[System]
SEX: male
AGE: 44 (middle aged)
HOMELAND: Republic of Carise
BACKGROUND: Criminal

TRAITS:
Brawny - Boran is muscular and possesses considerable physical strength
Cool headed - Boran is not easily fazed even in the face of danger
Open minded - Boran is always willing to consider new ideas and concepts without being prejudiced
Illegal dealings (Criminal) - establishing connections and doing business on the underground market (which can be less expensive and have more exotic stock) is no problem for Boran

FLAWS:
Low stamina - due to his age and general physical condition, Boran tires out easily
Crude - not the politest person

PROFICIENCIES: 16+1

EXPERTISE
History I (1pt)
Folklore I (1pt)

SKILLS
Skulduggery II (3pts)
Appraisal I (1pt)

SOCIAL
Deceit II (3pts)

Weapons
Axes II (3pts)
Hand-to-hand II (3pt)
Shields I (1pt)
Maces I (1pt)

PERSONALITY: While not the most talkative type, Boran does like good company. However, he is not the best one out there himself. On one hand, he can be coarse and blunt with a weird sense of humor most people "just don't get". On the other, he is somewhat aloof, prone to letting his mind wander off at random moments. His peculiarities do not stem from ill intent, but rather from an overarching carefree demeanor he has adopted following his tumultuous past life. Be it in times of peace or peril; if he is alone or with others, Boran is in "fixed gear", which can be seen both as a weakness - in terms of thoughtlessness and recklessness - but also a strength by keeping a level head in any situation. When it comes to matters of his person, Boran is an open type who doesn't fear tearing down his walls. He has done enough self-contemplation to be confident. There is an air of confidence, even slight sophistication in him, hinting at an upbringing not usual for a common man.

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: Boran is a true mixed-blood. Standing at just above 180cm/6ft, with broad shoulders, square jaw and strong nose, he is a rather masculine man. He has medium length, wavy black hair, thick eyebrows and a rough stubble, but strangely pale skin.

EQUIPMENT:
* a combat knife in a sheath and a buckler on his hip, the buckler has an adjustable grip so it can be slid up to his forearm, freeing his hand
* an axe with a blunt butt/poll that can be strapped on his back for longer travels, for quicker access there is a noose on his hip. Boran has enough strength to wield it one-handed for some time, but it is cumbersome to do so and it's meant for two handed use.
* a small backpack that contains some food, a flask for water, another one for some booze, a sharpening kit and usually a random book to read.
* Black/brown gambeson armor, padded greaves and bracers, which are in good condition. A tiny bedroll, just enough to fit him.

HISTORY: As the only child of a wealthy businessman in Carise, Boran could enjoy luxuries that most people in the known world could not. At the same time, his freedom was also quite a bit more restricted. Taught by a private tutor, together with a small group of other privileged children, he studied a wide range of subjects - from mathematics and economy to etiquette and philosophy. What time was left over from studying was spent on training in the arts of combat. And what tiny amount was left even from that was mostly spent with his father, whether it be mentoring sessions about the business or formal meetings, dinners and gatherings with his associates. Boran didn't mind that he didn't have a normal childhood, because he was good at what he did. Too good. Brighter and more physically capable than his peers, Boran started developing a superiority complex that would bite him back in the future.

By the time he reached teenage years, it was already obvious that his father's business wasn't exactly legal. More precisely, he ran one of a dozen smuggling rings inside an organized crime family's trading company. For Boran, this was an opportunity. In his early 20s, Boran had integrated well into the business, solidifying his position as a good partner and future successor to his father; even gathering a small band of underlings of his own. Yet he remained a subordinate, an inferior. Driven by his ambition, overrated abilities and misplaced moral values, he tried to aggressively take more control inside the company. This did not sit well with his superiors - including his father-, who saw his crude methods and lack of loyalty as a direct act of defiance rather than any show of ability. Humiliated, Boran was allowed to escape Carise.

He vowed to get his vengeance as he sailed towards Abagon. Over the years he led and was part of many different bands of criminals - from the more sophisticated subtle types to even the lowliest thugs - hoping to build an empire of his own to one day get back at the people who had done him wrong. None of it came to fruition. With the war looming over Abagon as well, Boran eventually found himself in Beldemar. Years had passed, his youthful, reckless drive had been smothered by constant failures. Looking for some straightforward coin, Boran, nearing his fortieth birthday, signed up as a mercenary. Free from his futile pursuits and perhaps due to age, he found time to contemplate and find solace in a simpler life devoid of unnecessary stress. After all, a lot of time had passed and the people he once hated are already most likely dead.

[User]
Flint paused, looking at the candles. That wasn't a common sight. The only thing was, was this before or after some kind of misfortune? His hackles on end, he walked in, briefly taking note of the bell above the door.

"Hello?" he called, glancing around at the room.

[Assistant]
After stepping outside and hearing Flint's words of acknowledgement, Boran gestured for him to lead the way.

The pair walked in silence, and Boran in particular seemed to be lost in thought, though he kept an eye out for anything suspicious. A city this size never truly slept and there were unpredictable wanderers on every corner. As they were nearing the market district, Boran grabbed a piece of paper and a sharp stick of charcoal from his coat pocket and started scribbling words on it. He darted off towards an inconspicuous, plain looking building just at the edge of the market, slipped the note through a slit in the door and was back with Flint in seconds. Before the latter could inquire, Boran explained: "Just made a little order."

The jewelers place seemed decent enough. After all, anything less than decent would have likely been unable to process the kind of exchange the party was in need of. Nevertheless, Boran kept himself in high alert when Flint went in in search of the owner.

[User]
"Hello?" Flint called. There wasn't an immediate response, though the sound of wood scraping against wood could be heard. A quick look about the place showed it was comfortable and well-decorated, if a bit small. There were shelves standing n the floor, displaying an array of objects both strange and mundane. It appeared to be some sort of second hand store, but a fine one. Most of the goods were of the more expensive variety, such as fine clothes, antique furniture, lockets, jewelry boxes, exotic cloth from the east, old tomes, bones from long-deceased monsters... Everything was well-polished, small lanterns lit the room, and it was arrayed in such a way that everything was fetching to the eye. It wasn't humble, no; it was someone taking the best advantage of the small space they had offered to them. The door that led to the back of the building was ajar.

It became clear after a moment that someone was watching them. Boran noticed first, then Flint. To the right stood a tall, armored Caernling, a bearded warrior clad in scale armor with a vicious looking spiked mace resting at his hip. Apparently that was how the goods were kept safe.

"Forgive my tardiness," came a voice with a Westerling accent. They were interwoven with soft clicks upon the floor. "I would have answered sooner, but as they say in soldierly vernacular, my eyes were on the target." At that moment, the door to the back was pulled open, and a Westerling came in. He was a middle-aged man clutching a cane with a dragon-shaped head, a coal-skinned gentleman wearing black-and-gold fineries and old spectacles. His beard was ash-colored, and he wore a sad but steady smile.

"How can I help you?" he asked.

[Assistant]
Lothair pointed at the fleeing stalker "He's the one who made the mess! That bloody pickpocket!" He urgently blathered trying to continue the pursuit. He figured that if he could get the angry man to help them catch the suspect, then things would be a lot easier since the angry man was a native after all... he probably knew these streets and alleys like the back of his hand. Regardless, Lothair wanted to continue the pursuit regardless of what the angry man thought. He looked over at Riley to see what she had in mind...

When they were spotted Riley jumped into action. While Lothair had turned to talk to the angered shopkeep she drew her crossbow and pulled a bolt from her cloak, not wanting to chance the stranger catching her or Lothair with whatever he had on him if they ran him down. She loaded the bolt and quickly dropped to a knee to take aim, going for the runners legs, well preferably the legs, honestly as long as the hit wasn't lethal...by the time Lothair had turned back around he would hear the twang of her loosing the bolt.

The bolt whizzed by the corner of Lothair's eye as he turned. He turned to look at Riley, with her crossbow aimed at the fleeing man. He was dumbfounded... just as he was trying to convince this man that the fleeing perpetrator was the guy he wanted to chase... here she was about to potentially kill this poor sod. If he wasn't so involved, his hand would have swiftly found its place on top of his face... in fact he was almost tempted as he didn't want to look at what happened next. However, it was clear that things were about to get dangerous. Thus, he had a hand rest on the pommel of his sword, ready to draw it in case a fight broke out.

[User]
Flint took in the shop with a sweeping glance. It fit the bill of what they were looking for. And the man seemed respectable; if a little melancholic.

"How can I help you?"

Flint looked the man up and down briefly. "Ghilas, I presume? Well, to put it simply, we're looking to sell. My companion and I, plus two others, have just been hired by the Lord Guthbert. I don't care for the name, though I imagine you know it."

He took an emerald from his coin bag, watching the man's face for some reaction. "He gave us these as a down payment. I was wondering if we could convince you to buy some of them."

[Assistant]
Although Boran was fairly certain there would be no trouble at the shop, he nevertheless kept an eye on the guard. He let Flint do the talking, took a quick peek a the shopkeeper - an elegant fellow - then proceeded to survey the room. Causing a ruckus in such a confined space would inevitably lead to considerable damage so the armored figure's first and foremost job was probably that of intimidation: the scaly armor and spiky mace neatly enforced the idea.

He positioned himself near the entrance, keeping a relaxed yet prepared pose. He didn't try to be sneaky about it, either. With his neck stretched and hands neatly folded in front of him, he himself looked like a security guard for Flint.


[System]
"Hey, you wouldn't have seen any flower around here that has a yellow petal, would ya? I need one for, uh...'flavoring'."

