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<|description|>Azerus Age: 19 Power: Energy ManipulationAzerus can manipulate natural energies, of himself, nature or his foe. At low levels it burns like white flames, traveling through and empowering parts of his body. Higher vibrations cause erratic energy that arcs and can be thrown around like lightning. Stilling or absorbing high levels of energy cause a freezing effect. Basically he can power up his physical attacks with fire lightning and ice. That's using his own energy and the energy around him. Lightning can arc and be thrown. It also speeds him up. White flames can ignite things, burn those that's touch him and gives him a boost to str. Cold is slower acting and moving, he can bolster his defence or freeze things he touches. Lastly Azerus can draw energy from a foe (usually unexpecting) it leaves them feeling lethargic and tired. Weak even. It takes a while to suck out someone's energy and Aspeth favours to do it prior to battle secretively or by drawing out the fight knowing the longer it goes the weaker they will slowly get. Appearance: Color and location of symbol: White with black outline, left ribs on his side Quotes:"Life is black and white, there is the powerful with right to rule and the weak bound to follow" "Those that fear the dark haven't seen what the light can do." Bio:Azerus was born into a dark guild. Both his parents esteemed members. Before his birth Azerus was held to high expectation, which he had lived up too. Having been a prodigy at the age of seven they began weaponising him earlier then any other. He had both a lavish and strict upbringing. Expenses were never of any concern yet he hadn't the luxury to indulge in his own thoughts or concerns. He was told exactly what to do, when and how to do it. His young body forced to endure long hours of training and punishment and despite exceeding most others, his efforts were always met with cold disappointment. He was but a child when he started working. A cold upbringing creating a cold wizard. Personality:Malicious and spiteful Azerus is extremely arrogant believing himself fit to rule. He is ambitious and power hungry only to be out done by his father. His arrogance and cocky nature often get him into trouble but his sharp wit and ruthless ferocity see him out of it. Reason for joining: The dark guild was eventually shut down and Azerus parents imprisoned for their misdeeds leaving the child all alone. Azerus who still wanted to grow stronger and prove himself sought out the toughest guild by name. Fairytail.</s> <|message|>Moeasha After staring at the board for quite a while, Moeasha finally decided on the mission 'Find Lost Father'. She took the paper down and stuffed it into her cloak pocket. Smiling, Moeasha made her way over to the bar for a quick drink and bite to eat before heading out on her mission. She asked the kindly woman behind the bar for a soup and large glass of strawberry lemonade. Moesha spun around in her chair, waiting for her order, watching the people move about the guild hall.</s> <|message|>Charles Lockwell Charles would come walking into the guild, his chain wrapped around his arm, and a bag in his hand. coming from a job, he yawns stretching "...tired..." he would look around seeing his other guild mates going about their business. he wondered if he should bother speaking to them, then changes his mind and yawns again.</s> <|message|>Azerus With silent purposeful strides Azerus made his way to the vacant seat besides Moeasha. With a throat clearing cough he bumps against her as he takes his seat. "Moeshy, Moeshy..." he says softly whilst shaking his head looking down at the table. He raises a hand and held between his fingers is the job ticket he slipped from her cloak pocket. In an instant it goes up in a flash of white flames. "You really gotta start aiming bigger, like this one." he says as he lays out a new job card before her. It wasn't on the board earlier so Azerus must have snatched it as soon as it was put up. The reward was nearly four times that of what Moeasha's previous job was, but Azerus wasn't in it for the money. It was a monster hunting job, the beast was terrorising a nearby fishing town... And there it was, Moeasha's powers would be useful at a seaside location. Azerus just stared at her patiently, his empty daring eyes examining hers, a self-serving charming grin painted on his lips.</s> <|message|>Moeasha Light Moeasha watched as her mission went up in smoke, frowning. "Hey!" she said indignantly, but then paused to examine the mission Azerus had placed down. She had heard the rumors others of the guild often whispered about Azerus, but she had yet to personally converse with him. The mission was a hefty sum more than her last one, and Moeasha was still going to trust that her horoscope was correct! Smiling, Moeasha nodded. "Thank you! This job is perfect for me. But I will split money with you, yes?" Just then Moeasha's drink and food were placed down and she thanked the bartender and dug in, enjoying the warm soup and refreshing strawberry lemonade.</s> <|message|>Azerus "Whatever." he says dismissively as he waves away the thought of money. "You can help with the investigation, search and what ever troubles that come along the way, but the beast, the big ol monster, what ever it is, it is mine! Ok?" Azerus speaks matter-of-factly, his finger assertively tapping down heavily on the paper. Before Moeasha can reply Azerus stands. "You have one hour to eat and get ready, we leave then after. Oh and please know I will not tolerate lateness so I advise that you don't test my patience." Then with a very polite, proper and gentlemanly bow Azerus gives her a warm smile and walks away but not before saying one last thing. "Welcome to the team."</s> <|message|>Moeasha Light Moeasha shrugged, she was fine letting Azerus kill the monster, if that meant she got the money. Moeasha quickly finished up her meal, left her tip on the bar top, and headed to refill her water skein, then she stood outside the guild hall. She knew she was early, but Azerus did say he didn't want her to be tardy, so Moeasha figured she would play it safe. Everything she owned was on her person, anyway.</s> <|message|>Azerus The clopping of hooves approached the guild at a mere five minutes prior the set rendezvous time. Azerus reaches down a helping hand to Moeasha from atop a brilliant white lean stallion. He seemed unimpressed with the fine horse. "You don't mind riding through the night?" he asks. As always his questions didn't seem much like questions at all. "We have quite the distance to cover."</s> <|message|>Moeasha "A horse!" Moeasha exclaimed in awe. She grinned and responded, "That is fine! Though I will eventually need rest. So I may work at my best!" Moeasha giggled as she realized she had rhymed. The human language is so fun!, she thought to herself. As they rode along, Moeasha watched the sights pass by, grinning happily. This was her first horseback ride since coming to Fiore. But she quickly sobered while thinking of the coming mission. She needed to be serious and assist in any way she could!</s> <|message|>Azerus They ran wildly and freely through the brisk cool air of the falling night. After darkness began to set Azerus held out his hand in front of them and a swirling ball of white flame appeared in his palm giving them a guiding light and a small wisp of warmth. They made it to the small fishing town a few hours before midnight. The horses energy was surprisingly faultless, it appeared it could carry on even further. Azerus on the other hand was suspiciously showing signs of fatigue. He dismounted and offered a helping hand. His gentlemanly nature showing once again. The town had a simple yet quaint humble beauty. The moon glistened against the nearby gently crashing waves serenading the cobble streets with its song. It was quiet and dark, Azerus didn't see or hear the commotion of a fierce monster battle that he had been hoping for. "Ok, you are up. Find me my monster." His disappointment quickly growing into an eager excitement.</s> <|message|>Moeasha Moeasha thanked Azerus as he helped her down. She felt the fading warmth of the cobblestones beneath her bare feet as they still held stubbornly to the heat of the days sun. She breathed in deep, feeling the ocean in the air. "Such a pretty town," Moeasha breathed out. "Why would a monster target it?" She looked to Azerus, "Perhaps we should find an inn for the night. Not many people will be awake at this hour, I think. Plus we've been riding since morning. You look like a rest would do you good, and I also would like to sleep."</s> <|message|>Azerus "I could wake them!" A very serious and mischievous gleam took over Azerus's face. He held up a small bright sparking ball of flame. The light highlighted the unnatural bags beneath his eyes and it was evident he strained to control his wavering magic. As a bead of sweat ran down his forehead he succumb. "Alright, we will do it your way. You deal with the people in the morning and find out what you can. This way." Azerus spotted the nearest tavern and led them to it. As they walked towards it his eyes meticulously scanned the passing buildings, the towns silence was beginning make him feel nervous. "I think I saw some stables near the east entry, head on in and get a room, I will be back shortly." With that he hands her a small pouch of coins and climbs back onto his horse to trot away down the dark street.</s> <|message|>Moeasha Moeasha could understand now why so many of the guild's members were wary of Azerus, but she could also tell he was powerful and able to hold his own. Taking the coins, she made her way inside to procure a room. The innkeep was asleep on his counter, so Moeasha lightly poked him. The innkeep startled awake, shouting. Apologizing to him, Moeasha asked for two rooms and quickly was paying for it and being shooed away. Taking the keys, she waited by the door for Azerus to return so she could tell him his room number.</s> <|message|>Azerus A man soon approached Moeasha, but it wasn't Azerus. A large burly fisherman brandishing a heavy club like it infused him with authority staggered up to her and spoke with the clear heavy scent of whiskey on his breath. "What'cha think ya doing here lassie?" he aggressively questioned. "I think ya one of tha's wizards com to cause us trouble again!" He uses his size to lean over her as he intimidatingly stares her in the eyes.</s> <|message|>Moeasha Light Moeasha wrinkled her nose at the stench of alcohol, but smiled up at the man in a placating way. "Hello sir. I am just waiting for my....friend...to return. Then we will be sleeping and hopefully tomorrow we can rid your town of the dangerous monster!" Moeasha discreetly placed her hand over the top of her water skein, ready to pop it off if the man raised his club against her. But Moeasha was trusting, so she wasn't going to immediately act defensive.</s> <|message|>Azerus The man recoiled as he let out a deep bellowful chuckle. "Arghhh ha, you puny li'l girl can't get rid of our sea monster!" He chuckles some more before his face grows red and angry. " AND WE DONT WANT IT GONE ANYWAY!" He practically spits whiskey on her as he shouts. Calming himself he sways a little as he continues his speech. "Look, I don't know who keeps hiring you wizards but your worst then da monster. Dun worry bout waiting for ya friend, my buddies will look after him good, jus get you pretty little self out of mah town." He bats the club on his palm as he lets out a deep burp. "well sugar?"</s> <|message|>Moeasha Moeasha glares at the man, her usually calm blue eyes turning harsh. "What do you mean, you do not want rid of it?" Moeasha pops the cap of her pouch off, beginning to grab control of the water inside. "And your 'buddies' plan on doing what to my friend?" Moeasha lashes out, her water arching through the air, slicing a small cut into the man's hand. It isn't enough to seriously injure, but the shock of it caused his club to fall. Moeasha quickly kicked the club away, then formed her water into the shape of a dagger, pointing it at the man's nose.</s> <|message|>Azerus her sudden moves left him speechless and dumbfounded. Wide-eyed he stood in shock, gasping as he frantically tried to figure out what was going on. "Damn all you wizards!" He eventually managed to spit the words out as he fearfully backed away. "Wizards are why it's here and the on'y reason it keeps comin back! Ever since your kin showed up ere it's been giving us trouble... He spits on the floor and slowly backs away. "Just Don't go making it angry with any flashy light ok!" ..."please"</s> <|message|>Moeasha Light Moeasha made her water flow back inside her pouch, watching the man sadly. "I assure, we only wish to make it leave. Flashing lights? I will keep note. Now, where are your friends who you said will harm mine?" Moeasha moves forward, not wanting the man to leave if he has information she could use. She knows Azerus could keep his own, but the townsfolk here seem more afraid than dangerous. She doesn't want Azerus to make the situation worse!</s>

<|message|>Azerus It was right then that a sudden explosive crack of lighting burst a splintering hole in the wall behind the burly man. Azerus voice could be heard trailing on the wind traveling through the new window. He shouted threats and with each escalation of his voice, a wave of light longed the damaged makeshift window. Clearly he hadn't got the same memo, Or had he... The sailor had fallen to the floor, his face white with fear. "oh no, oh no, oh no!" he sobs as he scampers down the stairs. Next a bell echoes out loudly and the cobblestone paths are almost instantly filled with commotion as people almost magically appear and all flee in the same direction. Azerus distant threats fade amongst the noise. The bell continues to chime out, people continue to rush to safety, something stirs in the distant water.</s>

<|description|>Lady Lili Aria Adelin Age: 17 Kingdom and Position: Noble of Freyea Sexuality: Bisexual, prefers women Pro Separation Likes - Social gatherings - Tournaments and similar displays of bravery - Theatrical tragedy and opera - Epic literature Dislikes: - Cowards - Shy people - Being ordered around Personality Lili is a girl with two distinct personas: One that she shows to the kingdom at large and one she keeps between herself and her most trusted friends. In public, Lili is a flawlessly trained diplomat and social butterfly, mixing easily with people from all nations and walks of life. She uses her voice both to charm new acquaintances and to command the attention of entire rooms through the power of song. The only inconsistency in her "perfect" demeanor lies in her love of luring others into making conversational faux pas, or revealing their secrets. In private, however, Lili could easily be mistaken for a military recruit. She spends much of her free time studying military history and strategy, or practicing with longsword and bow. She resents being unable to hone her martial prowess more openly, but channels her frustration into training rather than challenging the status quo. History: Lili was born into a minor noble family, flush with gold but poor in influence. Both her father, Duke Giraud Adelin, and her mother, Duchess Jacqueline Adelin, were relentless in their pursuit of a better position within Freyea's nobility. To this end, they groomed Lili for court life from the moment of her birth, the day of which saw truly legendary festivities funded by the proud parents. While she was provided with the best upbringing money could buy, Lili was more interested in tales of knights and heroism than those of courtly romance. She made a habit of slipping away from her governess to play at combat with the servant children on an almost daily basis. Her parents discouraged such behavior with punishments of ever-increasing severity, but it did little to dissuade the strong-willed young lady. As soon as she turned 12, Lili's parents sent her to live in the royal palace as a handmaiden, where she mastered the arts of socialization. She never gave up her more martially inclined pursuits, however, often disguising herself as a boy to attend swordplay lessons and watching the castle's many knights at every opportunity. About a week after her 15th birthday, Lili's parents were both taken by fever, passing dukedom to her uncle Alphonse until Lili found a suitable husband. Extra: Theme Music</s> <|message|>Prince Liam Hanway It was hot in the little room that always held the smaller meetings. Liam wishes that they would have gone with the big meeting room even if it will only be the Kings, Queens, children, and trusted people of the kingdom. Only a few from each kingdom could come that weren't in the royal family. The big meeting room can at least hold a breeze. Liam wipes over his forehead and turns away from the glare his mother shoots him. They're all just starting to settle in and Izzy seems to be more restless then ever. "Isabella, please sit still," their mother hisses while the king clears his throat. "Thank you all for coming today, as we know this is very important. We have a lot of problems arising in our kingdom as I'm sure there are with yours. We believe that the marrying will help with some of the problems, but we do need to discuss plans of how to stop these people who are trying to take over. It's a while of boring talk before it seems to quiet down. "Sam, would you mind taking the kids out of the room. We have some more... pressing matters to discuss," the queen asks in her nicest voice. "Of course, miss," Sam moves from her spot against the wall and motions to Liam and Isabella. "Let's go out in to the courtyard, get some fresh air. And if all of the other royal families would like to come also that would be great. Liam knows they will be discussing wedding plans along with fighting, but it's obviously not something they want all of the younger crowd to hear. Liam gets up slowly and waits for Isabella, checking the rest of the crowd that is with them. They all seem... well, no, one seems very sick, but the rest seem normal enough. He slows down when they get to the courtyard and smiles tightly. "Are you alright?" he asks the boy who seems to not be well, he's just hoping he isn't misreading things and this guy is perfectly fine. "So what were they going to talk about that we couldn't know?" Isabella asks loudly and Sam rolls her eyes before she can stop herself. "I mean you're all old enough to get married so what was there that we couldn't know?"</s> <|message|>Aspen Cedar Lyons Haughty and prideful were very good words to describe the boy with the dark curls and the jagged jawline, he moved as if he owned everything in his path. He moved as if he could take what he didn't own and claim it before he could be challenged, he moved with grace and he moved with the eloquent precision of a true leader. He moved like a jaded king and he moved like he deserved more than just leadership, he moved like he was ready to prove that. He was beautiful in his pride, sharp brown eyes and a curve to his lips that wasn't quite friendly, he had a calculative quality that made him appear as frozen as ice during the entirety of the speech before he realized that they were being ushered out. It registered to him slowly and he didn't look like he much cared for the statement but he didn't open his mouth to question it as he strolled into the courtyard with Aspen by his side like a trusty guard dog. He didn't open his mouth when he saw the other prince stop to inquire about the sickly looking young man and he barely blinked when the sunlight outside registered with his brain. He did speak then, though it was a soft undertone to the knight standing at his side like a parental figure and his words were clear and precise. The kind of words that could cut through silence, the kind of voice that made people cringe to face it in a wrath. Though now it seemed somewhat calm, collected and very, very detached. It was almost frightening whenever he spoke and it nearly startled his companion but composure remained in Aspen's expression. "I should be allowed in there, shouldn't I?" he asked quietly, his voice sounded insistent as if he had an expected answer and Aspen knew the drill. Though just because he knew it, didn't mean he'd go through with it. "Why, of course, my lord. You're a darling at social gatherings." a quicksilver smile and dancing blue eyes. "There will be epics written to your kindness and stride to all who approach you, my dear Marion. How could anyone not love your company?" "You're being sarcastic and I despise it." Marion blinked and sighed, a brilliant smile overcoming his face and seeming to wash away the storm clouds gathering in his eyes. "But, I suppose I should lighten up, shouldn't I? I'm surrounded in nobility, even if I have your pathetic shadow over me until Mother or Father finds a better task for you and I sure hope that's soon. I could make a friend, I could discover a love of nature, the world is in my hands today, Aspen." "And what a lucky world it is, my lord." hummed the knight sarcastically. "Are you suggesting I leave you be to socialize? Because if you're suggesting I leave then I'd have to decline, watching you fail to make connections is my favorite side hobby." "I'm not going to fail, I'm going to charm them. I'm quite good at that." "Ah yes and I am the next heir to the throne, your entire life was a ruse, my lord."</s> <|message|>Crix Oxeum F. Atrox A few days ago, before coming to Freyea, Crix had already heard that among the discussions of war and alliances, matrimonial talks were going to be part of their visit. Oh, of course, the curious prince had already researched about who he was paired up with. Quite so fittingly, he was set to be wed off to a lass whose name was Princess Moran. She had enticing traits and an appearance that led men to think with their other hands but the prince predicted that beneath her smiles and rumours, she was an entirely different person. Everyone had a mask they wore, anyway; everyone had a mask to show others, a mask to show their family and a mask that they never want anyone to see. This third mask is the reflection of the truest identity of the person involved. However, his situation behind, Crix was more worried for his sister, Erin. They had never really talked much but just because he didn't socialize with his own kind doesn't mean that he doesn't care for them. On the contrary, Erin was probably the closest sibling he could ever hope to agree with. So, when the royal entourage was already stationed outside of the castle of Paplia, Crix took the opportunity to talk to his sister. As the lad hobbled on a walking cane, the youngest brother met up with his sister. Before speaking, however, Crix made sure that no one was watching or near. "So, you're being married off to this prince Marion. I've done my research on him and the results didn't come as good as I had expected. He's as proud as a llama spitting at a hunter." Crix began, his voice was intermittently cut by arid coughs. "What I mean to say is... if he ever puts a dent on your face or any part of your body for that matter, tell me. And, I'll castrate him brutally until he can't walk for a year." Once more, Crix began to cough voraciously, only abating by inhaling a large amount of air. "I know we don't talk much but... you're still my sister and I.. uh..." the lad hesitated, knowing that it was out of character for him to do so. "I care for you just the same." Crix smiled genuinely, a rare occurrence, before turning his back on her. "That'll be the last time you hear that from me, Erin. Don't get used to it." ---- He had expected the room to be a bit more... gracious. They were more packed than a can of sardines (speciality of the invention of Paplia, thank you) but, perhaps, there was a deeper meaning to this. However, as the grown-ups began discussing the pressing matters, it couldn't be helped but to usher the younger generation out. Crix was nonchalantly disappointed, though. He believed that he was more than mature let alone smart enough to contribute to the discussion, which made it a point to believe that he was ushered out so that the royal families would be spared from his incessant coughing. Still, as he escaped from the hall, his illness got the better of him, his lips opening in silent agony as his coughs were becoming more brutal as time passed by. Suddenly, a figure appeared in front of him, apparently asking the state of his health. "Ah, prince Liam. Worry not about me." Crix straightened himself on his cane. "I'm fine." Crix forced a smile before wiping his lips with a small cloth. Well, he couldn't escape now. "Your kingdom is wonderful but a bigger meeting room would have been splendid." the prince muttered amidst some small hacks and gurgles. His eyes darted over to the prince just a few feet away from them... it was prince Marion. Crix's eyes dilated in annoyance at the older prince's appearance; he practically oozed arrogance with the way he strode and walked. Heck, Crix didn't even need to do research if he had seen Marion at an earlier period of time. Due to this seething disappointment at the man who his sister was suppose to marry, Crix couldn't help but click his tongue. However, he wasn't here to fight or bicker with his counterparts. He needed to establish some sort of... alliance with them. His gaze turned over to prince Liam, his counterpart host, and smiled gently. "Our parents, huh? Marrying us off to the other princes and princesses without our approval. But, then again, they never needed our approval." Crix chuckled lightly, a slight cough escaping his lips. "Who did you get as your lucky bride?" the sickly prince turned to his host.</s> <|message|>Prince Nicholas Moran Nicholas had been sitting in between his sister and parents during the preceding of the meeting. If he was honest with himself, Nicholas really didn't want to be here. But because he was not one to neglect his responsibilities he came with no fuss. He had been aware of the growing tension and impending threat to his kingdom, and was glad that they were meeting here to discuss. Nicholas looked around the room and saw the other princes and princesses, he knew most of them by name but his sister had actually made more of an effort to be friends. He did not quite get how to handle his impending marriage; he had never met the girl before and did not know much about her, and the only thing his sister had said was that she was a good person, that helped him a lot. He walked outside close to his sister, not wanting to bump into any one. Once in the court yard he looked at her. "Do you see her? I'd like to know what she looks like." He looked around and saw some familiar faces, but didn't know who to talk to. He always thought that it was easier to deal with animals than other people. Animals never had any malicious intent, and if they did ant to kill you, an animal would let you know. While humans are a mess of emotion and underlying lies and truths, it is to much, he likes things plane and simple and on the table. Now he had to deal with politics and marriages, what fun.</s>

