[System]
* Age: 17
* Gender: Female
* Appearance:
* Personality: Shy and reserved, Fuyuko prefers to observe from a distance rather than actively participate in events. While polite, sometimes excessively so, such formality can be misinterpreted as coldness, and her timid personality doesn't help. Because she goes out of her way to avoid starting or aggravating conflicts, and doesn't like to fight other magical girls, some people wonder why she's even taking part in the Hex Night. The truth is, despite her usually gentle nature, she's no pushover. Just like a soft snowfall can become a fierce blizzard, Fuyuko goes all out to protect others, both from monsters and from more mundane causes of harm. The reason she signed up for the Hex Night is partly to fulfil her duty to prevent the creation of another beast, and partly because a wish could be the miracle her family needs.
* Skills: Knowledge of folktales and their various retellings, which could help magical girls with related concepts explore their abilities in more depth.
* Brief Backstory: Fuyuko grew up in a small mountain village, the elder of two sisters, with a father who owned a small bookshop and a mother who worked as a teacher. Considering her parents, it was no wonder that she had a thirst for knowledge from early childhood. Myths and legends in particular intrigued her, and she'd sit entranced as her father told her all manner of stories. As she grew, so did her fascination with folklore, her childlike curiosity and imagination never diminishing.

Of course, it turned out events weren't as easily resolved as they were in books. One night, something happened that the family would never have expected in such a quiet area; the store was broken into, and several rare books were stolen. Her father was never the same again after that. Struggling financially, his sense of security in tatters, he withdrew into himself, turning to unhealthy coping techniques such as excessive drinking. This sparked many arguments between her parents, and all Fuyuko could do was try to protect her sister from the fallout, taking her for long nature walks and keeping her distracted with the same stories that served as her refuge.

In the early hours one morning, she lay in bed, unable to sleep for the unusually intense wave of hopelessness washing over her. She closed her eyes, trying to drift off, then opened them again to a sight that made her sit right up. A fairy? She had to be dreaming, yet the shock was all too real when the fairy pointed out something through the window, unveiling the world to her for what it was. Shadowy, monstrous beings gathered around the house like a pack of hungry wolves, seeking to drain away any positivity the family still had. When told by the mysterious visitor there was a way she could fend them off, Fuyuko accepted in desperation. With her newfound abilities as a magical girl, she succeeded in destroying most of the monsters and sending the rest fleeing.

Since then, she made sure to do her utmost to purify as many manifestations of darkness as possible, but no matter what she did, it never felt like enough. The struggles within her family continued, worsening over time despite people's efforts to help. It was hearing about the Hex Night that brought her a glimmer of hope. She signed up for the chance at the prize, a wish. In her case, a wish that her father would recover.

	+ Magical Girl Appearance:
	+ Concept: Yuki-Onna (snow spirit)
	+ Archetype: A foldable fan that she can use to whip up hailstorms and blasts of icy wind. The imagery on the fan is of a full moon over white-capped mountains, as it represents an Oguni folktale of a yuki-onna, a moon princess who descended to earth along with snow.
	+ Abilities:
* Frost Touch: By touching something or somebody, she can generate ice over a surface within a small radius. This can be used to partially freeze somebody in place, or to create weapons and armour of ice.
* Winter Mist: She can turn into a cloud of wispy cold mist to evade attacks. While almost immediate at first, the more often she does this within a short length of time (like the typical duration of a battle), the longer the shifting takes. If she's hit mid-evaporation, she gets injured as normal and instantly reforms.
* Vitality Absorb: When she activates this, glowing blue veins spread across her hand, which she rests on someone to slowly drain their strength and heal herself. This is interrupted as soon as contact is broken, so it's normally used to slightly weaken opponents rather than incapacitate them. It can also be reversed and used to heal allies at the cost of Fuyuko's own energy. Healing someone of a life-threatening injury would cause her to pass out.

[User]
❅❄ Fuyuko Yamazaki ❄❅

---

Fuyuko, no stranger to embarrassing incidents herself like that earlier series of blunders, gave an awkward smile of her own. "It's ok. You guessed right, at least."

Well, this confirmed it, she acknowledged with a sinking heart. Taking on her regular appearance didn't make her much less conspicuous. What if someone not quite so friendly as the armoured girl figured it out? Worse, what if they saw an ordinary girl on her way to or from a friend's place, and jumped to the wrong conclusion? Would the Hex Night, the very event supposed to protect people, end up causing them harm?

No, they wouldn't risk it, Fuyuko told herself. Everyone taking part knew the rules about secrecy, and about not endangering lives. These reassurances, no matter how much she mentally repeated them, failed to quell her fears.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she listened to the warrior's explanation. Someone spying on magical girls? Was the masked watcher connected to a Hex Night participant, keeping an eye on the competition for her? "They certainly gave off a creepy feeling," Fuyuko murmured. "They just stood there, staring. So still and quiet. Then, when I spoke to them, they fled into the forest."

Was it a good idea to go looking for the watcher? Considering the way her sister had reacted, probably not. Regardless, if the gauntlet wielder was set on seeking them out, Fuyuko wasn't going to stay behind. A potential threat to magical girls couldn't be ignored.

[Assistant]
Hanako

The girl was dumbfounded by the sudden change in tack, from explaining what the school project was actually about--though she was a bit surprised, it would seem odd to have an elementary school class go out and meet the shrine maiden one by one--to calling her a magical girl. Not that such an accusation made much sense, though she'd also been compared to a princess because of the hair. Needless to say, she didn't think the pair were being at all serious about the accusation.

"Um... but this is my natural hair colour... I know it's unusual but it doesn't mean anything..."

[User]
✫✫ Nico ✫✫

---

"Round 'em up...? Yeah... Yeah, that could work! Good thinking," Nico excitedly yelled back at her foxy companion. The cat-themed girl pushed away shade that had jumped onto her barrier, then jumped backwards away from the pack. She looked over her shoulder for a moment, up to the kitsune in the trees.

"I'll run them around, just get a cage going to funnel them into!"

Nico took stock of each shade that still remained standing. It looked to be about seven of them, give or take, but they were scattered. Getting them grouped harder wasn't going to be easy, but Nico didn't have much time to think about that as two of the shades jumped her again. She rolled to the side, catching something flickering blue off in the corner of Nico's eye.

(Over there!)

Nico put herself in the middle of each of the shades, provoking them to launch an all-out attack. The girl jumped away again, but kept facing the now-grouped shades to make sure they weren't scattering. "Come on then! You've got me outnumbered," she taunted them with a smirk, then turned tail and dashed away from them, towards where Nico had seen the blue flickering. A circle of fire had formed not too far away, only a single gap as the entrance. The girl ran right up to the inner edge of it, turning as if she'd cornered herself while the shades trickled in one by one.

"Got you!" Nico triumphantly exclaimed as the trap was shut behind the shades, closing the circular arena. Nico put all her strength into her legs and jumped up in the air, over the top of the shades, and turned mid-jump.

"Felid!"

A flurry of sparkles and claw slashes tore through the clutter of monsters all at once, Nico being bathed in the blue light of the raging flames around her. A couple of the shades were thrown back into the walls of the custom-made arena, burning them, while the rest were eradicated by Nico's own attack. Once the girl was done battling the shades she managed to just about land on her hands and knees, watching the blackened mist rise up and evaporate around her.

That didn't mean she was in the clear, though. Nico clamored up to her feet and searched for the purple-haired one while the cage of fire slowly fizzled out around her.

"There, happy?"

[Assistant]
"Hm, I see... in that case, I'm going to have to go and kick their ass," said the girl with the gauntlet, cracking her knuckles as she spoke, "Or at least give the creep a talking to, but I've got a feeling it won't be that easy, you know?"

She cocked her head towards Fuyuko. "I just got this really bad feeling when I saw them, the other girls I talked to said the same thing. There's something really wrong with whoever it is behind that mask."

She turned to leave, but then paused for a moment and turned to face Fuyuko once more.

"Oh, right, I'm Shining Fist!" declared the magical girl with a grin. It seemed like she switched between moods pretty quickly, given how fast she went from the angry to cheerful. "I know we're kinda-sorta enemies right now, but magical girls can be friends too, right?"

---

"No no, I'm not talking about that," insisted Hina, waving her hand as she spoke, "You know what I'm talking about!"

She pointed squarely at Hanako. After a few moments of silence, Chise decided to step in and explain.

"... There's no point in playing dumb," she said, flatly, "Hina-chan's concept lets her smell magic, like a doggy."

"Wan!" came an enthusiastic interjection for Hina, which earned her a brief look from Chise.

"We know you're a magical girl, onee-san," Chise continued, a serious expression crossing her face, "And both of us are too. We were trying to see if the miko was one, but we found you instead."

A small smile crossed her lips.

"Are you ready to take us on? You won't win."

Daze

---

The dust settled.

The shades were destroyed, each and every one of them torn apart. There was no risk of a single shade growing bloated on the power released by the destruction of its fellows.

Softly, slowly, the purple-haired magical girl brought her hands together and clapped. Her unfriendly grin was still worn on her lips.

"My my, you inefficiently slaughtered a swarm of garbage," she commented, her tone still considerably uncomplimentary, "However, your display was entertaining, I suppose. I shall give you the opportunity to contemplate my offer. However..."

She cocked her head.

"The outcome is the same no matter what decision you make: I will claim victory in the Hex Night, and there is nothing anyone can do to change that fact."

And with that, and a flash of purple light, the girl was gone.

@RoleplayerRoxas

[User]
The plan had went of without a hitch, much to the fox-eared girl's relief. Shades usually weren't too... y'know, bright, so they were weak against the almighty power of thinking, but it still meant letting Himeko's partner get up close with several enemies. Thankfully, she was more than capable of handling herself, and deftly eliminated them all with one, magnificent strike. Himeko couldn't help but clap when the Shades were finally gone.