"Charlotte LaChance. Now, if you don't need anything I really should be watching this beaker before it explodes."
"Nineteen."
Age:
19

Race:
Human

Appearance:
Charlotte stands around five foot six. A pale complexion with messy, somewhat unkempt dark brown hair and cold blue eyes adorn her face. She has a slender frame, with no obvious muscles as she's not entirely one for physical activity, often time spending her days reading or practicing her chosen craft. She wears comfortable clothes that look like one might expect of someone born from high-society. Short pants, held up by a belt with a golden buckle, adorned with various pouches to carry items. Comfortable shoes with long, knee-high socks. Over her upper body, she wears a thick cloak with a hood, designed mostly to protect the wearer from the cold. Rarely takes it off, even in the warmer lands she finds herself in.

Personality:
Insatiable curiosity, confident, stubborn, a bit on the childish side, doesn't like not getting her way, and has a bit of a one-track mind. As such her alchemy can sometimes suffer a bit as a result. Though indeed, she is talented, and if she doesn't let her one-track mind focus on something else after she starts something, she'd be fairly successful. She prefers to spend time outdoors with her plants and other alchemy reagents than in the company of people.

She tends to come off as rather serious and no-nonsense, and sometimes a sarcastic grump. Often time she wears a serious expression when people first meet her, though its only because she tends to have a one-track mind about things, and really doesn't like being interrupted. She's often thinking about various things and what properties plants might have.

That said, she is fairly friendly to most, and isn't hostile by any means. Just don't interrupt her work unless you have a really good reason. Aside from this, she's fairly intelligent and knows about a great deal many scholarly subjects. Mostly dealing with Magic and Alchemical pursuits, but she's read a great many number of books so she might surprise someone with her knowledge every now and then about something.

"DAMN YOUR EYES DON'T TOUCH THAT BEAKER-Argh, this is sensitive equipment!"

Abilities:
Aside from the obviously impressive physical and mental abilities that humans possess, Charlotte is adept at potion brewing. Meaning, alchemy and making useful concoctions out of herbs, remedies, antidotes and other items found in the natural world. She's pretty much a savant when it comes to everything relating to it. Add that to some beginner interest in Botany, she could probably make quite the living selling and brewing potions. That said, she is still fairly young and has a lot of room for improvement in the field.

A neat little list:
-Fairly intelligent
-Knows her way around plants and Biology.
-Cold tends to not bother her so much, since her home country was notoriously cold.
-Not so good with animals, unfortunately. They tend to like using her as a chewtoy.
-Physically speaking, she's a wet noodle strength wise. Fairly average stamina, though due to her fairly active lifestyle.

She has heard tells of old alchemists being able to directly influence the world through direct means. Directly changing iron into gold, and even manipulating the earth to do ones bidding. She intends to find the truth of these matters, and learn fiction from reality.

History:
Born in Astril, Charlotte has been brought up around science, logic, reason, and even the odd magical related things most of her life. Aside from that, its not particularly interesting. While she herself wasn't born into the magic-using citadel of Astril, and was instead brought up in a small farming community near the border, she has always held an interest in magic, alchemy, and scholarly pursuits herself. So in between farming duties and helping her parents run the farm, she studied all sorts of books. Ones about history, magic, and otherwise.

When she was fourteen, she was accepted into Astril itself as a student. And as confident as she was, she was sorely outclassed by a lot of the students there who had been training formally since their birth. She spent quite a few years there struggling to keep up with the other students, and quickly found herself as a bit of a loner and outcast among her peers. Not that she particularly minded, she'd rather have her books and studies anyways. Eventually she was labeled a bit of an eccentric.

It was when she was nineteen, she had to make a choice. So she left Astril and set off on her own, intent on finding her lives work. She doesn't like talking about the events that transpired leading up to that event, but she will say she killed about five scholars and blew up a lab.

Other:
-Can be somewhat socially awkward at times, and has trouble holding a decent conversation about anything other than alchemy.
-Makes some questionable potions sometimes. You really shouldn't get curious about some of the stuff she makes.
-Don't bring up anything regarding an elixir of life or philosophers stone. You have been warned. If you do, bring ear plugs and make sure you don't have anything to do for the next hour.

[User] Himeko took a step back from Livia's touch. She didn't feel the need to have a human's touch on her wing. There was a chance she'd make her feel disgusted with herself. After, she just listened to the human mage's words. If this wisp found Odette, good. If not, well, they'd figure something else out. For now, she just followed Livia since she SEEMED to know what she was doing.

[Assistant]
"Tsk," Livia frowned playfully, calmly leading Charlotte and Himeko through the graveyard. "Rude, and here I am helping you." She frowned again, following the wisp closely. With any luck it should lead them to Odette, now that she had her...signature of sorts, but it was still rather questionable if she could. Charlote was now glad she didn't get caught plucking a feather. She'd have to remember not to do that or mention it.

The wisp twirled and made a path through the field, leading them on quite the complex path as if it was a drunk sailor of some sort. Charlotte began questioning this things accuracy, until it finally came to a stop near the edge of the graveyard.

Except, no sign of Odette.

"Hmm..." Livia gave a cursory look around. "She's around here."

Unbeknownst to the trio, the tiny purple bow resting immaculately on a tree stump was not in fact, a bow.

"She's probably still hiding." Livia continued.

[User]
"I believe we are helping you..." Himeko muttered, looking around the area. It was a graveyard through and through. She just followed Livia and her little wisp through the winding path of the graveyard until it came to a stop. The Tengu didn't see Odette anywhere. Nowhere visible at least so she was probably hiding. Well, now Livia was saying that Odette was around at least... Now to look for her. Himeko just started to wander around the area. There were a few graves here and there of course, but what caught her eye was the one thing that just seemed out of place. "What's this?"

She looked to a tree stump. While the stump itself wasn't exactly out of place, the thing that seemed to sit on it seemed quite so. "A bow, is it?" With a questioning look on her face, she walked over to the small thing to examine it. "Odette?" She asked, putting a hand on the handle of her katana, ready for anything. "If that is you, reveal yourself. Slowly."

[Assistant]
The purple bow lifted itself from the Tree stump, a decidedly scared Odette phasing through it so her face was showing to the others. She placed her hands on the surface, as if she was shyly looking over the edge of a counter or something as Himeko ordered her to show herself. Charlotte watched carefully from a somewhat safe looking distance, hands ready to fling one of her vials towards the bow if something happened.

"..." Oh no. They found her. What should she do? She couldn't say anything. She was too petrified from nervousness and anxiousness, not to mention the fact she had been ordered not too. Ugh, she was terrified. She was scared. She wanted to die again. She wanted to -

"....!" Argh, her head hurt again. How was it possible for a ghost to get a headache in the first place.

"Odette." Livia approached carefully, the ghost making no movements other than seemingly glowering at the ground with a dark expression painted on her features. "Himeko, get back!" The Tengu would only have seconds to react before a gout of pale blue fire launched itself towards Himeko from Odette's mouth, both intending to harm the Tengu and propel the spirit backwards a little ways from them.

[User] Silly human, thinking a Tengu wouldn't notice before her... Well, not that she knew what a Tengu was. "Five steps too slow." Himeko said, deftly dodging to the side quickly, then closing on the ghostly girl. "Divine Kami, grant me power to touch this spirit." She chanted as she closed. If the Divine could give her power to cut away at spirits, than it should be able to allow her to touch them. And... Success it seemed, as her hand wrapped around the ghost's neck. Not painful... If the ghost could feel pain at least. It was there to restrain her and only that. "My intent is not to hurt, merely receive answers. Cooperate, and perhaps we can help each other." The Tengu said, looking the ghost girl in the eyes. Confidence, is what they translated to her likely. "Nod, speak if you can. Agree and I'll release you."

[Assistant]
"You idiot!" Livia shouted to Himeko as the tengu grabbed Odette by the throat. "Scaring her is only going to make it worse-!" Himeko would only have a few seconds before she'd figure out why. Whatever was happening to Odette, was becoming worse by the second. Black, pulsing veins seemed to snake their way across Odette's body, stopping only when they had claimed her all the way to her chin.

"Cooperate? No no, you want to hurt me...I can't...won't let you..." Odette hadn't spoken much before now, but it was clear that she wasn't in her right state of mind. Her voice had an odd ethereal, unsettling quality to it. Instead of being scared or responding further, her own hand grabbed Himekos, and where her ghostly flesh met the Tengus, it began to burn and a mass of black veins appeared on her arm where contact was made. If Himeko kept holding on to her, something quite bad was likely going to happen.

[User] "Tch." Himeko said as she released her grip on Odette. Anything that burned as such could not be a good thing. "What is wrong with her?" She said, peeking back at Livia for a second before gluing her attention on the ghost girl. Her hand instinctively went to her katana, ready for something to happen. Her touch burned and seemed to corrupt, what would do such a thing?"

[Assistant]
"Wrong? With me? No no." Odette replied, a smile forming on the wights lips. "but trespassers on my land must be dealt with. You think you can escape, no no."

"Urgh." Livia grimaced. "I thought something like this might happen. You'll need to weaken her a bit, Himeko. I can fix this easily." She had enough of an idea what was going on, but she needed to prepare a bit, otherwise she'd end up hurting Odette. Charlotte, was had taken shelter behind a gravestone and was carefully peeking over the edge, giving Himeko an encouraging thumbs up.

"Fix? Nothing needs to be fixed. Yes. Everything is fine. This is my land, I'll do on it what I want." Several blue orbs formed beside her, before their wispy forms turned into more of the same specters as earlier. Before Himeko could do anything more, a blue fireball was tossed at her.

[User] Himeko didn't have to think too hard. She unsheathed her katana and cut the air in front of her, releasing a blast of air that sliced the fireball in half and made it miss her completely. The blade shined as the Tengu ran towards the additional spirits and rendered them non-existant. She was closer to Odette now and held her blade towards the ghost girl. "Now. Let me pose to you a question, girl. Would it that I wished you harm, why would I not cut you down now?" She was prepared for the ghost to do something. She was not nearly that dense.

