[System]
Age: 16

Race: Human

Gender: Female

Appearance:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Adventuring Rank: Porcelain

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

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

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

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

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

Porcelain Adventurer's Tag

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

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

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

[User]
Once Lizzie-poo their lizard-friend took care of the campfire, and Druid Girl had checked to make sure neither she nor either of the other two had left anything behind, they were off. Walking back along the same way they had came here, it wouldn't take much time to get back to town. Still, the sun was setting and getting dangerously close to sinking below the horizon - still, barring a sudden ambush by bears or bandits, they should be able to get back in time.

The Great Red One then asked a curious question, one that caused the druid's eyes to grow slightly bigger and a confused expression to spread across her face. Had he never given a report before? Was this his very first quest? But he was such a capable warrior though... Surely he was jokibng? No, he didn't seem the type to do so. No, he was the overly serious type it seemed, and so, this too was a serious question. Druid Girl smiled at the prospect of being able to teach him something in return for his help and tips earlier - even if she did know what kind of firewood worked best, given her own training...

"Well, once we get back, we go to the front desk and tell them we've completed the quest. We give them the document, and then we'll go to a meeting room with a guild official and a Truth Seeker. We'll give a brief re-telling of all the major events that happened and answer any question they might have." She explained, before adding on - with a raised finger. "Oh, and don't try to lie or dodge any of their inquiries, Seekers can tell if you're lying, so there's no point in trying. Not that we've got any reason to lie in the first place, but just in case you didn't know, Big Red." She said, attempting to give the lizard a new nickname.

[Assistant]
At the question of braiding her hair, Steppe Archer was surprised. Mostly by how ridiculously hard that would be for someone to do. Looking back at her mess of silver hair she started wondering how long it would take someone to braid. Hours? A full day? Either way, that was far too long. Especially right now with all of this job hunting and turning in that needed to be done. Smiling, Steppe Archer would turn to her companion and say: "Ehehe...I don't know how cute it'd be, but you are right. It'd be a lot easier to keep out of the way. But, for now, its fine as it is. I'd cut it, but my tribe has a tradition for women. Its a bit weird, but we never cut our hair before we marry," she would explain, standing up once her hair was sufficiently dried.

The hurried trek to the town would get them in just before it would be shut off to them. Once the question of how to give a report was raised by her scaled friend, Steppe Archer would look back on her failure to complete the rats quest and hang her head a bit. That was...frankly more than a bit embarrassing. Being outclassed by big rodents. Even if she'd spent all her life hunting beasts, there was a very large difference between the terrain of a large plateau and the enclosure of a sewer. Any beast was more fearsome in its own den, she'd been taught but...

Rats? Really? Rats.

Before a look of melancholy overtook her face, the nomad girl would slap her own cheeks with her hands to perk herself back up. Right now, she had a quest success rate of 50%! That was...decent! "Let's go Big Red! You and me can do this! E-Even if the guild ladies look at us funny," she said, having had a bad experience coming back to the guild smelling like raw sewage to report failure and casualty. She was so caught up in wanting to do well she hadn't even confirmed if he liked 'Big Red' as a nickname or not. "Do we all have to go in to report?" Steppe Archer would ask, looking to her more bureaucratically experienced druid friend.

[User]
"I don't think we all need to take part, but the Guild prefers if we do. After all, if only one person gives an account of what happened, important things might be left out - unintentionally or otherwise." The druid replied to the archer's query about them all having to take part in the report debriefing.

As they walked along the dirt path, they soon came upon the eastern gate of Palisade Town. Two guardsmen, armed with spears, small bucklers and a each wearing a suit of ring mail, stood on either side of the entrance - looking rather bored and unmotivated. As the trio approached though, both of their heads perked up at the sight of the two, foreign girls - apparently being a sight enough to make their eyes sparkle just a hint... But, that was soon replaced by expressions of either revulsion or apprehensiveness, once they saw the giant red lizardman accompanying the girls. Didn't seem like these two were going to be trying to chat up the ladies anytime soon with their hulking friend tagging along.

The group passed by the gatehouse uneventfully, and walked on down the main street. The amount of people out and about had dramatically decreased, with only a handful of folks still hurriedly walking about. Palisade Town didn' have a high crime-rate, but people tended to stay indoors once the sun set, and as it was only mere minutes away from doing so, people were now preparing for the evening and supper. The windows of the houses along the streets were all alight with warm, yellow-y glow and small, translucent serpentine trails of smoke were seeping out of many chimneys. It was peaceful and mostly quiet, though getting to be a bit chilly with the soft evening-wind blowing.

"So, Big Red, you want me and her to join you in the reporting? It's usually the person who hands in the quest receipt who gets questioned the most, since they're usually considered the party's leader." She explained, looking up at the lizardman with a smile, just as they arrived at the guild hall.

[Assistant]
Lizard Fighter paid attention to Druid Girl when she started to explain things. He nodded along to let her know he was paying attention as she told him how they were supposed to do reports. "That seems like a long process...I'm surprised they don't just take written reports for small jobs and verbal for big ones." He said as they walked. Her expression before her explanation though had got him curious, did she think he was a veteran or something because he knew how to handle dead critters and how to fight boars?

"Boars are common in swamps and not a lot of good wood for fires is available." He said to her, letting her know how he knew how to do the things he had been doing. Mushrooms and vegetation were plentiful in swamp areas, also boars liked to wallow in muck on hot days.

His ears flicked at the new nickname, but this one didn't bother him. It wasn't purposefully cutesy like 'lizzie-poo'. The Archer girl got a dejected look, had she failed before? Her self cheek slapping got a rather confused blink before he just shook his head. Humans, so damn weird. "My blunt manner and my kind not being common outside of the swamps is what earns me their 'funny looks'. You smelled like a sewer..." He said, was that a little joking jab from the serious one? Possibly, and if asked he'd never let them know!

The Archer Girl did ask a good question, which got him to look at Druid Girl as well while the group walked with no rush.

[User]
Steppe Archer would freeze at the truth and bluntness of the Lizard Fighter's mention of her smell, causing her to react as if she'd actually just gotten jabbed in her side, leaning to the right on one foot off balance, arms raised in the air as she expressed her shock. "I-I mean...People are just scared of the smell of adventure!" she would exclaim, looking actually a bit downtrodden at the idea of her permanently being labeled as "stinky" for her first job.

"Let's all go in together. Might as well, since it isn't like we have anywhere else to be until the quest is all finished up," Steppe Archer would say, offering a fair point. What, were they going to loiter around at the guild hall twiddling their thumbs? They'd all agreed to join up as a party for another quest after, so she didn't see much reason for anyone to sit out the briefing. Regardless of the decision made on who should report, Steppe Archer would be fairly satisfied with the divided pay. Smiling at her paltry sum of coins, she marveled at how heavy hard-earned coin really felt. No wonder she'd heard of many adventurers going broke or into debt after huge payouts. She'd get nervous carrying about a large sum, having never even seen a whole gold piece at one time all her life.

"Patrol time!" the nomad girl would declare, before heading over to the quest board eagerly to see if the quest had been taken up by someone earlier or not. If so then...guess that was it for the night.


[System]
Gender:

Female

Age:

27

Birthplace:

Glasgow, Scotland.

Appearance:

Personality:

Aloof, impatient, strategizing, understanding, merciful, logical, prefers dark humor.

Occupation before the breakout:

Dog trainer, specializing in attack and police training while attending college.

Skills:

Dealing with animals, more specifically dogs and horses. Medicine and botany.

Fears/incompetencies:

Being left alone. Geese. Bad at building intimate relationships with people. Has an addictive personality.

Equipment:

One large duffel bag. Two .44 Desert Eagles. Ammunition. One envelope opener. One pocket knife. One broken rusty pipe. One 10 pound dumbbell. One canine unit by the name of Themistocles (Alaskan Malamute, male, alive). One flare. Three glowsticks. One can-opener. One package of plastic eating utensils. Three med kits. Three packages of sanitary wipes. One medium sized bag of dry dog food. Six cans of random soup. Two loaves of bread. One photo album. One jade rosary.

Group:

On her own with the dog.

History:

Rowena was born of a one-night-stand between her Scottish mother and American father. The only reason she was brought to America two years after she'd been born was because her mother was looking for the man. Unfortunately, she didn't find him. Just sunk her teeth into the nicest and richest man she could find as soon as she could so that Rowena could have a life of some kind. The divorce happened when Rowena was eight years old and after that, the men just came and went like the news. Nothing interesting.
Her neighbor's father got her interested in guns, training her carefully until she was able to hold her own with a weapon. The man took her out to the farm he owned, out far in the countryside, teaching her how about wildlife and the plants that grew in the nearby forest. Every now and again he'd let her watch as he treated and cared for his horses. But it was the dog that Rowena grew most fond of. It was a skinny thing that ran faster than anything she'd ever seen. That sparked her interested in dogs, pushing her to take up training them on the side.
Eventually she left home and started post-secondary education as well, Themistocles given to her as a congratulatory gift when she was accepted into her program of choice. Rowena was close to finishing up her program when the outbreak started,uprooting all her efforts and sending her life into turmoil. She'd travelled back home only to find her mother dead and her step-father gone, a note of 'be safe mody' on the floor being the only comfort she had. So after a second rage-filled breakdown she began preparing herself and Themistocles for the worst, heading out into the storm in hopes of finding survivors.