<|message|>Lady Lili Aria Adelin Lili watched from a balcony as everyone filed out into the courtyard. She'd planned on being fashionably late to the meeting, but it seemed that the royal children were relocating, and so her lateness now afforded her a chance to look over the familiar and not-so-familiar faces. There was Prince Liam, of course, the person she'd seen the most during her days at court. Next to him was... Crux? No, Crix. Prince of Paplia, if she remembered correctly. She'd never quite gotten to speak to him, despite having been to Paplia's capital thrice. Then there was... him. Nicholas Moran, her betrothed from this day on. He was the only one that Lili had never seen in person, only knowing his face from a portrait. She looked him over curiously, taking in his movements and expressions. Well... he's not bad to look at. I was worried the portrait might have been designed to flatter, but... No, the only difference was in his face. The Nicholas in the portrait looked much like every other royal who'd been sitting in one place for hours, but out here he seems far gentler, almost nervous. He's certainly looking around as if there were a wolf among the crowd. She shrugged, and headed for the stairs to join the group. No sense making them wait.</s>

<|description|>Antaeus Race: Earth Genasi Age: 16 Gender: Male Appearance: Theme: Go the Distance Level: 0 Proficiency: +1 Health: 4 Stats: Strength - 16 (+3) Dexterity - 14 (+2) Constitution - 17 (+3) Intelligence - 8 (-1) Wisdom - 10 (+0) Charisma - 8 (-1) Proficient Skills: Athletics (+4), Survival (+1) Proficient Tools: None Traits: Alignment - Neutral Good Size - Medium (6 feet tall/182.88 cm, 200 lbs/90.7 kg) Speed - 30 feet (6 squares) Languages - Common, Primordial, Dwarven, Undercommon Earth Walk - Racial Ability. Move across difficult terrain made of earth or stone without expending extra movement. Merge with Stone - Racial Ability. Acts as the Pass without Trace spell once per long rest with no required material components. Constitution is the ability for this spell. "Each creature you choose has a +10 to Stealth checks and can't be tracked except by magical means. This effect only applies if a creature is within 30 feet of you, both at the time of casting and for the duration. You can choose yourself as well. A creature that receives this bonus leaves behind no traces of its passage." Deep Miner - Background Ability. You are used to navigating the deep places of the earth. You never get lost in caves or mines if you have either seen an accurate map of them or have been through them before. Furthermore, you are able to scrounge fresh water and food for yourself and as many as five other people each day if you are in a mine or natural caves. Abilities: None Inventory: A shovel and a miner's pick, a block and tackle, a climber's kit, a set of common clothes, and a belt pouch containing 5 gp. Background: Genasi seem, at first glance, to be virtually normal humans save for their coloration and perhaps a few features more closely tying them to their element, such as literally flaming hair or gem encrusted skin. A genasi can be born when one or both of their mortal parents are exposed to surges of elemental energy from planar phenomena, but far more commonly they are the result of mixed heritage between some variety of genie and a mortal humanoid, usually regular humans. Some genasi are born of mortal-genie unions, some have two genasi as parents, and a rare few have a genie further up their family tree, manifesting traits that have lain dormant for generations. Perhaps on first impression, Antaeus could be seen as a normal, deeply tanned, tall and broad shouldered boy--but his skin has a slightly hard texture to the touch, as if his muscles exist in a constant state of tension or his bones are made from wrought iron, and that bronze tone to his skin remains no matter how long he spends in the mines and away from the sun. In direct light, one sometimes even catches the glint from his skin and hair as if it were well oiled, but he is perfectly dry. When he was born to Frontier Town settlers, Antaeus's parents were shocked at his appearance. For the first few years of his life, Antaeus's father treated the boy somewhat coldly--the family never went without, and his parents seemed to care for one another tremendously, but his father never could shake the suspicion that his mother had been unfaithful. If he ever pressed about it, she would only venture suspicions that there must have been a genie in their ancestry, or that his work in the Black Mines might have exposed him to some source of earthen magics. He couldn't stand it. That possibility he was raising another man--or possibly another being's--child. This wasn't helped by the fact that their second child, Antaeus's little sister, was completely human. It also did not help that Antaeus soon grew taller, and broader of shoulder, than his father. Here, what had been a seemingly masculine indifference--hugs and kisses were from mother, food and shelter and discipline were from father--now became evident as disdain. Strangely enough, his father even seemed to have forgiven his mother--if there ever was anything to forgive--but now projected what was left of those feelings onto Antaeus, as well as favoring the girl child. At first, Antaeus didn't resent his sister for this, and only slowly began to grow embittered towards his father...but, all children learn their behavior from their parents. When his sister began to look down her nose at him from atop his father's shoulders, he could no longer stand being in the same household. He had grown old enough to work in the mines like his father, but here once more his strange blood surpassed his progenitor's, so he soon began delving into the deeper caves and tunnels. Despite his difficulties with his family, Antaeus got along well with everyone else, and was generally known and well-liked as an energetic, friendly, and upstanding young man. He picked at rock and polished ore and pushed carts up winding ramps, whether night or day--whatever shift his father was on, he asked for the opposite. Whatever days his father was given off, he asked to work overtime. Only rarely did they see each other, and usually at meal times when it was easy to ignore the person at the opposite end of the table. His mother tried to smooth the issue, but at this point it had become a self-perpetuating cycle. Antaeus's avoidance was taken for disrespect, his work seen as an attempt to show his father up at the man's own career, his lack of confrontation as cowardice and aversion to authority. The more Antaeus tried to escape his father's eye, the angrier that glare became. And yet it was not so simple. More than once Antaeus wondered why the man didn't just leave, back then when he had been born. Why had he stayed? Why had he bothered to raise Antaeus and teach him--in whatever fashion one could say he had--and why had he gone soft on Antaeus's mother, when it would have been her fault had any infidelity truly taken place? And if his father had poisoned his sister against him, why were there still moments when she treated him kindly--why did she still run to his bed when she had nightmares, why did she still ask him to play with her and then become sad when he had to work? And his mother, she had never truly done anything wrong to him, but...why hadn't she stood up more? Why hadn't she defended him more staunchly? Did his family hate him? Were they simply fulfilling their duty towards him, rather than kicking him out? Maybe it was him. Maybe he needed to do something, change something, about himself. Maybe...maybe if he became someone, someone great, a real hero...</s> <|message|>Ethan Bradford Cypher Ethan abruptly sat on the dirt road in silence, sans the sounds of his heavy breathing. He dared not move an inch from his position, out of shock as well as the exhaustion he suddenly felt. Sweat poured down his face in streams instead of droplets, his throat had the rusty taste of blood, and his eyes were glazed. He clutched his left ear, hurt from the sudden screech of the now dead blood hawk, and checked if his eardrum had ruptured from the sudden assault of noise. "N-no blood...all good. Yimir's Fething Axe...that was too close. An inch more to the left and I'd be done in." As if to reassure himself he stops clutching his ear and checks his face and neck for any injuries. For what he knew, the adrenaline rush would have dulled his sense of pain and exhaustion. He lets out a relieved sigh as there were no traces of any injury before shaking his head side to side. "How in the nine hells did a simple pick up become a fight for my life...Maker above." Ethan had regained most of his composure when the red archer had approached his position. "Hey you alright? Bloodhawks, nasty little things. Not unusual for them to go after lone travelers, especially around this time. But you don't look like one of the villagers. In fact, you don't even look like you're from the town. Newcomer?" She asked, piercing the still bodies of the hawks. Probably to make sure the little bastards were really dead, he assumed. She was already tying the birds to her spear when Ethan snapped out of his stupor. Looks up to see his savior, a lady archer dressed in red. Ethan stands from his sitting position on the dirt road and does his best to wipe away the grime and sweat from his face. Feeling exhausted was no excuse to be rude to someone, what more his savior. He stands upright as best as he can and tips the slightly sweaty hat atop his crown to greet her. "Thank you miss archer for the rescue, I owe you my life. I'm unharmed, if not just tired from running...and you are correct. I just arrived to Frontier Town a number of hours ago. You are quite perceptive miss archer, furthermore very skilled with a bow." He compliments the young archer in red, noting that striking such small and fast targets like the blood hawks is quite the feat. "Ah...where are my manners. I am Ethan Bradford, formerly a wanderer and currently a courier for the local inn. Pleasure to meet you." No rolls done this turn. Traveler's Clothes x 1 Fancy Hat x 1 Pouch containing 5 gp x 1 Metal Flute x 1 Jeweled Ring (worth 10 gp) x 1 Walking Stick (Quarterstaff) x 1 Poorly wrought maps of homeland x 1 Corrected map x 1</s> <|message|>Darunia Genmaris Darunia A very dry smirk crossed the Drow's face as he could sense the two forms approaching. Of course taking the first step into his journey would not be as easy as... well, taking a step. With the sun beating down on his face, he clenched his teeth and held a hand over his eyes, squinting them to further reduce exposure. The sun always put him in a foul mood. What good was it for aside from growing crops? Civilization has created substitutes for its other purposes, so why have they not made it obsolete yet?! Darunia sighed, shaking his head. "Do you always ask redundant questions of those who come to your city?" He asked. "I am a traveler. I travel. What more is there to it that you wish to know?" Speaking in such a tone was, he knew, not very likely to push any sort of idea of friendliness to the group before him. The sun's overpowering glare made it quite hard for him to try and converse while making eye contact, and while he could put up his hood, he was sure that these two rapscallions were simply looking for a fight. The flap of a hood would be all it would take to send fists flying. At least, that's what most of his experiences taught him. Of course, he knew that they were really after why a Drow was lurking around here in the first place. Quite frankly, he was none too sure himself. Such an answer would not satisfy a guard, if experience had taught him. This was going to be his first chance to make an impression in the city, and, while he couldn't get a solid grasp on the precise ages of the guards, they appeared to be quite young. He considered the most hassle-free way to deal with this scenario... He wasn't too keen on spending his money so soon into his trip, but it seemed like it couldn't be helped. "Perhaps we can make an exchange," Darunia quickly proposed. Fishing out two gold coins and flashing them to the guards, he forced a smile. "I need to get someplace to stay for at least the next morning. Should one of you escort me to the nearest inn, I promise I will make it worth your time." He was not a charmer by any stretch of the word, but he was left with no choice. Begging and sniveling not to be assaulted by these young guards... A flicker of anger flared up in Darunia. He would have to let this pass. Just this once. Darunia pulls out two GP to both hopefully defuse the situation, and to gain some guidance as to where he would be able to stay. Making a Persuasion Check: 1d20+Charisma Mod(3) Result:4 (hoo boy)</s>

<|message|>Antaeus 𝕬 𝖓 𝖙 𝖆 𝖊 𝖚 𝖘 Salt Lake >> White Stag's Trail --- Antaeus's head snapped in the direction of the deer call. He immediately took in the disturbed underbrush, the white hair, and once more those high tree scrapes. But that call was some distance away. If he went slow to stay hidden, the White Stag would just get further and further away--and the more time there would be for some beast to happen upon him unawares. But if he just crashed on through the brush, not only might some predator hear him, but the White Stag too might detect his pursuer... No. It's already either chasing something or running from it--if anything, I might be able to catch it as it grows tired. With the trail so clear before him there was no need to worry about losing the tracks. Turning his javelin point-down in one hand--so that he wouldn't spear himself if he fell--the boy took a deep breath and set off at a sprint. Even as he pushed against the ground the earth supported him, and he still left no sign of his passage. Whether that would remain true in the forest, however, had yet to be seen. Going as fast as he was able, Antaeus pursued his quarry. Antaeus has the Earth Walk ability - Move across difficult terrain made of earth or stone without expending extra movement. Not sure if this applies. If Possible I'd like to have Antaeus move at the Fast rate of Travel or Dash or whatever. I think the travel pace has a -5 Perception Penalty, don't know if that counts passively? Antaeus performs an Athletics Check 1d20 + (4) Proficiency + STR Result: 7 1 Quest Book - 5 lb 1 Shovel - 5 lb 1 Miner's Pick - 5 lb 1 Block and Tackle Set - 5 lb --Pulleys --Cable --Hook 1 Climber's Kit - 12 lb --Pitons --Boot tips --Gloves --Harness 1 Set of Clothes, Common - 3 lb --Roughspun Tunic --Roughspun Pants --Ragged Boots 1 Belt Pouch - 0 GP 1 Hunting Trap - 12 lb 1 Backpack - 5 lb - Holds 30 lb 1 Waterskin - 5 lb (full) - holds 4 pints 1 Tinderbox - 1 lb 1 Hempen Rope - 10 lb - 50 ft 2 Javelins - 2 lb Each 6 Darts - .25 lb Each Total Encumberance: 71.5/240 lb (Light) +Bookie has agreed to write a letter to Captain Ork at the Garrison. I should kill an animal in the forest and take it to Captain Ork to prove I'm adventuring material. --The animal can be anything from the Forest. Bookie suggested a deer or a boar. +Barthen has requested me to hunt a White Stag in the Forest, and has given me a free hunting trap for this purpose. If I don't succeed I should probably bring the trap back. --I should try to find the Redchaser, she might be able to help me. +Barthen is paying 1 GP per pound of Medicinal Herbs from the forest.</s>