[Assistant]
"Simple. Because you can't. You can't kill what is already dead...besides," She smirked. "Killing me would mean killing her. And I don't think you can kill your friend, now can you?" The wraith, who was clearly someone other than Odette at the moment cackled. "You don't even know what's going on, do you? Run back home to your mountain, whelp. Your kind has no business here...but you can leave the alchemist and the mage. I'll take them as my playthings."

Livia didn't comment, only exhaled in mild displeasure. Damn, it had gotten this bad, had it? A minor oversight on her part, but something she could deal with.

"Ignore her Himeko. I can fix any damage done to her as long as she's not completely banished."

"Yes yes, everything must be fixed because I'm the bad one. Always me. Never anyone else's fault. Of course. But that's fine. I'll burn you all to ashes just like they burned me." Another fireball was tossed at Himeko, Odette seeming to blink from existence, only to appear several yards away where a few more wraiths appeared.

"Don't worry so much about the Wraiths. You take care of her they'll be gone too!"


[System]
Age: 13
Hometown: Ecruteak City
Appearance (pic preferred):

Starter: Torchic
Bio: Shiranui had developed a fascination with fox-like Pokémon from watching the Kimono Sisters performing during his childhood. His favourite Pokémon are Espeon, Umbreon, Delphox, Zoroark and Ninetales. He is generally kind, but has a low tolerance to those who speak ill of his likes. He had been inspired to go on a Pokémon journey ever since he spotted Ho-oh taking off from the Bell Tower at age 8, later catching it during his journey through Johto along with two of the three Legendary Beasts.

Having experienced the wonders of the Kalos Region, Shiranui had conquered the Kalos League and was added to the local Hall of Fame after defeating their Elite Four as well as the local champion Diantha.

[User] "Glad to be of service," Shiranui replied, "How long is it until your Elite Four battles?"

[Assistant] "I have a week to prep." Liam said. "That is plenty of time to allow them all to train, along with a day for rest." Liam said.

[User] "Good luck," Shiranui responded.

[Assistant] "Thanks." Liam said. Liam than went to do his training prep. During his week of prep, Liam's father arrived. Liam's parents, along with Shiranui and Florence were all invited to sit down to the stage.

[User] After Shiranui got his invitation, he found an import stand that had been set up at the markets and what caught his eye was a Jaw Fossil from Kalos. Shiranui bought the fossil and after a quick detour to Rustboro City thanks to Titania, the fossil was revived and Shiranui now had a Tyrunt with the Sturdy ability. He named his new friend Boukun.

[Assistant]
The long week came to pass.

 "It's time for the first match of Hoenn's Champion League!" Called the Announcer. "Today, Elite Four member Sidney will face off against 'Dragon Master' Liam Coleman, who just a week ago defeated Hoenn's Top Coordinator, Shiranui Tsukiko! It will be a fun six-on-six battle, much like every other battle in the Championship Leauge. Only The challenger, Mr. Coleman will be permitted to substitute Pokémon."
 "Welcome, challenger! I'm Sidney of the Elite Four."
"I like that look you're giving me. I guess you'll give me a good match. That's good! Looking real good! All right! Let's get down to the kind of battle that can happen only here in the Pokémon League!"
 The Ref told the trainers to call out their first Pokémon.
 "Scrafty!" Sidney called.
 "Jiriya!" Liam summoned.

Liam-vs-Sidney
Greninja-1-Scrafty
?-2-?
?-3-?
?-4-?
?-5-?
?-6-?

"Jiriya! Power up Punch!" Liam called.
 "Dragon Claw" Sydney ordered. Crafty ran toward the Greninja with talons stretching out from its hand while Jiriya charged forward with a glowing fist. Both moves connected. Jiriya's attack went up, effectively negating Scrafty's Intimidate.
"Another Power up Punch!" Liam called.
 "Poison Jab!" Sidney ordered. The two moves connected. Jiriya avoiding being poisoned. Scrafty was hit critically.
 "Aerial Ace!" Liam ordered.
 "Crunch!" Sidney ordered. Jiriya delivered a swift jab to Scrafty, who bit down on Jiriya's arm.
 "While it's holding on, Power up Punch!" Liam ordered. Scruffy was hit on the head and KO'd.
 "Scrafty is unable to battle, Jiriya wins!" The official stated.

"Very impressive, I can see why you won the Evergrande Conference, let alone becoming Kalos' Grand Duke" Sidney praised. "But, now let's continue, Shiftree! Go!" Sidney ordered. Liam asked Jiriya if he wanted to continue, to which the Greninja gave a thumbs up.

---

Liam-vs-Sidney
Greninja-1-Scrafty
?-2-Shiftree
?-3-?
?-4-?
?-5-?
?-6-?

"Aerial Ace!" Liam ordered. The priority Flying type move slammed into Shiftree, getting a critical hit.
 "Leaf Blade!" Sidney ordered.
 "Night Slash!" Liam commanded. The two began to use the selected moves to have a sword battle, similar to something you would see in the Star Wars movies. After a few minutes of a standstill, Liam called for a Power up Punch, which surprised Shiftree, and KO'd it. Sidney than sent out Absol, (a Zoroark in disguise)

---

Liam-vs-Sidney
Greninja-1-Scrafty
?-2-Shiftree
?-3-Absol
?-4-?
?-5-?
?-6-?

"Power up Punch!" Liam ordered. The attack hit and sent the Absol soaring into the wall, one shutting it. It than returned to its normal form. Sidney was impressed and sent out a Sharpedo next

---

Liam-vs-Sidney
Greninja-1-Scrafty
?-2-Shiftree
?-3-Zoroark
?-4-Sharpedo
?-5-?
?-6-?

"Aqua Jet!" Sidney commanded.
"Ice Punch!" Liam called. Sharpedo rocketed toward Jiriya while engulfed in water. Jiriya used Ice Punch to try and freeze Sharpedo, which failed. Jiriya was short by Rough Skin. Liam than told Jiriya to use Grass Knot when Sharpedo went in with an Ice Fang. Jiriya was hurt badly by that move. Liam called for a Shadow Sneak, which finished Sharpedo off, and Jiriya was hurt by Rough Skin. Sidney next sent out Mandibuzz Liam recalled Jiriya and sent out Hitmonchan.

---

Liam-vs-Sidney
Greninja-1-Scrafty
Hitmonchan-2-Shiftree
?-3-Zoroark
?-4-Sharpedo
?-5-Mandibuzz
?-6-?

Hitmonchan was ordered to use Thunder Punch. Mandibuzz used Tailwind. Mandibuzz Than used Bone Rush. Hitmonchan was whopped on the back of the head and made momentarily dizzy. Sidney took advantage of Hitmonchan's delirium and used Brave Bird! Hitmonchan was smacked into the wall, KO'd.

"Hitmonchan is unable to battle, Mandibuzz wins." Liam grabbed the next ball, and Jiriya popped back out from his ball instead. "You want to continue Jiriya?" Liam asked.
 "Ninja!" Jiriya confirmed.
 "I'm truly impressed, but don't think that means I've lost yet." Sidney stated. He sent out Absol next.

---

Liam-vs-Sidney
Greninja-1-Scrafty
Hitmonchan-2-Shiftree
?-3-Zoroark
?-4-Sharpedo
?-5-Mandibuzz
?-6-Absol

Sidney stated that Steven gave the Elite something special. Liam than noticed the keystone and Absolves Mega Stone. He Mega Evolved Absol, who used Slash. Jiriya knocked it back with Night Slash.

Liam-vs-Sidney
Greninja-1-Scrafty
Hitmonchan-2-Shiftree
?-3-Zoroark
?-4-Sharpedo
?-5-Mandibuzz
?-6-Absol (Mega)

The long drawn out battle eventually ended with Jiriya falling. Scarlet, finished it off with a single Mystic Fire.

Liam-vs-Sidney
Greninja-1-Scrafty
Hitmonchan-2-Shiftree
Delphox-3-Zoroark
?-4-Sharpedo
?-5-Mandibuzz
?-6-Absol (Mega)
"Well, listen to what this loser has to say. You've got what it takes to go a long way! Go on to the next room and challenge your next battle!"

Liam walked over to his cheering corner, where his parents, Florence, and Shiranui were sitting. Liam had a couple hours to recuperate before his next battle. Liam went and got the healing done. He than went to do a pep talk with his selected six.

[User] Shiranui knew Liam had a good shot at winning his next battle as he had seen Liam use a fair share of Pokémon that were capable of handling Ghost types. He let Numeru out to add to the cheering section.

[Assistant]
"Ahahaha! I'm Phoebe of the Elite Four. I did my training on Mt. Pyre. While I trained, I gained the ability to commune with Ghost-type Pokémon. Yes, the bond I developed with Pokémon is extremely tight. So, come on, just try and see if you can even inflict damage on my Pokémon!"

"Banette!" Phoebe called.
 "Grimm!" Liam called.

Liam-vs-Phoebe
Dusknoir-1-Banette
?-2-?
?-3-?
?-4-?
?-5-?
?-6-?

"Shadow Ball!" Liam ordered.
 "You use Shadow Ball as well." Phoebe ordered. The attacks collided and negated one another.
 "Shadow Claw Phoebe called.
 "Shadow Sneak!" Liam ordered. Banette was hit by the priority STAB move.
 "Shadow Ball!" Phoebe called.
 "Shadow Punch." Liam said. The ghostly fist smacked its target as Grimm was hit by the ball of energy.
 "Toxic!" Phoebe ordered.
 "Shadow Ball!" Liam commanded. Both hit, and Banette was KO'd, replaced by Mismagius.
[br]

Liam-vs-Phoebe
Dusknoir-1-Banette
?-2-Mismagius
?-3-?
?-4-?
?-5-?
?-6-?