[User]
Ethan Blackledge

The remaining group was all together except for Nikki who was behind and Alex who was in front. Only two people had died which Ethan didn't know how to take it. So many people from their group had already died today and he thought the two people was so unlucky to get out of Dana point to only to be bitten a few hours later. The adrenaline that was pumping through Ethan had started to wear off now as most of the walkers had been dealt with, there was only a few stray walkers but someone else who he couldn't see was dealing with them. It didn't bother Ethan though, it was saving his group in more ways than one. As they continued to slowly move down the highway, Walter came over to him and urged them to keep moving.

"I know what you mean Walt. Run to Alex as quickly as you can, see if he's found anywhere to hide down the road for the night." He tapped him on the shoulder and smiled then turned around to see how far Nikki was behind him.

She was quite far behind them now. He couldn't really make her features out. There was somebody else with her, but he couldn't make them out in the slightest. At first he thought it could only be the girl who they had the confrontation with but the body type was completely different. "How many people are on this road?" Ethan said to himself in confusion thinking it was a massive coincidence that they were bumping into so many people. He shook his head and then waved at her to tell her to catch up. He didn't want to shout and make even more noise.

@Wick

[Assistant]
Walter Pierce

Walter nodded. "Got it," he replied to Ethan, though a look of concern washed over the young man as he looked over his friend's shoulder to look for Nikki. Though more than enough of their own group had been consumed by the walkers already, including the ones from only moments before, he was not keen on losing any more of their people.

"Make sure she gets out, too," Walter told Ethan, wheeling around and starting down the road. He thought back to when Alex had split off on his own-- just where exactly did he run off to? He blinked, his feet eventually taking him to the opposite side and starting at a set of decayed houses and buildings.

Placing his knife back into its holder and grabbing his crowbar, Walter took a deep breath, citing the impending situation and time of day as a means to work fast. He kept a close eye on each corner, darting along the many complexes. The sights of the perpetually deteriorating civilization had been commonplace for Walter; he'd been along these streets and buildings many times, and so, he trusted his pathfinding was without flaw.

As much as Walter would have loved to call out Alex's name, so as to find the stray cat faster, it was obviously unwise to do so. "Which one..." he mumbled to himself, eyeing down each building as a boarded one stood out. "Maybe?"

[User]
Alex Teixeira

 Alex nodded again, and again, promptly pulling himself away from the door and leaving it shut behind him as he took off in a hurry. Through the overgrown yard, and across the broken stone walkway, he pushed past the front gate and noticed Walter eyeing the house curiously just as Alex had emerged. "Walter!" He hissed underneath his breath before jogging over to his friend, "Where are the others?" Alex looked Walter over, forgetting that he was still holding his pistol. Thankfully the safety was still on, he had no reason to take it off in the first place, to be fair. "I found a place, see?" he said, with a hint of joy in his voice. Walter had always been a kind soul to him, and the others in their group, it was always a pleasure to speak with him or Ethan over most others. Very few were comfortable with his accent prior to the break-out, which was perfectly understandable. The language barrier was never easy for him to overcome despite his excellent performance in the education system. Truth was, Alex never really wanted to overcome it. "There's a woman inside, with her baby.."

[Assistant]
Walter Pierce

Reuniting with Alex came to Walter as an immediate relief, letting out a sigh as his eyes continued to study the boarded structure before him. He listened to his fellow survivor, pointing back towards the road. "Bits of the horde is moving, it looks like. Some got us back there, and Darren's gone," he told Alex when asked where the others were. "Now some kid's shooting a storm, you hear that?"

Walter knew that all of the gunshots meant trouble for their remote location. The horde that overran their former sanctuary would turn to them, attracted by the noise. When Alex told him of the boarded house being a place to stay, he bit his lower lip at the mention of a woman and a baby being its residents. "You said a baby?"

The man wondered just how those with younger children had survived the apocalyptic nightmare for this long, much less, an infant that relied so much on its parents and could put them in instant danger with one cry. "We'll see later," Walter began to turn back. "Let's go help the others."

[User]
Jason groaned slightly to himself as the girl named Nikki invited him to join their group. Just what he needed a detour from his plan. But he couldn't just leave these kids out here by themselves. He will have to convince them to turn around and head for San Diego.

He moved forward and retrieved his combat knife from the dead walker's head. whiping the blood and brain matter on the dirty clothes before moving on. And speaking to Nikki, " lucky guess, if my team were out there you would have never known where, I only made contact because I wanted to. also, Technically Marines were apart of the navy.... Why must I be a Marine? Why not Army? Or national guard? "

Suddenly he heard a shot from a 50. Cal Barrett. "Jesus...." He said to himself. He wasn't expecting it. He knew the shot from anywhere as his buddy was the sniper of the team and that was his weapon of choice. He looked around to see a walker dropping far ahead and from how the walker's head snapped back he could tell the shot came from behind him. He looked back from where they came from and spotted the bif truck the redhead was driving, he would guess she was on the top as he would do the same but it was hard to see the small body on top from this angle.

"What the hell is she thinking?!" He said to himself, sure she was helping but in the long run it would only attract more walkers. He jumped onto a car and looked behind him to see if there was any walkers directly behind him before standing up, waving his arms back and forth to gain the girls attention, after a few seconds he motioned her to stop by flattening his hand and giving the 'cut it out' motion by quickly moving it in front of his neck a few times.

Hopefully she would listen, or if she did continue whe would have to double back and stop her. Looking to Nikki he said, " better find shelter quick, every walker In mile or so radius heard those shots. "

[Assistant]
Nikki listened to Jason and chuckled. "Yeah, most can't tell the difference. My brother was a marine. He was six years older than me and we lived close enough that we got to see him a lot." She grinned. She jumped when she heard the shot ring out. "What the..."

She saw Jason looking into the distance at the truck and the girl from earlier. "That girl must be crazy to be shooting that gun." Nikki started looking for the walkers she knew would be coming after that shot. "We have to catch up to the others and get out of sight." She watched him signal to the girl and when he was done she said, "come on." Nikki started jogging towards the others further down the road and kept her eyes open for walkers.

[User]
Alex Teixeira

 Alex perked his head over as gunshots began to echo across the highway, furrowing his brow irritably. "What are they thinking? That idiot will attract the horde!" Alex hissed, turning back to Kat's house momentarily. Alex shook his head and pulled Walter back, closer to the house's fence. "They will make their way towards us, away from the gunshots. We should wait here, in case any of the Morto attack this woman, yes? Is easier," He insisted, tugging at Walter's shirt even harder. There really was no reason to waste energy or risk running into a group of walkers meeting up with Ethan if they were already on their way here.

 Sure enough, Ethan and the rest of the group were already in view within the minute. Alex waved quietly, gesturing towards the house near him and Walter, still holding his gun harmlessly. "Who the hell is firing something that loud? Is going to start a riot!" He asked, leading the group towards Kat's house at a steady pace. "We might not even be able to hide if that horde is feeling, how you say- too adventurous?"

[Assistant]
The second-last can of beef and vegetable soup was tossed into whatever currently remained in the sewer system, the plastic spoon sailing in after it, joining it in its sad fate. Elbow resting on her knee, Rowena stared at the can before reaching around and scratching her dog behind the ear. Themistocles hadn't seemed interested in the can nor the plastic spoon but just whined, painfully bored. It was understandable. They'd been living here in the sewers for quite some time, scavenging the above ground area for whatever they needed to survive then slipping back down. The stench and filth stopped bothering her after the first few weeks, but her dog deserved some clean air, or so she personally thought anyway. Plus, if she ate another cold can of soup she just might lose her mind. Whatever was left of it.

"Into the woods with a pack and a blade. A cigar box medkit, retractable spade. Flint and steel. Pine needle bed. There ain't nothing like the woods. To clear your head," Rowena sang, watching the Malamute walk a few paces in front of her, sniffing at whatever was left of the outside world. They'd already gotten everything they needed from this area, so it was time to move on and look further along the road. Rowena played with the broken pipe she'd brought with her, swinging it to the tune as she sang quietly. She had the luxury of taking her time, walking in the center of the highway with a watchful eye on Themistocles. There weren't any walkers as of yet so she thought she'd take advantage of this, heading out further than usual in hopes of finding something or someone new.

It was after about forty-five minutes of walking that Rowena came about the first signs of intelligent life. About six silhouettes, from what she could tell. With a click of her tongue and a pat to her thigh, Themistocles was back at her side, leather collar pressed to her hip. She hadn't seen people in almost an entire year and was more than cautious. If they had guns and decided they didn't like her, she'd be royally screwed. However, she wasn't keen on being alone in this place for another year or for however long she had left to live. So she gathered her courage, keeping her dog close and her weapon closer, and slowly made her way toward the group.


