[System]
Age: 14

Race: Human Meister

Personality: Maka is bright, cheerful, direct and confident, smart, and hard working. She frequently studies and prefer to stay in her house and read or study, emphasized by her lack of ability to play games such as basketball despite her athleticism, and she is ignorant of its various rules. Maka is also caring and compassionate, willing to easily help a friend when in need with no personal gain in the end.

However, since the death of Soul Evans, she's been everything but the Maka everyone has become accustomed to...

She's still somewhat cheerful, smart, and hard working (almost a little too much to get her mind off of things) and doesn't hang around her usual group of friends. She is often depressed, crying and most times hysterically out of the blue. After the long battle between her and her father, she told him she does love him despite her past behavior which has caused him to see just how bad Maka truly is now. In battle, Maka isn't as passionate but still gets the job done and often crashes asleep on the spot when a duel is over.

Backstory: Around the same time Black☆Star was born, which was thirteen years prior to the beginning of Soul Eater, Maka was born to her father Spirit Albarn (at the age of eighteen) and his wife. Throughout her childhood, she became displeased with her father's behavior as he cheated on his wife, which led to a strain between the two. She follows in her mother's footsteps and aspires to be one of the DWMA's top students but this motivation has died because of the taxing death of her weapon and partner of many years, Soul Evans.

[User]
The seemingly endless steps to DWMA was usually something Maka liked to run on and hop like there was no tomorrow at the start of every day, greeting people as she did and motivating them to the last step...

That Maka, to say the least, does not exist anymore.

Tsubaki and Black Star were by Maka's side as they helped up her the steps, panting for breath until she collapsed on Tsubaki's side with Black Star trying to keep her steady.

"M-Maka!" Tsubaki worried. "This is not good. Are you sure you're able to attend today? I think it's best you just stay with the nurse today. I'd take you back home but I don't want you to go through those steps again."

"Maka, you look more pale than usual and that says a lot," Black Star chided in but looked away when Tsubaki shot him an angry look.

"I'm fine... thank you," was all Maka managed to say.

Patting Black Star's hand that was on her wrist, she eased into the crowd entering the school, with somber eyes and looser pigtails. She stopped for a moment in the hallway and imagined Soul surprising her with an embrace and helping her back to class. Reality sucked and so did moments of wishful thinking like that too. Without anyone's knowledge, she ditched her class and ended up skipping to the library, making herself tinier to avoid being seen by the librarian at the front desk, heading to a small, round table where she removed her jacket and set it on the table, fluffing it up. As bad as she wanted to lie her head on it, she just sat slumped in her chair, staring at her jacket into the void.

[Assistant]
Sid gave Blaze his jacket. "First day back," the zombie said. "Sure you're up for this?" The young man nodded. He put his jacket on, and velcroed his gloves on.

"I'll be fine," he assured. The teacher had always been a father figure to Blaze, especially since the Paris Incident. Hell... Sid's the only reason I'm alive right now. The young man tried to smile. "Thanks for everything. And taking care of Tai for me."

Sid chuckled. "I know you love that fish," he said. "That's the kind of man I was." Blaze nodded and made his way to the DWMA. The sight of the academy had always filled him with hope, at one time.

But now, it seemed to be hollow, like a picture that had been edited one too many times. He would have to be paired up with a Meister again, but he didn't want to go to the class of newbies Sid always supervised. So his first class was a study hall in the library.

Blaze browsed through the books. Some time of browsing later, he'd picked up some books and sat at a table. He saw a girl, seemingly passed out, at the table next to his. Something seemed oddly familiar about her. "Hey, you okay?" His tone and expression were neutral, but perhaps a bit cold.

[User] "Mm? A-Ah..." she politely bowed her head to him as she rubbed both eyes. "I'm..." she hesitated with a sheepish smile until she pulled her jacket closer to her for comfort. "Not really. I wish I could've stayed home but my friends say otherwise. I'm hoping no one will catch me here but it won't be long until they notice their beloved Maka isn't there," she sighed as she glanced to him with a tired half smile. "That'd be me. What is your name?"


[System]
GENDER: Male

AGE: 39

APPEARANCE: Standing at six feet even, Mort is sturdily built, broad-shouldered and strong of arm. Though bald-headed, he sports a black goatee and a remarkable criss-cross scar across his face, but his eyes are commonly hidden beneath darkened spectacles. He wears a number of layers of clothes, including a black collared shirt, a blue guardsman's coat, and a green overcoat. Black greaves, gauntlets, and pants complete the ensemble.

BACKGROUND: To Mort, his early life feels like a dream. He can scarcely remember the specifics, only shapes, colors, and feelings. He recalls long days of green grass and trees, blue skies, and the weight of his weary head when the horizon turned orange and the clouds pink. Never did he know stillness, instead a constant stream of motion, but he knew safety in the shadow of his father. It had been a big shadow, its shade loving, but growing smaller over time. After days or even weeks of moving, he and his father would return, for at the end of the day, no matter where they wandered, they had a home. They were days of activity in peace, and Mort supposed it was during those years that he got acquainted with the feeling of a bow in his hand. But like all dreams, that time came to an end.

Bandits attacked the city. They pillaged it and set it to flame, killing those who didn't fall in line. When they were gone, the people began to rebuild. The duchess of the region, whose manor lay inside the city, promised that it would never happen again and consolidated her control. She enacted strict restrictions and increased security, conscripting capable citizens to become part of the militia. Mort was among there number, and a a soldier of the militia honed his skills with the bow dramatically. He specialized as a sniper, striking from afar with a longbow, and he took pride in using his skills to keep the city safe. But the militia didn't just secure the city from outside threats. Mort began to grow disenchanted with the militia as time and time again it received orders to use force against the city's own citizens, and those of the region. All the while, the duchess grew richer and more powerful, her critics and political enemies alike going silent. People fought and starved in the streets. Things were bad, and they could not continue.

It didn't take long for Mort to question the duchess' authority. He began to snoop around, trying to find evidence of corruption, but he was caught in the act and arrested for insubordination. When brought before the Duke he was given the chance to recant, but instead Mort attempted to fight his way free. Instead he was defeated by his militia comrades, men and women he'd known for years, and the duchess herself carved an X into his face before ordering his execution. On the way to the prison, however, Mort's father ambushed his captors and slew them. Together they hatched a plan, and on the day of Mort's execution, his father marched to the gallows in his stead. When the Duchess appeared to announce his sentence, Mort planted an arrow in her eye from a roof across the plaza. Father and son planned to escape together in the ensuing chaos, but the daring rescue went awry and his father was wounded. Faced with the prospect of dying alongside his father, Mort fled at his bidding, and ran far, far away.

Going by 'Bowman', he took work as a mercenary in a far-away land. He employed his skills for money to survive, eventually winding up as one member of an escort for a merchant caravan headed toward Fero Province. After spending a few days there the caravan prepared to return, and as usual Mort followed a ways behind it. It was on that return trip that Mort witnessed the Beast. Through his binoculars he caught incomplete glimpses of the thing as it tore the caravan to pieces. He knew that he should try to fight it, but instead he chose to save his own skin and flee back toward Fero. He warned the people of the horrific Beast, but unable to describe it in more detail, he couldn't stop others from going out and never coming back. Since then, Bowman became a common face in the province, a reliable hunter when not addled by drink. Ten years he regretted his second act of cowardice, awash in loathing and guilt, always wishing that he could settle the score with the Beast that came to symbolize his own failure but never daring to. When at long last the crown could stand isolation no more, Mort volunteered to join the expedition. This time, he thought, he did not value his life so much that he would turn away. This time, Mort promised, he would take the long shot. He would accomplish the mission, or die trying.

MOTIVATION: To kill the Beast and escape the anathema that is the province's isolation, or die trying.

GEAR: Blackeye Longbow, binoculars, hunting knife, bedroll, meal haversack (mess kit and ration storage)

[User]
Talic felt tired, but he certainly would have wished for the opposite to be the case or for never having to rest at all anymore. For him there were not one, but two monsters out there: An unknown in front of them, and one he knew all too well behind them -- or rather behind him alone. The overall situation allowed to question once more the wisdom behind remaining silent about his true story: What if any silent killers came at night, but because they were only behind him none of the others would recognize them as a threat until it was too late ? It was a gamble, but on the other hand a gamble no greater than it had been all those previous nights.

He would have wished for a tree. Something high to climb on as it would not only offer additional protection, but also allow to see much further in the morning. Despite the fact that Talic looked as if him climbing up a tree would rather tear down the latter instead of himself going upwards he actually was quite adept at that kind of stuff. One of the few hobbies he had been able to choose out of his own preference alone and therefore all the more precious.

Talic chose to rest on the grass. If he was going to sleep then he would do so with as much comfort as possible, everything else would be a contradiction. He pulled out the large piece of fur and cloth he had taken with him for that kind of purpose, put it on the ground and warpped himself into it subsequently. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep and it even seemed to be a deep one.