(Toxic 1)
"Shdow Ball!" Liam called.
 "Thunderbolt!" Phoebe called. Both attacks landed
(Toxic 2)
 "Finish it with Shadow Ball!" Phoebe called.
 "Destiny Bond, go!" Liam ordered. Grimm tethered the Mismagius to himself right before he was KO'd, thus pulling it down with him.
Liam sent Hitmonchan out and Phoebe called out Driftblim

[br]

Liam-vs-Phoebe
Dusknoir-1-Banette
Hitmonchan-2-Mismagius
?-3-Driftblim
?-4-?
?-5-?
?-6-?

"Ice Punch!" Liam called. The move froze the ghost solid.
 "Now Foresight!" With that,Driftblim lost its immunity to normal and fighting moves.
 "Now, Thunder Punch!" Liam called. The electrified punch shocked the ghost critically, allowing another KO, Aftermath zapped some of Htmonchan's health. Chandelure was sent out next. Liam recalled Hitmonchan and sent Jiriya out.

[br]

Liam-vs-Phoebe
Dusknoir-1-Banette
Hitmonchan-2-Mismagius
Greninja-3-Driftblim
?-4-Chandelure
?-5-?
?-6-?

"Water Shuriken!" Liam called. Three hits, the last of which was critical and Chandelure fell. Phoebe was guinely surprised by that and sent out her own Dusknoir.

[br]

Liam-vs-Phoebe
Dusknoir-1-Banette
Hitmonchan-2-Mismagius
Greninja-3-Driftblim
?-4-Chandelure
?-5-Dusknoir
?-6-?

"Thunder Punch!" Phoebe called.
 "Spikes!" Liam ordered. Jiriya tossed spikes all over Phoebe's half of the stage and than was hit by the electrified punch, which did nothing. Phoebe was shocked.
 "Jiriya has the special ability, Protean." Liam explained. "His type changes to match the move he's using. Now, Night Slash!" Jiriya slashed at Dusknoir. Phoebe called for a Curse, which allowed Jiriya's next Night Slash to finish it. Phoebe sent out her final Pokémon, Sabeleye, who was immediately hurt by the spikes.

[br]

Liam-vs-Phoebe
Dusknoir-1-Banette
Hitmonchan-2-Mismagius
Greninja-3-Driftblim
?-4-Chandelure
?-5-Dusknoir
?-6-Sabeleye

Phoebe immediately Mega Evolved Sabeleye. Liam had Jiriya use Water Shuriken, which only hit twice. Sabeeye than used Power Gem. Jiriya was hit. and than afflicted by the curse. Jiriya was on his last leg. Liam recalled him and sent out Sylveon.

[Liam-vs-Phoebe
Dusknoir-1-Banette
Hitmonchan-2-Mismagius
Greninja-3-Driftblim
Sylveon-4-Chandelure
?-5-Dusknoir
?-6-Sabeleye (Mega)

Sableye used Fake Out, but it failed.
 "Moonblast!" The attack hit Sabeleye for massive damage. Sableye than used Shadow Claw. One final Moonblast and Liam won.
"Oh, darn. I've gone and lost." Phoebe said. "There's definitely a bond between you and your Pokémon, too. I didn't recognize that fact, so it's only natural that I lost. Yup, I'd like to see how far your bond will carry you."

Liam's next opponent would be Glacia, and it would be another Pokémon's time to shine.

[User] "Nicely done, Liam!" Shiranui praised. Numeru cheered as well.

[Assistant] "Thanks." Liam said. He called Goodra out. Goodra was happy to see Numeru and proceeded to hug her.


[System]
Age: 8 years old

Sex: Male

Appearance:
As depicted in the picture above and stands roughly at 3ft 1 inch tall.

Role: Warrior (Scout) and Hunter

Abilities:

* Now you see me... - Due to his irregular choice of apparel, he tends to stand out in a group of normal goblins.
* ...Now you don't. - Even so, he is exceptionally skilled in keeping hidden and moving silently...well for a goblin that is.
* Griz be nimble. - Griz may not be as strong as most of the other warriors, but he sure is one of the fastest and most dexterous of them all.
* Hits *just* right. - Griz's choice of weaponry may not be intimidating like a morningstar or a battle axe, but he sure knows how to use them to maximum effect.
* Hunter's Intuition. - Griz is at home in the wilderness just as he is in the village. He is knowledgable in survival skills as well as hunting skills.
* Pyrophobic. - Due to an incident when he was a youngling, Griz is extremely wary around large open flames.

Clothing/Equipment:

* Black Hooded Cloak. - A cloak made from dyed leather modified to fit a goblin's diminutive size.
* Black Leather Shorts. - A pair of shorts made with dyed leather modified to fit a goblin's diminutive size.
* Cloth Hand and Foot Wraps. - Strips of cloth used to muffle and offer mild protection to the hands and feet.
* Iron Hunting Knife. - A simple single-edged knife meant for hunting animals. Griz's most reliable weapon.
* Wood Short Bow and Arrows. - Mundane bow and arrows made from the wood of the surrounding trees. Griz's favoured weapon.

[User]
It had been three whole months since the incident regarding Griz, the magically enhanced orc, and the ominous dragon pendant. The pendant itself, along with the runed dwarven shortsword, were kept in the shaman's hut for safekeeping. And that was the end of that.

No orcish warband came to avenge their fallen brother, no magical curse/plague befell their village for having the pendant, and, most importantly, no adventurers came looking for the pendant.

It was peaceful.

"Remember, may your prey be beast or person, getting the drop on them almost always guarantees a kill." Griz whispers as he nocks an arrow and draws it back ever so slowly. Making sure that the deer was more focused on the pile of berries he left in the open rather than the goblin hunters hidden in the canopy above. He stays deathly quiet, going so far as to not even breathe at the moment before he loses his arrow. It embeds itself into the creature's upper body. It lets out a pained bawl before dashing off deeper into the woods. "A good clean hit." He says with a smile as he turns to face his hunting companion, Breden. "It won't make it far. Care to show me how good you've gotten with tracking?" Griz asks the younger goblin. Hoping that he'd been helping the younger hunter improve himself during the times he'd asked him to tag along while hunting for the tribe.

[Assistant]
Siwa bristled a bit at being called 'child', although she knew Koglan meant not harm by it. She was going to be a mother soon. In fact, by goblin standards, she already was a mother, since she had clearly conceived younglings in her womb. Still, there was no point in biting the hand which, quite literally, would be feeding her and her family.

"Yes, that looks good. It's plenty for now. Thank you again, Kog" she began to eat, only realizing how hungry she had been once the food started going down her throat. While she had periods where food was scarce before, she absolutely couldn't starve with so many children in her. Her only consolation was that she didn't have to wait nearly as long as human women did to give birth.

"Kog, before I go, when I have given birth... and you want a son of mine to apprentice under you... what sort of things will he have to do? Will I be able to see him every day after he starts working here?"

Breden nodded and spoke as they walked. Three months was worth at least a year to a goblin, and he had learned much. "Let's see. There's a trail of blood, but it doesn't go very far. The deer must have crossed the stream and walked some distance in the shallow water before coming out of the other side. A wounded deer couldn't have gotten very far, but it must have exited the stream in a spot not too steep for it... here." Sure enough, the bloody trail resumed.

"Now, we can follow this, but only so far, as you said. The blood won't stain the dark ground the same way it does the leaves. Since this soil is soft enough for hoofprints, the deer will have left- yes. I got this, follow me." Sure enough, they came upon a wounded deer in a forest clearing.

[User]
Griz couldn't help but smile at the younger goblin.

To think that he had grown so much in just a little over a few months. Breden had great potential to be a great hunter and Griz was proud that he was able to help him on his path. Though upon encountering the stream Griz balked and grew slightly pale. The trauma of being swept away and nearly drowning was still rather fresh but he had to keep composure for the sake of keeping Breden focused on the task at hand. They were on a hunt for the sake of the village and leaving a wounded animal to suffer longer than necessary would upset the Nature Spirits. Keeping a brave face, he resisted the urge to make a dash out of the water and kept following Breden's lead. Sure enough, they encountered their mark once again.

Griz gave Breden a nod to convey the feeling of pride he felt to the up-and-coming hunter. "Excellent job, Breden. Now for the true test." Griz then produces his bow and arrow quiver and hands it to him. "Take the shot, young hunter. May the Ancestor Spirits guide your hand."

[Assistant]
"May the ancestor spirits of good archers guide my hand indeed" Breden took the shot, hitting the deer in the side and bringing it down, mortally wounded. Its death came not even a minute later. "Thanks for letting me use your bow. Looks like the ancestor of someone who could shoot an injured deer was looking out for me. Maybe I had a father who was good at this. Or grandfather or something." Breden walked over to the deer and took out a small knife.

"So, how are we dividing this? Half and half?" He had brought it up with Griz earlier, but the discussion about how to split the quarry was delayed, as the point was to teach Breden how to hunt, not to talk about dividing the meat which they hadn't killed yet.

[User]
"Maybe, Breden. Maybe." Griz says with a chuckle as he takes his bow back from the younger goblin. "But you've got potential. So, chin up! You've got your whole life ahead of you." This wasn't empty flattery to help raise the young hunter's self-confidence. He'd hunted with goblins older than he was that still have difficulty with tracking down a wounded prey. Breden not only managed to keep track of it on land but even when the trail ran cold still managed to find it.