[System]
* Age: 14
* Appearance: Whee. Nadeshiko is rather short.
* Personality: Incredibly shy and incredibly socially awkward, and tends to fall apart rather quickly when made the center of attention. However, the other main defining part of her personality is that she is a massive pervert. She loves cute girls, and if it weren't for her crippling lack of self-confidence and inability to properly socialize she would probably be a legendary skirtchaser. Instead, she focuses her perverted attentions on erotic anime, manga and visual novels, and peeping on the swim team when they're training. She does like less explicit media, but a lot of the time she only chooses to watch or read things because they have cute girls in them. As can be surmised from her obsession with cute girls, Nadeshiko is very, very gay. Despite her shyness, she's not exactly in the closet; it happens to be one of the few things she is very up-front about, and the first thing people tend to note about her after her shyness. One more important trait to note about Nadeshiko is her general laziness; if something doesn't interest her she's not likely to bother doing it, and since she tends to only show interest in things that involve cute girls, well... There's a lot of things that don't interest her.
* Level: 2
* Power: Psycho Print - Nadeshiko can project images from her mind onto paper (or really any flat surface). However, due to only being level 2 said images are incomplete and she usually has to fill in some of the blanks herself. Still, it makes it much easier to produce her doujinshi at a faster rate than would normally be possible for a single girl to achieve.
* History: Nadeshiko was so named in the hope that she would live up to the Japanese ideal of womanhood, but somewhere that went wrong. Instead of a confident, reliable, elegant young woman, she quickly turned into something of a shut-in. Her grades are average at best; she usually only just passes tests, and doesn't really excel at much, especially PE. However, her passion is art. She is a wonderful artist, able to expertly draw beautiful girls, beautiful girls kissing, beautiful girls sharing intimate moments... Mostly, she draws lesbian pornography. Her stories are well written enough, although it's clear that it's there mainly to set up for the main event. As far as her social life goes, it may as well not even exist; she has few if any friends due to her social awkwardness, leading her to be almost unable to talk at length with anyone other than her parents or older brother. Other than that, her life has been pretty average; her coming out wasn't much of a big deal, and she's mostly just kept to herself and her manga, anime and games.

[User]
Murakawa Torako

She pulled herself out from under the bed, looking at the two magazines incredulously. They were magazines for sure, but not the sort she went looking for when she was rummaging under the bed.

"This is wrong. This is wrong, Chibiko." Tora turned to look at the girl. "Where are those sort of magazines? Isn't it kinda basic to keep them under there? Then I'd have been able to find them and you'd go 'Kyaa~ kyaa!' and I'd make some sort of tsukkomi."

She sighed, before looking over the manga thoroughly. "Eh? Kinnikuman?" Without a word more, she dug under the bed again, taking out a whole lot of the manga series. "Whoah, this is incredible, Chibiko. I didn't think you'd even have these. I'm seeing you in a different light now."

Well, she had always been a fan of the series, but she never really had the time for them, so she never owned much more than the three books in her home. Tora had been working hard to get a spot in Academy City after all, finally managing to enter Nagatenjouki on her own. For such a distinguished school, she had feared she's be kicked out the moment she was tested to be a Level 1 esper. But it seemed they had others like her, even non-espers. It was quite unlike the stuck up Tokiwadai people, where everyone is at least a level 3 esper, with a lot of level 4 espers. So having the number 1 Level 5 in their school must be frustrating for Tokiwadai, even though they have two level 5 of their own. Level 5....

"AH! I completely forgot!" Tora put down the books hurriedly. "I had to go find those people!" She stood up and sprinted towards the door, stopped halfway and came back to the girl. "Ah, sorry. I forgot about this too."

"I'm Murakawa Torako, from Nagatenjouki." She smiled as she bent down to pat the girl's head. "Call me anytime you like, alright?"

With a last wave goodbye, she exited the place, closing the door gently before running out like a hurricane down the street. Pulling the cap down, she started pacing herself as she ran down the street.

---

Uiharu Kazari

Kazari glanced over at Annette, before sipping leisurely at her tea.

Since the question was directed at Saten, she'd refrain from replying. There was a bit of data that gave her some headache when she was searching for the truth behind Saten's legends. There were some reports of people passing out, and then returning in a daze logged. While one could argue that was already known from the legends, and people swearing up and down about it, having cold hard data logged meant there was concrete proof about it. Well, at least about the fainting part. The improved esper powers could just be a placebo effect. The power of suggestion can't be underestimated.

"Hmm..." How would her power develop if she suddenly gain several levels?

[Assistant]
Shirai Kuroko
The walk from the alleyway to the Judgement branch was about as uneventful as you you could hope for, which is to say that Kuroko only briefly berated the Level 5 for failing to consider that even if she was going to take out delinquents, she didn't need to do it so excessively as to cause traffic problems.

The sun was still high, and the weather good, as the two schoolgirls arrived at the building housing the office and climbed the stairs, with the smaller girl pausing at the entrance and studying the obviously-foreign girl. Being as uninformed as Uiharu to their boss's unfortunate leave of absence, she concluded that this girl was probably here to ask a request, "Is there something that Judgement can help you with, miss?"

---

Dark Alley
Looking away from Nadeshiko, the youth made an annoyed grunt and bolted, the enormous dog melting away as if it had never been there in the first place. He didn't seem to be the most co-ordinated of people, but chasing after him was made more difficult by the rubbish and its ilk that he knocked down as he ran. That was, of course, if anyone would rather chase after some blonde delinquent than talk to the obviously terrified girl.

[User]
Saten Ruiko

Smiling pleasantly, Ruiko waved her hand. While she did spend a lot of time in the Branch Office, she was hardly a member of Judgement. It was just because she had friends there. Sure, she helped out where she could, but the black-haired girl wasn't exactly any kind of official. Still, she was feeling rather mischevious at the moment, and as a result couldn't help but color her answer in a way that might embarrass Uiharu. Because, to be frank, that was always kind of fun.

"No no, I'm not a member of Judgement," she replied, still waving her hand. "I'm just here to take care of Uiharu!"

I was just about then that Mikoto and Kuroko showed up. Leaning a little to peer past the new person, Ruiko titled her head a little to the side as she greeted them. "Oh, hi, Misaka-san, Shirai-san!"

Misaka Mikoto

Of course Kuroko was going to give this lecture... she hadn't planned on going overboard like that! Those guys had just really ticked her off, she couldn't help it! Seriously, how many idiots were going to go preying on anyone who went into an alley by themselves... It wasn't like Mikoto could just sit there and wait. So... it was just an accident that she had knocked out the street lights, right? She hadn't meant to! At least the trip to the Judgement Branch Office was pretty uneventful... Even if the Third-Ranked Level Five could hear the honking and complaints off in the distance almost the whole way there.

When they arrived, Mikoto was surprised to see a lack of Konori Mii, and the appearance of a new girl. Saten was, of course, a common sight in the Office, and Uiharu naturally worked there... So this new girl must have needed something from Judgement. From experience, this really could have been anything. "Oh, hi."

[Assistant]
"Ah, I see," Annette replied with a nod. Well, that was on confirmation then, and a detail she filed away for later. If this 'take care of' involved doing what she had just seen Saten doing though, it probably wasn't all that appreciated. But she couldn't judge based off of a few minutes of interaction. Who knew, maybe Saten was useful in some way that she just hadn't seen yet.

Their discussion was interrupted by new arrivals, and Annette shifted to face the two of them. One was a Judgment member, as shown by the proudly displayed arm band, while the other was not. But her face seemed familiar, and Annette struggled to recall it as 'hellos' were exchanged.

She rose to her feet nonetheless as she bowed once more, to precise angles for societal norms. "Hello. My name is Annette Delauney. I'm actually transferring in effective tomorrow," she explained, a repetition of what she had said to Uiharu before. But that was to be expected, and she had no reason to think down on them for that when they hadn't been present before.

With the name drop via Saten, and her own memories, things at last clicked into place. Her eyes widened slightly in realization before Annette addressed another bow, deeper this time, towards Misaka. "Ah, you must be Misaka Mikoto. It's an honor to meet you in person." That it was. In fact, Annette had been hoping to meet her before, but the opportunity had never arisen, for various reasons. Regardless, now she had.

[User]
Beatrix gave her servant a blank look, completely missing what the taller girl was implying. Was she talking about romance stories? How were those embarrassing? They weren't even explicit! Only, like, a bajillion kiss scenes in one of them! No way would she ever 'kyaa' over something so mundane!

...Besides, she'd already got all of the scandalised blushing out of her system.

At any rate, the girl had apparently found something she liked. Something called Kinnikuman. It sounded vaguely familiar, though Beatrix didn't really remember actually reading it. It was either unimpressive, or she simply hadn't gotten around to it. After all, she had so many things to get done! And every time the gothic-lolita thought she had finished catching up, a completely new title showed up in her collection somehow. And were most certainly not series so awful and/or traumatising that they were hurriedly wiped from her memory before she could think to dispose of the offending material.

Come to think of it, she still had to reward this girl, right? Well... might as well give her the manga, right? Not like Beatrix would miss it terribly; buying them again wouldn't be a problem, and she was hardly attached to that series anyway.
As Beatrix opened her mouth to bless her guest with good firtune, however, she suddenly rushed out, having forgotten about some errand. All Beatrix could do was stare silently as her head was patted and Torako left. At least she took the time to introduce herself. But still...

"...Hmph. Who forgets important stuff..." Beatrix grumbled, her cheeks reddening slightly. Having someone act so... friendly and familiar was a really weird experience. Not at all like the grovelling she clearly deserved. Oh well, that was fun while it lasted. With a faint sigh, Beatrix busied herself with piling the manga up once more.