[Assistant]
Ardonne gingerly flipped a page, regarding the culinary and medicinal uses of nettles as one of the party was abruptly awoken from his slumber. Initially she just watched Mort. Her eyes were full of questions - out of everyone assembled, it was starting to become apparent that he was the object of her fascination. She was dismissive towards the rest but curious towards Mort. Whatever it was that held her attention would remain unspoken for now; there were more pressing matters at hand.

"What is it," Ardonne hissed as Mort looked to and fro. "Are you frightened?" Even now she spoke with a goading sneer but...it didn't seem intentional. There was a reason, after all, that she had come to be known as a generally unpleasant little shit by the people who knew her. There was no way she was looking for a fight at this time in the morning, surrounded by capable and level headed veterans who'd pummel some sense into her if that's what it'd take. She just seemed to still be ruffled the wrong way by their meeting and a lack of sleep.

[User]
Zahir Rahel

All things considered, they could be in a far worse way on their first night and a far worse position. It was a nice thought, one that comforted Zahir as he pondered on the events of the day as well as the task to come. Their group was certainly one of missfits, strung together in this odd task, but at least they seemed competant.

... Well most of them at least.

The addition of a moody, half suicidal it seemed girl did complicate things, in fact it complicated things a lot. Still it was one more reason why he couldn't back out, now was not the time to begin valuing his own neck over that promise ... or his own concience.

Whatever was in the woods was staying there at the moment, which meant quite a few things, some of which deeply worried the old man, not that anyone would see it behind the mask. If it wasing coming closer, it was worried ... probably about a straight fight over open ground against a bow. However it also meant that whatever it was smart enough to realise that, or was just waiting for an opportunity. Whatever it was, it meant this thing was intelligent.

Gently he moved a hand closer towards his blade, trying to appear as non-hostile as possible while bring prepared enough should a move be made.

[Assistant]
Galia Guardstrike

Galia could hardly sleep. She had stayed silent, happy to let some of the others take charge for now. For the first time in a long time, she was nervous. Those woods, perhaps, were getting to her. They beckoned to her. Whatever happened in there, it was her destiny. After a bit of silent introspection, the brunette realised the cause of her newfound discomfort. When she was on her own as merc, she didn't care whether she lived or died. She could fight without fear and damn the consequences. Death by sword was all she deserved. When she found Elly, she would happily throw herself on a blade to save her lover's life. Death had never, in her life, mattered. But now, it did.

Because for the first time, she had found a cause worth dying for, but one she couldn't. Death equaled failure. The only way to truly be victorious was to slay the beast, find the cure, and return home. Fail any one of those objectives and it would be a miserable disaster. Either way, Galia and Eleanor die. Without Galia, Elly has no hope of survival. Without Eleanor, Galia has no hope of a future. At least, that's what it felt like. Eleanor would probably say something different, but the last thing she needed was for Elly's last words to be about how Galia is strong enough to find love and be happy. The very thought brought a scowl to her features and she glared even harder at the forest. Were someone to spark a match at that moment, the entire wood would burn to the ground.

Now there was this girl, a teenager, who was the black sheep of the group of black sheep. Eleanor had cursed Galia long ago with an instinct of protecting human life, and perhaps she reminded Galia of herself, when she was younger. Angry, stupid, and hungry for more.

Now, what? It would be strategically beneficial to bond with this group of strangers. Already she had learned some of their names, but if they were going to be fighting together it would only make sense for them to be acquainted.

Galia could hardly sleep, but she was good at it. Very good. If she closed her eyes, she could fall asleep upside down with an orchestra playing two feet away, and wake up with the sunrise. It was a skill she had picked up long ago, and one that could hardly be explained to people who hadn't lived the soldiers life for an extended period of time. So if she wanted too, she could stop staring up at the stars and go to sleep. It would be wise. The others wanted to camp, so she would, too. It would be foolish to charge in on the first night and hope for the best, even though that was her plan when she first arrived. Thankfully she wasn't as impulsive as she used to be. And once again...failure of any kind, was not an option.

So she did just that. Galia, with her armor laying beside her, quickly found a light, restful sleep that could be broken at a moment's notice should the need arrive.

[User]
As the quiet of the night drew on, whatever was haunting the treeline had made no further sounds. Those who slept would find their rest uninterrupted, at least as far as it normally was. One could be forgiven for relaxing.

Those who were awake, however, might notice the breeze going dead.

A dark shape moved by the treeline - still in the shadows, but very much within their line of sight as they watched the trees. And then it stepped out into the moonlight, silent as the grave.

A black stag took a few slow, steady paces out of the trees, its hooves practically ghosting through the wild grass. Its tall, skeletal antlers were faintly silvered with cobwebs, as though the branches and foliage of the woods hadn't so much as touched them. The lack of proper lighting against its dark hide cast the stag's face in shadow.

Although its eyes could not be seen, Ardonne would feel it staring directly at her even while she was looking at her old mentor.

In a way nature definitely never intended, the stag's mouth peeled back into an unsettling grin. Its blunt, white teeth gleamed in the moonlight.

[Assistant]
Mort's tense examination of the treeline did not go uninterrupted. Instead he found his senses, so attuned for the slightest disturbance amidst the silence, assailed by the voice and visage of Ardonne. She asked if he was scared, an asinine and tactically unsound course of action. He wanted nothing more than for her to be quiet and let him reconstruct his alertness, but what would get her to shut up faster? If he didn't say anything -his preferred choice of action- she might press the matter, but if he replied the foolish girl might assume that he condoned a conversation and say more.

After a couple moments of internal deliberation, he muttered, "I am no idiot. Fear keeps you alive." He did not take his eyes off the trees, convinced that something lurked in those shadows, seeking the faintest hint of monstrosity in the moonlight.

Some more time passed. Mort couldn't tell how much. He did notice, however, when the gentle, whispering breeze fell silent. With it, the world lapsed into deafness. There were no owl hoots, no opossum hisses, no crickets chirps. Only heavy, oppressive silence.

Until something moved.

The hairs on the back of Mort's neck rose, and a chill crept down his spine. He sat up straight, eyes fixed on the fragment of shadow that pulled away from the amorphous mass. Swallowing, Mort blinked twice to make sure he wasn't imagining things, but the shape did not disappear. "Something's coming," he uttered in a strangled hiss, almost as quiet as the night itself. He couldn't make out its features, but it was larger than a man, and it walked on four gangly legs. Some sort of crownlike adornment sat upon its head, atop a slender, long neck that trended upward. A deer? Not a threatening creature typically, but deer did not act like this. It moved slowly with purpose through the open, straight for the gathering of humans. Could this...could this be?

Mort's hand already lay on his bow. Now he drew an arrow, moving almost imperceptibly slowly, careful to make no sudden moves. This can't be it, this can't be it, he thought again and again, but he could not shake that deadly question: what if it was?


[System]
Ren is a 17 year-old female trainer whose heritage stems from an offshore island smack dab in the middle of nowhere. She stands at 5'2, and weighs only 51kg. She has an extremely light and underdeveloped build, making her seem much younger than what she really is, much to her annoyance.

Sex: Female

Personality:

Creepy.

That's the one word that best describes Ren. Creepy. There are plenty of other words which greatly describe Ren, too: cynical, logical, sadistic, competitive, ambitious, and cold being among them. Whereas many trainers are hot-headed and confident, Ren is quite the opposite. Calm. Thinking. Silent. Like a hunter stalking it's prey, the seventeen year-old has a tendency to form complex strategies in short amounts of time. Though of course, if the situation were too difficult to forge a plan, gut feeling is best.

Funnily enough, many people actually mistake Ren as a boy due to her blunt and upfront nature, plus somewhat scratchier voice. In many ways Ren is smarter than most intelligence-wise, however lacks in social skills and isn't well educated in society. Speaking of, she has some very opinionated views on such topics or things that may be controversial, and, although is open to change her opinions or views on the world, it'll take some incredible persuasion to do so.

She also hates normal, girly things, and loves things like occult studies and lore.

Hometown: Offshore Island

Biography:

A tragic accident. A lone survivor. The tale is told many times, though rarely do these tales become reality.

At least, until now.

Ren Moyra was a victim of a tragic, mysterious event. One day, on her little island in which she grew, the floor opened up and simply... well, swallowed it whole! As strange as it sounds, that's the best way Ren can describe it: her home was eaten up by a darkness so incredible, there was nothing left of the area she called home. Even the sea needed to be evened out again, as a significant amount of water was swallowed up by the darkness.

Ren was hardly offshore when it happened. Going on an excursion with her grandfather to the mainland to do some trading at the marketplace, the two were stunned as their former home sunk into nothingness, never to be seen again.

Parents? Gone.
Friends? Dead.
Home? Obliterated.

