[System]
Gender: Male

Appearance:

Age: 17

Race: Human

Skills:

* Trap expert: From his days spent as a treasure hunter, Caelan has intimate knowledge of the more common traps. He can disable, dismantle or repurpose much of what he comes across in dungeons.
* Navigator: Traveling alone most of the time required knowing how to get around, and after some painstaking trial and error Caelan's got it down. He is handy at finding which direction to head in and is good at using stars as a map.
* Forager: A good number of edible and otherwise useful plants exist in the world, all you need to know is where to look. Whether its for medicinal purposes or for a quick meal, Caelan is decent at digging up what he might need.

Magic Abilities: Water magic, which normally is used in the form of ice magic.

Weapons: Magestone gauntlet. A crystal embedded in this gauntlet helps Caelan channel his magic, increasing the potency of attack spells. He has learned to form a blade of ice on the gauntlet to use during combat.

Inventory: Two blue potions, bottomless waterskin (given to him by Demoko).

Bio: Caelan was born and raised in Clock Town, being raised in a fairly average life. He had parents who cared for him, friends that he liked well enough and life overall was easy and simple. Were he any less adventurous he might have been content to stay there, lead an easy life and work in the shop that his family owned, but that was hardly the case. Even from a young age Caelan had a habit of wandering about, going to the furthest reaches of the town and exploring much to the chagrin of his parents. He has a natural curiosity, one that can only be sated by exploring and experiencing new things. When he grew older his excursions graduated from simply wandering around Clock Town to traveling outside of it, at times going a fair ways away. He always came back home after these trips, but the more that he saw of the world the more he longed for. It was only inevitable then that at 13 years old he would go on a trip outside of town and not return, having decided to go on a journey for himself.

Being young as he was, Caelan hardly put any thought into what he was doing. He didn't know where he might go, what he might do for a living or how he'd get what he needed to survive. What little food he brought with him ran out quickly, and for the first week and a half he spent a great deal of time hungry and unable to sleep. He would get a lucky break, or perhaps unlucky, when a group of treasure hunters found him in a nearby town and offered to bring him with them. What he assumed to be an act of benevolence turned into a rather nasty situation as he was taken into dungeons with them, sent ahead to scout for traps and any monsters lurking inside. When your back is forced against the wall you learn pretty quickly, and in a few months time Caelan began to learn the ins and outs of treasure hunting, as well as the dangers that came with it.

Though the work was dangerous and the team he worked with hardly the kindest he loved what he did, enjoying the thrill of it; bringing home a good few hundred Rupees every outing didn't hurt either, though most of that went to the group's coffers. For about a year and a half he traveled with these people, making a living off of raiding tombs and caves, selling whatever they found in the process. After a while of seeing his profits dwindle to next to nothing however Caelan became fed up, and now having the skills needed to survive up and left one morning. That was two years ago now, and he has become a successful, solo treasure hunter. He would occasionally team up with others, but the desire to turn a big profit and keep it for himself usually kept him from relying on partners. He's still looking for that excitement in his life however, and he's waiting on the one big haul that might satisfy his craving to explore.

[User]
Regol had not paid much attention to what had been in the crates given to them at the shop, but he did remember seeing or he believed he did at least, a few clawshots inside one of them. With his crude map representation that was made out of shadow, he indicated to a courtyard that wasn't too far from their location. There were several balconies on the next floors that were being renovated and rebuilt. Though that was a while ago, there was no telling if they were still under construction, but if so there was bound to be things for the clawshots to grasp. He indicated with small shadow puppets clawing their way up to at least the 10th level. That was where the construction stopped and there were no more balconies at least in that courtyard that went higher up.

It was there best bet to climb fast and hopefully unseen, the courtyard was rather small and served more of just letting sunlight into the inner sanctums of the castle rather than for decorative purposes. It wouldn't take them all the way, but perhaps they would bypass the chance of running into a number of guards and alerting Fiona to Regol's return who she would no doubt seek out to confront after she received the news. The courtyard was only down the hallway they were in and then another would lead them right into it through a pair of metal doors.

[Assistant]
"I have no idea, I haven't had a chance to look into them yet. Being able to scale the building somehow is safer and faster, we just have to figure out how..." Rarely was the front entrance ever ideal, and if the palace was crawling with guards the more they passed the greater a chance their cover would be blown. Then there was that Fiona woman to worry about and Caelan would much rather they didn't cross paths with her at all. Wracking his brain for a plan he looked to Regol as the map was brandished, following his gestures and nodding understandingly at what was being proposed; find the courtyard and scale up there. That made sense, it was little more than a garden he imagined and there would be no real reason for guards to patrol there. That wasn't to say it would be utterly devoid of guards, but it should be far easier than going through the entire palace.