<|description|>Dr. Mathias Johnson Age: 52, but with the physical body equal to a 27 year old, thanks to Institute medical technology Gender: Male Appearance: Home: The Commonwealth, more specifically The Institute. He left after certain events ruined his reputation. His departure involved a lot of gunfire, screaming, and maybe a burning building or two. Skills: Medicine(He was the head of the Institute's medical facilities before his incident) Science(While not as well trained as his medical skills, he's still quite adept at using advanced and pre-war tech) Repair(He's handy to have around tools, and given the proper ones, can fix just about anything.) Survival(His medical knowledge can also come in handy when needing to find edible materials, or when making some. He's still primarily trained with medicines, however) Guns(While not the best sharpshooter, he knows his way around a firearm. Unlike most scientists, he never cared for using energy weapons) Background: Born to two scientists in The Institute, Mathias has always lived around advanced tech. Unlike most children there, however, he also enjoyed escaping out into the wider Commonwealth, visiting places such as Diamond City, and even once taking a trip to the Capital Wasteland. He loved learning about the wasteland and its inhabitants, and seeing the effects the radiation and other pollutants had on them, and all the other life. He learned to appreciate medicine and its uses, while also seeing how medical science can be used to cause pain and suffering. He would become a very established medical doctor of the Institute, developing things like cybernetic limbs, a cure for diseases like Cancer and Aids, and even a treatment to provide temporary immunity to even the most harmful of radiations with a single dose. However, he had a large skeleton hidden in his closet, so to speak. Word got out of secret experiments he performed on captured raiders in hidden complexes deep under the Institute, some even involving captured strains of the Forced Evolutionary Virus, obtained from the Capital Wasteland. This wreaked havoc with his reputation, leading to the Institute violently removing him from the Commonwealth. He began to travel south, first to the Capital Wasteland, and once his reputation reached him there, further south again. Eventually he arrived in the Carolinas, setting up a medical camp in the wastes with what tech he was able to scavenge from the Institute, and the wastes. Equipment: He wears various scraps of semi-protective clothing, such as his brown trench coat. He carries a .45 pistol on his side, a combat survival knife in his boot sheath, and a hunting rifle on his back. The rifle takes standard .308 rounds, but has also been jury-rigged to accept auto-inject stimpaks and Med-X as viable ammo, meant for firing into allies for a quick heal or assist. He also keeps a backpack full of pre-war and Institute-level chem and medicine-producing equipment, but nothing that would be unable to survive a rough journey, a large pouch full of stimpaks, Med-X, and other chems, a smaller pouch filled with around 1500-2000 caps, and another pouch filled with ammo for his two guns. Around his neck, generally hidden from view, is a special glass vial with a yellow-orange liquid inside, which when asked is said to hold "A last-resort experiment." Other: He has a pet dog named "Max", who got his name from one of Mathias' favorite pre-war movie series, where a man wanders a wasteland similar to the current one, only in the movies, the cars actually work. He also has a pre-war quarter he keeps on his person at all times, which he will absentmindedly twirl between his fingers at times.</s> <|message|>Secundus Albus Riding on through the heat of the afternoon, a quartet of haggard individuals passed through South of the Border's northmost gate, a Brahmin wagon covered with a thick cloth tarp rolled into the town's main bazaar. Waiting for the wagon was an empty spot amongst the many stalls-- a spot that always remained empty just for this wagon's triweekly visit. With heavily-practiced ease, the lead Brahmin maneuvered into the empty spot, and promptly sat down. It grunted satisfactorily as a rugged, bearded man emerged from the wagon's cloth exterior, and glanced around. The bearded man reached inside the wagon, and pulled out an old wooden sign, with "LERK JER KY 20 CAPS/ oZ" crudely painted on it. Looking quite satisfied with himself, the bearded man hammered the sign into the ground behind the wagon, and sat down on the wagon's edge. At long last, Hawkeye Joe's Famous Mirelurk Meatwagon had arrived! "Awright," said Hawkeye Joe, peering around the market for potential customers, "you boys g'wan an' find yerselves a way t' pass time. Ain't hard-- whole town's a tourist trap! Jus' tell me if yer gunna stay, I ain't tellin' yer momma you got lost in South!" From the wagon came three more strapping men and a hog. The first two were a pair of good old boys, named Muggsley and Puggface. Muggsley was the altogether more intelligent of the two, and enjoyed farming and hunting Mirelurks. Puggface was the altogether more attractive of the two, and enjoyed hunting Mirelurks and farming. Following them soon after was Albus Secundus, a friendly enough fellow from out West, who enjoyed fixing clothes and hunting Mirelurks. Following him was his pet "wild" sow, Heather. Heather enjoyed eating corn, scrap cloth, and Mirelurk meat. The four of them, together with the bearded fellow out back, formed Hawkeye Joe's Famous Mirelurk Meat Company. Curiously enough, not one of them was named Hawkeye Joe. While Muggsley and Puggface ambled over to the Radiation Roost, a notorious bar for tourists who didn't know the first thing about a decent meal and a strong drink, Albus and Heather stalked further into the sea of market stalls. Albus knew where he was going, and snuck through several alleys to get there. In the welcoming shade of an alley behind Terry's Gunne Shop, Albus patiently knocked upon a cleverly-hidden sheetmetal door. At the sound of his knocking, a grisly-looking doorman peered through at Albus with an appraising glare. Shortly after, that same doorman peeled the door away, and nodded grimly as Albus passed through. A dark, armored man on a stage towards the back of the room, face on one side by a crowd of onlookers, nodded as Albus came in through the doorway. When Albus found a place amongst the crowd, the man spoke up. "I'm glad you all have come here today. As you know, there has been some rumors amongst the wastes of a number of armed and heavily-armored individuals roaming around, killing people. Even stranger, it appears that there is a man--a Vault Dweller--killing some but actively assisting others in their actions. Unless anyone has any issues they'd like to bring up before we start... let the South of the Border Political Forum begin!"</s> <|message|>Samuel Carter, Atomic Knight of Clan Cluecloch "Alright, I'm starting the generator. Stay away from the outlets for a second, merchant, this is going to get loud." Samuel had promised to fix the shop's backup generator for one simple reason: He had an idea for a new weapon and needed fission batteries. The thing is, the shopkeeper's safe was electronically locked, and something was up with the generator he couldn't quite understand. Well, he must have been blind, because the inside had been filthy- like someone had been using it to store food that went moldy since before the War. With all the dirt and rust inside, it was a miracle it hadn't exploded. It had taken several boxes of Abraxo and a toilet brush to do so, but the innards were sparkling as best they could after this long. Reconnecting the wires and returning the switches to their operational state, he lowered his goggles and shut up the generator. With a soft whirr, it came to life, and the lights of the store flickered on. Business concluded, he got the fission batteries and a few parts for his creation- a large metal tube, a motor and belt from a vacuum cleaner, the spherical body of an eyebot, a few yards of copper wire, an aluminum baseball bat, and a throwing spear. "Alright... this should just about cover it." He made his way to the crafting bench where his noble steed Lambray stood guard. One of the finest horses the Knights had bought from the Carolinas, the horse was worthy of his name. He began the process of cobbling the items together.</s> <|message|>Agent Zhang Sitrung of the People's Republic of Hongmin Zhang sat in the armored cart as Guanyin the Brahman pulled down the dirt road. It was a fairly simple construct, two sets of old world wheels taken from a truck, connected with two axels held to the underside of a deep wooden cart with a canopy over it, surrounded with iron plates by some iron fittings and a harness Brahman to pull it. "In time of difficulties, we must not lose sight of our achievements." Zhang quoted from the Glorious Chairman Mao as he fanned himself with his map. Chairman Shen had decided that Zhang would be the chosen one of all the people of the People's Republic of Hongmin to spread the glorious revolution for the good of the people. He reached for his copy of the Little Red Book and resume quoting of the hero of the common people, "Once all struggle is grasped, miracles are possible." As the cart rounded a turn, he leaned back and picked up his gun, an unique version of the venerable Chinese Assault Rifle, the Red Orchestra Concerto. He busied himself by inspecting it as someone pulled up besides him. "'ello son, were ye headin'?" the traveller looked a sif he's been down some rough roads. Not exactly young by any stretch of the imagination. His face was wrinkler than that of Old Fueng and his whiskers were in dire need of a trim. "Hello comrade." Zhang saluted the man as he passed, "I am on my way south to spread the teachings of the revolution and to assist the common people. How are you doing today comrade?" "Just fine if I do say so myself. And what "revolution" are ye tryin' to spread?" the old man took out a bottle of water, revealing a mouth of dirty yellow teeth for a second. "The revolution of the people!" Zhang proclaimed, "The Glorious Communist Revolution that will liberate the proletariat masses!" The man tilted his head and looked at him funny, "Pole lead what?" "Proletariats! The common people, the masses, those workers oppressed by capitalism in this wasteland caused by the endless greed of pre-war capitalist industrialists who look after their own wealth at the expense of the people!" Zhang spent the next hour telling the teachings of Chairman Mao and the glory of the revolution to the old man, listening with a mix of interest and confusion over some of the words Zhang used. He thought "bourgeoisie" was a type of weapon. Their conversation/learning session went on until they arrived in a fork in the road which the old man waved good bye and headed off with a Communist propoganda poster that Zhang had given him from the statch. Zhang himself continued until he reached a town called "South of the Border". It seemed like a good a place to stop as any. Throwing bits of food from his bag to stragners and beggers, he smiled as he saw their faces light up, although his glared at some of the shiftier merchants so much to the point he nearly ran someone over. "Sorry comrade!" Zhang stopped his cart and jumped off and reached a hand to help the person he had knocked down, "Do you need any help?"</s>

<|message|>Dr. Mathias Johnson Dr. Mathias Johnson had been absentmindedly wandering the town called South of the Border with his dog Max, looking for a place to set up his medical station. He noted that far more than a few people were in need of help only he could offer, so he felt this was as good a town as any to get started. He just hoped he'd finally been able to out-run his reputation, seeing as how the last time it caught up with him, three people were shot, and a small shack exploded, he was due for a good day in a town. Suddenly, a large Brahman-drawn cart nearly ran him over, knocking him to the ground with a small thud. Max rushed over to make sure he was okay, and after reassuring the dog he was fine, he looked up to see a man of presumed Chinese descent offering to help him up, saying "Sorry comrade! Do you need any help?". Mathias took the man's hand and hoisted himself up, then brushed the dust off himself, saying "Why, thank you my friend. I appreciate the help." He looked over the man's cart briefly, noting the apparent Communist propaganda stowed aboard it. "Well, based on the contents of your cart, you seem to be out to help more than just me. I take it you were raised in a hold-over communist society lasting from before the Pre-war era?" Mathias reached a hand down to pet Max as he spoke, not taking his eyes off the man in front of him in order to show vivid attention and interest.</s>

<|description|>PFC Michael Roper --- Origin: Half-Life 1 --- Equipment: * Main Weapon: Spas-12 Shotgun | 36 Shells * Secondary Weapon: N/A * Inventory: + 30 ft Rope x 1 + Hand Grenades x 2 + Combat Knife x 1 + Tactical Radio (Short Range) x 1 Powers and Skills:* Ranged weapons training. * Basic CQC training. * Basic survival training. * Basic first aid training. Back Story/Bio: PFC Michael Roper is a soldier in the United States Marine Corps' Hazardous Environment Combat Unit (H.E.C.U). He was one of the first soldiers to be deployed at the Black Mesa Incident, and soon confronted the horrifying aliens that had started to pop up all over the facility. During an intense fire fight, he came face to face with a lanky creature that he hadn't seen before. As he raised his weapon, the creature looked at him and uttered something unintelligible - and then everything went white. And now he's here, in a land where darkness reigns eternal, and where alien invasions are the least of his problems. Starting Location: Orik Farmstead Other Info:</s> <|message|>PFC Michael Roper Character: PFC Michael Roper Location: Orik Farmstead With: No one. --- "This must be some kind of training op," Michael muttered to himself. "Black Mesa... was it just some elaborate test ground of some new weapon?" It was no secret to the boys of the Hazardous Environment Combat Unit that the U.S Government was overseeing some pretty shady projects. In fact, that was the main reason that the HECU existed in the first place. He'd only been in the unit for eighteen months, but in that time he'd seen some pretty trippy sights - though the aliens (imagined?) at Black Mesa certainly proved to be the crescendo of oddities that the Government had thrown his way. Something latched around his ankle, like an iron clamp, and squeezed hard until it hurt. Michael jumped, dropping the touch screen tablet, and looked down just in time to see one of the corpses at his feet close its jaws around his boot. "Gah! What the fuck!?" He screamed, his voice sounding like the guttural cry of a robot gorilla thanks to the voice changer. He tried to kick his foot free of the corpse, but found it impossible. Bringing the shotgun up in a panic, he pointed it at the thing's head and pulled the trigger. The corpse's head disappeared behind the bright muzzle flash, sending an uncountable amount of skull and gloopy brain fragments skittering in all directions. Michael backed away, the corpse's teeth and parts of it mouth still fixed to the end of his boot. "What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?" The second corpse was still inanimate, though it had slumped forwards - obviously as the other one had moved to attack Michael. None of this made sense, but then, nothing in the last twenty four hours of his life made much sense. Was he in some kind of high tech military training facility? Did they dope him with acid? They'd done that before. He tried to recall every moment of his life before he was sent to Black Mesa, looking for a break in its continuity - a moment that would provide a clue as to where he was. And then the door to the living room swung open, crashing against the wall. The rotted frame gave way, and the whole lot tumbled to the floor. Two men stumbled inwards, their clothes torn and tattered, their flesh dry and cracked. White eyes settled on Michael, and they froze as if surprised. Michael raised his shotgun at them. "Stay back! Stay the fuck back!"</s> <|message|>Section Commander Arth Bek Character: Arth Bek Location: Fort Buckmere With: Nobody --- The Boros soldier gazed over the landscape. This didn't look like Ravnica at all. At first Arth had thought he may have been at the top of some tower where nature was allowed to get out of hand, but from his vantage point Arth saw no end to the trees, no other towers, nothing that would indicate he was in a city. Of course, being from a plane of existence that is one massive city and nothing else this confused the soldier greatly. "What in the name of the angels is this?" He muttered as his eyes suddenly locked onto movement. Three large creatures, Arth couldn't see exactly what they were from the tower, were running on all fours towards the fort, and towards Arth. As they came closer he could see features that would mark them as wolves, but clearly larger. One of the beasts ran through the gate and made it's way to the entrance to the tower itself, however Arth was more concerned about the other two, who flung themselves into the tower and started climbing. Rather then attempt to question the savages Arth did the most reasonable thing he could. With a great deal of strength he hefted up the iron brazer and dumped it over the side. A sound of yelps of pain reached Arth's ears as he drew his blade and prepared himself for the third one, who would be coming up from the stairs any moment. Right on cue the third wolf creature sprang up, and Bek without thought brought his blade down upon the beast. The sword cut into the wolf's shoulder, but then got stuck. The creature merely snarled at Arth, who got a good look at the monstrous wolf. It stood on two legs, and was larger then most men, Arth included. The wolf threw one claw out to rake the soldier, and though Arth's armor held up he was still thrown across the tower, and now was separated from his blade, which was still lodged in the monster. Picking himself up Arth clenched his fist as the wolf slowly walked over, snarling with an inhuman glee. That glee left the creature in an instant when Arth threw himself at the beast and punched it squarely in the jaw. A snap of bone was quite evident, and the mark of the Boros Legion was now firmly indented into the beast's flesh. The wolf staggering Arth tackled the creature, pushing it against the crumbling stone. Then a crack was heard, as the stone the beast was being pushed against gave out and the monster fell from the tower to the fort grounds below. Arth looked down at the creature, it didn't look to be moving, though Arth would have to go down and retrieve his sword. Before he had a moment to think anything else however he heard a deep growling coming from behind. Turning Arth could see one of the other two beasts clawing up over the battlements, burnt and tinged fur creating a foul stench. Arth was about to fling himself into the beast before seeing another clawed hand come over the battlements, the other wolf was climbing up as well. While the soldier of Boros was indeed skilled, he did not like the chances of him taking on two foes of such strength at once, so instead Arth fled down the stairs. However before he could go far the rotted wood under him gave out, and the armored warrior fell, crashing through to the floor below, though luckily the wood there was not so quick to give, otherwise the soldier might have kept falling till he hit the ground floor and would have surely been dead or too weak to fight the beasts even now descending the tower. Picking himself up Arth stumbled out of the nearest door to find himself once more on the walls. However he was not allowed even a moment of rest as he caught sight of one of the wolfs running across the grounds below towards him, and Arth could hear the second wolf behind him. Claws with rake through the air, however Arth had already began running, adrenaline pushing him across the walls as he neared the main keep, luckily attached to the walls themselves, a sturdy looking iron door open and waiting. Both the wolves were behind Arth, and they were naturally faster, catching up to the knight. With one final frantic leap the Boros soldier flung himself into the building, before turning and slamming the iron door shut and throwing down the wooden bar than acted as a latch. With a deep sigh the man turned his back to the door, leaned against it, and slowly calmed his breath. The beasts would find some other way in Arth knew, and he would need to find a new weapon. But first he would need his energy.</s> <|message|>Danielle Harriet Mason Character: Danielle Mason Location: the Church of the Creator With: ..... "There's....t-there's something here..." --- That's it! She wasn't staying here any longer to find out! Whatever this...thing...was, she needed to get away from it and quick! This feeling overwhelming her, like sharp claws raking down her back, leaving her in a cold, shivering sweat, how uncomfortable and sickening it felt. Without a moment's notice, Danielle just turned on her heels and raced for the door. She tried to open, but...no.... No! It couldn't be! The door...it was locked...for good. Her hand, in the darkness she felt it grace metallic, rusty chains, something sticky and gross smelling coating them. Was it blood? It felt like it, but as she drew her hand back, she noticed the black, slimy substance. Then...it began to burn her hand like it was acid or some other corrosive substance. "Agh!" She yelped at the searing pain, quickly brushing off this bizarre, burning liquid off onto her jacket, finally resorting to banging her fists on the door frantically and screaming for dear life, "Help! Someone! Anyone, get me out of here! Please help me!" It was getting closer....she could feel it, the hunger it had for her, not for her flesh...but her very soul. "Please! Someone fucking help me!!" But no voice replied from the other side, no force tried to jar the door open to free her from what would soon become her macabre and desolate tomb, her sepulcher of shadows. Death...it was all around her, the putrid scent of rotting flesh and graveyard soil penetrating her nostrils and forcing her to hold her breath. It was happening again. No...not now! Suddenly, the siren started blaring in her ears, that wretched, horrific sound bringing her back to those horrible memories, her mother butchered and brutalized, the walls of burned, bleeding flesh and sinew...and...that creature. And just like before...now the church was shifting into nightmares. The chipped and cracked paint upon the walls peeled away like dead leaves in the bitter cold of autumn, revealing underneath rusted and blood spattered metal. The skies above, their demure shades of depressing grays instantly perverted into hellish reds and oranges, as if heaven was blazing with demonic fire, but that's not all she saw as her terrified eyes looked towards the ceiling. Bodies...hundreds of rotting corpses hanging by their necks from metal hooks, some in such grisly states of decay with bits of flesh dripping off their bones. The church...it was more of a cannibalistic butcher shop, dead bodies and instruments of horrific torture and mutilation everywhere....and it was about to get worse... "T-this isn't real! No! It's not REAL!" Danielle panicked shutting her eyes, falling to her knees trembling. Her nightmares, reality before her very eyes. Then...it revealed itself. The skeletal being upon the cross, its hands and feet ripped away from the nails as it lurched and writhed with skin and muscle tissue growing back over its dry bones, an ear piercing screech of utter agony belting from its mouth full of sharp teeth, eyes, red and menacing, glowing in the deep shadows like the impending fires of Hell. Its twisted wings flourished, producing an icy gust of air that smelled of rigor mortis. Danielle...though she could not bring herself to, she looked upon the creature, it shambling towards her while screaming and flapping its ghastly wings. Then...it attacked!</s>