There was nothing. She had nothing. Ren became nothing. Everything up to that point in her life had been for naught. All the fun times shared, and memories made, were wasted in an instant.

And all she could blame was the large, mysterious dragon which made it's way into the sky afterward. She didn't get a good look of this dragon, mind you. It's silhouette was all that could be seen in the midday sun. All she knew was that this was no ordinary Pokemon. This Pokemon was special. It was stronger than almost all others. Later, she found out that there was a classification for such Pokemon:

Legendary.

Following the event, Ren and her grandfather left for the mainland, and saved up enough to buy a small apartment with their limited funds. Considering Ren's grandfather could not work all that hard, Ren was forced to grow a backbone and work to make money while educating herself on... well, just about anything, really, though she took a shine to legends and mythology, namely legendary Pokemon. Her main drive in these studies was to find the creature whom destroyed her home, and find a way of drawing it out, perhaps with the help of another legendary Pokemon.

The study-work combo lasted right on through till Ren was sixteen, when she finally found what she was looking for.
The creature which took everything from her.
The monster which robbed her of everything and left behind nothing.

... Unfortunately, it had no name.

Though her hatred remained, Ren couldn't help but be fascinated with this Pokemon in particular. A creepy obsession over it. She both loved it and absolutely despised it at the same time, something not many trainers can experience, at least not on her magnitude. Legendaries had always caught Ren's eye, but this... this was something special.

Shortly after her discovery, her grandfather passed away. Though her feelings for the man weren't especially great, she still loved him, and the experience shook her up. After all, he'd been with her all this time, so how could she not? However, she soon came to realise that if one were to bury their emotions, pain becomes a non-existent factor. No more suffering, and definitely no more crying.
And so she buried.
After both ceremonies were complete, Ren had a long, hard think about life and it's meaning. Not life in general, but her life and what it has amounted to. 'Jack shit,' was the crude way of putting it. Her life, up until this point, had been pretty much meaningless. She didn't know what she was doing, or why she was doing it. The only time she truly became aware of herself was when she studied, and she knew she couldn't study for a living...

... Though she could become a Pokemon trainer and study in the field, learning more of the world outside.

The thought would've intimidated her if her emotions still existed, though once they'd been drowned out, nothing would stop her from moving forward. And so, after selling the house and getting an ample supply of essentials, money and other such items (not that one could get much with their cheap shack anyways), Ren began her journey to see Prof. Kalmia in Pureplain City, to begin her Pokemon journey.

Kind of Pokemon You Like: Dragons are her favourite type, though Ren does quite enjoy variation.

Items: 1x Potion

Pokédollars: 500p

Quirks/Talents/Aspirations/Other: Tends to look down on others, and sees herself as more knowledgeable on the subject of Pokemon than most. Likes studying Pokemon mythology, though has no real idea of what she wants to do. Talks too much. Has a secret thing for sweets.

Pokémon Name: Shyn, the Shinx!

Physical Appearance: Shyn's hair is exceptionally long for a Shinx, probably due to the fact that anyone whose ever approached him wielding scissors was electrocuted. (Standard appearance below.)

Sex: Male ♂

Type: Electric

Personality/Mood: Shyn's an odd little feller; a perfect fit to the similarly strange Ren Moyra. He doesn't really say a whole lot and can be exceptionally lazy at times, unless in a battle, which is when he's most hyper. The little electric doggo-wolf-thing is something of a masochist, and likes seeing others get angry out of spite. Though a little lonely, the pup ups his spirits through practical jokes on others, and as a result doesn't make a whole lot of Pokefriends. In fact he's better around humans than his own kind, being the product of a spoiled family and lab-dog, so he's a little more intelligent than most.

Quirks/Talents/Aspirations/Other: Likes reading (he can read picture books), eating, battling, taking pain, and having long, stylish hair. He hates hair cuts, crap food, and pretty much everything else aside from battling. Wants to evolve into a powerful Luxuray and have plenty of pretty Luxio babes wanting him.

Starting Moves: Tackle, Leer, Flash

Ability: Intimidate - Lower's the opponents attack by 1/4 when switched in. Can't be used multiple times on the same Pokemon.

Held Item: N/A

[User]
Amelia Averyonna

Amelia tried. She really did, but she couldn't help but stop when they passed a group of Pumpkaboos. She knew Laurinda was tired and that she was simply being selfish at this point, but she just knew if she didn't do this now, it would bother her for quite a while. Tugging Launinda's sleeve gently to get the older woman's attention, she moved over to the Pumpkaboos and smiled once she had their attention.
"Hello there. How are you all doing tonight?" She asked, wondering how the individual's before her would react to her presence and want to talk to them.

[Assistant]
Dawkin Trustram

The sceneary didn't bear terribly much interest to Dawkin at this point, though he did keep an eye out for Pokemon that interested him. You never knew when something expected was going to show up, speaking of which. Dawkin raised an eyebrow at the two trainers that were accosting them. Frankly he doubted they'd be much of a challenge but as Dawkin was in no rush he wasn't looking to turn them down. Martin however might be a bit more inclined to be speedy... "Well Martin, shall we show them that appearances can be deceiving or simply that not all fruit is within reach?" In other words were they going to fight or move on, as a normal person might say, but Dawkin had a flair for the dramatic.

---

Items:
x1 Potion
x5 Pokeball
x2 Super-Potions
x1 Escape rope
x2 Repels
x1 Awakening
x1 Paralyze Heal
x1 Antidote

Pokédollars: 22p.

Atlas
Gender: Male
Type: Steel/Rock

Species: Aron
Level: 7
Personality: A stubborn and sometimes disagreeable little fellow, he likes eating. A lot. He's smarter than he looks and can be quite devious in order to get what he wants.
Quirks/Talents/Aspirations/Other: Fill in as we go. Probably
Moves: Tackle, Harden, Mudslap, Headbutt
Ability: Sturdy. Allows the pokemon to survive an attack that would otherwise knock it out.
Held Item:

Gender: ♀
Type: Water/Ground
Personality:
Quirks/Talents/Aspirations/Other:
Level: 6
Moves: Water Gun, Tail Whip, Mud Sport
Ability: Water Absorb, will regain health upon being hit with a water-type move.
Held Item: None.

[User]
Now, Ren certainly wasn't expecting them to say yes, not after how Jacques and Kalmia responded to her earlier. Through her foolish bullion logic she imagined the two might actually want to be considerate to her expenses.

Needless to say, she was wrong.

Despite this, she couldn't be entirely disheartened. The young woman hadn't found such pleasant conversation in individuals before, so the two provided a pleasant breath of air her way. It was a good opportunity to develop her social skills, and stock up on any foodstuffs she might need for her coming journey, if possible. Of course, she didn't really know too many places, however figured the trio would work that out as they traveled around town. "If you insist. However, I admit my eating habits may be seen as a bit... unrefined. Heh."

One could've sworn that Ren had almost laughed.

---

Pureplain, being the city of absolute normality, had an abundance of places the trio could snack at. Eventually Ren managed to find a place that the three could agree to try out, and they shared pleasantries about miscellaneous topics, such as contests, their dreams, their pasts, and all manner of things. She enjoyed the company, though found certain topics awkward or difficult to talk about, such as her past or, worst of all, boys. As it happened, the two men may have deducted that she was into the princely types, as unrealistic as they were, though would also settle for someone who wasn't a total prick.

However their wallets and time only lasted them so long. With so much to do and an adventure to start, they eventually decided to head their own ways for the time being, with the intention of meeting up together some other time. Having made a dent in her wallet, Ren figured it was a good idea to quickly try to find the gym before going to visit Professor Kalmia, seeing as she knew where to go from the Professor's place. She made sure to try and use whatever she had available to better her odds of finding the gym quickly, so she could check it out before she left to thank Kalmia and subsequently begin her journey.

Also because she reeeeeeeeeally needed money now. If she didn't start winning some battles on one of the routes, she'd starve before making it to the next town!

So, with her goal in sights, Ren began searching for the Pureplain city gym.


[System]
Look at that body.
Age: 16
Height: 5'9
Weight: 155 lbs
Path: Kurai

Personality: Kaori is what many would consider lazy. This is only partially true, as she is a relaxed and generally slow moving person, often giving off the impression that she is in a daze or a state of confusion. In reality, she is complete in control of her actions and is acutely aware of her surroundings. This facade allows her to remain mostly inconspicuous and get away with napping in class from time to time, since half the time she's ignoring class and writing notes that have no pertaining to anything that is actually going on. Her perception of others is almost nonexistent, as she'd prefer to simply be left alone, and fails to interact socially with others unless forced to. She is not a leader, but a passive follower and a reactionist.