It was too bad Kagami couldn't just let them relish the victory a little more. At least she had chosen to part ways after declaring her victory.

Himeko let out a long groan, once she was sure Kagami wasn't still lingering around. You really got all types of magical girls, evidently. The fox had to wonder if the local deity had cursed her with the worst kind of opponent - one with infinite arrogance and way more than enough power to justify that. There was still the matter of figuring out how to survive their next encounter, but for now, she should just enjoy the win with her pink new friend. The two-tailed magical girl stepped towards her with a bright smile.

"Now that it's just the two of us, let us introduce ourselves properly! I am a divine messenger of the gods, a fluffy maiden filled with love and hope~"
She gave a cheerful twirl, poised on one foot before pointing the pipe towards Nico with a bright smile, making a V-sign with her free hand and directing them towards her right eye, "My name is classified, but you can give me the cutest name a fox can have~"

She was already pushing Kagami out of her mind. Strong as that girl was, Himeko chose to believe someone like her could be toppled with numbers against her, so she could save that concern for later.

@Ammokkx

[Assistant]
Fuyuko's introduction was much more sedate. She bowed, her hair hanging in her face and partially obscuring it. "It's nice to meet you, Shining Fist," she replied in that soft voice. "I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself. Yamazaki, otherwise known as... uh, Fuyuko. No snappy magical girl title I'm afraid."

For all the other girl's friendliness, her astute observations put Fuyuko on edge. Kinda-sorta enemies... Not only had Shining Fist guessed right about her magical nature, she somehow knew they were soon-to-be rivals. Mere assumptions, or were there things the warrior wasn't letting on? Was someone spying on potential opponents for her? Could this someone even be the masked watcher, secretly an ally instead of an enemy?

The breath Fuyuko drew to inquire caught in her throat. If she asked, an explanation might ease her worries to some extent, and even if there was none, it would let on that she suspected something. The problem was, she'd also confirm her participation. "How..." she began. Such a simple question - How did you know we're enemies? - but the rest of the words wouldn't form.

"How, uh, should we go about this?" she asked instead, scurrying after Shining Fist. "I mean, this person sneaks up without a sound, and they move pretty quickly... Do you have a plan?"


[System]
Alias (if any): Smokey Bear, Samaritan

Age: 37

Faction: Normal

Personality: Teagan is a very calm. She gives off this Zen master aura and people usually expect her to talk in wisdom quotes. She is live-hardened, but managed to remain warm and gentle. She is a bit solitary by nature and might seem aloof at first, but once she warms up to you her demeanor changes. She used to be a bit of a daredevil in her younger years, but she has toned it down. However she would jump in danger without hesitation to help or to protect as is her nature. Those who get to know her very well discover some very unexpected characteristics to her.

Appearance: She's 5'8ish, medium build, fit and athletic. With jade green eyes and a rich mahogany hair, peppered with not few white and grayish hairs. At 37 and with her natural olive complexion she has visible crow's feet. She's got high cheekbones, a slightly crooked nose due to a nasty brake and her most favorite facial feature - two dimples. On her left wrist there is a see-through-the-skin type of tattoo representing the inner workings of her wrist and pinky finger in steampunk style. Her left eyebrow is bisected by a prominent scar as is her lower lip. The rest of her body is also peppered with scars, some small, some larger. Teagan prefers comfortable clothing and favors jeans, shirts, t-shirts, tank tops, sneakers, boots.

Background: Teagan was about seven years old when the world changed. At the time she was living with her parents, Martha and Rory Hayes, in her mother's country of origin. Which was located in Eastern Europe and Teagan doubted many people even knew it existed.

Her mother was a wildlife biologist and was doing a study on the indigenous fauna in the region and her father was a mountain rescue worker.

From a very young age Teagan learned to love nature and at the same time respect it. But after the Starburst reports started coming in about people with strange powers, freakish mutated animals and the likes and suddenly the world became quite dangerous for normal people. They stayed in her mother's country as long as they thought it safe and then started to move from place to place, trying their best to pick the safest region where to raise their child.

The constant moving from place to place, the turmoil in the world, the fights between Epics and Freaks, between good Epics and villainous Epics, her parents' love for nature and her father's constant desire to help people in peril molded young Teagan in the somewhat dare-devilish, brave and strangely shy young girl with a constant desire to help, a love and a healthy respect for nature.

When finally her family landed in the US, where it was relatively devoid of Epics and Freaks, young Teagan had the opportunity to pursue a career and a profession in a field that combined both her mother's love of nature and her father's desire to help people in danger. And so Teagan enlisted straight after colleague for training to become a Smokejumper. She poured all her youthful exuberance in her newly selected profession. She trained hard, studied as hard and worked even harder. The work was as rewarding as it was hard and harsh. She often wondered how people could be so careless as to unknowingly cause wildfires. She'd witnessed firsthand on numerous occasions how the nature she loved so dearly was destroyed in a flash.

This caused her to constantly volunteer to participate in awareness promotion programs, which was how she got her first nickname by her crew - Smokey Bear. She didn't mind it, because she knew it was used mostly with a tongue-in-cheek.

Being her father's daughter she was also SAR certified. On numerous occasions she would help her team, her partner or perfect strangers without even a thought of reward beyond a simple thank you, if even that. Her daredevil altruism in the line of duty and often even outside of it earned her her second nickname - Samaritan.

After the rise of the High and the establishment of Epic City Teagan urged her parents to relocate there, as she feared for their safety. Martha and Rory however refused to go without their daughter, and so the entire family picked up and moved, hopefully for the last time.

With her parents in relative safety within Epic City Teagan is in search of new opportunities, while also, in her free time, trying her hand out in something she'd always dreamed of doing. Writing.

[User]
Dragon turned, hands in his pockets. Spectrum had to stop from following his arms down, and met his eyes when he spoke. His gloriously clear blue eyes. "I was wondering where you went. I wanted to ask you something."

Be cool, be cool. "Oh?" Spectrum wondered for a moment what Alex would have done to show her interest. Would she have held his arm? Leaned closer to him? Rested her head on his shoulder? Spectrum took a deep breath, a half-confident smile that would have rendered him speechless doing little good behind the mask.

"Would you-"

A loud voice with unnatural reverberation sounded through the party. The few telepaths in the room doubled over, slapping their hands against their ears. <Evacuate Lower Central. Swarm rats spotted at the corner of Seventh and Ninth. Beware the Rat King.>

There was a single, infinite moment of silence.

Then it broke, and everyone began moving at once. "Boots on the ground at Clairvoyant-locale," the Chief shouted into a handset. Dragon tore off the tie he was wearing, leaned down and whispered into Spectrum's ear, "Find me later." Along with a few other Epics, he smashed through the windows, the shards melting into the ground and the shattered pane reforming under the High Island's influence. Spectrum ran to the window after him, watching him hit the ground, then come up running at a blurring pace.

"He's so cool," squeaked from under the helmet, before the gravity of the situation hit. Armour flaring blue, Spectrum sped to the foyer, then launched into the air. It was no easy task to keep up, but the problem was easily found; this wasn't a simple raid one or two Epics could quash.

The Swarm "rats" were nothing like the little mousy things in Spectrum's mother's encyclopedia. The grey fur and naked, pinkish tails were the same, but they more resembled gargoyles or goblins, their hunched heads split almost to the neck so their jaws could accommodate more needle-like teeth. Their short bodies were packed tightly with wiry muscle, their bent bodies equally capable of moving on two or four of their grasping, interchangeable limbs. Three of the horde boiling up from the sewers focused their pitiless shark-like eyes on Spectrum immediately.

Blasting the first three down with Pular Red shots, Spectrum flared a Protector White forcefield to stop their advance and clear room for other Epics. The Swarm rats thrust shards of stone at the barrier, as if using crude knives to try and slice it, but Spectrum's focus was stronger than their muscles, and the chips that flew from their attempts inflicted more bleeding injuries than any blast or punch Spectrum could throw.

[Assistant]
Previously...

The problem with being an invisible ghostman is that most people don't give a shit about you, because they can't see you. David was almost offended, but there was too much excitement afoot to worry about that now. Rats or some shit. That was exciting, right? Everyone else seemed to think so: they were all jumping out of magic windows and ripping off clothes and boy howdy, people were in a rush.

Well, it wasn't like he had much else to do. Phantom became visible again and soared upward past the roof. He waved smartly at his unconscious body up there, and took off toward...wherever everyone else was going. He saw Dragon Heart clearest, running at a literally neck-breaking speed across the city. Phantom followed as fast as he dared: too fast, and he wouldn't know when to stop. He could end up over the Atlantic before he realized how far he'd gone.

Too slow, and he'd be left behind. It was a class-A balancing act. One he wasn't very good at. Luckily the rats were huge and irritating, and Phantom could see their trail of chaos from his birds-eye view. This would be a good chance to test a few theories he had about the Phantom. He dove abruptly toward the ground, increasing in size as he came down. He hit the ground as large as he could make the Phantom, roughly the size of a small building. Three stories of phantasmal 'flesh' clipping through walls to settle on the street corner.

The Phantom exhaled, and the sound was magnified to represent his current size: a low rumble which shook the ground. He looked quite threatening, he was sure, but embarrassingly enough, that was all he could do.

David's Phantom Telekinesis was limited to exerting as much force as his physical body could, no matter what size his illusions were. He could throw punches at his current size, but the dispersion of the force along his huge arms would reduce the strength of his blows to gentle shoves. To really do damage, he would have to shrink down to smaller sizes.