<|message|>PFC Michael Roper Character: PFC Michael Roper Location: Orik Farmstead With: No one. --- "We hunger for you!" the two men screamed in unison, their voices amplified by an unseen malevolence. They rushed forwards, arms open wide in an offering embrace. Michael had only half a second to react, and he pulled the trigger. A large hole appeared in one of the men, the size of a basket ball, and he was flung against the nearest wall like a rag-doll. The second man came within arms reach of Michael, before the soldier was able to bring his weapon around and squeeze off another thunderous shell. His attacker disappeared from the chest upwards; brittle flakes of dried flesh and bone rained over the room like some kind of doomsday confetti. Before Michael could even take stock of his situation, the first man - the one with the hole in his torso - was back on his feet. He snarled as a dry and swollen tongue licked at cracked, putrid lips. Were it not for his gas mask, the unfiltered smell of decay may have been enough to knock Michael on his ass. "What the fuck are you?" demanded Michael, thrusting forwards with the shotgun in a futile attempt to ward his enemy off. "Is this a training op? VR? DT-19? Please, I can't take any more of this bull shit!" The man smiled broadly, yellow and black teeth poking out from behind his swollen tongue. "We are for you. We are the hunger." The words should have been muffled, but they came through as clear as day. Michael didn't understand the cryptic response; didn't understand how a man - apparently in the late stages of decay - could stand when half a foot of his spine was missing. He pulled the trigger, and his spas-12 combat shotgun reduced the man to a bloodless stump above the waist. There was little time for further thought, as a window to the soldier's right exploded into fragments of wood and glass. A woman crawled through, her dress torn and shredded; she looked up at Michael with the same nightmarish features of the men. "Fuck this, fuck this," Michael decried, half sobbing. He turned his back on the woman, and sprinted out of the door; the darkness of the farmyard embraced him like an old friend.</s>

<|description|>Pax Triston Nickames Bookworm, Bastard, Wimp, etc. No friendly nicknames that's for sure. Age 17 Gender Pax is biologically male. They don't feel male but they don't feel female either. They prefear gender neutral pronouns but will answer to he/him. They also had grown use to male culture roles. How did they get onto the Officer Programme? Pax got in via their noble father making a sizable donation to the academy just to get rid of his illegitimate child Prefered Weapon As the child of a noble Pax was trained in all manner of weapons from a young age. They do not have a preference as they are just about as equally bad at all of them. They can hold their own with a sword as well as a spear, but still tend to lose. It's a good thing they have never had to actually fight for their life. Long range weapons shouldn't even be mentioned. Their aim is dismal. Pax is surprisingly good at hand to hand combat and learned how to fight dirty. They don't advertise that fact. Appearance Details Pax is tall (5"11') and slender (more like gangly) with hair so blond it is almost white and eyes a grey color light enough that people mistake them for having no color. Given the fact that they have pale skin Pax seems almost completely colorless. They tend to dress in clothes that completely hide their slight frame. They don't sleep enough and is plainly evident by the bags under their eyes. Their hands always have some sort of ink stains on their hands. Their hair is in a constant state of disarray and the length depends on how recently their mother had forced them to get a haircut. It ranges from chin length to shoulder length. They have been described as "stereotypically scholarly." They have no tattoos, but their right earlobe is pierced with a small hanging grey pearl with silver accents. This marks them as a member of the Noble Family of Coastal Cliffs of the Kingdom of Rockveil. They have always been interested in makeup but only dares to apply a thin line of kohl eyeliner on their waterline when they dare to wear it. Personality Traits Pax is quiet and non-confrontational. They tend to disappear into the background as they are overshadowed by their more vibrant siblings. They are easily bullied and avoid social interactions as a result. They do their best to appear small then they are by hunching their shoulders in order to disappear into their clothes. They are often passed over by people and that's the way they prefer it. They rarely show any emotion outside of near silence. The only time this is different is when they are in their study or in the library. Pax tends become loud and passionate when talking about their passion for history and languages. When they have found something new to study, they pour themselves into the work and studies; so much so that they tend to forget to eat and sleep. They are the black sheep of their social butterfly family for more than one reason. Biography Pax is the third Child of Lord Markus Triston of the Coastal Cliffs' four children. Pax is also the second male child and the only child not born to Anna, the Lady of Coastal Cliffs. The scandal shook the both the royal court and the estate of Coastal Cliffs. By order of King Peter of the kingdom Rockveil, Markus took the child into his household. To her credit Lady Anna did her best to raise the child as the noble their heritage dictated, they were. However, Pax was living proof of her husband's infidelity. She formed no emotional connection to the child, and in order to regain his wife's affection Lord Markus did not either. Pax was smaller than his older brother, Erick, and that made them an easy target for bullying. It did not help that Pax showed no interesting in swordsmanship, horse riding, hunting, or other traditionally athletic activities connected to males. They showed a similar disinterest to traditional female activities. Pax only ever cared about their studies. Given the fact that the noble of Coastal Cliffs consisted mainly of people interested in the welfare of the estate and the intricates of court Pax is very much an oddity; not only in his family but the entirety of Coastal Cliffs, and Rockveil. Finally, in a desperate attempt to do something with his illegitimate child, Lord Markus sent Pax to Estermere Academy. King Peter has his own reasons for approving this. Misc. Their color code is #6a6a7c Pax has the ability to See things they shouldn't be able to know. Most of the times it is something about the present such as the weather half a continent away or some bit of knowledge about a person that person wishes to keep hidden. Occasionally they see truths about the past such as what has happened in a room they just entered a hundred years ago or who murdered someone. So rare it has only happened once or twice they see the future. It was how they were in the right place to warn of the pirates attack that one summer and the barn fire five winters later. They have no control over this and desperately tries to keep it a secret thought they have a few reasons to think that their mother had a similar gift and that King Peter knows. Coastal Cliffs is the land on the southeastern coast of the kingdom of Rockveil. Its economy is mostly based on fishing and sea-based merchants. They have the traditional charge of keeping Rockveil safe form pirates. It is not the easiest place to land and it is mostly sheer cliffs. Triston Keep is at the center of Marvel, the port city in the one natural harbor that was transformed into a bustling center of trade.</s> <|message|>Avery Harper Avery Harper, wizardly urchin, spent most of her trip to the illustrious Estermere Academy grinning like an idiot. She'd been on it once before, of course, sent up into the mountains on a wagon to try her hand at Estermere's admissions test. But this was a trip that took weeks, with a whole lot of the wider world to behold, so there was still plenty of gawking to do along the way at plants and animals and people she hadn't noticed on the first round-trip. Besides, during that first journey she'd been too worried about the upcoming examination to pay much attention -- and now there were all sorts of new and exciting things to worry about. Anxieties aside, though: wow! Avery could still barely believe the whirlwind of events that had led her onto this path. She had wondered more than once if it was an especially elaborate hallucination, but no, this was the reality of her situation. Avery Harper: tactician. Avery Harper: leader of men. Avery Harper: who used to swipe copper pieces from drunks to buy heels of stale bread. That was magic for you. At times she wondered who she was meant to be becoming an officer for in the first place: certainly not the good city of Rhyl, the goodwill of whose lazy patrol guards she'd worn out long ago. In addition to paying for her carriage, to prepare her for the trip, Avery had been saddled by the mages' guild with probably more books than she could carry -- histories, biographies, tomes of dull literature that seemed a hundred years old but were probably only ninety. She found buried among them one short volume of impressively salacious romance and, of course, her spellbook. It was a comforting presence, although she'd long since figured out most of the nuances of the handful of tricks contained within. If this academy was all it was said to be, there would probably be spells there that'd make hers seem like child's play. Avery wasn't sure whether or not she liked that fact. Either way, all thought of reading went out the window when her carriage reached the mountains. On the first trip to Estermere, Avery had been utterly dumbstruck by them, chattering in disbelief to the less-than-interested wagon driver about the sheer scale of those towering summits. This time she was better-prepared, but still spent most of that leg of the journey transfixed by the sweeping vistas and distant snowcapped peaks. They had a way of making all her fears -- woe is me, what if the rich snobs don't like me? -- seem insignificant in a very comforting way. Estermere Academy, on the other hand, had a way of making Avery feel insignificant in a way far from comforting. It was undeniably beautiful, nestled there in the mountains, but the fortress's very walls seemed to judge her as her carriage passed through their gate. It was as if she was walking right onto some emperor's dais as he gave a speech. You don't belong here! Well, she'd prove those old stones wrong. Somehow. And not a moment too soon, because now she found herself disembarking, fishing in her new coin purse for what seemed like a small fortune but Avery had been informed was standard carriage fare for a trip of this distance. To that she added another silver piece, and in exchange managed to get the driver to agree to unload her belongings and hand them off to the local guards. Then it was off to the great, lavish hall this place considered a dining room, and from there a new and bizarre life. Avery murmured a brief prayer of thanks to whatever bemused gods might be listening as she managed to find the hall without any difficulties, then went hunting for a place to sit among the more wide-eyed of what seemed to be her fellow students.</s> <|message|>Augustus Kampf "I was at the top of my class – naturally," the general's voice brimmed with pride inside the carriage as he recounted the years spent within the walls of the fortress. It was a story that he had told his son on several occasions. Actually, on more occasions during their journey to Estermere than the years before that. But Augustus had to pretend he was as interested as the first few times his father brought up the topic. General Marcellus Kampf didn't need to come with his son on the first day to Estermere. Naturally, he had duties as a lord and as one of the king's general, but he told a rather deflated Augustus that it was an event that the general would not miss for the world. Then Marcellus started telling the unforgettable story of his first day at the academy. Again. Surprisingly, the story started with a carriage ride and Marcellus' father, Augustus' grandfather, giving the young Marcellus pointers on how to excel. Apparently, his family did not tolerate mediocrity. A Kampf must always hold a position of power. There's that. Which was why a small smile tugged at the corners of Augustus' lips when one of the guards at the gate stepped up and told the general that only students were allowed entry. "He's an alumnus, can we not make an exception?" Gus asked, if only for appearance sake. As if he was not too happy to finally experience a taste of freedom in some piece of land which his father's influence could not reach. Marcellus, whose expression, clothing, and poise reeks of nobility stood looking down his nose at the lowly guard. Gus knew that look. It was as a warning, a few moments of calm before the storm. His father was a general. Of course, Lord Kampf was an expert in barking orders and looking down at mere footmen. Gus had to step in. "He's just doing his job. It's alright, I can manage from here." He grabbed a suitcase from his father only to set it on the ground beside himself. The general started to argue, no longer used to being denied, but Augustus reasoned that he would be late if they pushed the argument. A few minutes later, Augustus Kampf was walking the paved walkway of the fortress. Hands in his jeans' pockets and a stupid grin pasted on his face. At last, a chance to live outside his father's shadow. "Excuse me, is it your first day?" Somebody. A girl, his senior, approached. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. He looked to his left then right, then those amber eyes returned to a silent question to the stranger. "Yes, I am talking to you," she giggled, perhaps because of the look of utter confusion on his face. He had barely nodded when she politely pointed the other direction. "That way to the dining hall. Good luck." She waved, smiled, and ran after her group without saying her name or asking for his. He didn't even get to say thank you. But whatever. Gus traced his steps until he was at the top of a grand staircase, walked further following the same direction, following a light stream of individuals, until he found the hall. Rows of dining tables were occupied by people around the same age as he was. He casually took the closest empty seat he could find and relaxed. It was going to be a great year.</s>

<|message|>Pax Triston Pax Triston was not eager to be attending Estermere Academy. It was a military school, and they had no desire to be part of any military. That did not change the fact that they were currently on their way to the academy. They didn't have much of a choice. Their father, Lord Markus Triston of Coastal Cliffs, wanted to send Pax away. Pax couldn't really fault the man for that decision. There was a constant tension in the air while Pax was residing at Triston Keep. Pax gave their head a shake. There was no reason to dwell on the past. They had to keep heading up the mountain. Pax looked up from the book that they had been studying about older languages from across the world to look out the window as the carriage maneuvered pass another turn in the road. They could finally see the Academy. It certainly looked impressive. Pax knew that it was still a fair distance away. It would only grow more impressive as they got closer. Pax turned back towards their book. They had basically stolen the book from Triston Keep. Thankfully, along with the other books on almost forgotten languages, it wouldn't be missed. If they were it would a simple matter to return them. The carriage eventually stopped as a voice called out, "We have arrived Mr. Triston." Pax placed their book back in their personal satchel as they exited the carriage, "Thank you Gabriel." They faintly smiled up at the coachman, "Please be careful on your way home." Gabriel nodded in respect, "I'll be on my way as soon as I'm soon sure your things have been put away properly Mr. Triston." Pax turned to get a better look at Estermere Academy, "Thank you Gabriel." With as close to goodbyes as Pax was going to get with as close to a friend as they had been done they headed into the building. It was easy enough to ask a few of the guards where new students in the officer program were supposed to go. With that information gathered. The new student headed towards the dining hall. There were already students gathering. Absently Pax wonder what the time was. They knew that there was a time every new student was supposed to be here by. They just didn't know when that time was. They didn't think that it was any time soon. There weren't enough students here yet. Pax scanned the room to find a rather empty place in which to sit. Once a suitable spot was located, they made their way there. As they walked, they passed a few people taking to each other as well as others looking to avoid social interactions. There were people from all over the world. Pax was astounded by the sheer number of different type of people. Maybe being here wouldn't be bad. It would certainly be a learning experience. Pax arrived at the place they had pick and sat down with a surprising amount of grace. They pulled out their book to return to their studies. Pax wondered if there were language classes here. That would be another reason this ordeal could be bearable. The truth was, even though Pax knew they didn't really want to be here, this wasn't that bad a place to be. It certainly wasn't ideal, but it did get them away from Coastal Cliffs and it would certainly teach them things they couldn't learn in Rockveil. They might not want to be a part of any military in the future, but it would give them a chance to make future they didn't think they could have if they hadn't been sent here. Pax supposed they could be tentatively optimistic.</s>

<|description|>Emilie Kraus Age: 16 Gender: Female Height: 5"1 Hair Color: Brown Eye Color: Hazel Personality: Naive Airhead: Emilie is pretty gullible and falls for every trick in the book. Some could say she was just too trusting of other people. She is also slow on understanding other people's jokes and laughs minutes later after everyone else. Her head is often stuck in the clouds thus making her even more susceptible to pranks and other tomfoolery. Optimistic: She always sees the good in a situation or people. She is a generally cheerful person even if there isn't a real reason to be. It might just be because she is too clueless to understand fully the seriousness of things, but it's not always a bad thing to have a person who is always smiling like an idiot. Animal-Loving: If she sees any kind of animal, regardless of whether it is a puppy to a wild boar, she will want to pet it and become its friend. She loves animals and the feelings for the most part are mutual. While she doesn't hate people who dislike animals, she will spend a lot, a lot of time trying to change their mind by showing how cute they are and such. Strengths and Skills: Nimble fingers: Emilie has dexterous hands though she doesn't really know how to apply them yet. She supposes she can type quickly and thread needles but there should be something more that she can do with it than that. Maybe she could be a pickpocket and do magic tricks too. Tireless: She has a lot of energy. She is usually very hyper and has the energy level to keep up with it. She is all over the place, jumping off walls and it never seems like she will ever get tired. Creativity (?): Emilie can be creative and has lots of interesting ideas though it may not always be helpful or plausible in the situation. But maybe, every once in a while she will present a good idea that people can actually use. Flaws and Weaknesses: Easily Distracted: Emilie zones out a lot and because of this, she is not the best listener and often fails to follow instructions. She also loses focus on the things at task, and instead manages to find something else to entertain her like a squirrel or a shiny coin. Small body: Emilie is barely over 5" and her body has a small frame. She does not have a lot of muscles and is rather weak. If you were to get punched by her, it would probably feel like you were getting hit by a pillow that was thrown by a five year old. She is also too short to reach things on high shelves which frustrates her at times. Bad Aim: It is a bad idea to give her a gun or anything that requires precise aim. For example, when she is playing darts, one should stand about fifteen feet away from her and the intended target. Actually, no where is safe, somehow she will miss so badly that it will hit you. Memories: -Identity- ??? - Events - ??? - Dreams -??? - Death- ??? Other: When she arrives, she is happy to find that she is not alone and excited to be meeting all these new people that could possibly be her new friends. Is she worried about not remembering anything or not knowing why she's here? Huh, it never even crossed her mind.</s> <|message|>Brooklyn "Brook" Bridges It smelled. It smelled like ... like the ground. Like dirt. Fresh. Cold ... something wet ... water? Sharp too. Water. Yes. Water ... dirt below it ... something was poking at her. Blades of something. She couldn't see. What. Dirt? She? Yes ... she was a she. Maybe. She was she and she was ... smelling dirt. Face planted into the dirt. Plant? Yes, the blades were grass. Grass. Fresh-smelling grass. Water ... that meant it was dew. It meant ... mornings? Yes. Mornings. Mornings. Face planted in the dirt on a morning. That was what she (yes, she. She was a she.) was doing. What do- She immediately rolled over. Light. Bright light. Arggh. Where was that coming from? Blue. Sky. Giant ball of light. Don't stare at the Sun that's not good for you. Yes. The Sun. She shouldn't stare and her eyes closed and the light was still hurting her. Why was she staring up ... wait she was lying down. That's why. She was lying down and was face-down in the dirt right before and now she was looking at the sky and it was sunny and she rolled over again. It's dark and nice but her mouth feels weird. Mouth. Yes. She tastes something. Peh. Tastes weird. Grainy. Oh it's dirt okay don't eat dirt. Something's pressing into her face. It's cold. It's metal. She rolls over halfway this time (not going to look at the Sun again nope nada nil) and reaches for it. She grabs awkwardly with her right hand. She takes it off. Huh things are blurrier now. In one eye. Eye? Yes she has two eyes and one of them is blurry and ah she wears glasses. Why does she wear glasses. She doesn't seem to really need them she can see well hey look there's a tree in the distance she puts the glasses back on. It's clearer. She likes these glasses. She's also lying in the dirt. She sits up. Neither the sunlight or the dirt is distracting her anymore. She can think. Yes, think. Her mouth still feels funny. That's because she tasted dirt. That's not hygienic, she remembers. Remembers? Wait, why is she here? Who is she? The questions come quickly. Questioning. Yes. Who what when where how ouch her head really hurts. Nothing comes to mind. Wait. What? Nothing she can remember? Zilch. Zero. Nada. Nil. That's not normal. Not normal at all. She's trying to think and nothing's turning up and that's not normal. Deep breaths. Why? It makes her feel better. Why is she feeling better with deep breaths? So that's what her sighs sound like. Okay keep breathing it seems to be working. Who is she? A name comes unbidden to the mind. Brooklyn Bridges. Brooklyn? The name nags at her is it a location her name or what she doesn't know. She knows what a bridge is. She's not a bridge is she? She looks down at the mess that she is. Mess? Yeah there's dirt and grass all over her coat and her red scarf is askew and hey she's wearing runners and those are some pants ... she feels them. What are they made of the word's denim yes denim. Denim pants. Also covered in dirt. Wooly coat, denim pants, red scarf. Woolen too. It's hot, she realises. Why is she wearing this stuff it's hot and she isn't cold and wait where is she? Where is she? Brooklyn Bridges? Is that where this is? It's the only thing she can dredge up. Is she near a bridge? Are there bridges here? She looks around. Grass, grass, grass, trees, trees. No bridges. Okay all she can remember is Brooklyn Bridges and that's the only thing she can work off right now. She stands up. Ergh it feels wobbly. Also it's bright. She's really out of it today. What is today anyway? No no no don't get distracted. She takes another deep breath. Okay. She adjusts the glasses. She pats the dirt and grass off. She fixes up her scarf. Okay. She's hot, it's sunny and she's surrounded by grass. She doesn't remember anything but Brooklyn Bridges. Maybe that's her name. She's not sure for now, but she really wants to hit something. She doesn't know where that comes from. It's sunny. She decides to find some shade. Trees have shade. She takes a tentative step. She knows how to walk. Yes, walking. Gotta walk. The nearest tree is too far away. Man, she wished it was closer. Still, she doesn't want to be out in the sun. "Here we go then," she says, then she realises that she's just spoken. It's a nice voice, she thinks. "So that's what I sound like." Anyway, onwards to the tree.</s> <|message|>Ian Kenton Trees, grass, and all of natures beauties scattered across the scenery, as beautiful as it was, was rather confusing to wake up to and being the first thing to take in after waking up. Taking awkward, careful steps, the boy continued to call out in hopes of finding someone in the maze of a forest. Nothing remotely familiar sprung forth in the brunettes mind. It was almost like he was a newborn, but in an aged body... Perhaps, Ian thought to himself, thinking of his current situation as rebirth wouldn't be such a bad idea. A small sense of both questionable relief and unmistakable unnerving guilt began to sink itself into boy´s gut at the thought. The sound of a girl shouting snapped Ian back to reality, turning himself around, the youth found himself getting washed with relief as a huge, warm smile got plastered on his face. "Well, hello there Emilie, I'm Ian." The brunette spoke calmly despite his overly excited body language, taking the offered hand and giving it perhaps one too many happy shakes. Really, if the boy had been born with a tail and dog ears, the ears would have perked right up as the tail swayed excitedly back and forth. But Ian didn't have a tail, nor the dog ears, though it seemed his body language just spoke for him. Though, before the brunette could find himself answering to the blond´s question of where they were, a third person joined the two. Letting go of Emilies hand, Ian found himself almost skipping happily towards the new girl, reaching his hands out to give her the same overly excited handshake he had just given the blond not that long ago. "Another person! Hey, this it Emilie" Ian stated as he gave the hand a few more happy shakes before gesturing to the short blond. "I'm Ian... It seems we are horribly lost, you wouldn't happen to know a way out of the forest?" The brunette bluntly asked, not trying to sugarcoat his current situation at all. After all, he was lost, and by the sounds of it, so was the blond girl Emilie. Hopefully the second stranger for the day would know a bit more then he did. Something about spending the night in the woods didn't sound all that too appealing.</s> <|message|>Kotori Tsubasa "I'm Ian... It seems we are horribly lost, you wouldn't happen to know a way out of the forest?" A brown haired boy dressed in what looked like a hospital gown came in Kotori`s direction and asked her this question without as much as a sign of hesitation. Behind him there was a girl of about the same heigth as Kotori, which would be the Emilie that this Ian person was talking to until a second ago, or so Kotori thought. However, given that current situation was exactly the same as those two, Kotori didn`t had much help to give them, "I'm sorry, but I'm just a little bird whose wings had been torn asunder... I'm condemned to thread the same earth as you." Though she tried to be direct, stating her name and that she didn't knew more about this place them any of they, the words that left Kotori's mouth were nothing but riddle that served for little more than confusing the other two. She tried to think of a better way to convey what she meant. Why was it so hard for her to talk normally? After a brief sigh, she tried again, "I meant, to say that I'm sorry, but I don't know anything more of this place than any of you. Also my name is Kotori Tsubasa." After that, Kotori decided to join Ian and Emilie as the three of them searched for any signs of other people, who might know more about their situation. --- As they walked, a sudden unrest hit Kotori, the sensation hang heavily at the back of her mind and before she knew it, Kotori had opened her sketchbook and was doing a rough draft of a girl wearing a doll's dress. As the form became clearer, it became obvious that the one that Kotori was drawing was Emilie.</s>