Biography: Born and raised a few miles outside of a temple of monks, the village she lived in was one of peace and serenity. It was not one that young Kaori disliked. In fact, the tranquility of her little village, which farmed enough to sustain itself and the temple, is what gave her her lazy attitude and outlook on life. There wasn't a need to interact with other people, because everything was provided for her. However, by the time she was twelve, Kaori had grown tired of the lifestyle, and began to train her body. It wasn't combat training, just physical and muscle training. At fourteen, she arrived at the temple to train under some monks, who taught her two of the five types of Monkey Fist, however only a year and a half later she was kicked out once they found out she was practicing black magics. So, she permanently adopted the style of the Lost Monkey to give off a false impression, and went off to find and join the Shaolin School.

Martial Art Style
Tai Shing Lost Monkey - Lost Monkey feigns a lot. Practitioners of Lost Monkey give the appearance of being lost and confused to deceive the opponent into underestimating his abilities, and he retaliates when it is least expected. The hands and footwork change and flow from each other at will.
Tai Shing Stone Monkey - The practitioner trains up his body to exchange blows with the opponent - Stone Monkey uses a kind of iron body method. It will leave an area exposed on its body for an opponent to attack, so it can attack a more vital spot on the body. It is important not to attack reflexively at open spots, and try to hammer away at their weak spots until they give in.

Magic Style
Darkness Manipulation - The power to manipulate darkness/shadows in a variety of ways.
Black Lightning Manipulation - User can create, shape and manipulate manipulate the darker, destructive and consuming aspects of lightning, which ignores the limitations and weaknesses of normal lightning. Black lightning not only discharges energy, it shocks and destroys everything it touches, including regular and white lightning.
Dark Shield Construction - The user can create shields of varying shapes and sizes out of the darkness using umbra kinetic constructs.

Character Rank: D
Missions Completed: 0

[User]
Hanzõ opened his eyes slowly when the Headmaster addressed him. Then he stood up and looked right back into his eyes, without a blink or hesitation. His lips begun forming wider smile and he let's out a small laugh then."Good Headmaster, do not get me wrong." He then begun to talk calmly."I meant no such disrespect towards you. I am indeed here to study. What I study, now that is a different matter. What you can teach me, is another." He shakes his head slightly, never breaking the eye contact with the Headmaster."You do not tolerate incompetence you say. That is respectable feature in a person such as you. You will see, Sensei, that it is not I you need to watch over while here." He breaks the eye contact for split second to glance over at the rest of his classmates and then focuses them back into his eyes."Yes, instead of worrying about me, Headmaster...there are others that will need your guidance right now. Granted that you are able to provide them with such..luxury." He chuckles slightly and licks his dry lips slowly."After all, a student with a broken neck is not much of a student, aren't I correct, Sensei?"

He walks past the man and joins the rest of the class with light, quiet steps. He turns to see the Headmaster then and flashes a small smile, his eyes closing. His aura becomes visible, dark, nearly black one it was, then he leaps up, flips in the air and lands against the ceiling on his feet, his back now turned to the Headmaster once more, he bends his back and tilts his head backwards, looks at the male in the eyes, for a split second they seemed black as the darkest night, but only for such a short time. Hanzõ smiles at the man, and jumps down, landing gracefully and straightening his Gi then."But, after all, Sensei." He starts speaking and let's out a single cough."It would be foolish to show confidence with no proof for the right for it." He bows yet again flawlessly and his aura turns dark purple.

[Assistant]
[Day 1 - Monday - 10:30 am]

While the other students were practicing their technique, it was almost as if the exchanges he and Hanzo had reduced the sound in the rest of the room. For a quick second he saw Akihiko flash behind the boy with the both of them staring directly at him. He shook his head while Hanzo continued talking to him, his every word seemed to hit home with Hajime. There was something inside this kid that was much stronger and much different than the other students. After he demonstrated his energy…even his power felt different. Who was this kid? For some reason Hajime wanted to kill him but to him, he was just a kid with remarkable power. The entire time Hanzo stood on the ceiling, Hajime narrowed his eyes at Hanzo's desk. The boy has gotten under his skin. Finally, he sighed and perhaps thought that he was thinking of it too hard. But the visions of being a vanguard will sometimes create fake illusions…therefore; he decided to brush any thoughts he had of Hanzo off, somewhat.

Turning back around to everyone who succeeded and failed he watched the clock above the chalk board.

"Class dismissed." He said.

Sin'chi walked to his own desk and started fiddling around with some papers.

[User]
It was clear the rest of the students had finally arrived. Or so Yoshito thought. I suppose you could never know who would come in at the last minute, but he doubted that. He continued listening to the headmasters instructions, clear, although very brief in explanation as he demonstrated the technique without giving too many details. An aura flashed around the attire of Sin'Chi in a beautiful light blue color. It was definitely a sight to see, truly a masters art, though, it was to be expected at his level. Using his centered energy, the headmaster began walking on the walls of the classroom, to the ceiling, and eventually floated gracefully back down on top of the desk at the front of the class. It was clear the headmaster believed in actions speaking louder than words. He must have assumed the rest of the group could manage it on their own. By then one stray girl from the class was already up front attempting the same maneuver the headmaster had instructed. Yoshito was in no way eager to see what ability his fellow classmates had, though he did show a keen interest now as he was no longer totally zoned out. It seemed Yoshito was disappointed at a failed attempt, just as more students started to get up from their desks. No one appeared to be standing one-by-one as the headmaster asked, not like minor differences like that mattered. It was at this time the personalities of everyone else started showing. One girl even offered to treat the wounds of another fallen student. He was aware of the desk being knocked over, but has seen too many fumbles in his time at the temple to find it abnormal.

Before getting up, he paused, taking note of the student that was speaking to the headmaster. He caught a few words and thought he misheard them originally, but directed his attention to the student in front of the class, the one speaking to, or rather down at everyone else. His tone came off as cocky, a very pompous person indeed. Yoshito couldn't help but snicker, things like these could rile him up (with joy), but he managed to stifle his enjoyment and proceed watching the others.

About a minute passed and most, if not everyone from the class had went. Yoshito sighed and muttered something inaudible under his breath before continuing to the front of the class. As he stood in front of the blackboard, Yoshito began to focus his mind and count down. This has always brought his body to a steady beat in which he could concentrate on his strength. From there he began to channel energy through his body and relax all tension within his joints. A power grew within his body, and a light blue aura was seen rising from Yoshito's figure to full length as it extended to his legs and molded itself at the bottom of his feet. Like this, Yoshito could equivocate things in his favor was both feet brought themselves to the blackboard, one after another without a second of hesitation. For a moment he felt as if something had popped, he was overwhelmed in his thought process for just a second that gravity began to pull backwards on his body and Yoshito slipped up. Before falling he was able to act quick enough, and plant both sandals down against the chalky platform again.

"Whoops." escaped his mouth as solemnly as could be. That was close.. he thought as he re-positioned himself and started again. It was evident there was a small struggle, and his aura reflected on this, but slowly his energy built back up, and Yoshito brought himself to the ceiling of the classroom to where he hung upside down with his eyes closed. For a moment, he opened them without a word said, took a deep breath and dangled as to build momentum before unlocking his feet from the rooftop and drop back to the ground. The small body of the boy was seen landing on the floor with a roll off his impact.

Yoshito took a moment and dusted off his baggy pants "Fun.." his voiced dragged on again in a very unenthusiastic tone. Regardless, he did appreciate the introduction the headmaster had given. He supposed it was needed in order to ease your way into the bigger things. As his aura dissipated, the boy took his satchel, and headed out the door of the classroom once everyone was dismissed.

[Assistant]
After her apparent "failure," Kaori stood a few feet away from the rest, leaning up against a wall. Her arms were crossed, eyes narrowly watching the rest. The gaze was not one of envy, or even displeasure. No, it was that of a hawk, narrowly watching its prey. One by one the classmates went by, succeeding or failing. One of the latecomers doing it quite spectacularly at that. It was quite hilarious, but it'd be odd if she laughed at him after he own performance. So, she stifled it, kept her frown on, and went on to the next student. A light eyebrow arched upwards as the Hanzo boy addressed the Headmaster with an arrogance that she had never seen before. If she had not wanted to hide her power, in all honesty, she would have done something. Kaori was not one to stand idly by while others assumed that they were better than everyone else in the room. Clearly he came from some sort of noble upbringing, to give himself such a pompous and self-entitled attitude towards the others. It brought a smile to her face once the Headmaster rebuked him.

The next few came and went, including one who did it slowly and shakily, and then decided to demonstrate her healing powers on the one who fell down harder than she had. Another late comer then decided to smart off at Hanzo, gaining him Kaori's attention long enough for her to watch him demonstrate his powers, causing her to mutter, "What the hell is that aura?" before quieting down again. That... was not purely Hikari, to be sure. Not only that, but it was a violent demonstration of what looked to be almost light energy, something that generally did not happen, if her former teachings were to be believed. Before she had time to consider it further, Hanzo once again opened his sorry hole, and only caused more ire towards him. Even his demonstration only made him look like more of an ass, including that awfully sinister looking aura.