But he could terrify these rat things: they were animals, weren't they? Animals like the rest of them: animals could feel fear. He swung his arms through the ground, right at the place where they would be popping out. The little bastards squealed and chittered. They didn't stop coming, unfortunately, but the ones that came out of the hole seemed nervous, woozy even. They swayed as they came forward, staring up at the monster above them with beady-eyed caution.

"Only a matter of time before they learn that I'm harmless," he mumbled. Wow, his voice was loud as hell.

[User]
Alex was the first to move upon hearing the warning. When I've never hears anything, and suddenly hears another voice in their head, and said voice is will known as the High Clairvoyant....

Well, you just act, Alex had learned years ago.

Before the Chief had said anything into the handset, before Dragon and Spectrum had left through the window, Alex had already stepped through her own doorway into her apartment.

 No time to change... was her first thought. She reached up and took  Resolution , her custom sword, from it's holding.

"It is time..." She muttered, stepping through another doorway and coming up behind Spectrum.

"Heads up!" Alex yelled, her eyes taking in the scene. "There's a lot of these bastards this time!"

A rat launched itself at her, and Alex swapped it with another facing away from her. Quickly she beheaded the beast, readying for more and to assist other Heroes where she could.

[Assistant]
James stirred in the corner, having only just gotten the shoes off his feet, unsteadily swaying as he rose. One too many drinks. He reflected sourly, regretting the rum and coke mixers he had ordered at the bar, a queasy feeling had settled over his stomach by the time he got the shirt over his head to be dumped unceremoniously on the floor. How many times had your uncles told you? "Never mix drinks." Bare chested he stood, choosing to keep his trousers on for now as he looked around, a telepathic message, or so he assumed, alerted everyone of a situation taking place away from the party, most, if not all the epics leaped at the opportunity to help, racing off to lend a hand.

James had done it almost instinctively himself, but taking the moment to stop and assess allowed him to clear his head a little, there had been a lot of epics in attendance here and surely not all would be needed, hell, he could probably get away with just playing a supportive roll in this scenario, no need to go full throttle and rush head first into the fray, he'd probably just tag along with one of the emergency crew and catch a lift out there. Nah, bugger that, I'll run. Now, one more drink before I go, for luck!. He thought, downing the contents of the nearest glass before calmly walking to the stairwell, letting those who rushed forward pass him by til he reached the foyer, slowly picking up into a light jog toward his destination.

His cheeks burned red from the drink and the night air, the hairs pricked on his arms at the cool caress she had to offer him, making a mental effort to drown out the sounds of sirens that blared past him on the road. Instead James focused in on the rhythm of his bare feet slapping against the pavement, the beat drumming in his ears as he steadily picked up speed, outpacing the non epics who had also gone on foot, and any epics too that weren't gifted with advanced athleticism. Breaking into a full blown sprint, the strength in his legs allowing him to move faster than your average fellow, James raced off toward trouble.

[User]
Teagan was by the Chief's side in a flash, stripping her tailcoat and tossing it in a vacant chair. "Chief, put me to work!" The man fixed her with a steely stare. Teagan didn't budge.

 "We'll be setting a perimeter." He finally relented. "We need to help move the civilians out of the fighting zone." They moved swiftly through the huge hall. Other rescue workers and leo's were doing the same. "Got a car?" The Chief asked.

 "Took a cab." Teagan shook, her head.

 "You'll ride with me." He jogged towards his personal vehicle and Teagan followed wordlessly.

 When they arrived at the scene Teagan was expecting to witness total chaos. And there were swats of people running full throttle in the opposite direction of the swarm rats' incursion. But there was already a rudimentary perimeter set up by the first Epics on the scene. The Chief floored the brakes and the two of them flew out of the car. The trunk popped open. "Take whatever you need from the trunk. You'll be helping the stragglers reach this line!" The Chief said.

 A dozen or so other cars were just pulling in. Men and women started flowing out of cars, trucks, cruisers. Police cars also started arriving on the scene. The Chief started barking his orders. Heavily armored police officers with shields started forming lines, while more light armored squads entered the outskirts of the fighting zone to help any civilians who hadn't managed to escape in time.

 The Chief's trunk was armed with a shotgun, a backup sidearm, a police baton and a taser, which Teagan took. His Kevlar vest wouldn't fit her, so Teagan left it behind. She found a flare gun, which she also pocketed. A female officer approached her and handed her a female Kevlar vest.

 "Chief's orders." She stated simply. "Put it on, we gotta move!"

 Teagan nodded, quickly strapping the vest.

 "Let's move out!" Someone shouted. "There's still civilians out there and they need help. Pair up and start sweeping. Don't take any unnecessary risks. Don't engage the rats if they're too many. Call for help."

 "Come on." The woman who'd handed her the vest said. "You're with me."

 Teagan nodded and an errant thought passed through her mind before she sprinted after her partner. Be safe, Traveler!


[System]
Title(s): Teacher of Mehmed II, Reclaimer of Constantinople
Gender: Male
Age: 626?
Alignment: Lawful Good
Rank: Brand
Objective for the Grail: To break past the stagnation he has been fighting for the past 300 years in his studies and magecraft.

Command Seal: Command Seal

Personality: Aksha is a patient man.

Bio: Once, the great poet, scholar, and teacher Hajji Bairam of Angora had a vision. That he would die, but he would leave behind many students who carried on his work. And so, he set out across the lands, and began to collect students. Those who were poor, weak, or tired. And he taught them as a scholar who sought only to guide them onto a path of self-improvement through worship and understanding. And he had one particular student... That student was Akshamsaddin, or Aksha. A boy with no known history, but who came to follow Hajji as his most devote follower.

But Hajji's following did not go unnoticed. The great Sultan Mudar II had been told that Hajji's order was a danger. Calling Hajji to the palace, the scholar brought with him only one student to vouch for him. That student was Aksha. It was there that Mudar saw that Hajji and his students were loyal men and scholars, and that they sought knowledge over war. But he had one particular question. Would he conquer Constantinople? And Hajji said... No. But then a vision overtook him. And he prophecized that while Mudar and Hajji would never live to see the walls fall, it would be on the hands of a baby, and that his student Aksha would be there by his side.

Realizing the importance of this vision, Mudar appointed Aksha as the student of his only then born son, Mehmed II. Aksha held great influence over the young child, and taught him in the ways of the world. Broadening his mind, and enlightening him in a way that would lead the young Mehmed II down the path he would follow later in life. The life, of Mehmed the Conqueror.

But while his student charted his own course, Aksha followed another and continued his research into the soul and how one may continue to collect all knowledge the world had to offer. And he deduced that it wasn't possible. But as he worked, he was greeted with the only vision he would ever receive, unlike his mentor that had many. In his vision, Aksha would stand with Mehmed II again. But it would be in a world he had not imagined, and it would not truly be him. But something else.

It would be his puppet that continued his work. His name, face, but not his soul. He would become the teacher not of others, but of himself. He set to tireless work, to discover how he might accomplish this. And in a fit of madness he came to one shocking revelation. That if all things are matter, then there must be something that cannot be seen. The matter by which sickness is carried. He concluded his realization with one knowledge. If a man may become sick and die, then could he not become sick with knowledge, and a new identity.

This became the basis for the magic he would use to 'survive' for over six hundred years. He created a virus with all this memories, his personality, and his appearance. This virus would be placed into willing hosts, and they would be overridden. Leaving only Aksha behind. He would continue his research that way, for many years to come.

And yet, as he passed from body to body, mystery and mysticism faded. It weakened. And he soon discovered that all he had sought to accomplish may not happen. Instead, he had hit a roadblock. One that he has been struggling with for nearly three hundred years. And suddenly... That vision, almost six hundred years old, came true. He was contacted to take part in a Holy Grail War. And taking a medallion that his student, Mehmed II, had given him... He summoned his servant for the upcoming war.

---

Number of Magic Circuits: B

Quality of Magic Circuits: B

---

Elemental Affinity: Wind, Fire / Origin: Guidance

Magecraft:
Sufism
The Mysticism of the Middle East, particularly under the guidance of the Ottoman Empire. Sufism is based around the seeking of knowledge, not through prayer, but by being active and never turning down a chance to learn something new. Sufism is a magecraft that focuses on the rapid accumulation of knowledge. Despite his many years though, Aksha has suffered a major degradation in his ability to acquire knowledge. Partially because Sufism is based around the soul...

Microbe Virus Craft
Aksha devised some of the first theories on the existence of microbes that we accept today. By using mystery surrounding microbes, Aksha developed a way to live forever, and to study forever. But the true Aksha is dead. He passed away long ago.
Instead, using microbes, he developed a virus of sort. A pre-programmed being that for all intents and purposes is Aksha. Taking over the body of a host, he takes over their body, and removing their identity. Tapping into their soul to make use of Sufism. Unfortunately, with the decline of Sufism, and the massive period of time he has spent taking over new bodies in this fashion, it has become nearly impossible for him to grow. Rather stagnating.
But, this magecraft has a fair share of benefits. He is not alone. Rather there are fifteen Aksha, currently traveling the world and attempting to learn from it. When all are together, they can act together to utilize Grand Rituals together, and operate together as separate, but connected. Able to remove or re-stablish their connections should the karmic lines that connect them be tampered with or severed.
It is only possible for Aksha to spread this virus to others, but only by touch, and if they are willing. It is possible to use it as a weapon. Touching another persona, and trying to take over their body. This unfortunately doesn't turn out well, as it can be compared to trying to run MsDos on Windows 10. Unless Arrangements are made ahead of time to make compatibility possible, the victim of this will die a horrible death as their body is torn apart by the invading Aksha, and the host's desire to remain in control. Aksha doesn't do this unless pressured, as he believes in the automation of others, and does not wish to impose himself upon them.