"Just keep the map out a second longer, let me memorize it," Caelan mumbled, his eyes pouring over every detail, every hallway and doorway he could manage to glean from it. Often times when seeking treasure with a group you only had a single map among everyone and, as he'd found, rarely did people share or even provide wholly accurate replications. For his own sake then he had gotten into the habit of memorizing maps as best he could so he could navigate without one, and compared to some labyrinths he'd been in the palace's layout was remarkably simple. A cuple of branching halls that in large circled back around on themselves and for the rest it was like a grid, easy to remember. Gesturing for the map to be stored away he made a mental of note where they were now for future reference, even going as far to look at whatever paintings or plants might be in the corridor, anything for a mental snapshot. "So the courtyard, then up to whatever windows we can reach. Really wish we knew the schedule for the guards, post changes and all that. Would make sneaking around so much easier."

[User]
Link hoped they were onto something with this whole possibly using tools to get up into the building, at least in a way that was better than how he might had done if he still had his powers. He didn't know what else would had been a suitable method to get in other than going all the way around and going into the front door or through a window which would look really suspicious. If there was something to get up into the castle quietly other than breaking things then it was probably in the supplies they had been provided previously. Looking to Caelan expectantly just so he wouldn't bring up his powers again he smiled nervously behind the mask. "Oh uhh, that's okay. Maybe you can have a look when there's nobody around…" It was going to be difficult avoiding the whole 'magic' secret, but luckily Regol was there to provide the shadow magic where he couldn't even if he still didn't much like the guy.

Staring at the shadow map that was created by Regol he frowned when Caelan mentioned memorising it, finding that to be a strange talent to have. Staring at it as well for a moment he soon looked up again, sighing lightly, giving the instructions that Caelan was giving out to be basically the same as what he thought was going to be best to do in the first place. "Okay, okay great. This and that way and then…up and along…" he spoke lowly before looking to Caelan again expectantly, "We have eyes so just watch where they are then find a way up. Now would be a good a time as any to look in those supplies so that we can get to a window without smashing it…like a rope with a weight or something mechanical. Magic is too risky in a place like this, even if the soldiers know Regol…" If Regol could speak then a lot of this wouldn't be a problem, but he couldn't so instead they had to hope they knew a variety of code words that the soldiers may use to identify infiltrators. He was feeling quite terrified of what could happen, especially with this Fiona woman being around here somewhere. All he had was a mask, at least Caelan wasn't on the 'kill on sight' list quite yet so he might end up with a lesser punishment.

[Assistant]
"You're sure this is the correct way, Sophos?" Chunks of earth moved to the side, an old ruin destroyed in the pair's attempt to reach their separated compatriots. "I can hardly tell one rock from the next." Gaios took a moment to stop and rest, his breath heavy and labored. Behind him, Sophos did the same. They'd been travelling for what felt like hours through the ruins beneath Castle Town.

"Oh, do not worry young son of mine, I've been down into these ruins on more than one occasion. There are many alchemical reagents that one can only find outside our kind's reach." After a moment of looking around, a frail hand pointed forward, and a small mote of light appeared near a small passageway that angled upwards. "If we go through there, we'll be at a juncture of sorts. A spot where many entrances into Castle Town can be found." Gaios only nodded and walked towards the light.

"I only hope we'll find somebody soon, even if it's Templar forces. Any indication that your friends are near would be a good omen."

[User]
Regol let the others try and commit the map to memory as quickly as they could, he knew the castle like the back of his hand. The map he had created before them was all from memory, not a legitimate map that he just had lying around his back pocket. Once they were done he ushered for them to move. A guard patrol was sure to come back soon and them huddling around in a dark corner just screamed unusual, the castle Templars were not the average shmuck, they were the pick of the liter when it came to common sense and intelligence. If they saw something out of the ordinary, it would not go unnoticed and without a very convincing excuse would definitely be reported. Getting to the courtyard would be quick and hopefully simple, clawshotting to several balconies without being noticed may be the tricky part unless they did it quickly. Regol took the lead and began moving down the hallway, with the others at his side it would look like a usual escort for higher ranks or official.