Griz then approached Breden just before he began dressing the now dead deer. "Half and half is fair. You want help with the deer?" Griz held no doubt that Breden could have done the whole deer by himself but they were burning daylight and Griz really disliked the idea of toting a freshly killed deer in the middle of a dark forest when all the nocturnal predators come out to play.

[Assistant]
Koglan sat and drank his sweet water while Siwa ate. He watched her and nodded slowly, "Remember Siwa if you grow hungry my hut and forge are open to you. Come by any time you wish. Ignore any looks any of the other goblins give you. You are always welcome here." He took another drink and stood as Siwa began to leave. Her question though was something he had felt coming.

For a moment Koglan thinks, "It will be a long time before your son can even work the metal that a smith is known for using. From the start he will be fetching me tools, I will teach them about the fire, about how metal reacts to it, of how to properly handle the billows and the forge. For months he will spend time here everyday watching and fetching tools. Then after months learning how to smith the essentials of a tribe. Things like nails, shovel heads and utensils. He will have spent atleast 8 months in the forge doing those small jobs as an apprentice before his master, myself, would give him the job of creating his journeyman project, which is to forge his own tools, tools that he will use throughout his journeymanship, where he will learn how to forge weapons, small blades and arrowheads and armors. And finally after another 8 months, I as his mentor will give him the job of creating his masterwork, creating a weapon, or a piece of armor that will solidify his style and his name as a master smith."

He nods, "Through out all of this there will always be time for you to come and visit him. In fact I fully expect you to come and teach him about life in the tribe. For is that not the job of the mother? I can teach him the ways of the smith. But I was taught the ways of the tribe by my mother." He chuckles, "He will be my son and apprentice, but he will also be your son still. I cannot take that away from you Siwa." He nods and smiles, "I have spoken on this. You may still come and go after the birth to see our son. Yes." He nods, "Is this to your liking Siwa?"

[User]
"Yeah. We'd better get this meat back to the village before the scavengers get it" Breden had lost enough food to scavenging animals before to know that it was a real problem. The two goblins took one side each and hauled the fallen deer all the way back to the village. It wasn't easy work, and both had worked up quite the sweat, and an appetite. Still, there was more work to be done. On the way back, several female goblins turned to look at them. They had expected Griz to bring back this type of quarry, but Breden was another story.

"Is that-"

"Looks like him."

"-didn't think he had it in him."

"Wonder what else he's got."

"Think he'd hunt for me if we paired up for a night?"

Breden only picked up snippets of the conversations, but he got the gist of it. It felt good to be wanted by females, even though their desire was better described as interest at this point. Trying hard to focus, he turned back to Griz.

"So, we gonna cut this up in your hut? I don't have the blades you do."

"That sounds fair. As long as you teach him how to do the things you do. I mean- I want my boy to have a good life, and that I'd have at least one son of mine who isn't going to be at risk fighting or hunting. Not that I wouldn't be proud of a son who's a great warrior or a hunter- I want that- but I also don't want to risk losing too many of them. You should know that I've accepted that I'm probably going to live to see a few of my children die before I do, assuming I live even a few years more. And yes, that setup you described is indeed to my liking, thank you."

She smiled at him. "And of course, I will be sure to avail myself of your food and drink, for the good of my family. I have spoken on this."

[Assistant]
As the two passed by the seven goblinesses he too overheard snippets of the conversation the group had regarding them. It was good to know that at least some of the females were recognizing Breden as a possible mate. Griz would have given the young goblin a pat on the back for achieving that but they were both busy toting around a dead deer. A few moments of silence passed before the younger goblin asked if they were going to cut up the deer at his place. "Yep. Got a flint knife that cuts well." Griz says offhandedly as they made the turn towards the back of his hut.

Sparse as it may have been, it gave them more than enough room to butcher and skin the deer. "Alright give me a second." The older goblin says as he tied a rope to the deer's lower half and climbed up a small tree to lay the rope across a sturdy branch so that they could hoist the carcass up with relative ease. "Breden, get the knife and the big wooden bowl from inside my hut while I tie the rope to secure the deer."

[User]
Breden got the knife and bowl. "Here you are. You sure that will hold it?" He saw the veteran goblin string it up, as he had surely done to prey many times before. "Guess it will." They proceeded to butcher the carcass, working quickly to get at the meat while it was still good. They both knew they'd have to cook it if they wanted any of it to be preserved. Although goblins could safely consume meat which was more rancid than what humans could tolerate, they weren't devoted carrion feeders like vultures. Hence, they still had to keep in mind the dangers of spoiled food.

"We should eat some of this stuff as soon is its off the deer, but if it's not too much trouble, I'd like to cook some of it. Maybe we can do that together as well. You showed me how to start a fire, after all. Or how to start one effectively, at least."

[Assistant]
"Well sure. Let me show you a trick the older hunters use when they need to make a fire quickly." Griz says as he helps Breden set aside the meat, fur, and bones of the deer. He takes the flint knife and his reforged iron dagger and gestures for the younger goblin to follow him to the firepit near the center of the area. "Trick is that if I scrape the back of the flint knife with the iron knife, it'll make sparks." Griz then demonstrates the trick and well enough he manages to make sparks in a short span of time. "Why don't you give it a try?"

While Breden would get the fire started, Griz would assemble his smoking rack. Griz also ties long sections of bark to tie onto the thing so the smoke wouldn't dissipate quickly or be affected by the stray gust of wind.


[System]
"The Delinquent"

Age: 18
Rank: C

Bio: Originally a country boy, Yunosuke moved across Japan as he grew up, living in several small rural towns before settling in Tokyo, where the bright lights and urban temptations proved to be a huge distraction for the highschool aged boy. Back in the sticks, he was known for being a hothead punk who was much too scrawny to finish any of the fights his mouth managed to get him into. He emulated the gunslingers and noir heroes of his favorite films but failed to deliver on both the charisma and skill. Where they got witty one-liners, he had a mouthful of marbles and a vocabulary that was 80% obscenities and empty threats. Always the instigator, he would pick fights just to keep himself amused.

He mellowed out some in Tokyo, if only because that shit can get you killed in the city, but he retains all the most endearing qualities of a delinquent. Despite a bad attitude and some misplaced aggressions, Yunosuke does have some redeeming qualities, such as a code of honor that makes sense to nobody but him (though it keeps him out of doing anything truly idiotic) and a charitable nature.

As a human with a strange ability, he was recruited to fight alongside a yokai in the constant struggle against berserks.

Powers/Abilities: Able to manipulate smokes and gasses, Yunosuke found that he can also turn himself into a gaseous state, though that ability is still vastly untested and unstable. He can transform individual body parts with no issue, but finds full-body conversion quite difficult. He carries a few mixtures with him to be used in combat situations.

---

"The Natural"

[User]
"am I good at catching frogs? of course! spending most of my time at my family's countryside residence, was probably the most fun I had." Hattori responded in kind. The large, frog like Berserker was already showing itself to be a rather troublesome creature. He watched it it move, carefully observing the creature for any weaknesses, weak spots or openings, but sighing at Yunnosuke's sloppy dodge. He noticed it's erratic movements and jerking twitches, something seemed off about this beast to him. as Yunnosuke asked him to keep the beast busy, Hattori gave him a thumbs up and started to move towards the Berserker. "Hey! big, slimey and ugly! You want to fight right? Well let me show you just how I deal with insects like you" Hattori stated, arrogance mixing with his already confident demeanor. The Berserker took notice of Hattori and carefully watched him move in. Hattori smiled, both his palms erupted into red flames. "Orochi Flame burst!" pushing both palms forward, Hattori generated a blast of red fiery flames at the creature. By surprise, the creature narrowly moved out of the way, one it's arms getting caught in the fire as it was burnt to cinders. Hattori smiled as he then moved in, the Creature in a panicked frenzy started to flail wildly. Effortlessly, Hattori dodged each swipe from the claw, tail and kick. His right arm changed into a crude, scythe like blade. "Muramasa Blood Gift: Shinigami Slice!" He stated once again before quickly shooting forward from mid air, slicing off the other arm of the Berserker. Hattori smiled. "This thing is a walk in the park."

Hattori turned around. "Looks like you've got no one to, give you a hand I see" Hattori mocked the armless monster. However, the Berserker grinned, it's shoulders twitching rapidly and very erratically until it produced newly regenerated arms. Hattori stood there, not sure what to say. "Well...okay...shit..."

[Assistant]
Yunosuke had to collect his jaw from the metaphorical floor after seeing Hattori chop up that Berserker like it was cheap meat at the butcher's. The actually action wasn't exactly what had drawn his attention. He'd seen enough movies to know what slicing the limbs off a giant frog would probably look like. No, it was more to do with the brazenness of calling out attack names as though he was a half-cocked young hero in an anime. Yokai could get away with that shit. Their ancestors passed on the names, and generations upon generations added the subtitles, and even that still didn't diminish the coolness of the technique. He smirked a little bitterly.

Credit where credit's due, I guess. He did turn his arm into a scythe.

Regardless, he didn't have time to think about it. Unfortunately, though not wholly unexpectedly, the Berserker was able to regenerate after the attack. That suggested some really inopportune stuff about their opponent's physiology and levels of power, but the delinquent was still sure his plan would work. Brute force wasn't gonna win the battle today, so he had to be a crafty underdog tactician, which was a phrase he sort of wanted tattooed across his chest.

He reached the top of the stack of crates and pulled a cigarette from his pants pocket with one hand and his lighter from the inside of his jacket with the other. He lit the cigarette as he surveyed the battlefield, taking a few deep drags upon watching the frog beast regrow its arms. They were covered in some sort of slime like you see in bad horror shows, and it twitched even more erratically than before. That might become a problem, honestly, but he figured they'd see in time.