[Assistant]
Kyouma glanced at the restaurant signs in the area absentmindedly as he strolled down the street, contemplating which would be the most convenient for this time of day. He hadn't taken any time since he had been transferred over to go check out the streets (too busy studying, of course), so he had absolutely no clue what places were good, which weren't, and so on and so forth. If only he was back in a section of town he knew well- then he could just swing on by, grab some food to go and be on his way back home. But that wasn't the case anymore, now was it?

As he turned back to face the road in front of him, Kyouma noticed someone running at high speed towards him. What kind of person would...?

"Oh, it's-!" he said in momentary shock before moving to get out of the incoming girl's way. Right. That girl. One of those kouhai that he always saw standing out in the hallways as he walked to his classroom with his face buried in a book. He should've expected as much to happen to him on his first trip out in a while, though.

"Would it be better to stop her and ask her for a place to eat at...? No, that'd be too awkward. She looks like she's in a hurry, too..." he reasoned to himself quietly as he glanced at the signs once more. Geez, wasn't there anything that wasn't marketed towards kids here? Or, at the very least, something that looked relatively normal...

[User]
Nadeshiko - Dark Alley

Even though it was gone, even though that huge, horrible thing was no longer there, Nadeshiko couldn't stop trembling. If... If that girl hadn't shown up when she did, what would've happened? She didn't want to think about that at all...

"H-haaah..."

The girl was pretty, too... If she wasn't currently so terrified, she would probably... Well, she would probably just blush and mumble incoherently at her, but still. It would've been a noted improvement on her just shaking and staring into space, honestly. It hadn't even properly clicked in that not only was the danger gone, but that there was a cute girl standing right in front of her, really.


[System]
"Don't worry, the cavalry has arrived. Now we can all die together."

Sprite:
Nicknames/Title: The Emerald Lancer, The Sour Knight

Gender: Male

Marital Status: Single

Age: 20

Sexuality: Straight

Family Ties: Son of a minor noble of Jotenvarr

Class: Cavalier

Weapon Mastery(ies): Lances and swords

Inventory: Silver Lance, Iron Sword, Vulneraries

Personality: There are very few people as blunt and honest as Mikhail in this world. This stems from the fact that he sees lies, even kind ones, to be a waste of time and thus wants nothing to do with them. Unfortunately, this often results in him coming off as a harsh or even heartless individual, even though that couldn't be further from the truth.

On top of being painfully honest, Mikhail also has a penchant for being snarky. There is very little that escapes his sarcasm, much to the dismay of those around him. Of any given group, he is the one to play the devil's advocate, mostly just to see how people justify their stances on things. And it is important to note, that while he is snarky, he is not necessarily dismissive of others in most cases.

But if one is able to get past his sardonic exterior, they will find a man that is fiercely loyal and capable of being truly kind to those he cares about. Yet his kindness is something that can be difficult for most people to appreciate.

Biography: Mikhail's early life was simple and predictable. He was of minor nobility, so he was exempt from many concerns that others had to face. As he grew up and saw firsthand the lengths others had to go just to put food on the table, the boy began to resent the unfairness of it all. While this was one of the primary causes of his sour personality, it also led his desire to improve things for those not as lucky as himself.

However, being the third son to a noble with little land left Mikhail with few options. He could either grow old in the tiny shadow of his eldest brother or join the military and try and make a name for himself. Needless to say, he joined the military as soon as he turned 16.

Four years passed and Mikhail had found his calling in life. Mounted combat had come naturally to the noble as did lance play. The war with Alistaf left him with new scars, but also some renown. So when the King's call for new recruits reached him, Mikhail knew that he had to answer.

[User]
Compared to the training that followed, the first trial seemed surprisingly easy. Every day, it was like training in the ninja village where she stayed, except five time tougher. Her reward was food, perhaps the best reward among the ones her companions got. That apple pie definitely gave her enough motivation to continue... Ah, it was amazing. Pauline managed to get it once though, that one time when she hit all the targets. Most of the other times... Let's just say that she got used to eating wild fowl.

The second mission was up in the mountains. This environment was a lot less appealing to Pauline than the forest they were in for the last trial and she hoped that her stealth skills were enough to attack someone without getting noticed.

It seems that they were not the only squad who tried to complete the challenge. Pauline whimpered slightly when she saw the dead bodies of another squad. She knew she would need to deal with gore, death and murder, but still, it was incredibly distressing. A female scream drew her attention and Pauline ducked slightly, ready to dash off and help, yet when she glanced behind her back, she saw bandits approaching. The ones Hirotsuka mentioned…

Pauline barely noticed the wyvern rider in the sky when Tybalt called her and explained his plan. Thankfully, the bandits were slower than the mounted enemies they fought with, so they might have some time. The ninja waved her hand to get Hyakuya's attention and glanced at the leader. "We're lucky their leader didn't come from the mountains. Let's go while there's still time, I certainly hope you're good at climbing, because you'll probably be attacking from up there," – she pointed at one of the less steeper hills and rushed towards it.

[Assistant]
With the emerald rider closing in on him, the warrior pulled back his heavy blade even more, showing the flat behind his right shoulder to the direction Mikhail's lance was about to strike. He tilted his body even further to his left and kept his eyes on the encroaching foe until the very last moment.

With the clang of steel ringing through the battlefield, the tip of Mikhail's lance impacted and slid along the back of the warrior's right pauldron, sliding off at an angle as Rollo galloped behind the axe wielder. Instead of swinging his blade to the right and striking Mikhail from behind, he completed his turn and shoved the weapon forward, such that his enemy would charge straight into the wide flat of the axe's head. Assuming that somehow disrupted their movement, he would try to again attack the horse.

[User]
Hyakuya

With his dragonstone firmly placed in his pocket once more, Hyakuya listened to Tybalt's strategy. It wasn't bad. The manakete admittedly wasn't one for surprise attacks but he wasn't complaining now. After that, Pauline waved her hand and his attention was transferred to her as she explained what they would do. "I've spend a fair share of time walking instead of flying. I can manage that." Hyakuya replied as he looked at the steep side of the mountain. Good thing manaketes age slowly or else he would've crumpled in pain because of weak bones. "If we ever get spotted, I'll carry you back." He said, pertaining to how he'll transform and then grab her by the arms and fly away. He would follow Pauline as she moved, trying to be as stealthy as he can.

With that out of the way, the manakete took a deep breath. The risk was there and they were in a true battle, unlike the first trial. Here, they could kill people as revenge for killing the other squad. Something inside of him was just itching to transform and kill these bastards. He tried to calm himself down. No, he can't fight. Not yet at least. He needed to get up there so he can trap those barbarians and then rain fire on them when they least expect it. If they get caught, then he'll have to take Pauline back to the group before even thinking of making any risky maneuvers.

[Assistant]
Mikhail Fuast

It was becoming more and more clear that Mikhail's opponent did not become a royal guard by riding on the laurels of anybody else. From his form to his calm and calculated response to being charged by a cavalryman, the odds of being able to end the fight quickly and cleanly were looking grim for the lancer. And then his hit glanced off of the bastard's pauldron.

Well shit… Time had a funny way of slowing down when things went to hell. In this case, it was just long enough for Mikhail to notice the axe-fighter's plan. There was no chance of moving out of the way, which left him with a hard choice and only a split second to decide. On one hand, there was the option to roll with the hit and hope that if there was a follow up attack that he would be able to either parry it or avoid it. Or he could be an absolute idiot and hope it paid off.

The royal guards were given some of the best toys the kingdom could afford. Piercing their heavy plate mail was a dubious ordeal at best, but the price they paid for that kind of protection came with the severe weight of them. And that was a fact the totally inept decision-making portion of Mikhail's brain realized he could take advantage of.

In the moment before Rollo became all too familiar with the back of an axe, the cavalier relinquished his grasp on his spear in one deft motion and made a grab for the knight's wrist. Best case scenario, he would end up throwing the knight completely off balance and making him fall, which would then hopefully give him enough time to recover and circle back with his sword. Worst case though, he would end up looking like a complete idiot that dropped his spear and then fell off his horse because he overextended himself during the collision.

All in all, Mikhail absolutely detested what he had managed to come up with in his clairvoyant split-second. But seeing how he was already committed to it, he saw no reason to repress the insane grin gracing his face. Whelp, one way or another, this will be a moment I'll never forget.

[User]
Diana

Apparently reinvigorated by the appearance of their leader the men charged at them with renewed vigor. Diana simply smirked, they would be even easier to deal with when they were scared and angry. One axeman charged her directly seeing her spear, a mistake on his part. Diana held her lance out towards the man charging her and he grinned, chopping at it to knock it out of the way. Diana simply spun, moving her own weapon out of the way and causing the man to stumble off balance- directly into her shield that was powered by her spin. The man fell to the ground dazed and wasn't given a chance to rise by the lance he'd attempted to bat out of the way driving into his head. Diana's face showed no remorse as she returned to her original position. Another axeman approached her slightly more warily attempting to close the distance between the offending spear and Diana's more vulnerable self. His careful approach meant Diana couldn't do much more than nick him without leaving those behind her open to attack but the man didn't make any progress either and would be forced to relent before those tiny cuts started adding up. The wyvern rider seemed to be doing well for herself, already laying low two of the bandits. Personally Diana thought that going through the work of flanking was somewhat excessive and that they should just kick ass, but it was fundamentally sound.