<|message|>Emilie Kraus Emilie tilted her head at the girl with a puzzled look on her face. But after she introduced herself as Kotori, she gave her a large smile. "Hi Kotori, you're kind of funny but you also seem really cool. I hope we will be good friends!" Emilie said in her usual somewhat louder than the average person's voice. While they looked around for any clues of where they were and for others like them, Emilie was humming a tune. She didn't know what she was humming, but it was oddly familiar and nostalgic. As she was skipping, she felt her hands moving to the rhythm of the melody. She took the time to look at her new companions and thought about how nice it was to meet them. Ian seemed like the type of guy that would be like an older brother to her and Kotori was strange, but very interesting and definitely worth getting to know. All in all, Emilie was in a fantastic mood and looked forward to the adventure. Even if they couldn't get out of the forest, there were a lot of animal friends to make and probably food they could eat and maybe even a river to drink from. It was going to be so much fun. She decided to talk a little with Kotori because, well she didn't really have a reason except the fact that she wanted to. "Kotori, what's your favorite color?" she asked, mostly because she didn't have a better question in mind yet. It was still a start, and one could maybe tell a bit about a person's favorite color...right?</s>

<|description|>Arthur Crestshield Gender: Male Race: Human Age: 32 Title/Nickname: The Noble One, Lionheart Kingdom of birth: Silvercliff Worship: Arthur was raised to believe in the god Steel but he does not believe in him nor any other god that is known, he believes there is a true God that he is yet to find Appearance: Magical affinity: Ice mainly and also Lightning but to a lesser extent Skills: Trained to fight wielding a broad sword and also with a bow and arrow but prefers using a sword and can cook a mean stew Equipment: Broadsword, a dagger and arrows without a bow Favorite spells: Summoning lightning bolts with his sword, sometimes using as a conductor to attack enemies or using it almost as an electric sword and creating icy patches on the ground during battles. Character Background History: Arthur comes from the Kingdom of Silvercliff. His life up until the point of joining the Order of the Arcane Knights was nothing special. His father was a Nobleman of the King and so Arthur was trained to follow in his father's footsteps to also serve the King. He was raised to worship the god Steel for giving life to people but he never felt right doing so and this ready made path for his life seemed too empty for him. Arthur also felt that the King was not someone he needed or wanted to protect and serve. Upon finding out about the Order, Arthur was intrigued to learn more, he heard their missions and beliefs and he felt drawn to them, seeking their approval to join the order he did whatever was needed of him. His loyalty and devotion has made him a fierce warrior earning him the nickname Lionheart. By my knighthood I swear: I swear to thee my allegiance</s> <|message|>Tuyta Tuyta made his way up the steps and into the great hall. He was almost in before he heard a thump and turned to see a fellow knight had fallen face first onto the ground and some sort of sloth monster was helping him up. He rubbed his temples while puffing smoke from his pipe. If this was his team he'd have the headstone maker start now. He watched Edward, the leader of the group attempt to break up a small fight between the Sloth and someone who looked to have been from the east. Tuyta just laughed. He made his way into the great hall, puffing away on his pipe as he did.</s> <|message|>Loduzzro Loduzzro looked at the chief-knight figure, then at the one called "Car", then at the funny beast man who said the thing about sticks, though it had confused Loduzzro, then back at the chief-knight. He pondered this offer for a moment. Go with the knights, help them with their knight problems, and become a knight? It sounded almost too good to be true! Loduzzro, however, was not thinking in terms of anything being 'too good to be true'. All he cared to remember was the bit about being rewarded with knighthood. It was perfect! "Okay, chief knight man. Loduzzro help for mission." He clumsily attempted to introduce himself at the same time as he accepted the offer. In an effort to make good on his promise, he reached into the poorly-sewn bag that dangled from his waist, and drew a bright red fruit. "Am useful, give you fruit." he held out the fruit to nobody in particular, as if to prove that he had not been lying.</s> <|message|>Arthur Crestshield Arthur reached the grand entrance along with two others and saw Edwards waiting for them, he spoke to the other two before directing his attention to Arthur with a salute first and then spoke, "Lionheart, I am glad to have your sword join us on this quest." Arthur, without missing a beat retorted "You are glad to have my sword but what about me?" He joked, he usually was not one for jokes but when the opportunity arrived he took it. Soon other Knights began to arrive, one that particularly took his eye was not a knight but was carrying one. The way he spoke made Arthur quite fond of him, gentle was the word that came to mind. He watched as the stranger dragged a large branch and lifted it into the air before slamming down on to the ground causing floor to crack around it. Gentle was no longer the word that came to mind. He was attempting to prove himself to Khar, but Khar was right, he may not have been capable, if anything Arthur now thought he would be more of a danger. Yet, he said nothing, it was not for him to judge. Neither was it for Khar or Quill who were beginning to argue, very unbecoming of a Knight. A popular opinion of Knights that Arthur had heard was that they were so noble, brave and above all else they were strong together because of a bond of knighthood they share, if anyone was to see them now, they would think otherwise. Arthur returned his attention back to Grandmaster Edward, so this stranger with no name had been granted the privilege of joining them on their journey. Speaking of which, the messenger had stated the assignment they were all summoned for was urgent and of the utter most importance, why was the Grandmaster allowing someone untrained to accompany them?</s> <|message|>Hastuk Though not everyone had yet arrived at the bastion (had he been too demanding of the young messenger?) Edward decided it was time. He raised his gauntleted hand in the air and proclaimed: "Knights! If you´d follow me please." As usual, Edward spoke with manner of kind words with a tone however that expected to be obeyed. As he turned to walk deeper into arcane bastion he hailed the guards at the outer door. "If anyone on this list comes looking for me, or Lao wakes up, direct them into the war room, keep the doors open." He handed an small rolled parchment to one of the guards and ventured onward. He and those following him entered firstly into the great hall and even further straight into an large atrium of sorts, this was the war room. It had no chairs to relax in for matters discussed here usually demanded full attention of participants. Its walls were laden with weapons of orders founders as well as trophies from vanquished foes. In the middle of the room was an huge map of known Sophitia carved beautifully from oak wood, it shimmered ever so slightly as it was enchanted to display information of varying types when it was needed to. Edward took his place on far side of map table looking over it at his assembled knights. "Without further delay, we are riding to western Silvercliff, near Al Zidoan borders rises an mountain known as Sunfang. We are to perform an assault, of sorts, on that very mountain." He let his words sink in for a while, as it was known that fighting monsters on their home territory was extremely dangerous. "As most of you have probably suspected, there is more to this one than mere monster hunting, so Ill let the man who requested this operation tell you the rest." With an flash of heat and swirl of sand, Hastuk the unseen appeared next to Edward, overlooking the map table. "Greetings and Sands blessings knights, you have been chosen and summoned here by your grand master to partake in operation that will prove vital to survival of Sophitia. As those of you with eyes to the world know, Silvercliff and Al Zidoa are commencing negotiations for an military alliance in few weeks time consummated with an royal wedding. This alliance however has been in planning for much longer in fact, two years to be precise. Two years ago when I was tasked by an certain man within the sultanate to slaughter the whole of Silvercliffs peace convoy, as I felt this was against the will of Sand I refused. He must have suspected that be my answer from the start. As I turned to leave the palace I was assailed by another clan of assassins, Viper clan, misguided group of fools who think they know the will of Sand better than us at the Silent Scorpion clan. However misguided they are, their martial and arcane prowess is deadly, driven with fanatical purpose. After teaching them a thing or two in Al Zidoan swordsmanship I was forced to retreat, wounded, to Silvercliff. From then on I have kept my eye on the movement of Viper clan, as elusive as they are I have found an lead. They have an outpost on the Sunfang mountain from where they can quickly send operatives into both nations as needed." Here Edward paused Hastuk, believing he had made his point. "With new attempt at negotiations we have every cause to believe that these vermin are planning something to spark an all out war between two great nations, we have to take initiative here, if civilizations of Sophitia start duking it out between themselves, we could all fall prey to ravages of monsters. We shall ride within few hours time to Sunfang, locate Vipers stronghold and raze it to the ground!" Hastuk replied. "AFTER we find out what exactly Viper is planning next. So, questions anyone?"</s> <|message|>Quill They got to visit the mountains and kill people? Quill could hardly believe his luck, was it his birthday? He cared little about politics, the unity and calamity of nations, but keeping up with them did occasionally offer these kinds of benefits. Hunting monsters was all well and good, integral even, to the foundations of the order, but Quill loved when they got to to handle these sorts of things. It helped shed light on how dangerous people were to themselves, on top of the monster threat, there would always be humanity and company to wage some war or another. "One here, yes, a question," Quill proclaimed, hand in the air. "Now, I'm with you one-hundred percent, sandy-man, raze the Vipers, spill the blood, love it sounds like fun. But, with that goal in mind, do we have an actual plan or are we in a more improvising mood? I'm good either way really, happy to come along plan or not."</s> <|message|>Loduzzro A light went on in Loduzzro's head as he heard the plan. It was a very dim light, but it was still there. An idea. If these strange monk-men were living in the mountains, carrying out attacks, surely there were casualties. And if there were casualties, surely there was a need for new membership. "Am have idea for how get good information." Loduzzro's words echoed a bit, like the songs of a forlorn whale. "Maybe I go for pretend be Viper man, learn plan and signal for attack." He was very confident in this poorly thought out, half formed plan. Realizing none of the knights had taken the fruit from his hand, he held it up. "Offer this as joining fee, maybe. Is good fruit."</s> <|message|>Lao Xijer Lao Xijer Lao's lunch break ended as quickly as it started. He had ate hundreds of plates worth of food, anyone who had to clean them all was up for a challenge. Lao wiped his mouth stood up from the table, he was not here to eat, but he was called here on urgent business. Lao glanced at the lady servant who had graciously brought him all his food and smiled. "Thanks, oh and give my second thanks to the chef." He said as he waved and walked out of the dining room. The servant simply bowed and started to gather the discarded plates that were left on the table. Lao was directed to the War room, and made it inside just as the explanation begin. So 2 of the many kingdom were discussing thr possibility of a military alliance through royal marriage. It was the generic thing that almost every kingdom did to make sure they were safe in the end. Allegedly, this man was sent to kill the convoy that started the negotiations. He refused, but was attacked by a group of strong assassins. He escaped, and know he know where they are located. Lao was perplexed, why would this man see it fit to kill them. If they went around hunting every single assassin they could find, they would be dead within a week. But if they were planning to incite a war, then it made sense that they would have to destroy them. Anyone who wanted to destroy the relative peace that they lived in, Lao despised them. The questions wetr the ones that were starting the perplex him. In all seriousness, why plan, what were they gonna do, plan out some elaborate scheme to fight assassins, didn't make much sense to him. "Formulating a plan to fight trained assassins does not make much sense to me, they won't hide from us, and if there do, we find them." He simply with a smile on his face. "But, if a plan in truly needed, I believe I have one." He said quickly. "Trying to fight them in an environment that they are familiar with may be dangerous. A group of use should lead them way, while another infiltrates there hold, the plans may be inside." He said scratching his check throughout most of the explanation. "We should probably use, Hastuk to draw them out, have him lead them to use, and we fight!" He proclaimed. This was only one of the many plans he had in his head, but this one seemed to be the best of them all, or better then the furry beast man's.</s> <|message|>Hastuk To Quill Hastuk shot an sideways glance. "...We only know the rough estimates of their position on the mountain, we´ll formulate plan of assault when we know exactly what were up against." One could not see under Hastuks face wrappings but surely his face was twisted in a scowl when Loduzzro presented his idea. Edward seemed to be pleased with it though. "How about it friend? Dont you desert dwellers love fruit?" "Misguided as they may be, Vipers are true men and women of Al Zidoa, their recruits are trained from childhood to wield blade and spell with deadly purpose. At best theyd throw any would be infiltrators into an box in ground to scorch and at worst..." Then Lao made his proposition. "...For now I forgive the arrogance at using me as some glorified bait as that might actually work. We will see when we get there." Edward nodded and made an sweeping gesture trough the air. "What ever your favored method of transportation is I suggest haste, Should the enemy suspect anything is up they would surely relocate their operations. I have sent some squires ahead to set an base camp near Sunfang. As always our stables are at your disposal knights. Will you ride with us Hastuk?" "I prefer my ways trough the land, Ill meet you at the base camp. Good hunting and Sands favor to you Knights"</s>

<|message|>Arthur Crestshield Arthur followed the Grandmaster and others into the war room, the trophies are what caught his eye. Arthur's dream was to someday have something to place inside this room, he hoped in his life as a Knight he would have done enough good and displayed enough bravery to be remembered like the founders and some of those before him. Arthur stood among his comrades around the map table and listened as Edward spoke. They were to slay foes on Sunfang Mountain, Arthur has slayed many foes before but whether this mountain would make a difference was something he'd have to see when they got there. A mini sand tornado appeared on the opposite side of the table, the tornado gave off a burst of heat, which Arthur felt on against his face, as Hastuk arrived. Hastuk address Arthur and his fellow knights mentioning the royal wedding. Arthur preferred to stay out of affairs of the royals but as it was his duty he had no choice. The Viper clan would be dangerous and highly skilled but the Arcane Knights would surely defeat them, something Arthur truly believed. He listened as Quill, the sloth man...Loduzzro and Lao weighed in on the mission. Arthur had no questions or plans of attack to contribute; he would follow orders and do as he was needed to do. Arthur had no use for the Order's horses, he hoped his own Stallion had been fed, watered and rested; he would use no other horse as no other horse would suffice.</s>