"Alright, Hattori. Thanks for the distraction!" he called out to his partner as he pulled the cigarette from his lips and raised it above his head. He tried his best not to sound too condescending, but he was full with a cocky eagerness to see this plan finally come into action. "You've chosen a fine tomb, beast," he addressed the Berserker with all the menace he could muster, "And it's time to lay you to rest." With a flick of his wrist, Yunosuke concentrated on the thin trail of smoke produced from the burning tip of his cigarette and managed to extract a plume, burning up the rest of the cylinder and sending the smoke skywards into the sprinkler system up ahead. The detectors sensed what it mistook as fire, and soon the whole warehouse sputtered to life under a curtain of artificial rain.

"This is the Rain-Slick Gambit Number One: Industrial Coffin!"

Or something.

It had looked a lot cooler in his head. He didn't end up resembling a drowned rat in the conceptual trial runs, but it seemed to be doing its job so far. The Berserker hadn't expected it, clearly, and it began to frantically jump around the enclosed space. Yunosuke wasn't sure how long that'd last, so he leaped down from his perch and addressed Hattori as he ran.

"While this thing is freaking out on us, I want to trap it. Get to one of those forklifts, if you can. I'm going to lead it into the center of one of these stacks, and if you topple some of these boxes onto it with that lift, we can see what sort of damage we're able to do to it while it's pinned," he was headed into the direction of the convulsing frog while he shouted, and thought to add one useful tidbit, "Don't worry about catching me in the avalanche. Just give me a heads up and I'll turn myself to smoke and slip right outta there."

He slid to a halt in front of the Berserker, taking into account just how slippery concrete got against his worn-out sneakers. Yunosuke cracked his knuckles and stared down his foe before punching it right between the eyes. He was surprised he managed to get in a hit. Admittedly, the monster looked rather taken aback, too. The shower was definitely having an effect on the creature, slowing its reaction times in favor of more mindless hopping. That seemed to end the moment his fist made contact with its skin. Skin? Face. The Berserker narrowed its eyes and let out a monstrous croak, leaping forward in pursuit of its prey. Yunosuke ran as fast as his legs would take him, and it still wasn't fast enough. He expected as much. He took a hit to his back, which sent him stumbling onto his hands and knees. Trying to keep his composure, he scrambled and did his best baseball slide under the beasts' belly and managed a two-legged kick which sent the Berserker back to bounding.

It was good timing, too, because Yunosuke was starting to feel the effects of the spirit world once more. That overhanging sense that everything was monstrous and inhumane was messing with his head a bit. He wasn't entirely sure if the water was throwing him off his game, or if the subtle differences between this reality and his own were causing him problems, but he knew he was faring much worse against the Berserker, physically, than his partner. It didn't seem like poisoning or blinding was really gonna do any good against a demon frog, and that was what he was best at. Pulling himself back to his feet, he took a small box and threw it in the direction of the monster, trying to buy Hattori a few more moments to get situated.

[User]
"This is the Rain-Slick Gambit Number One: Industrial Coffin!"

Hattori stood blankly as the sprinklers sprung to life, drowning the sludgy tar slime covering the berserker. "I...I'm not going to question the name, just going to roll with it" Hattori muttered, as he looked on, observing the creature. It twitched and convulsed more wildly this time as if the water was burning it, steam rising from it's body. Hattori listened carefully to the plan from his partner; get a forklift and proceed a warehouse style avalanche of boxes upon the berserker to trap it. Hattori nodded to Yunnosuke.

The Berserker itself could feel the burn, especially after the kick from Yunnosuke that exposed its belly. He quickly moved back to an upright stance, taking a box directly in the face. The creature gave out a blood curdling roar, flailing and sprinting towards the delinquent with rage and pain filling its ever pore.

Hattori had managed to find A Forklift not far from the center. He looked around for keys but to no avail none could be found. Taking off the front panel, Hattori began to hotwire the operative machine towards a stacked pile of boxes. As the forklift smashed into them, the boxes began to topple quickly, bringing down more of the stacks than Hattori first initially thought. Hattori smirked and soon moved back around the center to meek Yunnosuke.

The creature had leapt mid air at the young hunter, too late in claiming him for his next meal he was piled upon by box after box, the piles narrowly missing Yunnosuke. "Hey, Yunnosuke? You okay?" Hattori asked, seeing his partner and the berserker trapped underneath the toppled pile. "Glad it missed you, huh?" He stated, placing both hands in his pockets as he marched towards the frog like berserker. "A D-class Berserker with regenerative healing capabilities and a thick slimey coating to boot. I guarantee the slime was helping it heal." He explained as he knelt beside, watching the steam slowly dissipate as the sprinkler system began to wane. "It hates water. Seems to wash away the slime and burn it's skin. We should have a better chance at it now though." Hattori smirked, his left hand changing to a rather crude looking sickle, and his right holding an orb of red flame.

[Assistant]
The fact that his on the fly strategizing had actually managed to turn the tide of the battle had admittedly gone straight to Yunosuke's head. Had they not needed to finish off the beast, he knew he would be smirking like a fat cat in a tuna factory. As it stood, his heart still hammered rapidly as he pulled himself free from the one crate that had gotten a little too close.

"Do you want to do the honors or should I?" the punk cracked his knuckles and scowled at the Berserker, ready to finally grind it into a fine paste.

As he said that, the massive creature shifted under the weight of the avalanche and slowly rose to its full height. Yunosuke noticed a change in its demeanor. Its eyes had lost the crazed swivel and it seemed wholly incapable of recapturing its former frenetic pace. However, as the human soon found out, looks could be deceiving.

The Berserker bellowed and lashed out with its massive forelegs, causing Yunosuke to duck for cover and crow, "You've gotta to better than th-"

His sentiment was cut short as he felt something sickeningly warm and moist above his foot. With a disgusted grunt, he looked down to find its tongue wrapped around his ankle. Maybe standing directly in front of the beast wasn't exactly the best course of action. I'm just an unarmed human, though. You'd think it would be more worried about the yokai with a bladed hand and a fistful of fire, he grumbled. Without wasting another second, Yunosuke stomped directly down on the mucus-laden tongue that had made itself a soggy manacle and leaped away the moment it retracted with a shriek.

"Come on, Hattori. Let's put an end to this clown!"

Admittedly, he wasn't sure how much more help he could be, seeing as his normal tactic of blinding and gassing wouldn't work too well here, but he knew if Hattori started swinging that edge around, he could sneak up behind for some close quarters finishers.


[System]
Username: Culluket
Race/Species: Goblin (Plains)

Gender: Goblin (Plains)

Age: More than three

Career (if any) and Skills:
Da Really Little Waaagh! -- A petty Shaman, Gobskag has little to nothing in the way of damaging magic, dealing rather with hexes, disruptions, and dirty, underhanded tricks. Like most goblins, he is allergic to (and useless in) direct combat, preferring to knife the enemy in the back, preferably while they're face down in the mud. Underestimating him, however, has backfired before. Every greenskin has a level of base savagery in them, and Gobskag has more than one ace up his sleeve, wielding terrifying and lethal close-combat magicks such as Da Curse of Da Stabbed Froat: a dreadful hex cast with the sharpened end of a wooden, rune-carved wand. Woe to the opponent who lets his guard down at close range, for the curse is swift and terrible.

Any beneficial magic he attempts to use will mysteriously fail to work on stunties, or those with a stronger-than-usual hatred of goblinkind.

Alkhemy -- The fine art of potion brewing. Might also be "poison brewing". Or bomb-making. Not knowing which it's going to be is da best bit.

Cunnin' Planz -- Gobskag is loaded with cunning plans, some of which may actually be useful, and all of which involve tactics so dirty that just hearing them spoken aloud would make a Bretonnian throw himself on his sword. He also has a sixth sense for when things are about to go belly-up, and has usually pulled a vanishing act by the time anyone else figures it out.

Weapons:
Cursin' Stikk -- The requisite shaman's staff: The twisted branch of some unnatural tree, topped with a carven Scary Face and hung with tufts of untreated animal skin and leftover chicken bones. The end is sharpened and reinforced, so that the staff can double as a Stabby Stikk if the enemy is on the back foot and the Shaman smells an opportunity to get stuck in without excessive danger.

Gougin' Knife -- Those magickal reagents aren't going to pluck out themselves. Doubles as Treacherus Froatcutta when in proximity to turned backs.

Hexplodin' Bombz -- Beneficial potions that didn't quite pass muster as being actually beneficial. Some of them explode in clouds of foul vapors, others, fulminous balls of crud. What's important is, they're all dead magickal.
Gobskag has learned not to prepare these too long in advance, as the hexes are liable to leak down his robes, explode ahead of schedule, or get absent-mindedly mistaken for a refreshing beverage.

Attire:
Presently, Gobskag's orkkult robes consist of little more than a grotty, pointy-hooded sack crudely sewn together from differently-colored items of clothing looted from various battlefields, corpse-carts and unsuspecting merchants. But as his grand new career unfolds, he plans to embellish his kit, a little at a time, with the finest magickal-lookin' bitz the enemy has to offer, and changes will be reflected here.

Equipment/Other
Brewin' Bitz -- a small cauldron, a set of powders and some fire-makin' equipment, so that Reagents or concoctions can be prepared in camp, or in case he feels like cooking a rat.

Magickal Reagents -- Gizzards, eyeballs, live vermin, pouches of anything that might pass for useful.

Physical Description (as detailed as possible please, pictures not accepted.):
Gobskag is a scrawny, hunched, shovel-nosed bastard, with furrowed, leathery skin the most unpleasant shade of puke green possible, and leering with a jagged grin of ugly, mismatched yellow teeth -- thus proving greenskins can't even get their names right. Beady red eyes glint shrewdly under a shadowy flour-sack hood, and drooping bat-ears, ragged from various close calls and squig bites, flop gormlessly out of its sides.