Immediately after, the Headmaster called class dismissed. A blessing. Kaori was the first to slip out, giving a brief "Goodbye" and a wave towards the Headmaster before going out the door to find her dorm room. Once she found it, she went off to find her pack, left elsewhere, and began to settle in. The first order of business was changing clothing, getting dressed in a baggy orange gi with a tan, long sleeved, loose shirt underneath, along with a rope belt underneath. Where she came from, rope belts were the status of someone who was meant to repent or one who was damned. She slipped on some sandles over her socks, thick wooden blocks not meant to be particularly comfortable, and began to channel her energy about.

A light purple aura, nearer to lavender in color, appeared around her as she went through some exercise movements, taking deep breaths. Black electricity sparked across her hands as she went through the motions. That ended, then small circular barriers began to rotate around her forearms and forelegs, but once again soon dissipated. Finally, she stopped her little exercise, listened for others coming down the hall, before continuing on to the next part, which was, quite simply, walking up the wall, which took her a grand total of ten seconds to scale the wall and then get on the ceiling, with only a few more to get to the center of it, with her shirt falling down over her face. She huffed, then flipped down off to land on her feet.

With that done, she knelt on her mat, placed her hands on her knees, shut her eyes, and began to meditate. Hopefully, whoever her roommate ended up being wouldn't just be a complete ass and bust in making all kinds of noise.


[System]
Height: 6'4"

Weight: 211lbs

Hair Color: Dull Brown

Eye Color:
Left Eye: Green
Right Eye: Hidden beneath Eyepatch, assumed missing
Age: 37

Personality: Taskmage Atreides might be described as sarcastic, disrespectful to anyone who attempts to assert superiority over him, bitter and jaded to the world as a whole. They would not be wrong, but they would not know the whole picture of the Taskmage either. Wandering the lands of the Imperium, doing work for whomever needed his services hardens a man to the suffering and pain the world has. The first to reply to an insult or taunt with a sardonic and often times venomous reply, one would be surprised to note that when the Taskmage takes someone under his protection and tutelage, nothing short of complete obliteration stays his hand when it comes to bettering said person. Such unshakeable loyalty made him a popular hired hand, since once he took the money, he didn't betray his employer until the job, as listed per contract, was complete and someone paid him more to form a new contract. So despite his sardonic comments, his often times unlikeable statements and displeasing aura he seems to have, Atreides is not one to abandon the few that earn his loyalty rather then buy it, regardless the cost to himself.

Weapons:
+Luna (Detailed in main image): A blade forged with equal parts magic and forge work, this weapon is his primary means of fighting in hand to hand, and his only means of armed combat outside his magic. Due to its unique forging process, it acts as a natural focus and can channel both his ritual magics and actual combat spells when in a bind.

+Khopesh Blade: An enigma of a weapon, Atreides refuses to explain the weapon or why he carries it when it serves no purpose that Luna, his main sword, could not possibly do better. It is completely immune to any spells he has ever attempted to cast on it, some far more powerful effect deflecting any overriding enchantments from his rituals, but it never seems to leave his person. Even when lost, its back in his pack within a few hours when no one is looking.

Abilities (Magic):
Taskmage: Rather then specialize in any one specific arcane art, Taskmages are expected to be able to act as the jack of all trades, when referenced against the arcane practitioners of the realm. This comes as a twin edged blade, some seeing an advantage, others, a grave disadvantage. Taskmages will rarely best enemy wizards in the field the hostile mage has dedicated him or herself to, however, Taskmages can command a far greater, and wider, variety of spells without any more training than most normal mages, and generally have a knack for quickly copying spells for their own use, albeit taking time to bring them up to a well trained enough level to be dangerous. Generally, only one to three spells from any one school of magic might be known at any one time, although legends of the predecessors to modern Taskmages make stories of men and women capable of utilizing advanced magic from many different schools, after many years of application and training.

Current Schools Utilized: Electromancy, Geomancy, Pyromancy

Ritualistic Magic: As many times as a Taskmage might be hired to join a Mercenary band to provide a versatile hidden weapon, they are as often hired to prepare and enact various rituals that more dedicated archmages are too busy, or ask too high a price, to do. Protective wards, weapon enchanting, tracking spells, Ritual Magic is generally not seen as a in combat viability for the most part, instead used to prepare for combat before hand, runes and phrases prepared to trigger the effects stored by the rituals. Usually, even with prior preparation, a lengthy phrase must be recited to trigger a rituals effect.

Current Known Rituals:
Weapon Empowerment: (Atreides can currently only activate these on his own specially prepared blade)
+Ignis (Engulfs the Weapon in flames, Atreides most preferred and his go to enchantment)
+Umbra (Cloaks the weapon in shadow, creating an afterimage which reduces enemies ability to defend against following attacks)
+Sol (Encases the weapon in holy Light, highly effective against unholy and daemonic beings. Can also act as an impromptu torch)

Raise Barrier: Arcane (Made of pure energy, vice terraforming or utilizing surrounding natural elements)

Track Object: Living (Supplied with a piece of the target's body, such as hair or fingers, he can glean a general direction in which the target fled. The fresher the sample, the more effective and accurate the tracking is. Only works on targets alive at the time of casting.)

Other: Taskmage Atreides appears to be blind in his right eye, even without the eyepatch covering it, and refuses to discuss the circumstances leading to this happening to anyone besides one specific person.

[User]
Vance found himself in a rather dense forest, teeming with all manner of beasties. He stood back by a trickling stream, his eyes catching those of a majestic buck that had to be as big as a horse, it's antlers seemingly to large to navigate through the woodland without getting caught. Yet, at the sound of talking nearby and the snapping of twigs, the glorious animal bolted, showing that those imposing antlers didn't hold him back at all. Vance smiled at the though, but quickly returned to his reserved guard as he focused more on the voices coming from around the bend.

There were several of them, possibly around four or five give or take, but it almost seemed as if these people didn't actually know each other. For a moment, the thought that this could be a robbery zipped in and out of his mind. It was urgent enough, the people talking were almost awkward in their discussion, rather than the apprehension one would expect in a robbing situation.

After getting a glimpse of the group, he was almost certain that these were other mercs or possibly even Imperium agents. He decided to wait for a moment before revealing himself.

[Assistant]
As various people showed up, Atreides slowly dropped his spell arm to his side, shifting his hands to his pockets vice his sword for now. It would be a matter of a second or two difference to draw his blade back out into a combat ready position. He kept a spell in mind for defensive purposes, just in case, but primarily let his partner do the talking, as she had done so already. Someone seemed to recognize both of them rather than just Crimson, which was odd considering he stuck to the shadows and generally was not one to stand out by choice. Of course, before he had much chance to get in a response in edgewise to any of them, Crimson had already started dragging him off, which he grumbled about under his breath.

Of course, the one lad seemed hellbent on following them, going on about some hyper lethal plant of one sort or another, and snorted, reacting to the man with his own comment. "And your so full of shit your eyes are brown. Unless whatever your babbling on about is a recent addition, last time I passed through Rivenwood, worse natural cause of death you could find here was a whore that's been around the block too many times. Now scurry along kid, before some wart plant jumps up to bite you in the ass."

Was it friendly? Hell no, but it wasn't intended to be friendly. He wasn't looking to be paid for friendly, and with Crimson dragging him along, he was not very pleased with the situation now that he was being hurried along at something other than his own pace.

[User]
This time it was Sable's turn to remain quiet as she let her partner handle the youth that continued to pester them with observations. Of course, she had realized that he was probably just wanting to mess with them, but frankly, they were on a schedule to keep. Well, no, not really, but Sable liked to think they were on one.

She paused in her walking to let Atreides have his fair share of bantering, not really paying attention to their conversation. Besides, something else had caught her focus, the low sound of heavy footprints quickly approaching them. Letting go of her partner's arm, she tensed, narrowing her eyes in the direction directly ahead of them.

Whatever it was, it was big…

"RE-Arch," Sable muttered, summoning her daggers in hand. Her instincts turned out to be accurate. No sooner did she arm herself than the culprit charge out of the forest clearing, aiming its body right for them.

It was huge, impossibly huge. White, blinded eyes seething with age and time gleamed from the darkness as the massive creature raced on all fours towards the trio.

It took the form of an immense, black bear, with fangs that were stained crimson by the blood of the curious. Patches of hair were torn and strewn about from its hide, and both girls could make out the shapes of twigs, knives, mud, and the earth that clung to the creature's mangled coat. Its left flank exuded a strange white color that contrasted with the thick, dark fur; upon closer inspection, Sable saw that half of the beast's ribcage exposed to the open air for all to bear witness.

But that wasn't the most interesting thing to her. As she leapt back from the rabid animal, she caught a glimpse of something shining in its left eye socket. Landing on a tree branch high above, she readied herself to jump back down and engage.

"Atreides."

The Taskmage would have known what she meant by the tone of her voice, slightly more excited than its usual drone.