<|description|>Kyle Yu Age: 26 Gender: Male Appearance: Kyle is slightly taller than average at 5'11" and has a wiry physique. There is some faint scarring near major joints (knees, hips, shoulders, etc) left over from the treatment that gave him his power. His facial features testify to his Asian heritage, though his nose is slightly misshapen from an incident in high school. He usually has a pair of polarized sports goggles on his face or around his neck to help protect his eyes when running at speed. He keeps his black hair cropped short and his face clean shaven to avoid getting in the way. Personality: Kyle is a very patient person. He likes to sit back, observe a situation, and come up with a mental plan before acting. He does find using his powers a rush, and takes great satisfaction in using them to successfully carry out a plan. Because of his powers, he often has to make efforts to not move too quickly for other people to keep up with him. Motive: Kyle started out his law enforcement career as a Guardian because he grew up during the crime wave that struck the city in the late 2030's. He joined the police force as a detective to prevent that sort of thing from happening again. When he learned of the missing Guardians, he volunteered for the Guardian Angel project to prevent a second super-powered crime wave. Ability: Super Speed. Muscle twitch optimization means that Kyle can move much faster for the same amount of effort. For example, running at highway speeds is a light jog for him and he can perform reflex actions in a fraction of the time it would take a normal person to do so. Team: (I will give you this) Extras: - Kyle often wears protective clothing similar to biker armor that complements his powers. It provides stab and bullet protection in addition to protection against impact and abrasion. This is necessary since tripping at speed can be very painful. - Fighting wise, he has continued to practice and hone the fighting skills he was taught in the police academy (unarmed, baton, and handgun) as well as taking up knife fighting.</s> <|message|>Rhiannon Jones Normally, Rhiannon might let any reference to her appearance (of which she was aware was quite attractive) slide when it came from a new co-worker but since they were going to be in this place for some time she figured it was best to bring attention to it. "Cute? Damn, I was going for drop-dead gorgeous but sure." She returned the joking grin. She liked Caden, she found, largely because there was no malice behind that smile. It was a refreshing change. "I guess. Then again, if you're the beta testers we must be the alphas." Every Guardian knew that they were an on-going experiment in the fight against this new tidal wave of crime and for Rhiannon these 'Angels' were merely the next evolution on. It was simple escalation: the criminals get powers, the government creates the Guardians; the Guardians start being killed or turn up crazy, the government creates the 'Angels'. Just like before: the criminals got guns, the government got bullet-proof jackets and then criminals got armour-piercing rounds. Kyle then joined them, introducing himself a little more fully than Rhiannon had. While she had assumed Caden would have seen their profiles, it never hurt to sum it by oneself, especially as the others wouldn't know those details. "Hi, Kyle. I'm Rhiannon. Similar story to Caden for me; I joined the military back in Britain and got posted over here for foreign relations. They scouted me out for the Guardians because... well, uh, I guess because I had some experience with the criminal underworld and they thought that'd be useful." She stumbled over her explanation, not wanting to reveal her entire troubled past to people she had just met. Thankfully Caden carried on and it was soon forgotten. "It's like a live-in leisure centre or recreation park in here." Rhiannon said in amused wonder, the sheer variety of facilities something that would surprise just about anyone. Noticing the scientists acknowledging Caden she commented, phrasing it as a question. "You're quite respected around here?"</s> <|message|>Tavi Jackspar Tavi couldn't help but preen a bit at the compliment from Alex, like a peacock his colors were on display for the whole world to see and he wouldn't have it any other way. It was a shame he didn't see anyone else showing similar tastes, it had been awhile since he'd been able to talk fashion, but he supposed the simple admiration would suffice. As they continued on through the facility, Tavi was surprised to hear that the luggage was all delivered unpacked. Inconvenient, and she made it sound as though they all might be hiding something. Oh well, he had nothing to hide and he supposed it really would be for the best if he did all the sorting himself. Wouldn't want some other suit-and-tie lackey mismatching all of his outfits. At least the rooms were nice, nicer than the little motel he'd come from anyway. Fancy 'window', fancy lights, a nice bed and storage for his clothes. It was missing something though, and he dipped out of the room, going back to Silvia. "Pardon, where will the washrooms be? I trust they're not communal," he asked, glancing up and down the hallway.</s> <|message|>Jackson Arrowsmith Jackson saw the squad list and hopped up and wanderd over to his little island of missfit Toys."Hey everyone, my names Jackson, as the other Angel stated". Jackson wasn't sure how she shoud approach this, would Caden think that Jack was insulting him and would he have an attitude or would everything be fine. He might as well adress it while he could. "Hey, Caden about what I said I didn't mean to make it sound like I didn't want you guys around, i'm sure you'll be fine leaders". Jack was somewhat lying, of couse their indivitual skills would be a gret asset but wouldn't it make more sense to have guardians leading guardians? After thinking more into this he came to the conclusion that the Angels could be just survalllance for the Director, keeping her attak dogs in line. He brushed it off and focased on the social gathering taking place infront of him.</s> <|message|>Caden Black Caden chuckled at Rhiannon's response, glad to have someone with a sense of humor on his team. Nothing would be more upsetting to him than having someone too uptight to appreciate the things he says. The girl was spot on her with own analysis of the Guardians' position as "alpha testers", their roles ever changing as the world called for it... At least the Angels were given one specific mission to accomplish while the Guardians just mostly had to wing it, even now. While Caden had been given the opportunity to read through the files of those assigned to his team, he much preferred having the people themselves reveal what they liked. The files contained some pretty personal things from all of the candidates, it wouldn't do to have him blurting out things that were their business alone. Soon Jackson was speaking up with his own short intro, following it up with an apology of sorts. Nothing the guy had said had offended him in anyway but Caden figured he would accept it anyway. "It's alright man, your skepticism is right on par with what we expected. Silvia just gets a little touchy over doubts like that, hits extremely close to home and often gets misinterpreted as a personal attack." Caden shrugged with an apologetic smile. It was the first time he'd ever seen Silvia so close to a real emotion, and while he didn't know her full story, he was sure that there was something complicated behind her role as an Angel. "You're quite respected around here?" Caden shook his head out of his thoughts and nodded. "In a way, I guess I am. I'm a successful product of their hard work, so I'd say they're more proud of me than anything... But with how personal our testing got, the Angels and their creators got to know each other pretty well. It's a mutual respect with me, but Silv's another story." He didn't mean to bad mouth the girl hell he considered her a little sister, someone to look out for... He probably knew her the best out of all the people they worked with, but sometimes she was too much even for him to understand. "Anyway, it's not just me they respect. You're real life superheroes to these guys, working with you will probably be the best thing to happen to them in a long time." He glanced at the researchers fondly before steering his group towards his favorite windows, explaining to them why they had the types of training they did. ~~~ Silvia stood in the middle of the hall as her Guardians ran to their rooms to check things out. Tavi was the first to return with a question, one she had forgot to explain until someone had mentioned it. "Technically it is communal, designed similarly to the Japanese bath house. There's a main room with some cubbies where you all can store your shower supplies but two separate bathing areas for your preferred gender. Each side has both a set of shower stalls as well as a bath large enough to fit ten people. Personally I like the bath." It was probably an odd set up for those used to the complete privacy of a bathroom in their room, but it wasn't as bad once you got used to it.</s> <|message|>Thomas Creed Walking down the hall while taking the tour, Thomas couldn't help but chuckle when the living arrangements were fully explained. He could do whatever he wanted with the room? How fun. Nothing would be done. Thomas liked his monotonous room, lacking of anything that could taunt him at night. Then one of his team asked a very important question. "Pardon," Tavi, the man with flair asked, "Where will the washrooms be? I trust they're not communal." That was a question that Thomas thought would be important to know, now that it had been brought up. He hoped that they were private, as he not only was very self-conscious, but he also would feel embarrassed around other.... naked people. "Technically it is communal," Silvia explained, "Designed similarly to the Japanese bath house. There's a main room with some cubbies where you all can store your shower supplies but two separate bathing areas for your preferred gender. Each side has both a set of shower stalls as well as a bath large enough to fit ten people. Personally I like the bath." Joy. Just what Thomas needed: More things to worry about. Thankfully, Thomas was able to keep his emotions under control, as Silvia has explained that there were, in fact, shower stalls. As long as he would not be forced to be naked in front of others, Thomas would be okay. He could deal with seeing others naked. He tried to hide the blood that rushed to his cheeks from nervousness as he stood silent.</s> <|message|>Alexandra (Alex) Denali Alex came out of her room just in time to catch the end of Sylvia's explanation. Inwardly, she winced, glad the bathing areas were at least separated by gender, but disappointed by the lack of privacy. The occasional performance in her dance program meant that she'd had to get over any shyness, where her body was concerned—sometimes, there just wasn't time to find a dressing room between acts, and the shadows backstage might be the only curtain you had—but this was a little different, and a hot shower at the end of the day was her time to meditate and relax. She wasn't above bathing in the middle of the night to preserve that. Pushing that thought aside for the moment, she said, "These rooms are great." It was embarrassing, really, how much the cool features had delighted her, especially when she'd figured out the lights. She'd spent a minute flipping through some of the settings, watching all kinds of crazy colors splash over the walls and floor. The lack of real windows was unsettling, but, as she had forced herself to remember, this wasn't some fancy hotel—it was, first and foremost, a safe house. We are not here to have fun, Alex told herself, firmly. Then, before she could help it: I wonder what she'll show us next?</s> <|message|>Rhiannon Jones Rhiannon walked after Caden, mulling over what he had said. "It's good that they don't just see you as a test subject then; you were also a human being. I think that's important. And it was probably hard on them too." There was no way for her to know what the end result for the other test subjects, those who failed, was but she suspected that at least in some cases the 'end' had just been that. It would have been easier for the scientists to detach themselves emotionally in that circumstance, the fact that they didn't either made them extremely determined or it made Caden charismatic and she knew which one she figured to be most likely. She also didn't pursue his note about Silvia; it wasn't right to ask about someone else's personal information without them present. She laughed a bit when he spoke of the scientists' views on the Guardians. "'Superheroes' is stretching it a bit much, surely? Maybe more like celebrated soldiers coming back from a hard war." Although they were at war, just a different kind to the one they had all expected. She caught the emotion in his glance but said nothing, carrying on after him as he guided them through the various facilities. "I hope we don't use our abilities with all these training regimes." She said, eyeing the mats on the floor clearly laid out for the purpose of hand-to-hand combat practice. She was an accomplished martial artists and coupled with her ability... while she didn't know the others' abilities if she got a bad pairing and it went a bit far she could accidentally injure someone very seriously. Or worse. "Although I guess that would be wasteful, we can only use them so much. Speaking of which, what variety do we have in our team? I'm guessing you already know."</s>

<|message|>Kyle Yu Kyle had been hanging back while Rhiannon and Caden talked. It seemed like they were hitting it off pretty well. Or at least Caden was more interested in her than what Kyle had said... Either way the facility seemed extensive enough, though Kyle would have to see if there was a firing range onsite or not, and the others had asked most of the questions he was interested in. Rhiannon soon gave Kyle an opportunity to join in again. "I hope we don't use our abilities with all these training regimes." She said as they walked around a modern looking dojo."Although I guess that would be wasteful, we can only use them so much. Speaking of which, what variety do we have in our team? I'm guessing you already know." "Well, I've been modified to move faster. Run faster, climb faster, text faster, that sort of thing. And I'm actually hoping we can use our abilities a lot when training. We need to be as familiar as possible with our abilities if we are going to use them effectively. If nothing else, we need to get our endurance up for those dire situations. Not to say that we shouldn't expand on our other skills. I used to work with the Police Department, and they hammered home the need to us to be versatile."</s>

<|description|>AGATHA SMITH Appearance: Standing at 5'6", Agatha has sharp features and a smile that could cut an NC to ribbons. Hair once flaxen has long since gone gray, which is pulled into a loose bun. Deep set green eyes and a pointed nose. Some people have told her she has the face of a 1st grade Math teacher who takes joy in assigning homework over the weekend. While not a weight lifter, she has a solid frame from years of hard work on the surface. Tends to wear a faded burgundy vest over an oil stained grey jumpsuit. Age: 58 Role: Scout Sniper Personality: Agatha is a restless woman who finds there is no worse fate than finding yourself without purpose. Give's 110% percent to everything she does, and is a strong proponent of clean living, or as clean as one can get outside the burrows. Carries herself with a wizened air of experience that comes with age, not book smarts. Could be described as desperate in search for a cause, desperate enough to come to Anchorage. Doesn't acknowledge her own bitterness with having settled down and giving up on piloting. Feels like she lost out on something important, but can't besmirch her husbands memory or their daughters to disregard their lives together as unimportant. Biography: Born and raised on the surface, Agatha always knew she was a special snowflake. At the bizarrely typical age of 14, she was found compatible to pilot an NC. Like so many before her she was drawn into piloting a bipedal weapon of mass destruction and had many mercantile adventures as an independent NC operator that aren't worth recollection. The kinds of adventures that blur together but can often be summed up as, 'Go to exotic locations, meet interesting people, and kill them'. Throughout her ventures she had a loyal mechanic who would have followed her to hell and back by the name of Albert Smith. He wasn't particularly handsome or clever, but he was loyal, sweet, and won over her affections through his perseverance. At 27 Agatha was married, by 28 she had a daughter and another on the way. Finding their means of employment too dangerous to foster a family, they decided it was prudent for Agatha to set aside the adventuring for a more sedentary lifestyle. Investing their considerable saving towards setting up shop in a scrapyard, Agatha began a new life as a mother and family woman. For years, that was good enough. All the effort she had put forth piloting her NC was directed towards running the scrapyard and raising her kids. There wasn't the same rush that came with piloting a multi-ton automaton, but she was satisfied for a time. Then the children grew up, and left the nest to find out their own destinies. To be the special snowflakes that have fantastical opportunities all lined up for the taking if they only go out and claim them. Her husband of 29 years had grown ill and passed peacefully in his sleep. That left Agatha, with a job she didn't care for and no one relying upon her. Most would have considered this time to retire, settle down and indulge herself before the inevitable end, but she couldn't. Even with the best years of her life in the past, she knew she had more to give. Firing up the old NC, which had been used as a makeshift crane for the scrapyard, she went out to recapture her lost glory, but found there wasn't any demand for someone so long out of the game. The only ones as desperate as she was where the good folks down at New Anchorage, and they just so happened to be looking for any pilot that would come their way. Tactical Preference: Specializes in the collection and dissemination of tactical information with the armaments to capitalize on this knowledge with unparalleled veracity from long range. Relies upon heavy thrusters to facilitate rapid repositioning to out maneuver and evade enemy forces. Word Color: Teal 008080 NC Codename: Charon NC Appearance: Body Type: Moderately armored bipedal NC specialized towards ease of movement and relocation. Meant to be a Sniper who repositions with each shot and endeavors to flank an enemy rather than engage from extreme long range at a stationary position. The armor isn't enough for front line combat, but is sufficient to keep Charon active while exposed during relocation. Equipment: -Powerful, back mounted thruster pack for explosive bursts of propulsion meant for either rapid ascent on a vertical plane or dashing forward to cover long distance in a short time. -Advanced Targeting suite to magnify targets up to 60x and offer thermal and night vision capabilities at range. Will paint targets viewed through optics with a marker that will be relayed to friendly units. Armaments: - PXS-8.0 'Opticor' Super heavy Maser rifle. - leg mounted dumb fire rocket pods. 2 pods per leg, 12 rockets each. - Shoulder mounted smoke grenade launcher.</s> <|message|>Michael A. Graham --- --- ALVAREZDEPOT STATION, NEW ANCHORAGE AROUND NOON --- --- "URTU-07." The voice of Matthew Alvarez could barely be heard over the sound of screeching metal and hot steam as the tram finally had arrived at New Anchorage's operational base. After Graham had asked him about reconfirmation about the time, Matthew had decided to prepare for the greeting as it was a great deal of his job as operations administrator to do so. Truth be told, while he preferred Graham's direction compared to how Sophia handled things there wasn't much of a difference in terms of adding new pilots to the operation's roster. He had done it when Stein Kalfox was incorporated and here he was doing it with the new recruits that came in for their application. Then again, half-a-dozen pilots would take tasking more thoughts than one or two. But he had tasked mundane non-NC pilots in greater amount, so he figured this wouldn't result in much difficulty. He stood there with datapad in hand, as he adjusted the glasses. As he awaited the doors to open and the New Anchorage passengers to exit, he waved one of the depot coordinators over. His tone was flat and quiet, but somehow through all of the racket he was audible. "Ms. Pryde." "Yes, operations administrator?" "I want the transport units working fast and efficiently— each NC should be in the NC hangar before Graham steps foot in there. Do you understand?" "Yes, I'm on it." If there was one thing Sophia abandoning New Anchorage did it was increase its efficiency— one of the central reasons Matthew was quite favorable towards Graham's organizational overhaul. Though, there were many differences of opinion about Graham as soon as he showed up and started "barking" even though Matthew disagreed that the barking was unwarranted. He thought back to the complaints that the Head of NC Analysis before James Lofgren was spouting likening Graham as a "despot", "corporate wolverine", and "psychopath". Matthew had been more than happy to give him his official dismissal. Unfortunately, he wasn't the first one to share discontent with Graham out of addled paranoia and a lot of the operation took a bit of a hit for it. Infantile emotions had no business of existing when there was a job to do. But New Anchorage recovered from it and was all the better for it. Good riddance. Ending his thought, he nodded as his hands waved her off, "Good. Go." Matthew flipped through the datapad with a pen as he looked over the dossiers he had compiled, though he did so briefly. While he remember the information in his memory he still was helpful to look it over. He was good with information and knowledge… less so with faces. His datapen stopped on a name and face he recognized more than the rest— John Strange or rather as some of the other pilots knew him as, Jingo. It was good to have a familiar proven pilot returning back to New Anchorage. Unlike the rest of the motley crew of pilots, Graham probably wouldn't require him to go through the introductory process; it would be pretty simply to renegotiate his contract. He moved his attention to the time in the corner of the datapad. 12:06. Any minute now.</s> <|message|>Name Alexander Sky ALEXANDER SKYPASSENGER CAR, INDUSTRIAL TRAM; OUTSKIRTS OF NEW ANCHORAGE BASE Alexander would notice the barely dressed man who, despite his disfigurements, still held some trace of good looks, and not bat an eye as Jingo - not that he knew his name yet - reached out for a prostethic, sweat dripping down Alexander's lap. The latter would then observe as the man played with his robot dog; would that be a loophole in any No Pets Allowed policy in the base? Then, Alexander would finally speak. "It's okay, I'm fine with it," the twenty-four year old would then smile. "Anyway, I won't lie, any day I see anyone, male or female, bare-chested is a good day," he would then try and think of a topic of conversation, before realizing— "I think we've arrived." Then it hit him; they've arrived! Straightening his flight jacket and jumpsuit, Alexander waited for the Passenger Tram to open, being careful not to be the one to enter the base first; that might strike the commander as overeager and unprofessional. Instead, he deffered to Jingo or Agatha as they moved out, following them deferentially. He wasn't stupid; appearing overenthusiastic would just rub the more 'settled' of the pilots in the base the wrong way. As he walked outside, he can smell the scent of urine and blood behind him; again, he ignored it, although he was having an inkling where it had come from - he was just ignoring it. It's going to be hard to protect that kid, were his only thoughts on the matter, before, as he walked outside to the cold air, doing some introspection. He was not totally certain that New Anchorage was the chance for atonement he presumed; as Denver-Vegas was Red-Star's enemy, he had heard of the 'Blood Trinity' of that corporation, and he had no illusions that a member of said 'Blood Trinity' was going to give 'moral' orders to him or anyone else. But, Graham wasn't corporate, and so that still made him better than other potential paymasters. Of course, residual loyalty to D-V might make the commander treat Alexander badly, especially if Nathaniel Ingram was related to the Grahams or other members of the B3. He probably wasn't, but Alexander was a little paranoid. But there was another part of Alexander who thought: Squee, I get to see a mech as famous as Hyperion! He was already imagining it as a blue-and-gold mech which evoked the sun in a blue sky, or as a heavy D-V model packed with weapons...</s>