[Assistant]
For someone who uses an axe, the warrior did a fine job of breaking stereotypes. He came off as collected and disciplined, instead of loud and brash. He seemed like someone who was ready to most any situation, but right now proved itself to be the exception. Mikhail's grapple attempt to topple his foe would have worked because of this, but the warrior's raw strength was simply enough to remain standing as Mikhail effectively pulled himself off of his own steed as Rollo raced by the unmoved soldier. His body tumbled to the ground, landing face up just in time to see the warrior hold his axe over Mikhail.

"If it wasn't entirely clear, we are not sparring." He rose the weapon high above himself, ready to bring it down upon the green knight.

[User]
The battle was certainly going lopsided in favor of squad Quinque, Heike observed from a distance. Was the element of surprise really so vital for their strategy? Could his squad have beaten them back this easily if they hadn't been caught off guard? The thought, frankly, pissed him off. Having freed his hands, and spotting no immediate rescue forthcoming, he prepared himself to make his way towards the squad when he caught movement out of the corner of his eyes.

He ducked under the grab of the bandit who snuck up behind him, and slammed his head upwards, smashing it into the brute's nose. Oh yes, he was pissed off.

"Son of- you BITCH I'll fucking cut your guts out for that!"

With blood pouring out of his nose, and tears in his eyes, the bandit gripped his axe and prepared to swing, but an enraged Heike lunged at his throat instead. The axe flew wide as the two lost balance and began tumbling down the slope, each trying to strangle the other, towards the raging battle below.

*****

Emboldened by their leader, the bandits charged forward in spite of their recent losses. They were out for blood now, and Tybalt's attempts at getting their attention had paid dividends. One bandit threw a hand axe at him right as the companion of the one he burned earlier, filled with rage, charged him from the side. Another of the axe users was trying to use his size to break through Diana's guard, willing to take a hit to take her out in one swing. For now, they ignored the Wyvern rider who had caused them so much trouble while she was preoccupied with her latest kill.

The flanking maneuver may have been a mistake after all, it effectively evened the playing field of the current battlefield, and allowed the bandits to retain their momentum in spite of the losses.

[Assistant]
Things were not going well, even though t:he plan had gone exactly as Mikhail had hoped. Not only did he manage to get a hold on the knight, but he was even able to keep his grip after the impact. And yet here he was, on his way to give the ground a big old kiss, all because the freak of nature stood still. No cunning counter, no artful dodge, just being a stubborn jack ass that refused to be moved.

Needless to say, the cavalier's breath was unceremoniously knocked out of him upon hitting the ground. But the sight of the axe about to fall on him made it quite clear that there would be time to catch his breath. By some strike of luck, or perhaps it was merely a consolation for his titanic failure, his spear had ended up right next to him.

The axe started to sail downwards. If he had the time and oxygen to spare, Mikhail had a number of rude things he wanted to follow up the smug jack ass's comment with. But alas, it was not meant to be. Instead, he mustered what strength he had left and barrel rolled out of the axe's way, grabbing his spear mid-roll.

The axe fighter was already committed to his swing. Assuming he was human, which truthfully Mikhail was beginning to doubt, the axe fighter would take a moment to recover from such a heavy impact. And in that precise moment, Mikhail planned to make a thrust at the knight's exposed outer neck. Seeing as the cavalier's attack would be made with him on his back, the strike itself would be severely lacking in force, but it should still be strong enough pierce skin if his aim was true.

Now don't kill the bastard, just send him a message, the cavalier reminded himself, grimacing from both the pain and his overall distaste for his current situation.  And that damn horse is certainly taking its sweet time.


[System]
Nickname: 'Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!!'
Age: 20
Gender: female
Power: walking through walls, dissolve and appear out of a sudden, deafening scream, creating illusions
Species: Ghost
Crush: -
Relationship: -
Appearance:

Personality: Actually, Maxine is a very cheerful and friendly person. She has some issiues with her past and get's melancholic sometimes, but for the rest of the day, she enjoys 'life' at the fullest.
Bio/history: TBR
Likes: the beach, sunshine, dark humor, cemetries
Dislikes: Horror movies, olives, arrogant people, talking about her life before death
Other: Maxine has a solid form, so everybody can see her, touch her and talk to her. She is not really a registered citizen and has no home, but she spends most of her time at the cemetry or at the beach. Eventhough she is dead, Maxine has the same problems as humans like getting hungry, the need to sleep and feeling cold, which makes her life sometimes more troublesome.

[User] To reduce impact damage I would grasp onto the cloaked figure with both arms, legs, and tail, preventing him from taking too much damage as my back would hit the earth and skid across the sand.once I started to get up I would force the stranger back against the sand with my claw at his throat. Held back rage burning within my eye as I panted from fatigue and exhaustion, blood still leaking from my wound dripping all over the man's clothes

[Assistant]
@KaijuBaragon@Letmehaveone2@Overlord24
Ayaka had no idea where Drake had come from, but he seemed to be using her wind to his advantage. Apparently this crazy toy guy had a lot more enemies where she and Arin came from. He gave one last threat before letting go. "Whatever..." Ayaka said letting her tornado die down. "What a weirdo.."

[User] Damien was grasped by Drake and they hit the ground together. In an instant he felt Drake's claws against his throat. "Are you going to kill me? Will that make you feel better. What are you, some kind of vigilante? If you kill me, you'll be just as bad as me. If not worse. You'll be the cruel demon who killed an insane man. Arrest me? I could escape any prison.". Damien choked out an insane laugh.

[Assistant] There was obvious pent up anger being, or at least, attempted to restrain with my conscience, the resulting cobfliction made me laugh with madness. "so much would be solved by just killing you. I dont consider myself a vigilante, do not test my mercy stranger." My grip tightened on him. I refused to kill him, to let my primeval nature take over, but what else could be done to stop his madness, like he said he can easily escape any attempt of imprisonment, atleast the methods I could think of

[User]
Graeme feels the sand get into his boots. He smiles wryly - no matter how tightly he ties his laces it always finds its way in there. He almost likes the feeling.

A short distance away, a spectacle unfolds before Graeme. A small group of people are surrounded by what seems to be a dying sandstorm, and a large, crimson figure pins a man down mercilessly. Without much time to process the situation, a small spark of anger was ignited in Graeme - he'd seen a scene like this before. He would not run this time.

Graeme exhaled and took a wide legged stance. Sand was kicked up with the suddenness of his movements. He felt a familiar tug in his chest - the draw of magic. He pulled back his cloak and hood, revealing lightweight, ornate armour that glinted silver in the sun. White mist swirled from his bracers. The ground rumbled as he was about to unleash his power.

[Assistant] "What would be solved by killing me, exactly? You have a desire that you have deep down, to be like what I am. A monster. A maniac. Maybe you already are. Maybe we all are. Maybe I'm no more insane than you, or any random person on the street. Why would you have mercy? The gunshot with the dead shopkeeper? That was me. I shot him. He felt no pain. But you will. By holding in the rage, the monster deep inside, you will have pain. Unimaginable pain." Damien stared with his red eyes into Drake's soul. Damien noticed a man in the distance, rumbling. "Perhaps this is the end for both of us, my friend." @Jhett314

[User]
Viktor had left the diner by now and was once again walking around. So, far the city seemed fine, but he was sure it wouldn't be long before there would be a life to save or a crime to stop. For now, he just kept walking.

Kendra had been in her cave in the forest for quite awhile now and was getting restless and hungry. She walked out to where she buried her rabbit earlier and dug it up with her paws. She grabbed the rabbit before walking to a spot under a tree. She set the rabbit down and stood there as she began to eat it.

It took a bit, but Arin finally calmed himself. "Maybe we should try hanging somewhere where it can just be you and me." He told his girlfriend, thinking that the only way they could ever get alone time would be a place where nobody else would go. However, it was only a suggestion.

[Assistant] The full force of Graeme's power exploded beneath the beach. Like clockwork, three giant metal hands crashed onto the beach, creating several small eruptions of sand. Focussing his will, the hands were directed to move towards the entangled two, extending from where they emerged. Light glinted on their palms as the crashed down into the ground swiftly, sending rocks flying and waves smashing back into the ocean.

[User] the soul he looked at wasn't so much a soul as it were a solution of two souls trying to remain mixed. I'd glare at the hooded stranger before looking to what he was referring to, the man charging at us had a distinct magic about him, such power and unexpected company had my eyes widen in suprise @jhett314

[Assistant] @Jhett314 id leap off of the hooded man and covered my face with my arms from the blowing sand, an accomplice of the mad man perhaps? I glared at him with my torch like eyes. "I dont suppose your here to take care of the murderer." I asked, still trying to suppress my rage as my tail coiled behind me

[User]
Graeme let the Hands raise slowly. They were poised around the man on the ground and creature in the sea. Through very weak perception, he could feel the heat emanating from the creature through the Hands. It was powerful, and angry. Still standing back, the Hands started swaying slowly as they readied an attack.

"Get up" Graeme called out to the figures. While he tried to sound intimidating, the mask made his voice difficult to distinguish above the waves. "Now."