A green amulet took the place of the bear's left eye. A Legend Relic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sun's departure into evening was lost to those traveling in Rivenwood, given that they had other things to worry about. Miles away from the massive forest lay the ruinous cities of Rexicorg, where the shadows ruled supreme.

The campfire that Yern was heading towards was indeed not expecting any strangers tonight. They themselves were nothing more than weary travelers, staring in fear at something that glimmering in the dark, shining brightly in the fire.

A stone as black as ebony. A black Legend Relic.

As the fire continued to crackle, something inhuman hissed in the shadows. It didn't take long for the travelers to hurriedly pack up their things and move somewhere else, preferably somewhere not so close to the ruins.

In the end, they chose to leave the black Relic behind. No payment was worth their untimely demise, and so the Relic shined without a mark in the flames. The hissing immediately ceased, its owner sensing another presence nearby.

Remaining silent, it retracted into the night, waiting and watching until Yern came into its view. The hunt was on.

[Assistant]
Mal's grin grew only wider at the man's response, "Oh, right. Maybe it was the eastern forests where those flowers were common…"

 He didn't have to be a genius to realize that the pair wasn't looking at him anymore. His ears twitched as he heard the heavy stomping of the beast emerging from the treeline. Mal's eyes caught the flash of silver that became knives at the girl's side. It was only as he heard her not-so-stale tone of voice that Mal finally clued into what was actually going on.

 While the bear in itself was an unnatural monstrosity, he managed to pick out the green glimmer that seemed foreign even to the magical creature.

 The immediacy at which she jumped into action only confirmed his suspicions. Their conversation thus far did not yield their reason for chasing after these relics, so Mal would have to work on the base assumption that they would simply sell the relics back to the Imperium for the high bounty.

 If these things were as powerful as the stories stated, then they could not fall into the hands of the manipulative Capitol.

 If they weren't planning on selling them, well, then he should at least try to help out.

"Well, I may be wrong about flowers, but I won't be wrong about myself."

 His hands gripped the chains on his belt as waves of black-red energy surged from his palms and coated the wrapped layers of chains.

"Snakes… Arise." He whispered. In a rush of wind, the chains uncoiled from around his waist, sending his hooded shirt into a blustery fury as the spiked chains rose to his eye level. Two spikes floated at the sides of his head as his hands remained gripped on the chain remaining around his waist.

 "Now then, aim for the legs. Tangle them as best you can."

 With the command, the two spikes rushed forward as he closed the distance so they could make their mark. Still the razor-sharp grin never left his face as he leaped into action.

[User]
After moving a small distance away from the beast, Megumi thought she heard voices. Voices that sounded like they were in combat. She began to wonder who else would be in a forest like this, and believed the answer to most likely be other mercenaries after the Legend Relics. If there was a fight happening, chances were that there was something either dangerous or valuable there, or perhaps even both. With that thought in mind, she sprinted towards the location of the fight, interested to see what was actually there.

As the voices grew louder, Megumi could actually see the fight now. There were a group of people using a variety of attacks on some sort of bear that was definitely too large and dangerous to be a normal bear. She also noticed someone outside the battle who seemed to be merely observing. Well, there was no one else she could ask. Walking up to Vance, Megumi poked him in the back of the head with her sheathed sword and asked, "What's going on over here?" in a friendly and playful tone.

[Assistant]
Atreides would have had an harsh, unpleasant line ready for the boy that insisted on following them if Crimson hadn't gotten his attention. The noise had him drawing his blade in time to see the bear roaring out of the woods after them. Worst, or best part, was it had a Legend Relic in its eye socket. Bad news, though, was it appeared undead to a degree, and was massive. That made it unlikely to go down easy, and a huge target. Partially good, partially bad then.

"Crimson, keep its attention. Hey, kiddie, try not to be a burden."

Flourishing the blade, he gestured with his offhand in a sharp, downwards direction and, with a muttered phrase, brought down a bolt of thunder onto the Bear. It was a basic spell, but it was highly effective for its basic cost and training. Stepping back to let the other two work, he knelt over his sword, tracing a series of runes over the blade while muttering loud enough to be heard.

"Educ flamma purgatio, ut labore et mercator decumbentem defricabitur mors ab hoc saeculo."

The sword exploded into searing flames, and Atreides rose, making a beeline towards the bear with the full intent of burning the thing to ashes now, conjuring a fireball in his off hand, intending to intimidate as much as destroy the damned bear and claim that eyesocket jewel of its. Money was calling, after all.


[System]
Alias: None
Age: Yes
Gender: Male
Species: Dragon
Occupation: That much varies, but some have humorously referred to him as a 'dragon dragoon'.
Residence: A mountain with its own hot spring inside of a cave.

S - 6
P - 6
E - 6
C - 4
I - 5
A - 8
L - 5

Physical Description: Use this as a basic reference.

You see this dragon man walking by and the first thing you notice - apart from the fact that he's a dragon - is that he is RIPPED. Under his attire, those gray scales of his are formed into the shape of an Olympian athlete. It's a taut form on this tall motherfucker, and it looks like he favors agility over strength, but he ain't lacking in either. Nothing particularly stand-out-ish about his body apart from that, though. Seems he looks after himself, even manages to keep relatively clean while living in the wild. His head has a rough-scale crest flanked by two thick-short horns that point back, and he has emerald-green eyes with rough, jagged iris slits. What you get the impression of - from the way he carries himself to the way he looks at you - that he is not simply man-sized dragon. He is a dragon walking as a man. More on this stuff later.

Personality: Ah yes...the mind of the dragon.

Endrokin is a fairly-straightforward sort of creature. He is generally blunt and vicious, and believes fully in the prowess and dignity of dragons to a fault. That fault is that he is Jingoistic. He finds other beings who are not of his kind to be...lesser. He doesn't automatically hate everything you are about, but you are not up to his standards, in general. You don't have the strength and endurance he has, you're not the warrior he is, and you don't have enough scales. Seriously, he is more concerned over a Kobold than a Human. It's just the way he sees things. And speaking of which, a number of his ways of thinking and modes of speech can be comparable to the popular Beast Wars character, Dinobot. He's a fighter, he's forceful, he can quip well and quip harshly, and of course...he has a temper. So, if you make a mistake when he's around, he will make you pay for it.

However, on top of all this, something else has been weighed upon his mind, and that is the splinters of history. The world is not known to him anymore. Things have changed, gone wrong. Those magic anomalies? They've caused him to have mental anomalies, thinking things are that aren't or never were, forgetting or just not knowing things that ARE and have always been. This world gone mad has done more than tear up the so-called tree of life, but uprooted it, and for him that has changed...much. He is not the dragon he was or necessarily will be, or at least he believes as much. What's in a belief now? He never prayed to any gods, but they were real enough. And now that they're gone...how much will remain real now?

Equipment/Cabilities: Things have changed in Endrokin, as things have changed in the world. He is a magic being, by nature, so...

Mythril Meld Armor - This full set of armor (no helmet) was once several items of notable quality. The abrupt tear from where he was to this place has caused a change, though. In place of many, there is one. The Mythril Meld is a sturdy piece of armor that has taken to pull free aether from the air to increase the return of spiritual energy after its use. The legs assist in jumping and other acrobatic maneuvers. The bracers accompany clawing and beating by hand with fire damage. Most of all, the draconic look of this armor has made it seem like second skin to Endrokin, meaning it does not inhibit him in action. It IS, however, sometimes susceptible to unstable magical fields.

Fang of All Ages - This is a special Adamantine Pole-Arm that was cast in a large and powerful forge with his own help to get it just right. Because the material it's composed of is more about being dense and armor-breaking than particularly magical, the energy fields did not alter it as it had his armor on the return trip. What trip? The trip that will be explained in History, of course. Still, this is just a well-balanced and highly-dangerous double-glaive weapon.

Runic Magic - As opposed to incantation, ki-manipulation, psyonics, or calling to your gods...Endrokin is practiced in certain types of rune inscription magic. That is, create the proper rune, charge it with energy, and make use of it as needed. His rune-based spells included Boosting/Lowering Traits, Detecting/Concealing Magic Auras, Environment Protection, and a Damage Field for people who touch him. The unstable magical fields will likely have some sort of effect on this, but it's difficult to predict. Like...someone might roll a die or something...

Dragon Form - We may have mentioned, but...Endrokin is a dragon. He's been walking around as a dragon MAN, but he is an actual DRAGON. It's all a long story about wars and god-level curses and so on, but the basic gist of it is that he can transform into a large flame-spewing winged dragon. Now, when he DOES, all of his items vanish and he cannot make use of them. This is a shame because his weapon is stronger than his teeth (in terms of density) and his armor is stronger than his scales. In certain ways, he's safer while in humanoid form. THIS form is for destruction and flying and overwhelming strength. Unstable magic fields can have strange effects on him, though, maybe unpredictable ones. Maybe they'll be good or maybe they'll be bad. It all depends. This was already brought about by the death of the gods, as is, so things might get weird...