Offensive Magecraft
Utilizing Sufism, it is possible for those who study it to utilize attacks using magecraft. Though Sufism is based primarily around the reinforcement of the body as they focus on the accomplishment of a goal. Utilizing the Warm aspects of both Wind and Fire Elements, Aksha utilizes both the natures to transfer energy into his body. Primarily though physical contact. By absorbing kinetic energy, or using static forces to reinforce himself for close range combat, it is possible for Aksha to completely overwhelm a mage or other non-mage in physical hand to hand martial arts. As well as defending himself from ranged projectiles.
The combat stylings that best benefit Aksha's Sufism is a style of dance made offensive. As such it can seem at first glance like he is partaking in a ritual dance.

Crest: None

Weapon:
- Azoth Sword: A gift from one of his followers. Each of the fifteen carries an Azoth sword.
- Chest of Home: A chest made lighter through magic, the Chest of Home is a large wooden thing that is carried upon Aksha's back. When opened, it contains within it all the things he needs in his life. These things are not all that complicated, rather being a few candles, a rug, and other necessities. With it, Aksha can set up a ritual ground for a greater ritual anywhere. To garuntee that he is never without the things he needs. Simply put, it contains medicine, herbs, basic ready to eat meals, a few pots and pans, etc. Not for combat, but rather just the comforts on the move considering his travelers lifestyle.

[User]
[The Ottoman Empire Team] - Akshamsaddin at the Meeting

Aksha couldn't help but chuckle, as he had already taken a seat by the time Orson had asked him to. "Well, I admit I was overly zealous in summoning my student. I was already in Istanbul at the time, teaching others as a teacher should. As the individual I summoned was highly connected to Istanbul, I wanted to leverage the opportunity to guarantee the summoning of the exact individual I was looking for." He explained, hoping that would make clear why he had jumped the gun in the summoning process. He wasn't too sure why Orson disapproved of him, but the man from Turkey had spent many years of his life becoming a figure of controversy in certain parts of the world. Those of a certain magical circle were more than aware of his... Nature.

"Now, Mr. Anderson, was it? As for my magic, I am trained in a certain sect of Sufism. Particularly the kind taught to me by my own teacher, Hajji Bairam. You may be unfamiliar with the name. But I assure you, he was a very beloved man in his time." Simple and to the point, Aksha looked back at Anderson with a similar gaze. His eyes hidden by the mask, so that all Anderson could see was a whiteness staring back. "I expect that if you choose to come with us, then we shall have time to discuss the origins of my magical studies. I am no Solomon, but I have spent many years connecting magic to the very soul of mankind." He held out his hand, and waited for Anderson to shake. His grip was firm, surprisingly for a mage. Many would see mages as sheltered, but that clearly wasn't the case for Aksha. He had spent many years traveling the world for a reason.

"Now, Mr. Winchester, it is a pleasure to meet a fellow mage. Especially one who is preparing themselves for the upcoming Grail Wars. I would tell you my student's name... But he has just informed me that he would rather I not." There was a smile, only just visible enough. "He is rather eccentric, so I expect he is plotting to inform you all publicly of who he is in the most spectacular fashion possible upon your arrivals in Poland."

[Assistant] "Reverend Prichard Anderson is my official title. I am a 'hunting dog' of the holy church so to speak. Many of my brothers have lost their souls in this fight against plague spreading magisters. They seek magic that should not ever exist in polite society. Magic is meant to prosper mankind not subjugate it. I'm not interested in great power. I'm just doin' my job." Anderson told Aksha with a polite tone as his thought about the magic branch he told the group about. "Personally I prefer the name Constantinople but to each their own with their own heathen beliefs. It shall not prevent me from doin' my job. Though I must admit I have come across maybe...a handful of people who practiced that branch of magic you speak of. Its a dyin' art as long as it doesn't screw with the life of the people of Gaia I'm good with it." Anderson stated with a smirk. Leon wasn't sure what to make of all of this he was a simple boy with a simple life. He didn't know of all these grand cities he was raised in the middle of nowhere middle America so in the end it was just conjecture. Istanbul sounded familiar though not very. "I'm afraid to disappoint you my father was the one they requested to become a master. I'm just a fill in. Father holds a distaste for the tower but I want to prove myself on my own merits outside his shadow. I'm here to make myself known. I'm sure I'll meet your student soon enough I'm sure its all a matter of time."

[User]
Whilst the earlier birds were already conversing, a regal-looking woman paced through the halls of the clocktower. It had been some time since she was last here, but she remembered the way well enough. Her red dress swayed elegantly with every step, and the flame pattern seemed to flow almost like real fire with her every movement. Occasionally she'd pass a student, which then stepped aside, or stopped and stared if they were a particularly brave soul. Of course, in the same way there were also those who believed their own heritage to be better than hers, but those were met with little but a chuckle as the woman moved on. After all, there was something more important she had to attend to.

Soon enough, the woman arrived at the office, knocked on the door and waited for a response. While she'd love to simply step right in and demand the reasoning for her summons; it would be unbecoming of her. Once her signal was given, the door opened wide and the woman entered. After a quick inspection, the woman realized she didn't actually recognize most of these people, and closed the door with a sense of curiosity prodding at the back of her mind. In turn, she gave each person a slight bow, -barely more than a nod- and placed herself on the nearest free chair.

"My apologies for being a little late, there was a minor incident with the family I needed to resolve. I hope you can overlook my tardiness, I assure you it was a matter of utmost importance." And not a word of that was a lie. After all, had it not been important, she wouldn't have gotten involved... Still, it was rather frustrating that it had to be today, of all days.

[Assistant] "It is fine. The fact that you're here at least leads credence to the fact that you're serious about this. Considering the current situation I'm fine with people being a few minutes late." commented Director Orson as he nodded at the new comer. "Everyone this is Joan-Mary Bernard, and she will also be a master. Joan this is Leon Winchester, Reverend Anderson, and Aksha. They are all here to participate in the Holy Grail War just like you...of course as a team. None of them are directly related to the situation that I have gathered you here to take care of." Orson stated as Leon nodded. "We all have a job to do, we need to fulfill it to the best of our abilities. I may be inexperienced with the world at large. But I'm not weak but I have my concerns is this all we have with us?" questioned Leon as Orson shook his head, "This is not everyone but we have possible other suitable subjects to fill the gaps if the others don't arrive." Orson assured Leon. For his own part Leon fidgeted in place for a moment before accepting that statement. "I'd like to start the meeting as soon as possible but I understand the need to wait The more people we have the better equipped we are."

[User]
[The Ottoman Empire Team] - Akshamsaddin at the Meeting

"I do prefer Constantinople myself, but nobody else calls it that these days. How easily people forget a history." Aksha sighed out loudly, tapping his fingers against his chair. But that silence didn't last long before a third master joined the group, and that masked man smiled.

"I would not call you late. Rather you are early. The war has not begun yet, so lateness would imply you had missed the war altogether." Aksha said, saluting the woman as she entered. "My full name is Akshamsaddin, but Aksha does well enough. Do you have a shorter name of your own, or must I refer to you only as Joan-Mary Bernard?" He was rather polite, and while he couldn't speak for the others, he was being as welcoming as possible.


[System]
Vis Starkweather

Appearance:
Vis stands at 6ft 4 inches tall and weighs 170Ibs, his figure would be classed as lanky though he has enough muscle mass to avoid that (but not enough to be called muscular), his skin is pale but not too pale, it is comparable to milk. He has snow white, pigmentless hair, courtesy of his father, which he generally has slicked back, the color of his right eye is a deep, electric blue, his left eye is a bright green (this one is blind as it was struck with a curse. He has a slim head with rounded features, not the sharp features of his elven father, though he does have the elven ears even though the left one is in tatters, hanging limpy to the side. On the lower left side of his face he is missing the skin and flesh of his jaw and lower cheek, exposing his gums and teeth, this occured from the same accident as the one that ruined his ear, a cross bolt that narrowly missed destroying his life, he covers up the facial scar with a black scarf.

Race: Half-Elf
Class: Rogue

Main-Hand Weapon: Iron Rapier
Off-Hand Weapon: Slim Iron Dagger
Secondary Weapon: Knuckle Dusters

Armor:
When he is not traveling or not engaged in anything that could end his life, he wears a white puffy shirt, with long sleeves and buttons down the front, as for legs he wears grey trousers and a pair of black leather boots, the scarf around his face doesn't go unless he's in private. When he is traveling however he does wear armor, a set of grey leather armor with azure highlights in the place of tassels and the odd leather plate, the armor has a fur neckline and full segmented leather arms and legs. He always has his sword by his side.

Powers: Not Magically Inclined.

Skills: He has turned the simple act of stealth into an art, having mastered the shadows and the ways to be at one with them; he can hide like no other, may it be active or in plain sight, if he doesn't want you to see him, he won't be seen. Another skill that he possesses is the ability to climb and scale natural and unnatural surfaces, though he much prefers to climb buildings and other structures because he feels more at ease with them. And the final skill of note is that he is streetwise, using his logic and intuition to find who, what or where he wants to find, he can build an interactive map of the city around him, using key figures and places as guides to finding things, picking up on things most wouldn't notice.

Weaknesses: One of his major flaws is that, though he can dodge hits very well, he can only get hit a few times before he is down for the count. His slighter than average frame and and lack of heavy armor don't exactly help and his sword isn't the best for attacking heavily armored opponents. Another one of his flaws is that he's not precisely a people's person, it's not because he doesn't like to interact but because he feels that he can't do it due to his horrible lisping and bad temperament when people refer to the scarf that is constantly around his neck. On his left side he has sensory underload, he's completely blind and partially deaf, one caused by a witch's curse (the witch is now dead) and a crossbow bolt (like the witch, his assailant is dead), his inability to hear and see on the left side doesn't help when he's fighting in a croud or when he's trying to be perceptive (but he manages well). His cursed, green left eye glows in the dark, though this helps when he wants to see in the dark, projecting a cone of soft green light, when he is trying to hide, he needs to close it and cover it with a hand (he only has two and he'd rather have use of both).