[Assistant] @dragonmancer Damien laughed as Drake quickly leapt to the sea. He stopped laughing when he saw the metal hand, poised above his head. He stood. It was time to put on his sane act again. "Help me! This man attacked me for no reason. I think we wanted to mug me!"

[User] I glared at the hooded stranger and his lies, tempted to consume him in fire. "He is a murderer and ill in mentality."

[Assistant] @Jhett314 "Look at him! He's a demon! He probably wants to burn this whole city to the ground." Damien said, countering what Drake had just said. He looked over at the masked man with a pleading look. "Please, kill him, we don't know what he might do if we don't!"

[User]
Graeme eyed the man. He looked scared. A few more Hands emerged from the ground underneath the victim to cover him in a protective grasp. Graeme himself advanced, heading toward the water and summoning more Hands to restrain the beast if needed. It's crimson scales were iridescent. The façade of beauty always seemed to surround these creatures.

"You there. Creature in the sea." Graeme stopped at the water's edge, feeling the force of the waves lap against his toes. "Explain yourself."

[Assistant] I looked down at the hands before returning my stern, fire-like emerald eyes to the new stranger. "That guy has some power over toys and he's been using that to go around attacking innocents." I exclaimed as calmy as I could. The water would seem to boil and steam around my legs like a cauldron over fire.

[User] Graeme glanced from the draconic being to the man. And back again. He did not trust the creature, but the glint of its eyes didn't seem to be deceitful. He let the hands recede. "Step forth from the ocean." He turned to the man, still surrounded in Hands. "What's your name, fellow?"

[Assistant] @Jhett314 Damien chuckled quietly under the protection of the metal hands. He had done it. He had tricked the masked man into doing his bidding. Once Drake was dead, Damien would sneak out and run. He would find some more people to terrorise. Maybe he would slit the throat of the tornado girl. He heard the masked man ask what his name was. "My name is Damien" he said, trying to sound scared.

[User]
Maxine strayed through the streets like a cat. She didn't really have a plan what to do but climbing over fences, hopscotching across the roofs or just going with the flow of the masses on the streets made the hours pass by. Without any obligations days feeled like minutes and years like hours, doing the same things on and on. Taking a walk, watching people or teasing someone. But it didn't bother her. Instead, it felt like a very long vacation and wasting time was a thing she got used to.
A long time ago, Maxine had realised that this city is full of extraordinary people. She had talked to many of them, wondered how some would hide their identitiy, because in her life, she had never realised that nearly every second person in this city is some kind of abnormal. And since she came to realization, observing people was her favourite occupation besides wasting time.
As she thought about it, an odd looking person catched her eyes. He had a mask on his face, which she thought was very beautiful. Her first thought was, that he was a street artist - maybe a frustrated one, because he wasn't really doing anything that someone would call a performance and she could imagine that staying on the streets for hours to get some change was really frustrating. - She watched him going down the streets and her second thought was, that he called it a day already and was going home now. 'It is the time of the day....nothing special', she thought next and then decided to follow him. On the way she changed to her nonsolid form, creating an illusion of a cat, while her real body was floating like billows of smoke right behind his back.
She followed him to the beach, and was surprised by the turmoil. He ran away and Maxine couldn't act that fast to stay behind him. After a few seconds, the illusion changed to a bird to find herself a place in the crown of a tree.

[Assistant] I'd walk out of the water, a trail of sizzling, boiling water and dead sea creatures behind me as I reached sure, the heat radiating off of me would settle as I would douse my rage. I would be silent as I watched the two strangers now speak

[User] amidst the scene I witnessed a bird morphing to a cat. And now that I was no longer needed here, I decided to investigate. "Pardon me for a moment, strangers." I said before taking off, flying towards the tree the bird had sheltered at. I looked up at the branches above trying to locate the oddity. "Oi, show yourself." I spoke smoothly as possible with the rough voice I had. My wings now folding behind me.

[Assistant] The branches were moving and bending as he landed but the bird didn't move as it was glue to branch it was sitting. The bird didn't look alive, more like a stuffed animal and as the man called her to show herself, the illusion dissapeared. "Not one of my best", she said as real form appeared. Black smoke swirled between the leafs and fell to the ground.

[User] Graeme glanced back to the ocean and saw the half-dragon unfurl his wings. He was trying to escape! "Halt!" He yelled, but not before the creature had already become half its original size in the cloudless sky. Graeme felt another flicker of anger, mixed with exasperation. He decided to follow the creature and leave the man at the beach. "Stay if you wish. I'll be back soon." The Hands retreated back into the ground swiftly, leaving the young man exposed, and he set off in pursuit of the dragon.

[Assistant] "I didn't want to interrupt you. I'm just watching, that's all.", she said then and watched into his ruby eyes. Hers were shining white like two little nigth lights as she studied his face.

[User] I stared back at the strange apparition before me, seeing into her eyes I felt the presence of something otherworldly. "Watching, huh?" I blinked, unsure of what to make of this entity, my expression, aside from curiosity and awe, was neutral. I could make out her feminine design out of this smoke like substance the figure was made out of, I tilted my head puzzled.

[Assistant] @dragonmancer Damien watched with a smile on his face as the masked man ran off. This was the perfect time to make a speedy escape to his abandoned beach house. There, he had resources in case he was followed. He gave a small chuckle before sprinting off away from the people, and ran into a thicket of palm trees and out the other side.

[User] "Yes, I'm curious because you're fighting.", she responded in a quite reserved way and imitated his expression. His eyes were remarkable, a contrast to the rest of his body. Maxine wondered, why she never met him before. She would notice him immediatley with his appearance, but this feeled like the first time, she met a dragon. Again, this city was to big to remember every person she had seen before. "Why did you stop? Your enemy will run away if you stay here and talk to me." As her sight wandered past the dragon, she noticed another person, the man with the mask. She saw him running into their direction and smiled. "You should be fighting with him", she said as she pointed at Greame.


[System]
Age: 44

Class: Naval Senior Armsman

Equipment:
Light Carapace Armor - Stukov cannot afford to be weighed down in the tight, fast moving brawl of a boarding action, repelling or engaging in, so the only real piece of armor the Senior Armsman wears is a reinforced Carapace chestplate, which also includes his backpack of ammo and oxygen for his rebreathing kit, a model capable of sealing against loss of oxygen, although true void exposure won't make him last long, due to the sheer cold of the Void.

Lucius pattern Mk 22c Shotgun - The shotgun of choice for Stukov, this eight round revolving magazine lets him slam through shells at a frightening rate, with a heavy cartridge that shreds through most enemies not wearing heavy, quality Carapace. And this assumes hits on any given armor's strong points. Like many shotguns, plenty of various ammo types exist for his shotgun, and while Stukov carries plenty of slug and buckshot, he carries a handful of Hellfire and blessed buckshot for handling Daemons in specific. Stukov has no problem using whatever ammo he can get his hands on, or issued for a given mission.

Foehammer - Known by its more humble name the Shotgun Pistol, Stukov uses this as a backup when his larger, bulkier shotgun isn't an option. Unlike his Mk 22c, it is a single shot per load weapon that he usually loads with oversized slug. This is for the reason that if he needs to hit something a distance off, he doesn't need to waste time changing loads in his main gun, or his side arm. And if they are heavily armored, slug has a better chance to punch through than buckshot or most conventional ammo loads.

Combat Knife - Not much to be said for Stukov's knife, it is a fairly standard issue, single edge blade with a point for stabbing as well as slashing. Pretty much a last resort when both his sidearm and main shotgun are of no use to him in a situation.

Flash Grenades x2, Concussion Grenades x2 - Flash Grenades, true to their name, emit a blinding flash of light that blinds both organic and mechanical means of sight for a period of time, making them easy targets so long as they were not protected from the effects. Concussion grenades utilize a shockwave that, while it does little real damage to ship structure or hull, the sheer pressure of the shockwave and the din of noise ensures that, even if the pressure didn't kill a foe, they won't be hearing anytime soon.

Against All Odds: When he was a rookie Armsman aboard his first Imperial Navy vessel, during a transit in the warp the Gellar fields failed and hordes of daemons poured into various breaches in the hull across the Cruiser. Whether it was divine intervention from the God Emperor himself, or sheer stubborn determination from the surviving crew, the Cruiser was able to emergency shift back into real space and drive the remaining daemons and their slaves out the airlocks and back into oblivion where they belonged. The Cruiser suffered over 75% causalities, and could barely limp to the nearest Imperial holding.

Boots on the Ground: Rather than being left to sit around and wait for a new crew to be brought in, the Armsman Stukov was now reassigned to an Apocalypse Class Battleship, since she had recently seen vicious combat and had lost a fair number armsman, amongst other crew. One of his first assignments as part of the new crew was a shore party that was deployed to secure sensitive fleet records lost in a planet wide raid by Dark Eldar. Once again, most of his comrades were wiped out but he survived and personally hauled the reclaimed records back into orbit before the Orbital Bombardment vaporized all Dark Eldar that could be found.