<|message|>AGATHA SMITH Depot Station, New Anchorage --- Agatha stepped off the train and into the buzz of activity that was the unloading of a half a dozen NC's and lord knew what else from the train. Lights flashed, sirens wailed, and the shouts of foreman coalesced together into a nigh incoherent assault on the senses. A sharp inhale brought with it the scent of oil, slick and permeating the air of the platform. "About damn time." Even on it's busiest days the scrapyard never felt so active. There was an air of uncertainty that hung heavy on the platform, falling upon her shoulders like a familiar coat. What was life if you could see if from start to finish? Certainty of your future was infinitely worse than uncertainty. A bit of fear can serve as an excellent motivator. A dash of desperation pushes people to their limits and beyond. She acknowledged the situation must be grim if they'll take an aged lion like herself when every other independent couldn't show her the door quick enough. However, even if the New Anchorage was on the verge of collapse, she was going to fight so long as she had fuel and munitions for her NC. If Anchorage would give her a shot, she'd be damned before she proved them wrong. Spotting someone who carried himself like the man in charge, casually perusing a datapad amidst the hustle and bustle, gave her cause to think he would be worth talking to. Breaking into a brisk jog she was before him shortly. There was a click as she brought her boots together and stood proudly at attention. Face stern, severe, and struggling with every fiber of her being to contain her excitement, she proudly declared, "Agatha Smith, Pilot of NC Charon, reporting for duty." It may have made her look eager, but she wasn't going to make an effort to lie about that. Agatha was living the dream, and wasn't going to let the other's pilot's reticence hold her back.</s>

<|description|>Ragula of Istiniar Appearance: Age: 37 Gender: Female Personality: Ragula is a cold, passive woman that prefers to listen and think then act and suggest. She works less as an addition to the brainstorm and battle tactics, and more as someone to keep things back into the lines of possible. She hates violence and always prefers to lead things to a less aggressive means of ending a confrontation. She is a wise lady, one who feels for her people but knows that she has no way to protect them until she has secured safety for her kingdom in general. A natural leader but less through moral and bravado and more through a way of manipulation and stubbornness, she is a lady that will strike you as a statue but quickly become animated in ways you would rarely see any man even twice as powerful as herself even imagine. Backstory: Ragula was the daughter of Istiniar's Village elder, a man who had been threatening time and time again to have the village willingly be captured by the rival of swadia. Istiniar was a prosperous town purely due to the hard work of the men and women that worked and lived they're, despite the odds and do to traitors hidden in the nobility, who had been purposefully over taxing them. In order to help alleviate stress, one of the many noblemen were forced to marry her. The wedding helped her slowly begin to infiltrate her new husband's agenda. It was her vendetta with the man who overtaxed her people that suddenly sparked a desire to rid her entire kingdom of traitors, rebels and internal struggle which she did through her husband. Unfortunately, her husband has killed via poisoning that she was to have drunk yet she had no thanks to him imploring that she wait for him to try it first. In her anger, she fought restlessly for rights over his army, kingdom, and wealth and trained herself by capturing rebels and bandits and forcing them to battle her with training weapons, granted freedom only if they could beat her. She proved remarkably resilient and a quick learner, slowly engrossing herself in an obsession with battle and war, spending all of her time learning how to fight or lead an army and other required needs for combat. When she was called forth for the first time, for a siege of a Swadian castle, she proved her worth, as she not only led the siege but improved their odds with her studies of seize tools and when they failed do to a noble of their own side switching sides and attacking them by surprise, she single-handedly defended the others as they retreated with nothing but her small army. She has since then been given a significantly larger army that she has left at her castle to train immensely as she travels with a much smaller group to attempt to make peace with the other military forces without violence. Skills: Tactics Training Surgery wound treatment Engineering Weapons/Equipment: Military scythe Short sword Heater sheild Plate armor Leather gloves Woolen hose Wimple (for disguise) Sausage x3 Honey x1 Other: Ragula, of course, is a midow, and because of so many nobles of Rhodoks are attempting to sway her to marry so that they may have her large army and the moral boost of Ragula.</s> <|message|>Brenna Jorguund. Brenna had heard the whispers in the air of some nobles summoning folks high and low to the border of Swadia and Rhodok to swear legiances and swords to their respective kingdoms. She scoffed at the idea, she would make her own way--although it couldn't hurt to go to the ordeal, she always heard how these balls where these nobles congregate is a good a time as any to make a few connectoins; maybe she could woo some old hag into courting her. But first she had to doll herself up a bit. Surely they wouldn't let a peasant into a house of lords. Sunrise above, Brenna put down her scythe and went inside to wash up as best she could; there were few adequate means of hygiene on this ragged farm--she was one of the few young hands her employed to tend to the fields in his sickly days, but he was the only one with any experience in irridation and piping; "a girl shouldn't dirty her hands like that, darlin'", pfft. So she found the best wear she could, an olive green dress and a cheap golden neckless. She pulled her hair back and twisted it into a bun, sure to let no strang loose--she heard the upper class thought it wasn't "fitting of an upright woman" to have loose ends. To them, it meant a woman was sloppy. Idiotic lords and their arbitrary customs. But alas, she had no time to waste. She went to her father's quarters and kissed him on the cheek--he was sleeping. "I'll be back, papa. I promise." Soft fingertips rubbed his wrinkled forehead and she turned to leave the room. Just before she did, she remembered something; the dagger her father used to carry with him in his younger years when he would visit the taverns. He always kept it in the drawer next to his bed when he slept. She quietly peeled open the drawer andd acquired the dagger which she holstered in one of her bra straps. Then she set out to the horse stable to acquire one of the smaller, speedier steeds. She saddled up and rode off. It took her no time--an hour at most--to reach the border where this soiree was taking place. She dismounted the horse a few paces away, they'd think her a raider or a pirate. She moved up to the gates and put on her best prim accent, "Pardon me, sirs--" an inviting, soft smile. "--I am an attendant of one of the ladies." "Who?" One of the brutish guards repulsed. She had half a mind to slit his throat right then. "Lady Eskyr" a made up name to be sure, but one that sounded close enough to a relative of the high-crown that she had overheard during one of her occasional trips to the local taverns. Hopefully this made up noblewoman had lots of servants. To her suprise, the guards stepped aside. The path to glory had begun.</s> <|message|>Temujin Noyan, The Blue Wolf The trip from the steppes to the Swadian plains had been a pleasantly uneventful one. Temujin and his small band had arrived to the gathering among the first arrivals. The small gathering of Khergits had built their yurt in a corner of the - at that time - small camp and kept mostly to themselves for now. They were after all technically in enemy territory - though there currently was a peace treaty between the Khanate and Swadia the Blue Wolf would take no chances. There were whispers around the camp - some about him, sadly most of those far from the truth. The Khergit had heard someone refer to him as Temujin Khan - he did not care for such speech, but even he had to laugh at it. He was far from a Khan, but... It had a nice ring to it. The Noyan had politely corrected the other man by reminding that there was only room for one Khan and adding as a jest that he himself wasn't made of quite stern enough stuff to be a Khan. Once again Temujin and his men found themselves spending their time sitting around their campfire, drinking tea with goat's milk and offering a cup and a seat to any passer by who was brave enough to join them. Most of the talking was done by the other Khergits, with Temujin offering a few words every now and again - mostly words of dry humor, or an anecdote fitting the matter that was discussed upon. He glanced at the black banner of his that flowed lazily in the breeze, then turned his attention back to more examining the newest arrivals than actually paying heed to the conversation going around him.</s> <|message|>Adrick Gordonson There would be opportunities aplenty, and drink for the thirsty and a place to pitch a tent for the weary, or so the promise went. Adrick slicked his hair back from his eyes staring at the distant collection of tents. Three days of riding and little sleep left the man weary eyed and thirsty, denoted by the empty wine skin that hung limp at his side and the bags under his eyes. The horse beneath him panted with each step, plodding down the rocky mountain path at an ever slowing pace. Adrick felt no need to rush the final legs of his journey, not with his destination in sight. Such enthusiasm could be left to those who envisioned a greater tomorrow, who served on bended knee to their liege lord squirming to receive his praise and admiration. In some ways this made Adrick less of a liability, as long as the intended task wasn't required to be punctual. This latest employer was aware of Adrick's temperament however, having utilized his services in the past, and in anticipation gave the mercenary ample time to complete his mission. "Easy, watch ye step old lad, not too far now." Adrick soothed patting his horse's neck. The steed whinnied, a few rocks shifting out from under his unsteady iron shoes. While surefooted on the flat ground the beast like most warhorses wasn't built for riding up and down the Rhodokian mountains, at least not with ease. By late morning Adrick arrived at his northern destination, riding boldly across the open ground towards the palisade's entrance. One of the guards stepped forward flanked by another guard, taking the horse's bridal in his armored fist, clicking his tongue in a manner of one used to such practices. Adrick stared down as if surprised by this action. "I asked you to halt and declare," the guard accused with a frustrated growl. "State your name and business here." "My name is who gives a damn, and my business is mind yer own." Adrick laughed, taking his foot from the stirrup and kicking the guard's hand from the bridal. "But if ye desperately want to know I have a dispatch from Sir Guliven for Sir Culiven his brother, who ought to be here now. If ye have any brains yer going to move and let me deliver it bastard." "Why you vile brigand, I'll have your hand for that!" The guard reached for his sword but his companion stopped him, staring Adrick in the eye. "You will have the seal then?" He asked, holding out his hand. "Aye," Adrick reached into his pocket, placing the slightly crumpled scroll into the man's hand. For a moment the guard stared at the wax seal, before giving it back. "Very well, in you go straight to Sir Culiven's tent." The guards stepped aside, allowing Adrick to ride past, sneering in victory. The guard he had kicked and insulted was red faced and furious, but he made no move to harry the mercenary further. The lord's mail was not to be stopped, no matter how rude the messenger was.</s> <|message|>Ragula of Istiniar Ragula looked out into the courtyard with cold eyes, the wind catching her crudely made-up hair, a wavy strand dangling to her left eye. She had left her battalion to camp out with the rest, spending large sums on alcohol and fine meals for them so that the military groups may loosen up. This whole thing was risky, but she felt it was the only way to unite the people of Caldradia. Taking a deep breath she walked down from her room, stepping towards the entrance to look at the ongoers. The first, a wanderer she assumed to be a hired sword. She'd keep an eye on him. The next was a girl she felt was almost too posh, and any noblewoman that smelled of manure was an oddity, but she felt she would be no harm with the surplus of guards around. The final was a young man, who she knew well. When at war, he was there well-needed cavalry, again and again, saving her hind time and time over. She chuckled at his games, rude as they were, it was nice to calm her nerves in these trying time. Her hand went out to the first person she acknowledged as worthy of being here. He had been pivotal in keeping rhodoks safe from invasion and deserved a say in pressing matters as these. Moving to him, her hand reached out to shake. The pale and older widow attempted a smile. It'd be nice to test her social skills against him, they'd been unused for years now. "Adrick Gordonson! It's a surprise to see you" Her low and deep voice boomed, it was smooth and cold, almost like a mother catching you coming home late at night. "I am sure you're behaving yourself? What brings you here?" She continued, teasing him. A small grin slowly raising across her face, one that had been absent so long that it looked almost wrong.</s> <|message|>Adrick Gordonson Crossing the palisade's threshold Adrick soon found himself emerging into the bustle of an army camp. Strong men, weak men, men with weapons and men with armies mingled among the tents wishing to find direction and the ultimatum, war. Adrick himself had no idea where to start looking for Culvien, and could only hope to stumble upon the knight walking up and down the rows of tents. A frustrating task no doubt, but one he was willing to accomplish for the promised hundred denars. He was about to press on when a deep feminine voice hailed him, causing Adick to turn in the saddle. At first his eyes glazed over in confusion not recognizing the tall, pale women but in a flash he remembered, willingly dismounting from his horse and saluting Ragula with a raised hand. "M'lady, haha if it in'nt Madame blood chiller. How long has it been since we've seen eye to eye, I cannot recall?" He took Ragula's hand in his own, shaking it warmly. He spoke to her in his usual grating way, but his voice was tinged in respect for the widow before him. "Behaving myself," he snorted waving off the phrase as if it was a passing breeze. "Never, no I have been up to as much foul decadence that I can accomplish without being thrown into a castle cell. Today being the exception of course, delivering a knight's bloody mail. But as I always say, nothing is beneath me when it comes to easy denars. Perhaps ye've heard of a sir Culvien and could direct me towards his tent, then we could sit down for a drink and catch up on olden times with my reward money. Ye would pay of course."</s>

<|message|>Ragula of Istiniar Perhaps I could spend some money for banter, but then again, that's essentially what I am here to do" She remarked before putting up her hand up, pointing her finger to the large camp building for the soldiers and Temujin. "I assume he's somewhere within the encampment, most likely drilling his troops on their manners. I wish you luck in finding him. I have matters to attend to elsewhere" She replied with a small smile, giving him a curtsey bow, light and simple. and walking off deeper into the castle. She was off to lay her demands on the help within so that they made everything up proper. Everything needed to be perfect, or else this could easily make things worse than they already had been. As much as she enjoyed the company of a familiar face, Adrick was a worrisome face. He was not one to be wise with his words or to hold his tongue and as he is from Rhodoks he may prove counter-productive in her efforts. She would have to talk to him later. Negotiations could easily be turned into hostilities and it was her job to stop that. She was nervous and terrified, but not a soul could tell.</s>