Personality:
He has a rather quiet demeanor, not because he is shy but because he despises the way he sounds due to the hole in his mouth, though he still does prefer to listen because there is more to gain by doing so. He doesn't like arguments, usually finding a way to dodge them, usually elegantly but when that doesn't work he's not afraid to fight, though he usually doesn't raise his sword offensively. Vis is very fond of books, though his reading skills are weak he finds great pleasure in trying to desipher the ink; he is not the most intelligent, he can't tell you how magic works, or guess the mass of a brick by the light it reflects but he is crafty and cunning, able to put two and two together faster than most. Before he says things he tries to stop and thinks for a while to make sure what he's saying is right, he us cautious not wanting or willing to make mistakes if it will put him or the people he cares about in less then comfortable conditions.
Background:
He was the child of a human and an elf, his mother and father respectively. His mother was a baker's assistant in the kitchen of some duke who ran the area, she would go to the castle kitchen every morning at around dawn and returned every night after the sun had set, she wasn't happy with her job but the money was good so she stayed. However one autumn day she suddenly didn't dislike her job as much, there was a visit by a group of royal dignitaries, they must have been high up because they had a whole host of guards and courtiers with them, she knew because she had to back so much more bread and pastries but that is irrelevant. One evening she was taking some roles over to the dinner table where more were asked for, when she bumped into one of the guard, literally bumping into him and spilling all the roles onto the floor, however that wasn't on her mind at that moment, what was on her mind was the handsome elven guard she bumped into and likewise she was on his. That was the start of their romance, they spent evenings together and days eyeing eachother from across rooms and halls as they passed eachother, during this autumn Vis was conceived and by the time his father had to leave (he had to stay with the royal group because the winter had become too harsh to travel) he was born. However Vis had only seen his father by the time he was 6, he had to leave once the weather had cleared, which was a few days before Vis was born. He had made an instant connection with his father and visa versa, his father had decided to leave the employment of his former masters and become the head of guard of the duke's castle, with his baker's assistant wife. His father had taught him many things through his youth, primarly how to use a sword but other things as well, like how to skin a cat, however the one thing that he wasn't taught was how to read or write, he picked some of that up himself and it hasn't improved yet, most likely it's worse.
By the time he was a young man, he started getting restless, wanting to go out and see the world instead of being an assisstant to an assisstant baker. His parents told him time and time again to reconsider but Vis was too stubborn, and his father noticed this stubbornness as his own, the elf allowed him to go under one condition, that he was to practice his reading and send them letters. Vis agreed, rather too quickly, forgetting that he was horrible at both reading and writing, so he set off and had many adventures, most of them ending badly, some of them ending horribly and abruptly with an injury. But he adventured on undeterred, half blind, hard at hearing and with a hole in his maw.
Other:

Vis' Companion
Age: 9 or 10

Appearance: Kat is a spindly girl of around 5'2", weighing not much more then a sack of flour. Her slim body boasts no fat and little muscle, though she is full enough to avoid the shape of her bones coming through her skin. She has fair skin, lightly dusted by the rays of the sun and with faded freckles peppered across her cheeks and nose. Her face is small and clustered around a small area, she has a small nose and wide lips that are naturally red, with a protruding chin and large ears to fram her head. Her hair is long and flat, rough to the touch and rolls to the small of her back, it is dull copper in color, with subdued tones of richer reds, browns and auburns. Her eyes hazel, though mostly green have flecks of brown, gold and blue in them. On her left hand, the pinky and the ring finger up to the middle are missing, her forearms are also speckled with black burn marks and small scars.

Race: Human (Of the Ginger variety)
Class: None, at the moment...

Clothes: Kat where's on her head a tightly wrapped white linen bandana, it conceals everything above her hairline and ends at the back of her head with a tightly wound bun, all her hair is concealed; she often takes it off and uses it as a scarf though, when she is not working. On her body she wears a grey woolen poncho over a lime green tunic, covering her legs with a leather skirt that goes down to the base of her ankles; on her feet she wears black boots and instead od socks a pair of white leggings made of close fitting cotton. On her hands she wears fingerless gloves that are open at the top and secured around her wrist by a strap and a button.

Weapon: Nothing (Vis' Dagger in due time)

Skills: One of her skills is climbing, though she is fairly new to it, she can climb fairly well but at a slow pace compared to Vis, she often uses her skills at climbing to explore or hide from someone or thing. Another of her skills is that she knows how to cook, often sticking to recipes she knows but still willing to try something new, though most people would not really care about cooking, when on the road good cooking can make a long journey bearable. Hiding, a mixture of her small size and ability to be very quiet, she can become invisible, helped by the neutral color of her visible clothing.

Weaknesses: She is completely illiterate, not even knowing how to write or read her name. This is a problem when it comes to bring on the road, as she can't read signs or maps. She reacts badly to critiscm or negative situations, often yelling and crying and being a roucus child. She can't keep her mouth shut and often talks at inopportune times, saying things she shouldn't say or at the wrong moment, often speaking her mind instead of keeping it there. Doesn't know how to control anger very well, often vents it as tears or yelling and punching.

Personality: Kat is a rather brash individual, often blurting out and avoiding general manners like thanking people and asking politely, often being rather blunt and indifferent to people's opinions. When not at work at the bakery, she often finds herself getting into trouble, often finding her way into "adventures" that she shouldn't be partaking in. Though her attitude is rough, she has some kindness to her, not knowing when far is but understanding when too far is and realizing when to back off and when to approach with an (awkward) gentles hand. Kat is also a fairly curious person, often asking things she shouldn't and getting into situations that could otherwise be avoided with s level head, not saying she thick. She had the ability to pick things up quickly, it's just that she's not given the opportunity to try often.

Background: Kat was born in the spring, on the morning of last frost, her mother was a baker and her father a forester. From a young age, her parents struggled to get her affection and this struggle developed into a heated fight for Kat's heart. This ultimately tore the marriage apart, the end signaled by the father running off in the middle of the night and taking Kat with him. She was relatively calm with the situation and lived with her father, until he was killed by a bunch of thugs for not being able to pay back some debt. Her neighbors helped her get back to her mother,  and it appeared that all was smooth sailing, working at the bakery. That is until the attack...

[User]
Alula kept quiet, looking over at the group from behind Carver. Yes. She had found herself in quite a strange situation. Why had she agreed to go on some adventure with a bunch of strangers? She pulled the brim of her hat over her eyes, trying to concentrate. She could hear the punching man agreeing to let the other girl into the group. She was a strange one as well, but she radiated a compelling strength like no other. She took a step further behind Carver as the punching man approached her, as if taking cover behind the man.

She muttered softly, her voice slurring and eyes glowing from beneath her hat. "Only a life lived for others is a life worth while."

She felt a bit worried when the punching man came over and asked if anyone had any supplies or a destination in mind. The man was gathering people for some sort of adventure and didn't have a plan? She held back a sigh, knowing she would have to learn to trust the others around her. This would truly be a group effort, and as someone who survived on her own for so long she was afraid.

Alula had a puzzled look on her face under her hat. Supplies? Why was she thinking of supplies? Did she have supplies? Does she even need to eat? A voice confirmed for her, yes you do eat occasionally. She blinked hazily, holding up her heavy coin purse.

"I have...uh...supplies..." She sounded confused.

[Assistant]
Carver caught the woman's gaze and held it as she joined the group. Then she knew. He knew, she knew, he knew she knew, she knew he knew, and she had better know he knew she knew. Of course, that still left the matter of what exactly he knew, but that could come later. If the woman was aware that the Paladin knew what she was, perhaps she'd be on her best behavior. That'd be enough for now.

Alula stepped behind him, as though concealing herself from the rest of the group. That fear wasn't ideal, but it was to be expected. The girl would be joining them - Carver was sure she'd come around to them later.

"Ah. Supplies. Let's see!" Carver took his pack and began rooting around inside it. "I have... ten gold coins, not bad... this looks like a crust of bread... and, um, a rock." Carver tossed the stone out of his bag and slung it back over his shoulder, smiling sheepishly. "Uh... sorry, I won't be much help on that front. Sounds like Alula might, though. And I imagine that the traditional method of 'asking the barkeeper for rumours' has been ruled out?"

The paladin grinned at his own jest and looked to his party for direction.

[User]
Vis raised his voice, "I belief thath we should pool thome coin to buy thupplies for all uf uth." they shouldn't be depending on individual supplies, some most likely didn't have any, Vis supposed, him only having 60 coins, a set of stag antlers and a child's enyclopedia. He took a long hard look at his group, casting green light on every member to scrutinize them, they had a paladin, a sword puncher, a gnome, a rather curvaceous woman and another woman who looked a bit out of it; he could tell that the adventure was going to be something. "Leth all chip in thome coin and buy rathions, things thath will latht a while. Green appleth, hard loafths of bread, dried meath." he had been on the road for a long time and understood what to bring and what not to bring, from personal experience of finding that all the food had rotted in his bag. "And wather thacks."

Vis whinced internally, every time he lisped.