History: A troubling time...

Things were different for him from the start. Endrokin's life was not as you'd expect, and here is why. He lived in a world that did not have big gigantic scaley dragons. They were people. And he did not live in a world of elves. They were dead, all of them. And the world? It had been at war for a thousand years. Endrokin was sometimes bounty hunter and sometimes mercenary. He'd seen his share of this war. He was raised for battle. He was made for conflict! However, he did not desire this war. His mentor - another dragon calling himself Rattigan Von Krauser - taught him to revel in victory, not mere chaotic bloodshed. All war must come to a purpose, to win! This war, however, was without end. At least, it had been...

That time was lost, though. You see, he and two others - Who were they? Who were they? - were put through a powerful act of Chronomancy, the alteration of time through the forces of magic. Sent back two years before the war began, Endrokin and the others embarked on a journey to change the course of history and prevent the war. However...here is where things get strange. Now, it IS possible for Chronomancy to exist, and a significantly powerful object may be used to conduit its effects onto others to send them back in time. At the point in which they went back, though, time split apart to many possibilities, allowing the world to be forever changed in so many ways.

Now, whatever your time theory is, the fact is that the world of the war became alterable or traversable to other worlds or futures, however you happen to look at it. As a result, the past Endrokin was in became connected to THIS future, or present. And because the death of the gods occurred - with dragons having been affected by a CURSE from the gods - when all magic went haywire, it reached back and SNAPPED him forwards, his curse shattering and affected all things magical that were on him at the time. The curse had been a punishment to all his kind for past acts of incredible brutality, but that had all changed now.

He emerged into the world, an unfamiliar world, changed. He was no longer limited to the humanoid form, but there was a drawback. The sudden travel forwards in time had caused his memory to fail him as he absorbed details from THIS world. It was like someone was writing all over the book of his life, splintering what he recognized and did not as surely as the curse itself was broken. Now, he half-knows this world and half does not. The only things he is sure of is that he will fight and survive and be the glorious creature of the ages that he has always been.

[User]
She sat there. Her eyes were unfocused. Her mind was unfocused. Her shield was still strapped to her wrist, her axeblade embedded three inches into the table. The bartender hadn't complained. Glasses were piled around her, but she didn't feel drunk. How long was it since she had last slept? Did it matter? Did anything matter? She wanted to cry. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to do something, but instead lethargy clung to her, forcing her to pick the glass up and knock back another drink- another that she had lost count of, another that she did not think she would pay.

She needed to do something.

She needed to do something.

So she laughed. It wasn't a pleasant laugh. It wasn't a 'quaint' or 'nice,' or 'happy' or 'joyous' or 'mirthful' or 'drunken' or 'terrified' or any other thousand things. It was a laugh that started as a shriek and ended in one, earning her attention for the briefest of seconds before patrons wisely went back to drinking rather than facing the deranged woman of the church.

There was a man. Her stupor had blocked him from her mind, but there was a man. Standing up, she turned towards him, arm locked with that of a filthy, beast in the form of a green-skinned man. She grunted under her breath, and realised that in that moment she was no better than that beast. She reached for her axe's handle, grabbed onto it. Tugged at it. It wouldn't come loose. She snarled at the inanimate object. She grabbed onto it more firmly, and then she gripped it as hard as she could, wrenching at it with the sort of strength that a woman was not meant to have inside of her. The damned axeblade still would not budge.

She would have to put more effort in. Grabbing the handle with a different grip, she brought the table crashing down to the floor. A plate-shod boot slammed into the wood, and she strained her back to yank it out, working it back and forth through the wood. The bartender moved to stop her, but then it freed itself, the paladin finding herself flat on her arse but with her weapon in her hand once more. "YES!" She said, jubilant for a reason she could not recall. What was she doing? Yes, the man.

Turning, more rotating on her feet, the alcohol hit her at once. A cartful of crates crashing comfortably down upon her cranium. She stumbled, almost toppled like a tree struck for the second-to-last time, but kept herself standing through some feat of witchcraft she herself could not comprehend. She walked to the man, boots hitting the ground, and noted that another talking to him was a priest. Perhaps. The symbol spoke wonders.

She placed her hand, still with the shield on it, on the priest's shoulder, letting out another banshee's laugh. "You and me! We had eyes that are now gouged! We could see! We could laugh, we could love!" She shrieked at the top of her voice, her mirth so great that the alcohol finally dealt the toppling blow, and she fell on her rear once more, head slamming against the front of the bar. She had a stronger head than that though, to be so casually dispatched.

Her shield thumped against the stone flagstones of the tavern as she stood. The man that was offering a job. She stood uncomfortably close to him, her face so close that a lover might wonder if she was going for a kiss, but she wasn't. "Work, you offer?"

[Assistant]
He instantly regretted his decision to say that he was still hiring. The stench of alcohol was permeated within the tavern, but this one woman seemed to be far more intoxicated than Numenar could have hoped to ever be, concluded Urdal as he pulled back a tad. This was definitively not what he had, proverbially, signed up for. She was a woman that had once served the Gods. No idea as to which God it had been, as there were no definitive features he could recognize, although he was not well versed in those matters.

"Yes, work!" He quipped weakly, trying his best not to breathe in again, at least not while as close to her as he was. What with the orc standing to the left of him, the frame of the nonexistent door of the corridor behind him, and her obstructing his front and right. A gulp preceded his attempts to pull away from the woman without making her feel too unwanted or disliked. He threw a glance to Orky and mouthed 'help me'.

[User]
The creature had been emptying the last of his drink into his mouth and closing his rather-impressive jaws as an interloper drew his attention. Yes, interloper, because he had not intended to take any callers at this moment to his being. He was trying to relax his body and mind after the arduous journey in from...wherever. The man - the priest - would find the dragon's bulk turning and inclining the head in his direction. It was somewhat slow and deliberate, as if to say 'Is this really how you intend things?'. The man had called him unnatural, and then he seemed to think that 'smell' was the best way to describe his basis for saying so. The dragon in humanoid form lowered his eyelids slightly, beginning to stare at him like a crocodile would to something wholey uninteresting.

"You talk of smell to me, with so little a nose? Don't make me laugh. I'm as natural as the setting sun."

This wasn't an argument. He was stating it as though definitive fact, as though he were telling some foolish human the way of the world. And as far as he knew, that was how it was. He was sure of that much. Dragons were ancient and powerful beings, forged from creation itself. Of that, he was almost certain. Just then, there was a thump against the bar, the telltale sound of an armored figure hitting the thing. The dragon rounded on the figure, shouting!

"Marak, will you watch what you're...!"

He stopped. It was a paladin, but it wasn't him. It wasn't even ANY him. It was a woman and the markings were wrong, anyway. He'd been expecting another figure, a man of another order who had one eye and never slept. The dragon clenched his teeth, then put his tankard down on the counter with a growl.

"It's a banner day. I'm going to need another drink."


[System]
Age: 16 (going on 17)
Personality: She's tough, mean (especially to Slicks), stubborn, and ruthless. But, that's just on the outside. On the inside she's just a big softy who would rather do things in a non violent way. She also cares very deeply about her looks. If her hair isn't perfect she won't go out anywhere. (Curly hair is hard to deal with)

Bio: She was born to a rich family. She has 7 older brothers (and one lazy cat), her being the youngest. All of them give her a tough time for being the youngest. But they all still love her the same. She gets into trouble very often, so they all decided to teach her how to fight. Or at least enough to defend herself.

Ever since she was little, she was treated more like a boy than a girl. Dressing up in pants than skirts, wearing her brothers' hand-me downs, hanging out with guys instead of girls, etc. Even though she was raised around tough brothers, her softer side is full of love for music.

Her dream was to become a pianist. Her parents refused to let her play piano. They wanted her to work in the family business. (A chain of diners throughout the state) She had used her allowance to sneak off and hire a tutor to teach her late at night. Her brothers do quite a good job of keeping cover for her.

Her brothers names (from oldest to youngest):
Lenny
Charlie
Antonio
Oliver
Andy
Jacob
Wilson

Her personality says slick, but she's really a royal.

[User]
Corrine nearly fell asleep in her seat. Everyone's voice so so monotone and bland. She couldn't figure out how people could be so unhappy. She figured it would be a rather boring day.

Corrine's head perked up when she heard the sheriff's voice. She had never met him before or even seen him around. She didn't see many police officers either. Corrine had heard about the incident with tires but didn't think it would get too bad. She didn't quite understand what was going on but she decided to listen in for once.

[Assistant]
"Unfortunately, in light of these menacing antics, the city council has begun to consider placing a curfew on the youth of the town. That means that anyone under the age of eighteen who's caught on the streets after dark will be taken into the station. Once there they will then be charged with disorderly conduct." continued the sheriff.