Close Quarters Chaos: Earning his rate as a Senior Armsman, and the right and occurrence of leading junior Armsman into battle gains those that would stand against the Imperial Navy and her vessels. So his first tasking was as part of a wave of Assault craft, specifically the Shark Assault Boat. Under heavy interceptor and bomber escorts most of the first wave of Assault Boats reached their targets, a miracle in and of itself. Heavy casualities were sustained as Stukov rallied any and all Imperials he could find and stormed the bridge of the craft. When challenged to a duel for control over the vessel, he shot the enemy captain cleanly, taking his head off as a fine mist. The following chaos as Stukov led his men back to the boats, leaving the enemy ship in chaos as it fought itself for control as several friendly Imperial vessels bombarded the craft into oblivion the moment its shields failed.

Not one Step Further: The Battleship he was assigned to came under heavy fire and was badly damaged, suffering a force re-entry into the nearby plant and crashing down behind a long forgotten temple to the Emperor. After the survivors took refuge there, they had to hold out until either the Battleship's surviving engines could be overloaded, finishing the beast off beyond any salvage hope, or help arrived. With nowhere to run or hide, Stukov rallied the remaining combat capable men and women, armed them, and held out as long as possible, far longer than anyone short of even an Astartes could consider thanks to tactics and a desperation coupled with nothing to lose. The survivors were saved by passing Inquisitorial vessels, introducing Stukov to work with the Inquisition and, eventually, Inquisitor Caphus himself.

Time with Inquisitor: Nearly ten years aboard his vessels, only recently tasked formally to his retinue.

Appearance:

40K Knowledge Question: Erebus of the Word Bearers Legion

[User]
As the group walked through the factory, an audible groan could suddenly be heard from Adrianne through her helmet as M4R1-A succeeded in following the worker to the restroom, as well as record all the sounds of flatulence and discharging that was natural from a human being!

"Ow, aww... no, no-no-no! Turn off feedback! Turn off!" Adrianne promptly spoke into her helmet, quickly shutting off any feedback from her servo-skull as she instead focused solely on following the group! Refusing to look anyone else in the eye, she simply resumed an adamant stance as she followed them without speech.

As they finally arrived at the hatch however, Adrianne let Stukov lead on.

She could feel wave of foul energies emanate from the hatch as Stukov opened it, but paid it little mind. It was after all to be expected. She had sensed the presence before. The fact that it was getting both stronger and more raw could only be an indication of the fact that they were getting closer to the source, whatever it might have been!

As Stukov had reached the bottom and disappeared, Adrianne would step towards the hatch.

It was a steep drop, with a ladder built into the wall. It was hardly a very accessible point, being little more than a small hole, and she doubted that this was some part of the official building.

"Move fast, there are others down here. They are not getting away this time..."

"Patience, Stukov. We are a team, remember? ... ." Adrianne would speak through comms with her usual calm and disaffected tone, noticing the heightened sense of urgency in Stukov's voice.

Rather than taking the ladder, Adrianne would simply move one foot in front of the other, placing her boot over the wide-open hatch, and take another step; allowing herself to fall freely down towards the bottom of the corridor. Yet before she would reach the floor, she'd summon a slight kinetic spell, reducing her speed. This caused her to touch down on the main concrete floor of the corridor with a light bump in a kneeling position, before easily raising herself to a standing position.

The air around her in the corridor was foggy, the industrial lamps lighting the corridor barely able to penetrate the thick carpet. Scanning the corridor, Adrianne would see no sign of the armsman anymore. He was gone.

"Stukov, do you copy?" Adrianne spoke into her comm, but got no response.

Instead, she waited, only to suddenly hear a loud boom in the distance, immediately followed by the sound of autogun fire somewhere further down inside the basement complex!

"Stukov!"

Adrianne yelled, yet no response.

"Sister, get down here! Stukov has run off!" Adrianne would then call out through her mask and up to Aviza standing above the hatch, urging her to come down.
"Hurry!"

[Assistant]
"What seems to be the problem Adrianne?" asked Aviza after hearing the groan that came from the distraught Psycher. The question was quickly answered when Aviza remembered that the Psychers Servo-Skull M4R1-A had been ordered to follow the warehouse worker who said he was heading to the restroom. Holding back a laugh at the Psychers misfortune, Aviza quickly responded by saying "I guess he was telling the truth about having to go to the restroom, for better or worse." The Sister of Battle fell silent for the moment and followed with the rest of the squad, keeping a close eye on her surroundings. They passed multiple areas where an ambush could have been waiting for them, but it seemed whatever truly was here was more interested in keeping itself hidden than confronting the group. Once they arrived at the basement, Aviza could not immediately notice anything out of place.

After exploring the area though, Stukov managed to find a trapdoor. "Wait for the rest of us Stukov, I have enhanced optics on my helmet that will allow me to see through the dark or anything else that may prove an obstacle." Unfortunately, Stukov made his way down the latter while informing someone to spot him. Letting out a sigh, Aviza kneeled down by the hatch and peered down into the darkness below. "Stukov, status update, what is going on down there and what do you see?" The response came but was filled with static from something interfering with coms. The words Witchcraft and Reinforcement were heard but little past that. Still kneeling by the hatch, Aviza waited with an awkward silence as Adrianne tried to remain in contact with Stukov. Adrainne then yelled into her com for the Sister of Battle to join her inside of the tunnel. "I'll be there very soon." Turning on her enhanced optics, she jumped down through the hatch and landed below with a thunk, kicking up a heavy amount of dirt, dust and whatever else had been lying dormant in the area. "Shall I take lead or would you like to?"

[User]
"Shall I take lead or would you like to?"

Behind her helmet, Adrianne raised an eyebrow as she stared back at Aviza.

"You are the one with the big gun and all the power armor - you lead!" Adrianne was quick to reply to the sister's question, as she grabbed Aviza's shoulderpiece and turned the sister around before pushing her down the corridor towards Stukov's last known location!

It did not incur to her as particularly selfish to use the Sister of Battle as a literal human shield. In fact, it was the epitome of good teamwork! After all, it was only natural for the tankiest member of the group to take point!

"Move. Move!" She yelled, giving Aviza a 'shove-of-motivation' whenever the battle sister may have hesitated as the two of them quickly traveled down through the corridor as they followed the sounds of gunfire. The limited visibility, tight space and Adrianne's own impatience inevitably lead to Aviza bumping against the narrow walls or the two of them occasionally crashing into corners together before rushing onwards.

Yet finally, they saw the shape of Stukov armed with his autogun, standing and firing into an open metal door.

"Stukov, what's going on?!" Sounded Adrianne's voice as she invariably shoved Aviza in front of her and into the doorway, all the while the Psyker's attention was focused on the armsman.

[Assistant]
Stukov didn't hear the rest of the retinue over the perceived din of weapons fire, instead moving into the room and ducking a cultist weapon, jamming the bayonet into the offending heretics gut before twisting and slashing out, disembowling the cultist with one smooth, practiced motion before drawing his sidearm and putting a round through his skull, firing rounds at the lead Cultist as he fled through a back curtain from his autogun as it clicked empty, narrowly missing the cloaked heretic. The silence finally fell as he reloaded, the empty magazine hitting the ground with an empty, echoing in the sudden silence as it finally hit him that it was dead silent, and he glanced back seeing both Smiles and Sis in the doorway, turning back towards the curtain, talking with an old authoritative voice, clearly falling into his old ways of leading a charge instead of stringing along after others. "Welcome to the party ladies. Cultists are a certainty, and considering the silence and state of that ritual, daemons are here or on the way. The leader, at least one of them, is running, try and keep up."

About that point a Daemonette came twirling out from behind the curtain, making almost no sound as she came out of the corridor that was behind the curtain, and the same direction that the cultist leader had fled. Most Imperial Servants typically panicked when faced with daemons, for most institutes did not face the threat, active or not, of daemons on a daily basis. Armsman were one such institute within the Imperium of Man that faced such beings and were expected to succeed. Well, against mortal followers of Chaos and all who threatened the Imperial Navy, technically, but daemons fell into that group. And Stukov had faced his fair share of daemons in the past, and with a grim expression he ducked the clab like appendage on her leading left hand, parrying the thin bone blade extending from her right wrist with his bayonet and shoulder checking the daemonette sideways into one of the heavy machines, creating distance and barking out orders, autogun only lifted in time to catch the rebounding daemonette as she tried to gut the senior Armsman. "Scratch that, daemons are here. Keeping up is all the more important, since...BASTARD!"

That explicative was a by product of being grazed by the daemonette's claw, as he barely kept up a defensive pace against the daemon, the close fight giving no room for ranged support from the others. Considering the echoing, haunting laughs and increased volume of unintelligible, base whispers, the warp was leaking into this basement readily now. Several more daemonettes leaped out after Smiles and Sis, seeing them both as far graver threats than the lone, outclassed Armsman that was being backed out of sight behind a piece of heavy machinery. However, several moments after being pushed out of sight a keening howl of a daemon slain was heard and the rapidly fading body of the daemonette hurtled into sight, and Stukov moved past in a blur, brilliant sapphire energy burning in his eyes as he tore out of sight, leaving barely a word behind as he ran after the cultist, moving inhumanly fast and completely unaware of it. He was also unaware of the fact that daemons were actively being drawn to this weak point in reality now, and it was only a matter of time before the basement inadvertently became a permanent gate to the Warp, a daemon gate to pour pure evil into the world. "Stay alive and catch up, sever the connection and the Daemons will fade."