[System]
* Age: 20
* Gender: Female
* Appearance: "Hmph. Just wait and see what this witch can do." A very petite girl, easily mistaken for a child even on close examination. She resents this.
* Abilities: A highly capable witch, from a bloodline of magic users lasting back to the ancient king's times. Fio's catalyst is a sword, with a slender and elegant blade and a blue and gold hilt. She cannot fight reliably with it, but it is an excellent catalyst for casting spells all the same. Her chief method of offense is the conjuration of Phantom Swords, though she can use other forms of magic she favors Phantom Swords for her most direct and powerful method of dealing damage, as the Phantom Swords have considerable armor-piercing capabilities even in their base state when fired as projectiles. Her personal durability is quite low, and thus Fio also has capability in barrier spells in order to protect herself from being harmed. By casting a spell and attaching modifiers to it(such as summoning a number of Phantom Swords then adding commands to repeat the process to add more swords) she can alter it or increase its effects.
Additionally, she possesses three doll familiars. These familiars are intelligent and have their own personalities, feelings, and specialities.
* History: Fio's family has practiced magic for a considerable amount of time. It is said that she is descended from a court mage of the Ancient King, and her sword catalyst was a gift to her ancestor that has been passed down through the generations to her. Living in a secluded place, a small but remarkably cozy home, she swiftly gained a reputation as a witch due to her rather irritable interactions with travelers and her rather obvious usage of magic. Given her unique usage of a sword as her catalyst, she has been called both the Sword Witch. Needless to say, given her family history, it was only obvious that she would come to accompany one claiming to be a reincarnation of the King, if only out of curiosity. Can she really be what she claims to be?
* Anything else: Fio is a rather irritable girl who does not tolerate foolishness. While she hates being mistaken for a child, she has childish mannerisms such as a love of sweet things and a fascination with dolls and small, cute animals. Regardless, she is still a capable practioner of magic and will quickly remind anyone in doubt over her abilities of that fact. Personally, she is not at all certain if Sorcha is what she claims to be. Rather, she desires to find that out for herself, her curiosity being the main reason for her presence to begin with. While her irritable personality can make her rather grating to be around, she does not take alliances lightly and possesses a deep hatred for those who would betray the trust of others.

[User]
Od

"Knights! Archers in the forest! Someone go take them out!"

She was right in the thick of battle, cutting through the heel of a man who thought he could run past her into the fortress proper with a lunging sweep of her blade when Vyrell's message echoed from atop the walls. She turned to peer out into the forest and see what it was he was speaking about. It was only but for a second but in that moment arrows flew out from beyond her view.

While these shots upon her were fired with pin-point accuracy arrows could only fly so fast. The milliseconds it took to hit her gave her enough time to tilt her head. With a sharp ting the arrow grazed the brim of her helm, deflecting the arrow down into her right eye. While initially it was en-route to burrow into her eye straight on due to the deflection it hit her eye at an angle, catching a bit on the edge of her socket bone and only digging into the eye itself.

_
While having an arrow plunge into her eye was no cause for celebration this was at least good because it failed to penetrate into her brain. She hated it whenever things messed around inside her skull, it was the worst just due to how badly it robbed her of control over her own body. The agony was just something that was a part of living, at least back when these problems were part of her daily life. As for the arrow itself it would have penetrated deeper but due to both how tough her flesh was and the angle it hit her at the eye was able to absorb any and all force from it before it could dig any deeper.

Of course she reeled from the hit, letting out a sharp cry of pain. No matter how often these things happened to her her pain nerves would never dull, coming back just as sharp as always. She was simply used to it. As she reached up to pull the arrow out from her eye socket one of the bandits had decided to try and capitalize on her moment of weakness.

_
It was a large hairy man who hefted a heavy two handed axe. Just as she straightened up, her free hand on the arrow's shaft, he swung his axe with the aim of decapitating her in one solid blow. Unexpectedly however the axe only thunked into the side of her neck, stopping as though he were trying to chop through the trunk of a mighty tree. She needed to broaden her footing to not get thrown off her feet from the force of the blow but she was still standing nonetheless.

The bandit's eyes widened, his grin fading into a terrified grimace as she, with a furious scowl, swept her blade up vertically through his handle and consequently his fingers. The large man staggered back, an expression of pure shock frozen upon his face whilst blood quickly flowed from his missing digits. Pulling the arrow from her eye the others could see a slow stream of thick, semi-transparent, yellowish green liquid oozing down along her cheek like syrup. She tossed the ichor-soaked arrow aside and gripped the head of the axe still imbedded in her neck. With a sickening slorp she pulled the weapon loose from her neck and tossed it to the man's feet where it landed with an unpleasant splat.

"S-She's!- She's not human! SHE'S A MONSTER!" He started to scream as he watched this woman step forward with both her eye and a chunk of her neck missing, her expression unchanged. The unnatural elements at play here took a heavy toll on the man's sanity as he started to point with his stumps whilst screaming:

"YOU'RE A MONSTER!"

Just as he turned to flee she thrust her sword low into his back, her blade going right through the spine with the tip poking out from his bladder. The bandit's frantic screaming turned into incoherent screeches of agony as she swept her blade down, cleaving his spine, pelvis and manhood in half. He landed on his belly before curling into the fetal position whilst trying to keep his insides from spilling out.

She brought the blade back to her side, turning to face the next unlucky fool she'd slaughter for their cruel opportunism. Despite having been deep inside so many people her sword did not have so much as a single spot of blood on it. It was as though the weapon were so sharp that even blood could not cling to it. It'd be cut away for simply even touching it.

She would leave alone only those who were fleeing after witnessing this display of hers. Any who still continued for the gate and threaten her allies were who she'd turn her attention to next. She ignored the arrows which peppered the grounds around her, one hitting her back armor whilst another struck into her shoulder, only able to draw a pin-prick of blood from it's point of impact. Her attention was turned to the next fool still trying for the gate. The archers were little more than a nuisance for her. She couldn't abandon the gate while there were enemies still trying to threaten those protected within.

She sprinted forth at her next victim, ready to dice him into gore and then the next.

Until they were all dead.

[Assistant]
Luna was shocked about how fast she was kicked out of the room, really. That was a rather frightening threat the queen had given her. Well, she suppose she should keep her mouth shut then. She scratched the back of her head before shrugging and making for the North Gate. As she ran, she made sure no one was standing around the streets, though it looked like it was mostly fine. Soon enough, she made it to the gate where the fighting was going on and made her way up onto the wall. She managed to catch the tail end of whatever slaughter was going on to Vyrell's announcement of archers.

Luna narrowed her eyes as she looked on at the volleys of arrows. She wouldn't be able to help everyone, especially poor Od who, according to what she had heard, would probably recover just fine. She held her hands out and focused. While some of her knightly allies would be able to protect themselves easily, a few would find a bit more difficulty in such a feat. Notable Od that had just taken a few hits and likely Ethelred who didn't have a good defense for his horse. A golden barrier appeared in front of Ethelred and his horse and Elias Reinhardt to block any of the arrows aimed at them for a short period. She had a feeling that Fio could handle herself just fine.

After she blocked the volley, she released the spells and switched to casting a new one, creating a golden spear of light in her hand. The proud knightess aimed towards the forest line where she saw the arrows coming from. She didn't need to hit any of the archers, she just needed to hit close to them. Using a bit of magic to power up how far the javelin would go and she launched it. It soared through the air and landed inside the forest... Before causing a blast of light! Hopefully, it would catch the archers off guard and give her allies a bit of cover to make it to them. After, Luna created some platforms with her magic, that disappeared after she stepped to the next, to safely reach ground level to assist her fellow knights with honorable combat.

[User]
Ethelred

Just as the bandits seemed to break from the knights' combined efforts, arrows started flying from within the forest. One arrow struck Ethelred square on the faceplate, but failed to penetrate the crystalline armor.

That was either a very lucky shot or a very precise one, he considered as more, less accurate arrows began flying, with one glancing off his horse's flank. This could be a problem. The surviving bandits were now regrouping, their morale seemingly restored by the unseen archers' ambush, and now the knights had to deal with two groups of enemies, all while being completely exposed and out in the open.

When this is over, we need to speak to the queen about having those trees cleared. Ethelred wasn't too concerned about himself- his shield and armor should be enough to stop these arrows- but his horse was another story. Its tough, ice-like flesh was tougher than that of an ordinary stallion, but wasn't rigid, unyielding crystal like his armor, and a direct hit from an arrow could wound it.

Fortunately, aid came at just the most opportune moment. A golden barrier rose up in front of both mount and rider, shielding them from further arrows. It seemed that Lunalel had joined the battle. Ethelred had always considered her a reliable one, with her useful array of elder beast granted powers. This respite gave him an opportunity to assess where the arrows were coming from, and what to do next.

Od and Reinhardt probably could handle the remaining bandits close by, thus Ethelred opted to focus on dealing with the archers. After seeing where the arrows were coming from, he spurred his horse on. With his shield raised, he drove his horse at an angle towards the forest some distance from where the arrows were emerging, all the while leaving a trail of frigid fog behind them. He didn't want to charge them head-on into a potential trap, or give them an easy, direct target, rather he'd want to get a good look at what he was up against, and flank them from within the forest.

He'd have to proceed with caution once he reached the cover of the trees. The rapid speed of his movement would leave him at a considerable distance from the other knights even if any of them also opted to approach the archers before cutting down the remaining brigand foot-soldiers, but he wasn't entirely sure what he would be facing.

[Assistant]
The blades vanished moments after they struck their targets or buried themselves in the ground. Only momentarily was the woven light stained with blood before it vanished into drifting motes, leaving nothing behind but the destruction as a sign of its presence.

Archers.

"Panzerschild!"

With a swing of her sword, a thrumming sound filled the air. As the arrows hurtled towards Fio, a small light ignited in the air just ahead of her before birthing a circle much like the ones her phantom blades had originated from. The arrows hurtling towards her bounced harmlessly off her barrier, and any of the defenders in range of her barrier had nothing to fear from the projectiles.

"As if that would be enough," commented Fio, eyes narrowed. There was no chance even an entire army of archers would touch her, let alone this handful!

Of course, given they were in cover, she couldn't get an accurate line of sight on them. But that didn't mean she couldn't disrupt their formation...

"Let's show them how the Sword Witch responds to that! Great Ghost Blade!"