Almost in unison the entire student body of Salt Bay High collectively raged in protest. Shouts of accusations of fascism and various swear words were issued from random students throughout the hall. Try as they might, the teachers couldn't console them. One student even called the sheriff a pig and a mutha fucka. That student was promptly removed from the hall by a very angry teacher though. The general murmur of the crowd was even louder than it was before. So loud that not even Principal Stern could be heard. Those in the front row could see a vein popping out of the side of his head. The sheriff himself though, calmly assessed the situation. He realised that the crowd has just received some rather shocking news. Perhaps, he surmised, it would've been more prudent to wait for the commotion to die down a little. But seeing as how he was dealing with high school students, that didn't seem likely. The sheriff knew all too well that if you gave a teenager an inch, they would take a mile. And so he decided to contain the situation the only way he knew how.

"SHUT THE HELL UP YOU MAGGOTS! shouted Sheriff Waxley. The ferocity he gained from his days as a commanding officer on the front line served him well when it came to crowd control. The assembly quickly fell silent.

"That's better. Now don't y'all fret now ya hear? Because the city council doesn't have the power to pass such a motion on a mere whim. They have to put it through a ballot first. So ya'll better be on your best behaviour now. That is, if you want to keep your night time privileges. The motion goes to ballot at the end of the month. I hope I've given y'all a lot to think about." explained the sheriff.

Almost at once the murmur erupted once more. This time around, it was a lot less tense. Many of the students felt that the city council didn't have the balls to go through with such a measure. Others though, were slightly more pessimistic about the whole situation. Both Rolo and Switch felt way too tense to say anything. Chets head spun from the anxiety he was experiencing at the time. All Divo himself could do was feel forlorn.

"Shit" he said quietly to himself once more.

[User]
Corrine sat near the tulips during her break, sandwich in hand, still pouting about the possible curfew. She thought she had escaped the curfew her father placed on her back in Caramel Cove. Now she has to go through it again? That just wasn't fair!

A few minutes later, Spoon and Ralphie came walking by, noticing Corrine's angry, albeit cute angry face. Ralphie couldn't help but smile.

"Hey Corrine! What's with the frown?" Ralphie asked.

"Oh, hi Ralphie! Just mad about the curfew that might be implemented. I hate it..." Corrine pouted. She crossed her arms and gave a big huff.

Ralphie couldn't help but laugh. "You're so cute! Even when you're mad you make everyone smile!" They grab Corrines cheeks and squish them, cooing at her doll like face.

"Hey! Cut that out! Let me go!" She whined. She was used to it but it still annoyed her.

"Aw, ok. I'll stop. But yeah, I'm a little upset at the curfew." Ralphie continued.

Spoon grunted. "Oh, Spoon is mad too. We won't be able to hang out on the beach anymore." Ralphie translated. "Let's just be on our best behavior until it passes." Ralphie and Spoon sit next to Corrine, chatting about the new curfew until the bell rang.

[Assistant]
"What the shit dude!?" exclaimed Switch.

"Yeah! I mean everythings fucked now!" declared Divo.

"Everything is not fucked now Divo. Just chill the fuck out alright. We've been through worse." placated Chet.

"Like what!?" asked Switch.

"Look the point is that we'll figure something out, we always do. The Salt Bay Turbos can rise above anything! And besides, it goes to ballot. It may not even pass." explained Chet.

"And what if it does!? The only reason why we are even working with that rich wiener is because of those mad shindigs! If this curfew happens then they ain't happenin no more ya dig!?" Divo voiced with frustration.

"Look guys, this ain't a bad thing. My plan is so close to bein...." Chet began before he was cut off.

"Oh here we go with this fuckin plan again! I'm beginin to think that Rolo was right, that you really don't know what you're doin. That your rich little wieners stooge. Maybe you don't got what it ta.... accused Switch before he too was cut off.

During Switchs tirade Chet finally lost his cool. Out of pure rage he decked Switch as hard as he could in the cheek with his right fist. Switch was then launched off of his feet and fell on his back. Luckily, he landed on a freshly tilled garden next to the parking lot. This softened that fall but the punch still hurt like hell. A few of the Salt Bay Turbos ran to Switch to help him onto his feet. Divo just stood there, looking completely and utterly shocked. He couldn't believe what he just saw. Sure, the boys roughhoused a bit every now and then, but this? Divo has been in more than a enough fights to know it when he saw one. This was more than just a fight, Divo surmised, this was a feud.

"If you don't think I should be leader anymore than take it from me! I fuckin dare you!" threatened Chet menacingly.

Switch merely looked at Chet with a mixture of shock and genuine hurt in his eyes. He had the look of someone who had just been betrayed by one of the few people in the world he trusted. He cupped his bruised and bleeding left cheek with his left hand. The shock of what just happened drowned out the pain, for the most part.

"B-b-boss? What the?" was all that Switch managed to say.

"Oh suck it up Peggy Sue! If you want to know what my plan was, then listen up!" announced Chet.

He stepped to the side of the scene and held his arms open, addressing the entire crew.We're going to destroy Charles Lancaster the douche once and for all! Cuz I've left a little surprise at his clubhouse on Saturday night! I scattered it all over the place where it can't be found! Once the police get in there with a sniffer dog then boom! Bye bye insufferable little shit weasel. But if he wants to not be someones little prison bitch, then he gots to do whatever the hell we want! Not only that, hes gots to give us whatever we ask. And you all know that that wiener has a lot!"

A murmur of confusion spread amongst the assembled crew of the Salt Bay Turbos.

"So what you're saying is that your plan was to extort Charles with blackmail, based on some lie that you made up!? A lie that is really really fucking serious!? Like big trouble type shit!? asked Divo incredulously.

"Think about it boys! That arrogant little asshole and pieces of shit like him are the reason why this school is so shit in the first place! Why everyone is so scared shitless of doing anything to stand out. Of doing anything to assert their individuality. Pieces of shit like Charles are the reason why Salt Bay High is a fucking prison! Seriously, fuck that guy!" raged Chet.

"I don't know man, I mean shit!" said Switch.

"Yeah dude, I didn't sign up for this shit. I just wanted to hang out and ride motorcycles and stuff." confessed Divo.

"I case you haven't been paying attention you little nub, we are the baddest gang in town! Guys like us always get what we want! And we are so close to gettin everything we ever wanted! If you're too chicken shit to support your brothers on the cusp of glory then you can just g...." lectured Chet.

"Alright! I get it! I'll shut up now." placated Divo.

"Well, as long as we get everything we want then I don't see a problem with it." admitted Switch.

A positive murmur arose amongst the rest of the crew at Switchs line of reasoning. It seemed that Chet was finally winning everyone back onto his side. His rage and anxiety began to subside.

"We'll go confront him after school and blackmail him then. That little wiener will be begging us for mercy. It's so close now boys! The muthafuckin bonanza!" announced Chet triumphantly.

"I beg to differ!" Charles announced as he approached the parking lot.

The shock of the arrival of Charles onto the scene was overshadowed by the Chets shocking revelation alongside the bitter, hateful violence amongst close friends. But still, everyone there was shocked all the same. During this whole fiasco, both Switch and Divo wished for the same thing. They wished that Rolo was there. Where was that big, lovable lug anyway, they wondered.

[User]
Ralphie and Spoon were sitting next to Corrine, waiting for the lunch line to shorten. All of them were gossiping about their past week at school and how things have been topsy-turvey since day one. Corrine took about if her tea sandwich and smiled.

"I like sitting alone with you guys! It's nice and quiet!" Corrine said.

"Heh, yeah... speaking of happy, you've been awfully happy lately. Like, more so than usual. Did something happen this weekend~?" Ralphie teased.

"N-no! Shut up, Ralphie... Corrine blushed.

Ralphie laughed. "So something did happen! So?! Did you go somewhere? Did you go on a date? Tell me!" They begged.

Spoon grunted happily while eating her bag of chips.

Corrine looked around nervously and sighed. She leaned in close and whispered, "Ok, you guys gotta keep this a secret. No one else but you can know since you're my best friends." The couple nod and listen in.

"So, I went to a party on Saturday. And... um... I kissed someone... his name is Rolo..." Spoon spat out her drink. Corrine kissed one of the toughest members of the Salt Bay Turbos?! She couldn't believe her ears. She really was with the Turbos after all. Or at least on their side.

Ralphie was in utter shock. "Oh my god! Really?!" he shouted. Corrine shushed him.

"SHHHH! No one can know! It's secret! You can't tell anyone!" Corrine pleaded.

Ralphie and Spoon excused themselves to go get their lunch. They still couldn't believe their ears. While Ralphie was sliding over to the these course for their lunch tray, they bumped into something rather... soft? With one look, Ralphie's face went pale. Spoon looked up and for once, she was terrified of someone else.

"S-S-S-Sorry!! I-I didn't mean to bump into you!" Ralphie stuttered.