<|description|>MillAgros-TR-17 Hyouka Appearance:Actual facial appearance and overall body-type: General armored 'look', emphasis on the chunky leg armor, and minus the floaty bits: Actual mecha she is based off of: A Chibi version of how she would sort of look: Combat Role: Heavy Artillery Data Center: Bladine - South Equipment & Gear:Total Slots: 12 * Heavy Particle Beam Bazooka (Handheld)- Slot 1 * Heavy Particle Beam Ammo - Slot 3 * 2X Dual Medium Beam Cannon (Shoulder-mounted) - (Slot 1 each) Total Slot 2 * 2X Medium Beam Cannon Ammo - (Slot 1 each) Total Slot 2 * MetalloCeramic Armor - Slot 2 * Beam-Dampener Forcefield - Slot 2 Personality:Hyouka is an enjoyer of life, who doesn't take her sentience and rights for granted, and is grateful to the champions of the past who secured peace between man and machine. She revels in her human appearance, but recognizes that not all robots had the same human-like upbringing that she had. Hyouka is nurturing and likes to see everyone getting along, desiring that bonds between individuals remain strong in these trying times. Despite behaving in a goofy manner in social settings, Hyouka can be surprisingly intelligent and tactical in combat, preferring to analyze and approach a situation from a safe distance, and surgically annihilating high-priority targets. Background:Hyouka's 'parents', who were descended from the MillAgros Company's line of robot tractors, migrated to Bladine to help with the reconstruction efforts, particularly in revitalizing the damaged food infrastructure. Having more than earned their keep, Hyouka's parents invested in creating a child who could be as human-like as possible so that she could enjoy all the benefits of fitting in perfectly with human society. Hyouka went through her early life facing little to no prejudice, and helped alleviate any ill-feelings any of her more ignorant human friends might have had towards robots, thus smoothing over human-robot relations. Though she enjoyed a very peaceful civilian life away from danger, Hyouka, who had always admired the Knightly Orders, felt she could do more by contributing to the war effort. She opted to outfit herself with hardpoints, allowing her to don mechanical armor, not unlike a knight, but more deeply integrated than any human-machine interface could be, and choosing to handle dangerous, high-damage weaponry and to be come a high-priority target herself, so that he human counterparts hopefully wouldn't have to. The hangar doors opened out into an asteroid field. Hefting her cannon, Hyouka kicked off into space using her big, clunky, armored legs. Though her armor was fully integrated into her cybernetics, becoming less equipment and more an extension of her body, there was still some sluggishness, owing to the sheer weight of the parts. She double checked that her pain receptors had been switched to 'damage receptor' mode, so that any harm she received would register as 'damage' instead of as 'pain', allowing her to register threats without resorting to panicked reflex. She mentally thanked her parents for making her so lifelike and able to experience things as humans did, but for combat, it was easier to just be a machine sometimes. Hyouka noticed a drift in her rotation, and activated her thrusters to correct for the slight deviance. This was a good training exercise to get her used to space maneuvering and inertia of her weapons and armor. Heading deeper into the asteroid field, Hyouka had reached a safe distance from the troop transport. Warming up her cannons, text and diagrams from Hyouka's heads-up display flashed across her eyes, letting her know the status of her equipment and picking out potential targets. The dual beam cannons mounted over her shoulders extended and swiveled around like turrets, pointing at the various asteroids that floated about. Devastating magenta beams flashed out from her shoulders, striking the rocks forcefully, leaving deep, glowing impressions. Now to try the big one. Hyouka lifted the heavy particle beam cannon to her chest and connected its butt to the energy core mounted on her chest. She felt the click as the weapon attached to her, and could feel the energy draining into the gun as it began whirring to life and opening up like the jaws of a wolf. Making sure to point away from the transport, Hyouka let loose a powerful stream of energy that plowed through the asteroids. Hyouka had to fire her thrusters slightly to prevent from being pushed back by the surge of power lighting up space in front of her. A weapon like this might be too dangerous for a human combatant to handle, which was why she had chosen it. Instead of just leaving a molten imprint, the asteroids hit by the particle beam were superheated to the point of rupture. Clouds of searing pebbles and sand flew in all directions, some were stopped when they hit Hyouka's defense field, while others that managed to make it past the energy shield harmlessly impinged off her thick armor. Despite knowing that war was not a game, Hyouka couldn't help but feel somewhat exhilarated at wielding so much destructive power, and couldn't keep a smile from appearing on her face. As her weapons warmed down, Hyouka turned around and headed back towards to transport.</s> <|message|>STP3-CHMR Beta IV "VILKAS" This situation... Vilkas was one to keep things simple and logical, emotional behaviour was seen to her as often foreign, but, this once, she found herself gritting her teeth ever so slightly. It brought back bad memories, though even worse than those memories was the realization she only had learned they were bad not too long ago. One just doesn't know how dark things really are until they see a glimpse of light. In such a situation she was caught by surprise by the sudden approach of her superior, her tail tensing up. "Ah! Ma'am! Yes, I am VILKAS." she said in a startled tone, a rare one for her, it took her a moment for her typical behaviour to return. "Not quite, it seems this mission won't deviate from my typical use in battles, outside of the change to the closed space the illegal laboratory will provide. Well... I do wonder a bit about the nature of these labs..." she vacillated for a moment. "No, I am sorry for my behaviour, it is not my place to wonder about non-vital aspects of the mission. I am ready for deployment." Now that she was done talking, she really took a moment to observe her superior's outfit. Vilkas really didn't understand fashion, it seemed, and the people who cared about clothing really seemed to have such unusual choices. For the robot who walked with her frame exposed, fancy jackets and hats were really alien, shark themed or not.</s> <|message|>MillAgros-TR-17 Hyouka MillAgros-TR-17 Hyouka Hyouka saluted upon meeting Hospitaller Gordian and listened to his instructions. Though she had wanted to work alongside the Knights, her intended foes were the alien swarm, rather than other robots. Still, orders were orders, and if piracy ravaged the planet, then they wouldn't be prepared if and when the Swarm returned. When Gordian finished up the briefing, Hyouka replied, "Absolutely, sir!" and turned her attention to the other robot. "Pleasure to meet you Camille." Hyouka extended a machine-gauntleted hand to shake. "I can teach you all about humans," Hyouka boasted, considering herself uniquely suited to such a task thanks to her particular upbringing.</s> <|message|>MillAgros-TR-17 Hyouka ~ @Stern Algorithm ~ Camille was rather taken aback by your display of confidence. However, she did take your hand to shake. "O-Okay." She shyly responded in a cute, little voice. You get a feeling that Camille was more than just unused to humans. ------ The caravan soon set off into the remote wilderness of Bladine. Among the planets of the Ark Sector, Bladine resembled Earth the most thanks to its smooth terraformation. The planet harbored a variety of temperatures, allowing all sorts of biomes to exist in the planet. From verdant forests to lush jungles, from wide deserts to arctic poles. All of this unclaimed land was once settled before, during the First Expansion, but then the Swarm arrived and the rest was history. Despite your offer to teach Camille about humans, she was quiet during the trip and asked no questions. Some of the accompanying Knights attempted to start a conversation with her but all that was yielded was smalltalk that ended as soon as it began. Right now, Camille was above the personnel carrier that you, her and a few Knights rode on. The transport was a boxy vehicle that traveled in tank treads with a single Arachnid Turret above for defense. Camille was currently above the carrier, watching the scenery of rolling grassy hills and the high mountain ranges in the horizon. You were told to check up on the shy robot and upon joining her, she was surprisingly the first to speak. It appeared she has finally mustered up the courage. "Miss Hyouka, right? You told me back in Sanginum that you can teach me about humans, right?" "How did you come to know so much about humans? Did you grow up with them? Did you have human parents? Err, I mean raised by humans?" --- ~ @CelesteEste ~ The woman let out a small chuckle. "I was told that you could be a bit rigid but come on, relax! You're allowed to know these things." She patted you in the back. A pat that felt more like a hard slap. "Anyway, all we got from the reports are that these scientists have ran off with some samples from Swarm aliens. It appears they've been doing this for quite a while now since they have secured labs and all." "But that's all about to change, isn't it Vilkas? Hahahaha!" Pointing her thumb at herself, she continued. "Also, you can call me Captain Cura. My full name's kind of weird. Pleasure meeting you!" ------ You and the strike force boarded some VTOL aircraft that took the force as close to the labs as possible. Seeing through the windows of the flying vehicle, you see the usual landscapes of Dostrex. Lifeless and scorched rocky terrain with the occasional river of lava from a leaking volcano or pit of molten rock. Upon disembarking from the aircraft, the searing temperatures of the planet quickly hit you. Fortunately, you and the strike force were robots and your mechanical bodies were built to withstand such scorching heat. At least for a while, lingering in these temperatures would soon bring damage to the circuitry and the smaller parts within several hours. And that's assuming you do not stray too close to any sources of lava. The strike force quickly found the labs, having made no effort to conceal themselves. The structures were mostly circular and white-colored, connected to each other through wide tunnels and tubes. The buildings were built on top of a narrow gorge with a river of lava a couple of kilometers below. The labs were well-lit with visible searchlights and camera monitors, powered by geothermal energy from the lava's heat. "Mmm, we're not really equipped to sneak our way in. We'll have to force our way in but that'll alert the scientists and allow them to escape." Cura lit up when she came up with a plan. "Aha! We can have half the strike force come knocking on the front door and distract the entire lab, then have the other half strike where the scientists are. They can also come up from behind for a rear attack should the lab defenses prove too tough." "So where will you be, Vilkas?" Captain Cura asked. "Gonna join me at the frontlines or directly for the scientists?"</s> <|message|>STP3-CHMR Beta IV "VILKAS" "Rigid?" ironically, the comment would made Vilkas stiffer, as if her alloy had just lost all of its malleability, was she weird? Even a fellow robot was saying she needed to relax, and it wasn't only her as well. The change of topic did more to relax her than the call for her to ease up. "Swarm aliens? What could one even do with those that hasn't been done already. I can see why they became a priority target in comparison to the average rogue scientist. And for sure! We won't allow it." she tried to have some enthusiasm, as she had seen other robots show, but Cura did drown her with her overbearing confidence. "I...I-it's a pleasure to meet you too, Captain Cura...!" she would say in a shy manner. ----- Dostrex was Dostrex, it never changed. few places were beautiful on this planet's surface, and even then, it was a type of beauty you had to learn to enjoy. On the other side it did provide absurd amounts of materials and geothermal power, one of the two factors that made it so friendly to long term illegal bases. Vilkas would have been in the scouting group to search for the lab, but the operation barely lasted, the lab barely bothered to hide itself, Vilkas assumed it was because so few ships ever came to this accursed area. "Captain, my calculations make me believe that I will be better suited to go directly for the scientist. My superior speed is suited for this type of mission and if I do not superheat my tail it is actually useful for the non-lethal take down of target. Furthermore, with this environment, I believe they will try to escape through tunnels or vehicles, even the most armoured of robots can't survive the heat for long, so I will make sure to inform you if I spot their escape method."</s>

<|message|>MillAgros-TR-17 Hyouka Hyouka smiled to see Camille opening up. "Actually, my parents are robots; big, agricultural tractors. Their model number is actually my surname. But when robots were granted to same rights and privileges as humans, my parents believed that coexistence was something that needed to be nurtured; it wasn't something that was just going to happen overnight. So they built me to look as human as possible, and made sure that I grew up around humans. But for the most part, humans and robots are pretty similar. Sure, they're organic and need to eat and sleep and such, but they based our sentience on their own, so we have similar thought patterns...emotions." Hyouka pondered on the possibility that robotic minds would deviate from human minds over time, especially if robots transcended biological issues such as mortality. Technically they already did with technologies like the memory banks, but even those had limits. Or the possibility of a single, networked collective consciousness, what to a biological would be the impossible to achieve telepathic hive-mind, but to a machine entirely possible. Hyouka hoped that all robots were wired to have as much a desire for individuality as humans that such a horror never came to pass. "I am curious though, is your becoming accustomed to humans mission-critical? Are you...mission-critical?" Hyouka asked, somewhat teasingly, wondering if Camille held a greater importance to this mission than had been revealed. Perhaps this escort mission was not merely to escort supplies.</s>

<|description|>Cordelia Whittaker The Mundane Age: 18. Sanctum City: Lucentum, The center-most city of Juno Description: Cordelia is a girl of fair complexion with long light blue hair and discerning green eyes. She walks with a trained eloquence only those who have been formally taught etiquette can accomplish and carries herself with a humble confidence. Her fairly muscular figure strikes an impressive silhouette, though her footfalls are those of a trained dancer. Cordelia's time as a butler has left her fashion sense severely underdeveloped. Cordelia's strongest attempt at casual-wear still revolves around a black suit and skirt with a white dress shirt underneath. While she has attempted to make foray's into more typical streetwear, she hasn't really figured it out just yet. Personality: Through Cordelia's time as a butler, she was not paid for personality. However the few quirks she has established were not meeting eye contact, finishing a job once it was begun, and to always tastefully laugh when told a joke. Three hearty chuckles were typically sufficient. She was trained in etiquette, and how to hold a conversation properly and is in no ways shy. Rather, she does not commonly offer opinion unless it is asked for her, and still has a bad habit of offering her services to those who are uniformly equal to or below her station. That being said, should you manage to eek an opinion from the girl she'd tell you that she was always fond of music. Simple pieces involving a single player presenting their skill, typically, nothing too gauche. Cordelia is still in the process of understanding herself, for much of her life shew was told that the others around her were of far more importance than herself. Not necessarily in a way that felt demeaning, but it would not serve her well to be considering how she felt while trying to clean, cook, nor speak with one of her masters. In a battle, Cordelia is as exacting as she must be. She will deliver swift punishment to any Nox, without hesitation. She is quite an adept team player, and understands the importance of camaraderie. While she many never be one to begin revelry, she certainly won't end it. Background: Coredlia's tale was one of many initially. Orphaned at a young indeterminate age, she was taken in by a family with a legacy in order to serve, and survive. She had the good fortune of finding gainful employment as a butler. There she worked during the days and studied during the nights, taught by other butlers before her, she learned grace and decorum in servitude. She excelled in her academic and historical tutelage, quickly surpassing her pittance of an instructor and teaching herself through the books she was given access to. Cordelia's responsibilities were primarily taking care of her younger masters, keeping the company, aiding with their hobbies and the like. She was responsible for keeping them safe as well, and while it was not a dangerous life they lead, she was prepared for anything. She was taught fundamentals of martial arts that had been passed down for years from before the world had turned to ruin, or so she was told. She was taught how to disarm an unruly guest of a weapon, and she was taught how to handle them. Cordelia would've been an asset for years to come had she not tested magically positive. She wasn't really supposed to be tested in the first place. She was discovered to have circumvented testing due to her status as an orphan, and while the family was initially hesitant to allow it, it was made clear that decision was not theirs. Once discovered that she was positive, Cordelia was spirited away and taken to become an Ars Magi. The Magical Armgaus Name: Stark Stygian Diamond Gladius: Pridwen is a massive greatsword nearly as large as Cordelia herself. Its front of entirely stained glass through which Cordelia can utilize her abilites and shield herself and others. She can always displace objects by translocating them through her blade. In this way, she can cut through almost anything, from fire, to concrete. Parma: When transformed, Cordelia eyes shift from their usual pale verdant to a yellowish glow while her hair lightens somewhat. Her outfit is a white and blue ensemble with long billowing sleeves and crystalline adornments scattered around the outfit. Elementum: Glass Elementum Abilities: Cordelia can create a shattered glass mirror in any space around her. Outside of her abilities it feels and looks like a glass mirror although there is no frame around it and it perfectly reflects its surroundings. Cordelia can utilize this glass or any other in order to absorb a blow and redirect it from any other fractal or reflection. All glass around her is essentially a portal form which she can redirect anything, including her teammates, herself or an incoming assault. Cordelia may also manipulate glass in order to serve a purpose, for example, creating wings made of broken glass in order to fly. Or turning broken glass into steps for her or another to walk on. Cordelia's fighting style attempts to exert complete control over the battlefield, though her capabilities are obviously limited by the amount of glass in the area. In a city-scape with buildings and shattered glass everywhere, Cordelia is at her strongest. But in a forest, field or any other natural area she is limited to her blade and her shattered glass mirror she can create.</s> <|message|>Penny Grenoble --- "So, Dima," Penny continues, trying not so much dance as wobble around in one place. "Where're you from? What's your home like, and do you miss it? What do they teach you at the Academy, and do you like it there? "Going back to what you said about being an Ars Magi... I'd be lying if the shows didn't help me make up my mind. So far, it's been a bit routine, but there have been... interesting tests. Being an Ars Magi can be pretty exhilarating, at least to me. It's like... I dunno, I feel like I can just cut loose, do things nobody else can, really take it to the limit. The funny thing is, I'm not even an adrenaline junkie, or at least I wasn't before I got here. I just... wanted to help protect the people and things I care for..."</s> <|message|>Nicole Cognoscenti --- Nicole was a little flummoxed by Cordelia's dancing at first. She'd always been fantastic on her feet, sure, but her expertise in that area came from years of floundering in mosh pits or bouncing up and down, working up a sweat beneath the disorienting strobes of Hasta's club scene. They were different beasts than something as elegant as this waltz, and girls like their new teammate weren't usually the kind of guys or girls Nicole was pressed up against in the writhing throngs of partiers at home. The social aspects of this whole affair - helping all the girls look their fashionable, neomilitaristic best, helping them with what to say to mingle, maybe some winks at the fellas and some compliments for the girls - she could nail. But like at a club, there was always the anxiety that she could roll an ankle and completely eat shit while trying to look sophisticated. Cordelia's whispering might have gone a long way in that regard, but she felt the noble-born girl taking the lead in their dance and decided to cede control to her for the first phase of their dance. Her words made Nicole think of Astrelle again with a twinge - it was hard to believe that her roommate had disappeared in the night the way she had, or been reassigned away from them. Had her family pulled some strings at her own insistence to get her pulled out? Was that even possible at this point? Had she struck someone a little too closely for comfort with her conspiratorial mindset? "But that won't happen with me. I'm here to stay. Please count on me." "Ha." The storm cloud over Nicole's head broke, and the redhead grinned impishly at the new girl's oath of loyalty. "Alright, roomie. I've got your back, you got mine. Score." The waltz brought them closer together; she felt the gems inset in their navels touch like the tines of forks, sending a tingle through her body that sent her teeth burrowing into her lip. "Would you like to try taking the lead, darling?" Nicole laughed aloud and decided to give the second phase of their dance a whirl; thankfully, the song was a bit livelier, and as with many casual applications Nicole found herself more graceful and fearless when performing precise movements. It was as though she was now permanently in her element, fleet-footed and incapable of falling. It felt fantastic. After a while, even waltzing did too. She was about to ask Cordelia if she was into a drink when someone tapped her new teammate on the shoulder and offered to take her - Nicole Cognoscenti, perennially friendzoned just a month ago - off Cordelia's hands. She looked the girl offering to trade out Cordelia's place in their waltz - exotic-looking, with eyes that twinkled and hair that drank in the light around them. Nicole looked over to her own partner and felt her heart lurch slightly at his appearance - golden-skinned, amber-eyed, serious and surly, so like her own childhood best friend she had seen off with a knuckle touch. For a second she was tempted to run over to him and double-check it wasn't him in disguise, trying to fuck with her a little; she wanted to quiz him about weapons, music, or mocking passers-by based on their appearance, all favorite pastimes of his. She remembered the last time she had seen him, in the soft shadows, hazy lights, and pouring rain at the top of the White Tower. Jericho's hair had been plastered over his face, the color of dark chocolate with midnight streaks, and a single streak of crimson that he so carefully and regularly dyed. He chewed on the soaking-wet ends as he wished her goodbye. She searched this cadet's hair; there was not a single trace of red. She felt bad for sizing him up like a replacement puppy. He was handsome, incredibly so, but he wasn't quite material for bumping fists in the courtyard. She giggled, both out of amusement that she was being so heavily courted and from imagining how her torch song would be reacting to her attitude right now. Goddamn it, Nicole. All the girls in the world who are capable of saving it, and the gods pick the one that thinks every boy from Osca looks alike. You're a danger to yourself and humanity in this shape. If I could go back in time ten years I would throw you from the monkey bars and save us all. Ohhhh, yeah, she could hear him loud as day. That probably just proved her subconscious point - which meant it was worth taking under advisory. She grinned at the girl so gallantly offering to take her off Cordelia's hands, and outstretched her own to the almond-eyed cadet. "I'd love to, babe," she said amiably, with a similar twinkle to her own partner's in her eye. "Nicole Cognoscenti - Hasta Vice."</s>

<|message|>Cordelia Whittaker As Nicole led Cordelia through a jauntier passage, the azure haired girl lost herself for a moment in their dance. He teeth raked the inside of her bottom lip as her new roommate effortlessly glided along the dance floor. The act made Cordelia yearn to discover how Nicole moved on the battlefield as well. They neared towards the end of the song, both panting, holding a pose as the band performed their final resounding notes and those who were not dancing clapped for the band and the dancers left on the floor. Cordelia's chest heaved as an innocuous smile hung on her lips, her eyes never leaving Nicole's. It may've been something of an over-the-top gesture. But Cordelia had learned early to take pride in every action she performed. Whether it was how she dressed herself in the morning, or dancing in front of a crowd. You had your pride, she had been told once, or you had nothing. Before long, however two new figures made their presences known. Hairs raised on the nape of Cordelia's neck as she felt a light touch trickle up her shoulder. The girl was taller than Cordelia, with eyes like almonds and a flowing black river of hair that ended pointedly near her upper back. She clearly spoke to Cordelia, but a buzzing sensation left from Nicole's and this girl's touch filled her senses to the brim, keeping the words from her. Cordelia looked down at his hand he held out, as if he was offering pomegranate seeds. Cordelia looked back at Nicole, who seemed to be gracefully accepting the offer of a long-haired, scarred boy opposite Cordelia's would-be dance partner. His dark eyes weren't dissimilar from the girl's, in fact, they could've been twins save for a few key differences. Nicole dexterously spun around Coredelia, taking the hand of the girl before Cordelia could, but neither party seemed to mind much at all. The olive-skinned gentleman held his hand out to her all the same. Cordelia nodded chastely and took the boy's hand gingerly in her own. Her demure attitude, however, belied her current thought process. The hair on her neck stayed raised, something felt odd about this. She wasn't sure what, they certainly appeared to be human and not some voidsent abomination. Cordelia thought back to a hunting lesson she was partial to once morning at the estate at which she had been raised and worked her entire life. Would you prefer to hunt a tiger, or a wolf? Of course, each of the student's provided educated answers as to why a wolf was the safer prey, a much lighter beast who relied on a pack to successfully hunt for itself. The instructor had nodded sagely, before explaining that each student was right in a classroom, but wrong in the field of a hunt. A tiger, as powerful as it was, could be backed into a corner, he explained. It fought alone, so it died alone. But to hunt a wolf was to constantly second guess yourself, wondering if others were behind you. "Are you okay?" the boy asked Cordelia. The ars magi stifled her visage's desire to contort in surprise and instead forced a curt smile. "I'm excellent," she responded. She let herself be pulled into her partner's embrace, tightening the distance between the both of them and allowing her hands to find his upperback, subtly feeling for a weapon the boy may've hidden on him. "Please, lead the way."</s>