One thing that had Regol a bit worried though were his Dark Templars, knights who specialized in Shadow magic like him. Link would no doubt remember them from their first encounter in the milk bar so very long ago. Hopefully Father Thallus had them tasked out on espionage or spy missions, if they lurked around the Castle then it might be harder for the trio to discuss plans with them hiding in every shadow in the Castle.

[Assistant]
"Well, we should probably wait until we're not in the middle of a hall, don't want to pull out ropes here do we?" Caelan smirked, reaching back to pat the pouch secured on his belt. Once they were in the courtyard proper and somehow having reached it without any issue he figured it was well time to decide on a course of action. Since they would be scaling the walls it made sense to try and go as high as they could, cover as much ground as possible at once. This of course was risky as they longer they climbed the higher the risk of being spotted was, yet traveling through the halls on foot was just as dangerous. Climbing seemed like their best, and really their only option, unless they wanted to risk discovery.

Finding a spot where some plants would in large obscure anyone's sight Caelan set down the pouch, rifling through its warped contents to try and find their hookshots among the other items. One by one he laid them out on the ground, keeping the remaining items where they were for the time being. "Right... So we want to try and reach the tallest balcony we possibly can, and we'll have to do it as quickly as we can too. So that would be..." Taking pause he got to his feet and craned his neck, scanning the walls above for the possible points to which they would ascend. There were numerous balconies, some likely well out of their reach, and others so low he questioned the point in aiming at them. Depending on how long the ropes were as well he would know how far they could expect to climb.

"Let's see, if we figure there's roughly a 3 meter clearance between the ground and the top of the arches, that means we take 3 meters off of the rope for that..." Caelan muttered to himself as he squatted down, picking up a hookshot to examine it, "And if I had to guess... Each balcony looks to be about 2-3 meters apart as well, so... Assuming this rope is maybe 20 meters long, we're looking at... Maybe scaling four levels comfortably? Five if we push it, but that's assuming I've done this right. Hard to say without actually checking it..." Frowning as he thought it over a second time he looked to Regol for some information, holding the hookshot out to him. "You know this place better than we do, if we went up say... Four floors from here, would be be close enough? We should obviously try getting as close as we can now, minimize the walking we have to do." And hopefully minimize the chances of their cover being blown.


[System]
Character Skeleton
Age: 19

Gender: Male

Sexual Orientation: Booksexual Heterosexual

Physical Appearance: Zachary, a Caucasian, is slightly shorter than others his age, and he's a little bit chubbier too. He's got blue eyes and short bright brown hair, which he likes to cover with a red hunting cap (Go Holden! Catch in the Rye Like a Boss!). His preferred style of clothing is anything that's RED, and mostly casual short sleeve T-Shirts, plus jeans. He's got a small backpack (blue) that he always wears when he's outside, even when he's not going to school or the like.

Personality: Zachary is mostly quiet and asocial - he rarely makes any attempts to talk to people, and when conversation is made with him he often tries to end it as quickly as possible. He is capable of having friends, and indeed he does have people he trusts (though he's not in close contact with any of them currently), but he generally prefers isolation over the company of others.
Zachary enjoys reading fiction, from Neil Gaiman's darkly fantastical American Gods to Salinger's Catcher in the Rye to Roald Dahl's short story collection, and rarely bothers with anything else if he can get away with it. He likes to go outside to read when he can, and smell the fresh air as he flips the pages - and he does this with the knowledge that people can and probably will pester him.
When in danger, Zachary likes to confront his opponents head-on. He's not very good at it - the one time he was mugged, he tried to throw his bag at the man and steal his knife, but all he got for that was a concussion and no money. And no bag. And no phone. And no keys.
Yeah.

History: There's not much to say about Zachary; he was a normal, albeit introverted, boy for his whole life. He'd had a bit of a bullying problem in his grade and high school years, but it was never so bad that he was traumatized, and his attitude towards his tormentors was such that their relationship wasn't entirely negative.
His parents were never entirely happy with how he was, but they rarely knew what to do to help him, so he was largely left alone to read.
When he got into college - a very nice college mind, one that his parents might have pulled some strings to get him into - he took a Computer Science course and promptly flunked out on account of being too busy reading fiction. Now, he's living alone in a studio, on a meager monthly allowance from his parents and on his pay as a part-time dishwasher. He's also back in a community college, once more taking a Computer Science course and doing substantially better than before, even if he's a bit too preoccupied with his novels.