[System]
Race: Human
Faction/Unit: Mercenary Captain, leader of the Red Fangs
Location: King Harold's Court
Synopsis of Role: * Infamous sorcerer and mercenary
* Helped Harold defeat William of Barkstead and later Brand of Nightwood.
* Leader of the Red Fangs, a mostly human band of sellsword reavers originally from the North but with a long history of service across the world

[User]
"T-t-t-title's g-good in the Company," he pointed out to his 'brother,' "And Myrmith was barking," he explained as he squatted down on his haunches amongst the flowers. His warg there, a truly nasty piece of business that looked like it'd served in a couple campaigns itself, seemed pretty in tune with the orc, who was all long, lanky muscle, hunched over, with a topknot of black hair. He had tusks and it all looked a bit savage and unkempt, but the actual equipment was carefully maintained; immaculate fletchings on the arrows, cord-wrapped knife handles and an axe that was balanced and sized for an orc, handle axed and head sharpened. It was easy for a less observant person to write off the orc as some sort of dimwit.

It was a lesson that a lot of beings didn't survive. Dakgu was a nasty piece of work, after all.

But it was true, an entire company of pissed off orcs tended to respect one of their own that went one to one with a powerful knife-ear ranger and came out on top, but a bunch of elven rangers might not be so happy. On the other hand, Myrmith Tinuviel was genocidal.

They'd have to deal. The truth was that in taking Ceril for their latest employer, the Company did come up against the forces that the Elven kingdom of Torceleblas supported, and killed quite a few of theirs in the process. That was war, and if tuskers took a certain pleasure in it, that was quite natural to them. In any event, the Queen there wasn't anything on Bloody Harold. Once the fighting was done, she was rather intent on running a profitable, peaceful kingdom without exacting bloody revenge on anyone that ever disrespected her.

She didn't know her father at all and wasn't trying to impress him. Bloody Harold? Always trying to impress one of his ancestors or show them up. Dakgu? Grateful he didn't know a father. Well, except Brand and he didn't leave the Nightwood trying to please the old ranger either. Dakgu's life was the one he chose, and he wasn't going to the likes of Harvey dictate that to him.

And perhaps there would be a reckoning with his elven 'kin.' There was never much love lost there in a lot of ways, but Dakgu always held his bargains and gave his word in good faith. The elaborate and bloody vengeance piece? Keeping the world in line a bit.

"Sides, we ain't here," he had to speak carefully, because of his impediment, "to fight each other."

[Assistant]
The Prince was in armour, having just trounced several of his gentlemen on the tilt field, when his constable approached with a stocky, plain-faced spatharios at his back. "My Lord, I think you know Andreas Alcaeus, who has served four years with you as a member of the Guard." He bowed and extended an arm towards the man, who was quite obviously nervous – he fidgeted in place, constantly making minute adjustments to his kit, which he had polished to a mirror sheen.

The Prince smiled warmly, and reached out to clap Andreas' shoulder. "You're leaving, then. I'll miss you – the sight of you always made me feel safe." He admitted, and laughed.

Andreas swallowed a sudden lump in his throat and bowed deeply. "I am needed home, your grace. My…father has passed, and I wish to be there for his burial."

The Prince nodded seriously and frowned in commiseration. "I'm sorry to hear that. Will you return afterwards?" Strangely, in his eyes the Prince spied a steely determination, and no small amount of anger.

Andreas stiffened, then said slowly, "If I am able, your grace."

The Prince leaned close and smiled. "Then I'll expect you back, Andreas." He turned to his constable. "See that his kit is well-stored. I grant him leave, but do not discharge him from my service."

"My Lord!" The constable replied, bowing slightly.

The Prince grinned and turned, calling over his shoulder. "Now get going!"

Andreas bowed again, as ceremony demanded, and walked from the Prince's presence to the guardroom, where he embraced a dozen close friends, drank a farewell cup of wine, and handed the steward his kit – his maille hauberk and his good cote of plates beautifully covered in the Imperial purple; his two purple cotes with matching hoods, for wear at court, and his hose of purple cloth. He went to hand in his badge, too – a cleverly fashioned thing of silver and gold enamel, with the Imperial double-headed eagle as the centerpiece – but the steward handed it back to him. "His Majesty expressly stated that you were to keep your badge, as you are on leave and not discharged from the Guard."

Andreas almost cried.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The apprentice cut the lashings on the sacking, revealing a rounded pommel on one end, ferruled in heavy bronze, balancing a fine sword blade at the other end. The hilt was worked in silver, and the guard made up of two griffin-heads; the fuller extended from the base of the hilt to two-thirds the way to the blade's tip. A tassel of Imperial purple hung from the base of the pommel in place of a peen block.

It was a guardsman's sword, but incomparably finer, made by a master and not by one of the dozens of journeyman smiths under the employ of the Domestikos.

Andreas couldn't help himself, and he whirled it between his hands, the blade cutting the air and the tip not quite brushing the plaster of the low room.

The apprentice flattened himself against the wall, and the master nodded, satisfied. "The sword you brought me was a fine enough weapon," the master said. "Competently made. But the finish," he winced, then shrugged. "And I thought that the balance could be improved."

Andreas just smiled in appreciation. The master added a scabbard – a sheath of wood covered in fine red leather with the Imperial insignia stamped in the center. Andreas counted down a hundred silver marks – a sizeable portion of four years' pay.

Andreas carried his new sword out to his riding horse and put it lovingly into the straps, close to hand. No one watching doubted that he'd handle it a dozen more times before he was clear of the suburbs. Or that he'd stop and use it on the first bush he found growing by the road.

"You ride today, then," the master said.

Andreas nodded. "I'm needed in the north," he said. "My father has passed."

The weapon smith nodded. "Send him my respects, then, and the sele of the day on you."

Andreas embraced the smith, stepped through the door, and walked his horse back up the road.

"There goes a good man," said the master to his apprentice. "I've known a few. And yet as fierce as a lion when his blood's up. A better knight than many who wear spurs."

The apprentice was too smitten with hero-worship to comment. The master tried not to wonder why a man would commission a sword for a funeral.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Nightwood was much the same as Andreas remembered. Same sights, same smells, and in many cases, even the same trees. Why, that tree there was where Brand showed him how to make his first snare, and just over yonder was the tree he had used to climb when he wanted to be alone.

He smiled sadly. There were a lot of memories in these woods. Good ones, mostly. But now they all felt a somewhat bitter, knowing what had happened to old Brand.

Andreas fingered the hilt of the sword at his side. He would bring justice back to these woods. For Brand.

It wasn't long until he reached the barrow. He touched the runes with a nostalgic fondness, and walked inside to greet his erstwhile family.

[User]
Nightwood, Some Time Previous

It was snowing, thick wet flakes that melted quickly into the soggy ground.

The clearing was orderly, with a large, square garden- well planted though Spring was still young- a small barn, and a tidy cottage of wood and clay with a freshly thatched roof. The Barkstead lads had evidently been hard at work for the old man, who'd never been one to allow his charges to wallow in grief.

The gnarled trunks of Nightwood closed around the homestead on all sides, budding branches reaching for the sky like twisted fingers uplifted in prayer. The only way to this place was through woods Brand knew better than any still living.

Anyone who came here was seen well before he arrived.

If the man who emerged into the clearing from the treeline knew that, he did not seem particularly perturbed by it. He was youngish looking -though he was not young- with a lean, weatherworn face, dark eyes, and a little smile that played across the corners of his mouth like he was in on something, some great funny secret soon to be revealed. He wore a simple black doublet and cloak. Snowflakes nested in his ruffled hair.

He was unarmed. And, in spite of the freezing mud, he was barefoot.

"Anyone home?" he called as he strode up the damp path to the cottage, "I think so-oh. Smells like someones just put out a cookin' fire. What're we makin'?"

A bowstring creaked as it was drawn. An old man rose slowly from the tangled foliage of the garden, arrow notched and ready to fire, aimed at the newcomer's head.

The stranger turned, his little smile widening into a lopsided grin, as though the prospect of an arrow in the throat was an unexpected thrill.

"Hello Brand," he said.

"Kadath," said Brand. His rugged face was hard as granite, eyes filled with murder. "What're you doing at my home?"

"You had to know Harry wouldn't let you alone after you spat on his offer," said Kadath, "Why didn't you run? Disappear with the boys into the woods? Too proud? Or just feeling your age?"

"Boys aren't here, they're nowhere you'll find 'em," said Brand.

"I doubt that, my old friend, I'm very good at finding."

A flock of birds erupted from the woods to the south. In the distance shouting could now be heard, the rough voices of hardened men, too many to count.

"Why'd you come ahead of your lackeys, then? Something to tell me?" asked Brand.

"Not my lackeys," said Kadath, shaking his head, "You won't find a Red Fang among 'em. I owe you that much."

Brand snorted, "Why're you here then?"

"Came for the boys, not for you," said Kadath, "More valuable to me alive and stowed away than with their little heads perched on Harry's parapet. Always good to have insurance, no? Specially since the King's starting to lose a step or two. Not handling guilt too well, I guess. Can't stomach it like you and I."

"I spent a lifetime working off the guilt you buried me in," said Brand.

Kadath shrugged and jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the treeline, where the shouting was growing closer. "You'll want me to find the Barkstead lads before they do. Where are they?"

"I'd rather the devils in all six hells find them than you," said Brand.

He loosed his arrow.