Mental Description/Personality:
Gobskag is a typical goblin. Which is to say he is a stupid, opportunistic, evil-minded coward possessed of an almost supernatural degree of low cunning. He learned to play cards explicitly so he could learn how to cheat and only has respect for authority to the degree to which it can bribe, beat or intimidate him into line, which fortunately any good commander easily can. Conversely, he is disgustingly obsequious to those with the upper hand, right up until the moment they're not watching anymore. Dealing with him is a simple game of carrot and stick -- he's clever enough to know not to bite the hand that's thumping the other guy. He'll kill more or less anyone, and doesn't particularly care what he gets paid in, as long as he has more of it than anybody else.

Background/History:

Gobskag was once a member of the Scarey Face tribe, a somewhat pathetic warren of goblins without much to distinguish it from the countless others infesting the Badlands, ruled by a Shaman known as Screamin' Mog. The Scarey Face tribe had, in turn, quickly been absorbed into the swelling Black Bonez warband under Golg Grub-Mouth, a brutal orc marauder who took a special pleasure in plundering Empire trade routes.

While this was dead great, as it got them stacks of loot and constant, invigorating skirmishes with the outraged border princes, the internal politics were precarious. Golg Grub-Mouth was not a patient warlord, and Screaming Mog was a particularly vicious and paranoid shaman who regularly dispatched his underlings if his voices told him to. (His voices. It really was just him talking to himself in a squeaky voice, and he didn't pretend otherwise.) Gobskag was a bad position, even for a goblin. If he made himself any more useful to the warlord, Screaming Mog would kill him. If he didn't, the Orc or one of his seconds would almost certainly do it instead, and probably eat him afterwards.

The solution came unexpectedly when he was discovered a good way outside camp in the dead of night, where he had absolutely not been doing nothing remotely nefarious, by a band of very serious, dangerous-looking mercenaries. Gobskag was sure he was done for, and likely he would have been, had their commander not shrewdly proposed an alternative: Gobskag would be not only spared but rewarded, if he betrayed the Black Bonez and aided in facilitating a surprise attack.

Greed, treachery and the lure of revenge warred against the natural greenskin order of might makes right, and self-interest temporarily proved the stronger. Gobskag agreed, and promptly betrayed the mercenaries to his tribe, who erupted into open combat.

The mercenaries, being experienced dogs of war, had been ready for this, and a second company had flanked to the other entrance. Gobskag then double-betrayed his tribe by opening the gates, then betrayed the mercenaries again (I's bottled 'em in over dere, boss!), and finally when the chips were down and the battle hung in the balance, triple-betrayed his tribe, giving the free companies the advantage they needed to hew them down to the last and finally slaughter Golg himself.

The mercenaries had taken the goblin's flip-flopping treachery in good humor, all things considered. They laughed about it together, paid him his promised share, then tied him in a sack and threw it into the nearest bog.

As he hauled himself onto the bank, having escaped his fate via a series of cunning plans and improbable coincidences, Gobskag experienced a number of epiphanies. First of all, he was now official Top Shaman of the Black Bonez tribe. However, since he'd also just helped completely destroy said tribe, he unfortunately had nobody to brag to about it. More importantly, more magniffisently, he'd had a glimpse of something amazing. A whole world of possibility, that might just be everything a greedy, bloodthirsty, conniving little bastard like him might wish for. A little fibbing, a little sneaking, a little stowing away, and Gobskag was on the fast track to the bottom of a whole new heap in grand Tilea.

While his unscrupulous nature is a hazard, commanders experienced in real, honorless, bloody battle know all too well the value of a good wildcard, and that's exactly what Gobskag is -- a loathesome surprise for the other side. Greenskin magic, even the puny kind, is not something many foes expect or know how to deal with, and let's face it: When the sides are deadlocked and conventional strategy fails... nobody cheats like a goblin.

Having had a taste of what the world of the free companies can offer, he tends to view the greater mass of other goblins as primitive chumps, who wouldn't know a good thing if it stabbed them in the throat with a rune-carved wand.

[User] -edited-

[Assistant] Hmm... anything they wished? As it happened, Baecion did have it in mind that perhaps a few tomes of magic and other such interesting topics might be necessary to help progress his magical abilities, if the man had any such objects in his castle... but he'd perhaps save his request until after they were alone, just so he didn't further alienate the other mercenaries in the group. Plans were discussed amongst others, including the idea of using a boat to escape (which Baecion first thought somewhat unnecessary, but after further chatter from the others saw the merits of implementing); meanwhile, Baecion finished his meal, politely crossed his hands over his lap, and when the time came, simply stated "A contract to confirm that we are owed certain dues once the job is complete sounds like a reasonable idea." Really, his input was barely needed, and ideally (at least for now), the less he was noticed, the better.

[User]
Gobskag rubbed his spindly green claws, a little too eagerly for anyone to be comfortable with.

"Sure, sure," he rasped, leering, "Poor, weak elfses and stunties needs their rest, neehh? Heh hehh... Ol' Gobskag will keep watch, an' make sure nuffing goes missing in da bleak, spooooky dead of night, hneh heh hnehh..."

It would be a good chance to poke around the cursed castle, too. Treasure and food aside, Gobskag would have bet his left eye there was a proper humie skeleton somewhere on the premises. Right good bones for magikk wands, and an evil-looking skull wouldn't go awry on his orkkult robes, neither.

"Den in da mornin' we can gets down ta business... But I ain't goin' in no cage!" he sqwaked, thumping his stikk against the floor for emphasis. "I gots a betta plan. One wiv extra cunnin' bits. Yous'll see."

He withdrew into suspicious mumbling, eyeing the others surreptitiously from under his hood and glancing around for secret doors.

[Assistant]
Gahetano nodded. He was tired: a little rest was what he was hoping for. Howewer, he tried not to sound too desperate for it:

"It's pretty much settled then" the human declared heading towards Alfredo with a renewed cup of wine the man obviously needed. The servant, reluctantly, accepted the drink -since it was now being offered not so much by a guest than by another servant of his master- "I suppose theres a room were we can rest without creating further inconvenience to our employer?."

[User] Sketti wasn't exactly tired, but due to the small bit of drink and how boring it was to listen to the Grobi speak, he'd fallen asleep on his chair. His snores were generally light, other than a few hacks every now and then. For some reason, he still seemed wary despite the closed eyes and sagged beard.

[Assistant]
In the dead of night, Gobskag scuttled through a hole in the crumbling wall, loot-sack bulging with stolen food and ill-gotten gains. Mercenary work was right good, he thought to himself. You could get rich without even doing any fighting! Chengizz's ruby alone would make him a gob to be reckoned with. He was well on his way to being downright respectable.

"Now where did dey say we was goin'?...." he muttered to himself, leering over a crude, upside-down map with an X scrawled onto the coastline. He squinted at the horizon until he saw a tree that looked kind of like a picture of a tree on the map, and scuttled off in that direction, confident he'd reach Loosinny in no time at all.

---

Legends tell us of how the conniving shaman did indeed arrive at his destination, after traveling the breadth of the continent for years in the wrong direction; felling terrible beasts, carrying out daunting quests, slowly becoming both a grizzled veteran and something of a folk antihero, cackling in the face of authority. Tales are told of how he burgled the blue college against impossible odds, taking only a few bread rolls and a new hat, and using the headmaster's desk drawer as a privvy. Songs are sung of how he rescued the fair Duchess Aveline from the clutches of the Raven cult, felling countless Daemons and swinging her to safety across a bottomless fissure, only to ask if she knew what Luccini was and how were you supposed to get there again?...

Yes, whole decades passed before that huddled, dusty shape shuffled slowly into the border of Luccini. The goblin was wizened, now, darker in color, missing one beady eye and wearing a fake grey beard hooked over his ears and dangling down to the ground from his chin, just to make sure everyone knew he was proper venerable now. Onlookers whispered in awed, hushed tones of the Prophecy, the foretelling of the day Gobskag the Glorious would arrive at the port and unseat the reigning Prince, claiming his throne. But the grizzled green veteran only leered, sagaciously, and bought out the Prince's flagship in a jaw-dropping display of cunning negotiation and charisma. He hired on a select crew of eager adventure-seekers, including a giant, anchor-wielding ogre first mate, raised the Scarey Face flag and set sail, coursing on to lands unknown.

Yet as the great ship was casting off, some brave, pluckish young boy called out to the goblin hero, begging the secret of his almost supernatural good fortune. The greenskin mercenary looked back and could only leer, in as close to a kindly fashion as he was capable of. His one good eye twinkled like a beady red marble.... and the ruined socket of the other glimmered with an even deeper, faintly magical crimson sheen.

"Lad," he chuckled, tapping the eye-stone, "I owes it all to me lucky ruby."

~Fin~


[System]
Age/Race/Gender: 35/ Human/ Male

Occupation: Mercenary

Weapons:

Combat knife: A bigass fighting knife.

Pocket knife:  Used as more of a tool than anything.

Wrist mounted laser pistol: A nifty little gun that sits on the forearm and wires into his spinal prosthesis for hands free firing. It takes small cartridges that have lots of rounds, but not a lot of umph.

Duel ballistic machine gun and pistol: When carrying a bag of medical supplies around, compact weapons are a must. This gun was made with that in mind. The machine gun is pretty standard, but it harbors a pistol in the handle that can be pulled out for one handed use.

Armor: He prefers old fashion armor designed to defend against ballistic weapons. This is mostly due to his spinal prosthesis being an older model, and the powered armor interfering with it.