As Fio's barrier dissipated, another circle formed above her. This time, the weight of mana use flowing through her body was a little heavier, but not too burdensome to bear.

As the interwoven blade of light emerged, it was clear it was at least twice as long as she was tall, if not more so. The air around it seemed to shimmer, as if waves on the surface of some invisible body of water had suddenly been disturbed.

"Release!"

With that, the hefty phantom sword was sent hurtling through the air, a whistling sound accompanying it as it careened towards the origin of the arrows.


[System]
Was previously Tibulus Sepitan and Jackson Rhodes
Age/Race/Gender:
 Unknown, Est. Late 20s / Funganoid(?)-Human / Female
 Deceased / Funganoid (see Powers) / Male
Appearance:

 Take a skeleton, add a blue mushroom helmet, give the mushroom gray spots, and the skeleton has blue lights for pupils. That's literally the base appearance for Tibulus. Otherwise, a tight navy jumpsuit is worn at all times by Tibulus, and is never taken off as it protected a large amount of critical vines and cargo.
Occupation:
 Electrician, Botanist and Pilot.
Weapons:
 The only real weapon that Tibulass will carry is her custom made stun blaster, powered by the coherent power of Funganoids being able to create a good amount of electricity with direct contact. The stun blaster is a pistol with no real lethality unless it connects to bare skin. Otherwise, it acts as an EMP and will short-circuit any technology it comes into contact with, but it must be charged with every use and can only short circuit for a small amount of time.
 Besides the stun blaster, she also carries a single glove, able to amplify the electricity generated from being a Funganoid into electrical punches. It causes a similar EMP effect to the stun blaster but does it over an area. The stronger the punch, the more area it will cover. If a punch is too strong, it will cause Tibulass to go unconscious due to an overcharge. Periods of unconsciousness can be from a minute to 2 hours.
Armor:
 Power armor is the way to go, and Tibulus carries around a lightweight full-body shield unit. It coats the whole body in a relatively strong shield, and it shall hold up for a damn good time. When it's depleted, however, it will cause an EMP around her in about a 2 meter radius, and will not work for a good amount of time. Once it's recharged though, the EMP will also be recharged, so there's that bit of tidbitual informationing.
Items:
 - A bunch of rechargeable batteries, which could have had the energy absorbed out of in order to get Tibulus drunk.
 - A photo of Tibulus when he was alive, with his wife and 2 kids, William and Rodney.
 - Multiple cigars. It's rare to see her without one in her mouth.
 - A single snack-pack of Goldfish brand crackers. He wants to find more.
Skills:
 - Tibulass claims she can pilot anything with a simple look over the controls. This has been unproven.
 - Tibulass has extensive knowledge of electronics, and can create incredible things provided you give her resources and time.
 - Tibulass is a botanist, and as such he has extensive knowledge of plant life. From crossbreeding to genetically engineering.
 - Tibulass is a master when it comes to the art of knitting. Nobody knows why.
Powers: The Funganoid is a relatively newly discovered race, taking on the appearance of a parasitic fungus that will attempt to latch onto any deceased life within a good radius and effectively reanimating them and using the deceased as a body. This is not a case of zombies, this is a case of the person being given a second chance at life, as the deceased is reanimated with all knowledge from the previous life that they have experienced, and is largely the same person as they once were. This is overshadowed, however, by the grotesque appearance of the deceased as they slowly lose all of their skin (provided they had any) and become the definition of feared.
 One of the most interesting traits of the funganoid is the unexplained ability they possess. When a funganoid possesses a host, the host gains the ability to conduct a certain kind of static electricity through their bones, and some are even able to channel it into fully fledged thunderbolts of destruction. This is reserved only for the most experienced of the race, and currently only one funganoid was found with this capability.
 Due to their skeletal bodies, funganoids are considered immortal, and cannot die from old age. In addition, the funganoid does not have a need to eat, drink, or breathe, unless they so desire to. They also cannot be afflicted with mortal ailments excluding any sort of brain disease, which is typically passed down genetically anyway.
 Further research is being conducted on the nature of these mysterious beings.
 ~ Professor B. Nan; Head of the Racial Research Branch in [REDACTED]
 Hidden within the confines of their attire, this race of fungal skeleton is able to spread a large cluster of vines out from the confines of their ribs, all seemingly stemming from some sort of heart. These vines are able to act as individual hands, allowing them to perform specific tasks at the will of the host. Using these vines comes at a price, however, as the heart is an extremely vulnerable target to any aggressors, and it can lead to critical health if this heart is hit.
 A rather... interesting discovery of recent times came about with the existence and study of 'Tibulus Sepitan', a retired pilot. From observing him for a short amount of time, it can be deduced that funganoids possess motor skills far greater than any human being currently alive. The subject cancelled the study after a week due to the mental strain it put on his body, and he requested to be moved as far away from
[R͟E̷D̵̸͜A̕͘̕C̀͠T̶̢E̸͝D̶͞͠҉͠] as possible.
 Sepitan was later moved to [R͟E̷D̵̸͜A̕͘̕C̀͠T̶̢E̸͝D̶͞͠҉͠], and further studies have ceased unless he desires to continue them.
 ~ Professor B. Nan; Head of the Racial Research Branch in [REDACTED]
No research has been conducted yet on this topic.
Other:
 Tibulass is believed to have psionic aptitude that contribute to her electrical abilities.
 Tibulus was 5'7" tall, and Tibulass is 5'9".

bork

[User]
Jack, or was it Arex?

---

Location: The Revenant.Interacting with:

---

***

Besides flashing a faint smirk at Benny's words Arex sat silently brooding for the duration of the trip, caught up in his own distant thoughts. He paid little focus to what was going on outside and was very slow to move after their landing.
Eventually he casually waltzed out of the shuttle and onto the battlefield whistling a spritely tune. With only one pistol in hand he spun the gun around his finger as he nonchalantly strolled behind the others, showing far less enthusiasm or devotion to the task at hand.
He watched as his crew eagerly took to slaughter.
"Forgot to use the little boys room before we left, I'll be back soon." he sarcasticly and blatantly lies as he heads off to a side door leading into a long hallway. (@Xandrya Shadowing Amy)

[Assistant]
When she carefully rounded the corner, her pistol aimed straight ahead, Amy sighed with disappointment as she relaxed her posture. She knew she had limited time to find her father before she'd have to get back to the others, but all these empty hallways would just make the search that much longer than it had to be.

Amy continued down the hall, this time at a quicker pace than before. She was still being vigilant, and that's when she heard footsteps from somewhere behind her. She slowed down just enough to not be noticed, then quickly whipped around.

"Don't fucking move!"

Her voice echoed of the walls, and even though it took her a few seconds, she recognized his silhouette...

"Arex? What are you doing here?"

Light

[User]
Tibulus was busy piloting the ship with everything that's going on. The quick assault on the Planet Cracker was with no time to waste, as he sped past it and lowered the door to the cargo bay, having the doorway open for everyone to assault the cracker. He spoke over the intercom as this happened, his voice booming around the ship with the rumble of... well... a surprising sense of calm perspiring around his tone. The skeletal pilot of the cargo ship began steering the ship to portside as the gunnery crew could unleash their torrents of laser-powered spice at the drill, and he brought the ship around again for the crew on the opposite side in order to allow the most damage onto the rig. Tibulus remained vigilant as he piloted the Revenant, not responding to anyone as he flew it through the cold vacuum of space.

The small robotics kit was in a good construction, as a small fan was busy blowing onto Tibulus' forehead while he did all this.

[AT LITERALLY EVERYONE HERE]


[System]
Gender: M

Age: 26

Career/Class:Soldier / Ex-Soldier

Weapons:
* Basket Hilted Broadsword
* Imperial Dagger
* Norscan round Shield (Took from his first felled enemy)
* Aged Pistol

Physical Description Cyrdic is tall and lean, but solidly built, standing an inch over 6 feet in height. His eyes are reminiscent of shaped wrought iron. His face is ruddy and echoes a youthful appearance, though battles and training had roughed him into the look of a mature soldier. He has quite the rugged quality about him. Two scars mar his face. One parallel to the bottom of his left eye, and another scraping across his right jawline. His legs are long and his his facial hair is only a coarse, 5'oclock shadow thanks to his knife. He's clad in fine and tough leather over a chainmail hauberk, with sturdy traveling shoes and a worn belt.

Mental Description/Personality: Cyrdic isn't a fool. He spent a year apprenticed to a Quartermaster (as punishment for recklessness) and learned how to read and write (to a degree). The best way to describe him would be a hardened, rough soldier at the brink of his youth. He'll use what he can in his disposal to win, though half the time it turns out he'll need to fuck someone up anyway. His fierce independence and rough nature can only be matched by his determination to survive. He's not tactically intelligent, but he has a sense of how battlefields shift and can command smaller troops with his powerful voice. He tends to have a take-no-shit (unless it's from a superior officer) lookout on life. He's amiable to certain people however, and will have a dry wit around those he enjoys (or to people he wishes he could be more honest with). While fighting and killing and marching has been his entire life, he's not particularly fond of being thrust into impossible situations and doesn't lack a healthy sense of self preservation. He's gotten quite tired of working for corrupt officers. He's a devout Sigmarite thanks to his upbringing, and has a hammer chained necklace upon his breast to signify this.

[User]
Cyrdic exchanged a surprised look with Camilla. He took a moment to absorb all of the information, and it still made little sense. Why would he and Camilla be specifically...odd to their machinations? The soldier sighed, and realized it didn't pay to dwell on such things. The best thing to do was to act, but at the same time he didn't want to be discovered. If they thought he and Camilla were either none-the-wiser, or dead, best to keep these ratmen and this heretic that way.