Zachary's always had some stomach problems - he gets stomach aches for apparently no reason, and sometimes he has trouble keeping food down even when he's not full. They've started getting worse, though. He thinks he saw blood when flushing the toilet.

Demon CS
____________________

Soul Name: *Caeshun

Soul Meaning: That which is bound by Fate

Demon Class: Ghoul(above)

Magic Class: (Optional 85% of demons have one) **Illusion - this is how he'd get through the day without puking at his face in the mirror.

Appearance: Lovecraftian monster from hell. His tongue is hanging from his left hand and his right hand is covered with eyeballs that are missing from his face. His stomach, made of some jelly-like transparent substance, would store highly corrosive acid alongside his very much destroyed organs. He would absorb his food by placing it into his stomach and waiting for it to liquefy, then feel in very disturbing detail as it moves through his body and gives each and every part of him energy. His face would contain only a mouth, useful only for talking, and a myriad of pores with which he breathes the air around him and distributes paralyzing gas. At will, of course. Any semblance of his physical humanity would be stripped away, just like his skin that is only muscle now.
His legs would be fine, though. Perfectly human. His brain would be completely unchanged, too, so he'd be freaking the hell out about his eyes apparently being on his hand and his stomach apparently being the only way by which he could eat. And since he doesn't have the instincts that aid most beings like himself, he'd be flailing around with no clue what to do.

Other: He eats with his stomach, he speaks with the only large hole in his face (which is surrounded by a bunch of smaller holes for breathing), he tastes with his left hand, he sees with his right.
There is no way he isn't going to go insane.

[User]
In silent agony Ashburn leaned against the wall in the break-room, the painted brick supporting his lean six foot frame. His long black hair was plastered to his skin from the heat. His joints protested as he pulled out a bottle of aspirin and took four pills without even thinking.

The pain seemed to be getting worse every day and it was getting harder to hide it from his bosses, especially the head chef. She had eyes that seemed to glare right through him, and he knew she would have no sympathy for a 21 year old with growing pains.

'I thought I was supposed to stop growing years ago' he thought with some humor

He knew he could only hide back there for a few minutes before his tables would start asking for him, so he savored the support the wall offered him. As his watch chimed the hour he knew he could no longer escape, and must again confront the reality of working. With a sigh and a groan he hauled his body, all 135 pounds of it into the kitchen to pick up his table's food. The long bar for pick ups was already full and he could hear the head chef cussing about the hold up.

"Oh goody" he said softly "She noticed"

Hoping to sneak by he quickly grabbed the plates for his table, balancing them precariously on every part of his body that he could. It was an awkward feat and he was sure it looked quite funny, but despite that he managed to get 4 plates of food, 2 appetizer plates and 8 cups into position and walk out of the kitchen. Other than some complaints from his second table it appeared the diners had not noticed his absence to much, a relief for the fatigued student.

Walking back to the kitchen he opened the door to chaos central. The stainless steel kitchen was an absolute mess, with dishes piling up on all sides and enough dirty pots to bring tears to any dishwasher's eyes. Before he had time to remember why he had come in here his lungs suddenly seemed to seize. A panicked gasp escaped his lips as his breathing became labored and stiff, his lungs burning as if on fire. Ash's panicked hands shook violently as he tried to pull his inhaler out from his pocket, but without warning his hands dropped it sending it sliding to the feet of the dishwasher as stars darted across his eyes. Falling against the door frame he tried to call out to the dishwasher over the noise to give him the inhailer but could only manage a panicked and loud squeak as his lungs stopped taking in air.

[Assistant]
Eric arrived late for his shift that day. Another doctors appointment to discuss his heart and lung problems. The doctor also had something nice to say about his anxiety attacks but lets leave that one alone. As Eric got out of his car he headed into the shabby diner. There was a female hostess at the front who greeted him. Eric always wondered how she could be so fake, that girl hated her job and talked about hating it every break they had together. He pushed the question down and continued on to the kitchen so that he could start his day. When he walked through the door Ash was on the floor. He knew Ash because they worked together, and he thought they were decent friends, one of his few at the job. There was a crowd around him, some looked confused and others looked worried. He rushed over and began looking for his his inhaler.

"Where is his inhaler anybody know?" Eric asked in a American-German accent the onlookers, they all shook their heads but the dishwasher came forward with it in his hands. He gave Ash three pumps and he awoke in a coughing fit.