Items:
Spinal prosthesis: Sasha is, technically, a paraplegic. He relies on his bionic spine to keep the use and feeling in his legs. After taking a several rounds from an assault rifle in the back, his natural spine was fucked. He didn't have insurance, so he had to get what he could afford, which was an older model of prosthetic that has long since become obsolete. It has external hardware that runs along his vertebral column. This hardware can be interfered with by powered armor or point blank EMPs. EMPs further than 20 feet will have less of an effect.

Field medicine kit: Contains three small bottle of lidocaine, several rolls of gauze and Ace bandage wrap, a small chest tube kit, splints, needles and syringes of several sizes, tourniquets, foil emergency blanket, sterile gloves, sterile cloths, providone-iodine, scalpels, saline flushes, clamps, scissors that cut through just about anything, cauterizing pen, suture kit, smelling salts, and a few other things that I may be forgetting.

Skills:

Battlefield Nurse: After a particularly brutal fight that left one of the men in his unit severely wounded, Sasha decided that he needed a certified medic on the team. Since no one else volunteered, he, as usual, took charge and sent himself to nursing school. He has been a certified RN for about five years, and he specializes in working in the field, with minimal supplies and under fire.

Leadership: Sasha has led several mercenary units over the years. Even when he doesn't want to lead, it always seems to happen somehow. Understandably, he has no interest in leading this particular unit.

Linguist: Having been born in Russia, Sasha's first language is Russian. He can also speak English, Spanish, some French, and a few other European languages. He doesn't know anything outside of human languages, but he's smart enough to learn simple phrases fairly quick if he studies them.

Powers: N/A

Other: He speaks with a Russian accent

Appearance: Sasha is a very large man. He stands five inches short of seven feet tall, solidly built and muscular. He has pale skin and dirty blonde hair that is kept in a neat buzz cut. His eyes are a gray-ish blue and steely. He wears mostly old military pants and shirts, in drab green and tans.

[User]
Location: City of Jungenbru, planet Taranese.
Date: 3rd of February, 2162.

It was a busy marketplace, in the middle of a big city. People talked loudly, cars drove by both on the ground and in the air, chatter loud as people bought their varying wares and laughed happily in the bright city. This was one of the happier places in the galaxy, far from conflict and terrifying ordeals. In among these walked a tall woman in black, an alien with white skin and black eyes, carrying a weapon on her back. But, this wasn't unusual. Bounty hunter, perhaps, this place was filled with aliens as it was and she wasn't one of the worst offenders. She was speaking to someone, and it was reported that she placed a hand on his forehead, since this struck those who watched as just the slightest strange.

Then the woman, in a single deft movement, reached behind her with her free hand and grabbed her halberd before swinging it in a flawless slice which cleaved the man's throat. He died immediately and fell back as a string of blood launched into the air from the woman's sharp blade. Multiple screams were let out around her, and people called for the police. The woman was utterly calm, despite the action she had just committed and the screams of the terrified crowd around her. Police weren't far away, and arrived directing their weapons at her, telling her to stand down. She pushed them back and off their feet with but a motion of her hand, using psionics. They started firing. The woman deftly dodged, in a way that seemed impossible, like she knew where they'd shoot, before she closed the distance and hacked at them with her halberd.

That day, their police force was left decimated. The woman darted from officer to officer, cutting them, incapacitating them so they fell bleeding and screaming onto the ground. The ground and surroundings quickly became stained with red. When reinforcement came, they found her stained with blood and standing with her halberd raised over a sea of injured, screaming and bleeding police officers. And if that wasn't bone-chilling enough, the woman was smiling. A creepy, pleased and ill-fit smile, as if she was proud of herself or simply enjoying the sound of the screams which surrounded her. With this, it came as no illusion to the police that they needed help. A bounty was quickly put on her head.

With the bounty that was put on her head, a chase instigated. Yet, tracking her down seemed to always end up with blood spilled all over the ground around her before she fled again. Soon enough she vanished from the planet, just as more extreme measures were being put into motion, the law enforcements lamenting their inability to defeat the threat. And this one incident… was only the beginning of what would amount to the reputation of one of the deadliest criminals in the galaxy…

______

Location: Chronos Station
Date: Today (19th of August, 2166?)

And here she stood. In among these soldiers in armor suitable for the age and with blaster-weapons for shooting purposes or what-have-you-not other things, stood also a tall woman in what appeared to be medieval armor with gems attached to it. Lataniva listened, her skin unnaturally white and eyes black, in her armor, spikes going a bit of everywhere from it. Here and there on the armor were gems, including one on the headband that held her long black hair directed backwards. On her back was a long halberd, with small blades on the end, strapped to her back. She might have looked strangely out-of-place.

Some here may know her reputation. If nobody else, bounty hunters should know her, for a price has long rested on her head.

… would know of several instances where she has been reported to have killed and maimed people as well as law enforcement for little to no reason. Multiple bounty hunters that have gone after her are known to never have returned. Her reputation paints her as a savage murderess with powerful psionic powers, not to be underestimated. Last known location, Deadzone, working with criminal organizations. She kind of dropped off the map recently, random deaths not too unlikely in the Deadzone so it wasn't too unlikely she had been assassinated somewhere, but here she is.

She listened with a blank, almost mildly bored-looking expression as she looked at Dawson. This was information she already knew. Then, it was over to Stryker. He made it clear he had no intention of making friends. Didn't bother Lataniva too much. She understood. For the moment, there was nothing immediate she felt like commenting on, for now she would stand and listen. For now.

[Assistant] The Funganoid chuckled at the thought of volunteering for this. This was a prickly bounty hunter, and one that might not like being taken for the edgy scum that Tibulus saw deep within him. Tibulus responded to the angered bounty hunter with a slight tone of sarcasm and a pinch of smartass. "Heh. I'm not volunteering to do this. Volunteering is unpaid work, if you forgot that. I'd also like to see you try taking down something that's already deceased, I really look forward to it. This being said, I'd rather not have to feel the simulated pain you'd attempt to bring onto me, and as such, I'm going to stand down and let you simply go wallow in your own self-absorbed past. You don't get in my way with what I'm doing, and I'll stay out of yours with what you're doing. As long as we both do these things, we're cool." A small jolt of electricity pierced through the jumpsuit and shocked Stryker as the Funganoid finished his sermon, and with that, the skeleton leaned back on the crate and continued to smoke his cigar. "Oh, and you'd be the one piloting the transport shuttle, not me."

[User]
Location: Golat III
Golat III was renowned as being an extremely hot planet, with long hot days and short freezing cold nights. Despite this it was also know to be a large hotspot for illegal trade and under the table deals. This was because no law enforcement was on the planet that wasn't lazy or being bribed, and any orbital scans wouldn't work that well.

But, despite the heat there was one man out and about, and he didn't seem to be that effected by the heat. He was out there because he was looking for a certain building. He found it, and it was an old nightclub, or at least that what the owners wanted people to think. In reality it was a giant warehouse full of illicit items, drugs, guns etc. All worth a fortune.

All highly flammable.

A security camera caught the whole thing from outside saw what happened. The man in the armour kicked open the door and used his flamethrower on the opening. Fire and smoke obscured most of what happened on the inside, but according to most reports, the attack lasted about five minutes and about twenty bodies were found inside.

It was unknown however who the victims were, as the bodies were too scorched for facial recognition and all DNA was destroyed. But eveeryone was sure that the man with the flamer made it out alive, mainly because the cameras showed him leaving the building, dragging an unknown person behind them in one hand, and a large case in the other.

---

Location: Chronos Station
Hadrian was stood on the loading deck along with the others. He was there because after the incident on Golat III Hadrian was approached by some spook working for some governemnt agency that he immediately forgot what it was called.

They made him a very interesting offer. They wanted him to work on some top secret project, work with other bad people to do bad stuff for a quote 'good cause' as they called it. In exchange, protection for what he did in the past to all those other nasty people.

They also offered him something he had been looking for for the longest time. Information. He has looked for this info for a while now, he has tried many times to acquire it and many means to do so, everything from bribery to torture. And yet nobody told him, until now. All he had to do was be patient and keep killing people. It suited him fine, even if they lied about what they had, they knew something. And if meant going to war with an entire govenrment, so be it.

Meanwhile he had to put up with this lot. There seemed to be a few who thought themselves better than the rest. Like they shit gold rather than actual shit. You could practically see the dick measuring going on. But, he decided not to get involved with that. Ge would try and be somewhat friendly with the others, hell he had even heard of a few of these people and was impressed that the spooks had convinced them to tag along on their weird ass project.

Underneath his helmet he smiled a bit and decided to try and see if anyone was willing to be reasonable, at peast with him. He cleared his throat a bit and spoke as loudly as he could.

"Ladies and gentleman, I am sorry to bother you, but I am the ships chef. So, if there is any dietary requirements you have, anything you are allergic to or anything that you would like me to cook for you, please let me know. Thank you for your time."

[Assistant]
Sasha crossed his arms over his chest, trying to hide the boredom that was setting in. He was beginning to miss that cozy little cell on his transport ship, and his book that was in his bag. It just seemed like they were wasting time here. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could go back to the work that actually mattered.

They were barely five seconds in when the skeleton/mushroom looking thing picked a fight with their so called leader. Sasha remained silent throughout the exchanges. So far, he wasn't overall impressed with this little rag tag group. He was gonna be pissed if one of these fuckers got him killed.

The man beside him, who appeared to be wearing a long coat and a veil of some sort, spoke up as their cook. Sasha raised an eyebrow, briefly wondering how sanitary this guy could be with all shit covering every inch of his skin. He had to smell bad under there.

Finally, he decided that it was probably time to introduce himself as well. He, too, had been given a specific job on this team.

"My name is Sasha," He said, his deep, accented voice clear and calm. "I will be the team medic. I am a registered RN, and I specialize in battlefield first aid. If you have any medical conditions I should know about, then you should probably tell me before we go out into the field."