<div class="floatleft">(http://i5.minus.com/jm9uDpzOezHNQ.jpg)</div><strong>Name: Erik grimsby</strong><br/><strong>Team:</strong>Ghast<br/><strong>Location: Ghast Dorm</strong><br/><strong>Tags: Members of Team Ghast</strong><br/><br/>"You could probably use a fire crystal to keep the fuel warm enough to not freeze. Just a matter of balancing the temperature so it doesn't combust. I bet the science teacher would know more, though."  He offered, in regards to the motorcycle.<br/><br/>He sighed a bit as he slowly paced himself over towards the windows of the room. For sure, they were rarely opened; but during the day time, it allowed varying levels of light, and even a bit of solar heat.  After that slight sigh, he'd start speaking, recalling what he knew. "It was summer. Actually a pretty warm day, as far as Eis goes. I remember, I was oiling and cleaning Chernobog, when I heard the first screams. Someone said it was Beowolves, just a small band of them. That's not too uncommon here; it's why every town in Eis has a militia. So, near as I can figure, the active guard of the day would handle things. We'd get some injuries every now and again, but nothing too bad ever happened."<br/><br/>There was a moment where he paused, to breathe, and think. "But, then, someone kept calling for help. They were at the other side of the village. Then other cries, elsewhere. My father didn't even come inside our house; he just yelled for me to get on some gear, and get outside."<br/><br/>"It was the weirdest thing I ever saw. They used to attack in packs of three, or four... but here, they were in the dozens. My father saw more coming from the south, too. He said it was too dangerous, that we'd be spread too thin if we tried to protect the entire village...but we couldn't just let them slip through the cracks of our lines, either. He told me to gather a few others, start moving people to Eis. It was closest, after all, and the Irregulars are pretty good in a scrap. So, me, a dozen other members went out, trying to keep all the non-combatants safe. Anybody in the militia, and not assigned this task, were busy fighting."<br/><br/>"But, we didn't get too far before some of the Beowolves broke off and attacked us.  People scattered, the whole thing fell apart." Here, he became quiet, and sullen. He slowly turned to look at Gwen, and though he had previously held a fairly stoic demeanor, one might catch a glimpse of how haunted he was by what had happened. Some people, they could just blot it out... but Erik never did. It stayed with him, every day. "Your brother, Arthur, told me... he said 'Erik, get the children, I'll handle this.' He tried to rally the others, and I did my best to try and keep people together. Most of us got to Eis, even a few other Skulls that were part of the escort, and I went to the militia commander there, and told him about the situation."<br/><br/>"He organized search parties for the surrounding wilderness. And I went along with some two dozen militia members back to Dirge. When we got there, it was over. We found a few still wounded, and treated them as best we could, before they got escorted to Eis. Then... we went through, and made an accounting. We couldn't even identify some of the bodies. Nearly a hundred dead Beowolves, who knows how many escaped into the wilderness. Too many tracks to make sense of it all. We burned the Grimm corpses, and buried the dead in the tower, with their weapons, when we could even find them."<br/><br/>"You don't know about the towers, do you Ruby? I'll show you one some time. We can't bury our dead like the rest of the world, so we build towers to place them."  He paced his way over to the locker he had picked out, and opened it up. He reached into his gear; felt along his cloak for something. When he finds what he's looking for, he puts the cloak back in and shuts it. He is quite clearly carrying a beaten up looking metal flask, that is probably even older than he is. He opens it up, and takes a pull of its contents.  Because hey, alcohol makes everything better, right?<br/><br/>Well, at least it did for Erik. He never got drunk. Too much discipline for that. Didn't mean he wouldn't have just enough of a buzz to take the edge off his own misery, though.