But Ulric and Sigmar be damned if he was going to let them escape, too. He knew their vision in the dark was too good for his face to be hidden. It was when he looked back at Camilla that he had an idea.

"I'll not be letting these chaos-filth leave here alive," Von Koneinswald said. Cyrdic ripped another part off his shirt and wrapped it around his face to conceal his identity, just as Camilla had on hers. "Nor me, herr Templar." Cyrdic said grimly, and hefted his sword. He gave a nod to he and Camilla. "Keep your face covered, and stay close behind me," he told her.

The next few seconds happened far too quickly. Cyrdic stepped out into the hall, flashing the Skaven and man with a sudden light. "Oi lads! I found them!" He cried. He wasn't as good at impressions as Camilla, but he felt he caught the low-born sewer jack drawl. He waited until the sewers were filled with the smoke and cracks of gunpowder weapons from behind him, and he charged with his sword leading.

The man cursed, and promptly tried to leap across the filth, barely grabbing on to the otherside, scrambling up as he attempted to flee. The grey-skaven screeched, a bullet in its gut, courtesy of the Witch Hunter. He cried for the remaining skaven to attack, calling them Storm Vermin in broken reikspeil.

Cyrdic desperately wished he had brought his shield. The first halberd thrust from one of the remaining Storm vermin nearly stuck him. He knocked it aside with his sword and closed in, hacking at its neck. The thing ducked, magic metal meeting the black steel of its helm. Cyrdic kicked, knocking it back and staggering it long enough for him to run it through in a vulnerable spot in its armor.

He unceremoniously shoved the dying vermin into the drink. There were three Stormvermin left, and one dragged away the leading Skaven as the other two attacked.

[Assistant]
Camilla's guts clenched as they rushed into the small chamber. It had clearly began life as a natural hollow in the earth which work from sewer construction had opened. She leveled her pistol and fired at the fleeing human and fired with a snap-pop of burning gunpowder. The figure staggered for a moment and then lurched unsteadily towards one of the side passages which honeycombed the main sewer works. Cursing she leveled her other pistol but the traitor was already out of line of sight.

One of the armored Ska-van grabbed the gutshot sorcerer and dragged him back towards a hole in the side of the grotto that looked like it had been dug by the claws of some vast beast. The other two stepped back into the mouth leveling their halberds with their flanks protected by the tunnel wall. Camilla had thought spears an odd choice for creatures that lurked in tunnels but now the logic of the choice was made clear.

Or at least it would have been logical if gunpowder weapons weren't a factor. Camilla leveled the second pistol and fired, it was impossible to miss the opening and the rat things standing within it. There was a massive clang and one of the rats screamed, a fist sized divot hammered into the front of his armor, shattering ribs and flesh and showering the tunnel with sparks. The second rat stepped back further clearly intending to use the still thrashing body of the first as an obstacle to delay the would be sewer jacks. It just snarl something in that horrifying mockery of Reikspiel when its left eye abrubtly transformed into a pile of pulped flesh as the Templar's second pistol short crashed out, scattering a fine grey and red mist into the air behind the thing.

For a moment there was silence, save for the feeble scrambling of mortally wounded skaven, the flow of filthy sewer water and the last dying echos of the pistol's report.

"Sewerjacks! For the Graf!" Von Koneinswald yelled into the silence, his voice a surprisingly credible Middenheim accent, although it didn't have the rough edges that had made Cydrics seem more authentic. As one they bounded across to the tunnel intent on following their prey. As she gazed down the sepulcral tunnel, it seemed a faint green light was illuminating the way... and that it was growing rapidly brighter.

"Down!" someone shouted but she was already moving, throwing herself at Cydric, her intent to knock him out of the mouth of the tunnel. The big Ostlander caught her wait easily and for a moment she clung to him awardly. The skin on the back of her neck began to crawl and a stink like burning swamp grass washed over them. Von Koneinswald hit them both, his slender body had the strength of a cannonball, sending all three of them tumbling to the side in a heap. As she tumbled Camilla had a brief glimpse of some huge ratlike head made of translucent green fire. The thing snapped its jaws with a thunderous concussion and then sucked back into the mouth of the tunnel with the speed of a flame being sucked back towards a fire. All that remained of the two rats were pieces of bone and slivers of rusted armor.

Camilla just gaped in open mouthed horror at the aftermath of the sorcery for a moment and then fell heavily back to the ground, with a relieved gasp.

[User]
Cyrdic's eyes were wide as he saw the unholy magic being unleashed. The Ostlander gazed down at his sword, confused as to why he had just stood there. Even eager to meet the magic head-on. Yes he had been caught unawares by it, but even at the last second, he had chosen to face it instead of getting out of its way. He was just glad both of his companions had the weight that could knock him to the side.

Cyrdic thanked Camilla and herr Koneinswald, checking if they were ok before making his way back to the mouth of the sewer, and peered inward with the torch.

Nothing. Cyrdic breathed a sigh of relief, glad they had at least dealt some damage to those chaos lovers. If there was one thing he'd never get tired of, it was that. His shirt was tatters, his back scraped, and his body covered in grime, but he felt satisfied with what they'd accomplished, even if it wasn't nearly enough to make him comfortable.

Tomorrow night, there would be an attack on the city, and the Count's ball. Cyrdic and Camilla needed to tell the Chamberlain. Though who this 'red lady' was, he couldn't guess.

Koneinswald cleared his throat, and helped Camilla up before dusting himself off. "Vile filth," he spat. "Why any man would break bread with a ratkin is beyond me." The Witcher checked his remaining shot and powder, speaking almost casually. "I assume you two will be at tomorrow's daemon summoning?"

Cyrdic snorted at the joke. "We'll look out best too." he said.

"I'll be searching the poor district, though I might show myself there as well. Unseen, of course. If I were to walk in, the time for subtlety would be over."

[Assistant]
The three weary and smelly sewer jacks parted company at the same sewer cover they had climbed down. It was full night in Middenheim by now which was a surprising disappointment as she climbed up and out of the sewer with the help of Cydric's proffered hand. If the dead skaven had caused any excitement it was long over and while the street lamps burned their oil cheerfully, there was no sign of the watch. There was a slight eriee mist hanging over the streets and while they occasionally caught sight of figures moving in the fog, they were untroubled upon their return to the inn.

Camilla had been expecting the same rioutous bussiness from the previous evening, and was working hard to conjure a lie that would explain both the smell and their tattered and battle scared clothing, but as they approached she saw it was unusually empty. Rather than waste time they bulled right in to find that the place was indeed deserted. A young man who bore an obvious resemblance to the Innkeeper sat on one of the bar tables facing one of the pantries. Another young man whom Camilla didn't recognise sat watching the door, a large coachgun of somesort in his lap. Both youths relaxed when they saw Cydric and Camilla step through the door.

One of the large bar tables had been upended and pulled across the opening to the pantry, now empty of its ususal trove of food. A large man with a bloody pressure cut on his forehead stood there gagged and tied. Camilla figured that he could have gotten free of the bindings and gotten over the table, but certainly not in time to avoid a cudgel to the skull or the blast of a coach gun.

"Herr Reiner," said the boy with the blunderbuss, his face washed with relief as he hopped down of the table and made his way over to the pair of them. His eyes widened at the sight of them, and probably the smell as well, but he choose not to ask.

"My cousin and my uncle," he made a gesture to the boy watching the pantry, "Found this man like the Lady Du Courrone said, he told me to keep him here till he gets back. He went looking for you I think."

Camilla blinked, momentarily flumoxed, then she recalled that Bella had gone up to the room with 'a large man' and she had told the innkeeper to try to track him down. Certainly she had never expected the man would manage it, but apparently either he was more formidable than he seemed or he was proof of the aphorism that everybody got lucky sometimes.

"He was trying to get out the Eastern gate," the boy went on proudly, "I figured he would go that way because its the quickest route out of the city after dark." Camilla arched an eyebrow impressed. That was quick and clear thinking in a crisis.

"We need to get word to the Count's Chamberlain, bring me quill and ink and ill write it out for you, also get someone to get some water heated for ..." she trailed off as the boys face fell. Bella would normally have done that particular task she realised.

[User]
Cyrdic felt intense sympathy for both Camilla and the young boys. He met Camilla's eyes, and gave her a nod. His look told her to be strong, and she was doing all that she needed to do. "Boys," he said suddenly, and headed over to them. He placed his hand on the younger one's shoulder.

It was an odd thing. Cyrdic might not act like it, but he was still quite young himself. It was his powerful voice, and the scars, that made him stand out. That, and being a personal guest to the Graf and an adventurer didn't hurt. "Good job. You two should be proud." he said, bolstering them in their time of mourning. "Now, one of you get the lady her ink and pen, and the other set up a pair of baths. There'll be good coin in it for you." His reassuring smile got them to their feet as much as the clear order he had given.

And then, the 'older brother' figure turned into a wrathful soldier of the empire, his eyes grimly set on the captured man. "Get up," he growled, grabbing the man by the shirt and lifting him up. As the young men went off to do their duties, the big man now saw his chance to break free, and attempted to shove Cyrdic to the ground.

The Ostlander sidestepped and kicked the legs out from under him, anticipating the move. He smacked into the wooden planks of the floor, until Cyrdic lifted him back up and slugged him. "You think I've never dealt with prisoners before?" he said, gripping the man's arms in an iron grip and shoving him into an empty room. Before he strode in there, he told Camilla to write the letter and not to worry about the prisoner. He'd deal with him.

A few hard punches, and a broken finger later, the man looked ready to break down. Still tied and bound, only his gag had been removed.

"Alright! Alright!" he cried after his nose had been broken. Cyrdic wiped the blood off his knuckles. "Talk, or your neck breaks next."

Camilla entered the room as he said it, and Cyrdic casually asked if the bath was ready.