 2 to get tot he hotel from where he was at. He already talked to the officer on the scene, he had a fair amount of tickets to pay for not only him being drunk well driving, but also his vehicle wasn't street legal because of its condition.

Walking was something Hunter did a lot of, his car had a slight tendency to break down a lot. Though he didn't get far before the officer at the car wreck more or less forced him to get a ride back to the Hotel. "Thanks." He said as he got out, his foot stepped in some kind of liquid on the curb, breaking fluid? Sucks for who ever owns that car. He walked as clean as he could inside, though he was still holding a limp well he walked into the hotel. He tried to take the stairs, still hurting to much. The elevator was close, he walked his way over to that and took it up.

He almost made it back tot he Condo before he noticed Jareth and Grant. He had to make things right. He fucked up and now it was time to face the consequences. He walked up too the two of them. "Alright, First off, sorry for telling you off Jareth, I was in a piss poor mood and that wasn't your fault... Sorry about that." he turned to face Grant. "And I know you're pissed man, so before you go off I want you to know it wasn't Adelisa's fault, I was in a weak state at the moment. I'm sorry." He stopped for a moment. "But I'm not the only one who should be sayings sorry, She cares for you still. Seeing that other girl hurt man. Now." He held out his good arm and move his sling out of the way of his chest as best as eh could. "Now I'm ready, Just avoid the face for now, No idea how bad the concision is yet, and the left side of my rib cage, couple of those are cracked still." He closed his eyes and braced for impact.

[Assistant]
Jareth didn't know how long he'd spent sitting there staring at the patterns in the carpet. At some point he had pulled out his wallet and taken out the picture of Lila and himself that he still had. The photo was wrinkled and worn out, but it was a selfie of them happily kissing in the snow, on a road trip home to meet her parents. They were so happy on their way there, and oh so not happy on their way back. Jar had put the photo back in his wallet and rested his head against the wall, exhaling heavily. The fact that everything was taking so long wasn't a good sign…

Grant had finally showed up and stopped when he saw Jar in the hallway. "Well, you look upset. Did your ex make out with your best friend too?" he asked.

"Not exactly." Jar replied, it was quite the opposite actually, but Grant didn't need to hear about that now. "But, uh, Hunter took off..." Jareth stood up and let out another deep exhale, as if he was preparing himself for a brave confession. It kind of was, he was about to admit something that even Delilah didn't know about him. His college therapist told him that it wasn't a good idea to internalize it so much, the fact that he'd lost his two best childhood friends in a horrible drunk driving accident in high school. And, that only a few weeks before graduation, he had to put on a suit and make a speech at the funeral for the only two people in the world that had showed him any kind of love. There was a reason that he wasn't that close to his Crim Son band mates, Jessie and Eric. There was a reason that his new college friends were nothing like him. He picked safe friends this time around. He picked friends that he thought wouldn't die on him. He had always thought, that if Hunter was going to die early, it would have been from a freak accident to go down in the history books, like his shotgun misfiring while shooting targets in his back yard. But not like this…

Jar looked at Grant with eyes swallowed deep in sorrow. "There is a reason I made us put our keys in the basket –" he tried to keep his voice from cracking, but failed. "Hunter found them, I saw his keys in his hand when he was drunk and ran off… I know you're probably pissed at him right now, but there's a possibility that we might not see him alive again. I couldn't catch him in time." He was trying to convince himself that it wasn't his fault, he'd taken the keys, he tried to prevent this, he tried to catch him, but he wasn't quick enough. "I don't think I can handle watching a third best friend lowered into the ground because of this." Jar admitted and his voice broke in sadness.

Grant was still trying to process the intensity of Jar's emotions when Hunter returned. His arm was in a sling and his forehead was bruised. Waves of relief washed over Jar. "Alright, First off, sorry for telling you off Jareth…" Hunter began apologizing to the both of them while Jareth just stared in shock. "You're alive!" Jar said when he finally found the words and he hugged his stupid mule of a friend tightly. Jar never really pretended to be a tough guy, he owned up to his sensitivity and felt unashamed to hug someone he cared about. At the same time, he did still have quite the temper, which usually only flared up when Lila and he fought. He could usually channel it into his music. Despite his friend being injured, Jar pushed him hard into the wall "Don't you EVER do that again, you fucking idiot! You could have died! You look like you're lucky that you didn't." Not to mention that getting a job would be next to impossible with a DUI charge under his belt. "You're going to be a father, what were you thinking?"

[User]
Grant looked at Jareth in surprise. He usually didn't see him so strung up, except after his breakup with Delilah. He opened his mouth to say something when Hunter showed up, bruised and battered but alive. Grant's expression immediately became a flat and emotionless one as he looked at him. Jareth was practically crying with relief as he hugged Hunter, but Grant just listened to him talk. "Fuck you, man." He said finally, folding his arms. "I'm just glad you're okay," he said tiredly. Okay, he was pretty furious too, but he'd let it take the backseat for now. But what did Hunter mean about that other girl? The blonde? He'd just danced with her, for crying out loud. Like Grant flipped a switch seeing Addie actually flirt with some other guy. He sighed. He figured some of the responsibility for Addie was on him, so he turned away from his other friends and knocked on the girls' door, loudly and repeatedly.

Grant felt weighed down inside. Nothing went right for him, did it? His best friend and his ex, then having said best friend get into a car crash. He was honestly relieved Hunter was alive and conscious, but he was furious at him as well, and it wasn't an anger that was going to dissipate any time soon. And Addie... He had no idea how he felt about her. All he could think was how close he was to cracking, and the exhaustion showed on his face. His eyes widened in panic as a thought occurred to him. Was Addie okay? She had to be, right? But the suicidal tendencies... He moved to knock again, but then opened the door and walked in, shouting her name. She had to be here somewhere, right? Safe and sound... She had to be.