"Are you Okay?" Eric asked and Ash just continued to cough and shake his head no.

He led them back to the break room were things calmed down and Eric pondered one question that was meant for both of them.

"It's getting worse, huh."


[System]
Alias: None

Age: 25

Gender: Female

Species: Dragon human hybrid.

Appearance:

Maggy has developed a human disguise using her slight magical ability. She has long pink hair that goes down to her waist, her face has a half mask on it that covers what would be a violet eye. The other eye is a faint red, this eye remains uncovered because it doesn't normally glow, and when it does she'll most likely drop her disguise anyway. If you were to strip away all her clothes, her cape would still remain, this is because the cape itself is actually just her wings in disguise.

She stands a rather tall 6'3 and weighs about 260lbs, this is the same as her hybrid form. She is clearly pear shaped having very large hips, but this is normally hidden under her big frilly skirt. This isn't to say she doesn't have a nice chest... But that butt tho.

This form is Maggy's true from. It shares the same body type as her disguised form, having the THICC large hips and respectable chest. Along with her red and violet eyes, those are the only features that her disguise didn't alter. Her hair isn't pink or long, but is actually short and purple, hair isn't the only thing on her head as she sports a pair of horns. The left horn being a beautiful gold and the right horn being a deep purple. Her skin is a pale purple having plated sections along her legs, bust, arms and wing arms. Oh yeah, she has massive clawed wing arms. These wing-arms boast an impressive set of claws that can be used to grasp objects or inflict deep wounds, they are often clamped to her shoulders making them look like a cape.

She is the same height and weight as her disguised form.

She can turn into a dragon. She's big, she's mean, she's a fucking dragon. Length: 21 meters Height: 5.5 meters feet Weight: 22.7 tonnes.

Personality: Maggy is an odd one. Most people would call her crazy or insane, this isn't far from the truth in all honesty. She maintains a level head for the majority of the time, but cannot always keep up this persona. She is very quick to change emotion, one moment being sad and then she's skipping on rainbows the next. Fortunately people get visual indicators on her emotional status.

When angered she changes vastly, often not bothering to keep a level head and just attacking whatever the problem is. This is when her sadism starts to show, things like comments on how your screams will be the highlight of her week, or going into detail on how she's going to defile you eye cavity. She is fairly quick to anger, it's made fairly clear by her red eye glowing. If she's like this for long enough her entire personality will change, and it's not a pretty sight. She'll become an absolute asshole, getting angry at pretty much everything. She'll stay in this enraged state for a good while before returning to normal.

Another emotion that shows on her visibly is happiness, she is highly excitable at most times. When she gets excited her violet eye will glow, she tends to hide her violet eye because of how frequently it glows. Her violet eye also glows when she's aroused, an additional reason she prefers to keep this particular eye hidden. When she gets super excited or turned on the undersides of her wings will start to glow a bright violet, mimicking her eyes. When she gets to this point she's acts more like a jovial child, or someone who's just been hit with some of the strongest aphrodisiacs know to science.

Her personality basically vanishes when she goes into her dragon form. She is a creature of pure aggression and hate at that point. Most of the time the only way to revert her back to her hybrid form is to knock her out, that or remove everything that could be perceived as a threat and let the beast calm down.

Power: Maggy has a wide verity of powers, many of which she doesn't know how to properly use.

Hybrid form powers

Dragons strength: Maggy is much stronger than your average human, her regular arms being able to lift roughly 7 tonnes, but her extra set of wing arms are far more powerful being able to lift three times as much. She struggles to limit herself when doing physical activities often damaging things on accident.

Dragons hide: Maggy is a tough nut to crack, able to ignore most conventional melee attacks, things like knifes and hammers would break before managing to inflict any damage to Maggy's skin. Firearms will still penetrate her skin, but will probably not inflict very damaging wounds unless targeted at weak points like the eyes.

Magical disguise: Maggy is able to disguise herself or others with very believable disguises. But when she looses focus theses disguises fade away.

Magical blasts: Maggy can conjure up crude blasts of purple energy, they are relatively weak not dealing that much damage. They mainly just push over opponents or apply light burns. They travel fairly slowly for a projectile attack, and those who have good reflexes could avoid them fairly easily.

Wings and claws: Maggy's wing arms are armed with ferocious claws that can tear through metal, this coupled with her strength makes them very dangerous. And they may be wing arms, but she can't actually fly properly with them, instead she can glide short distances or slow herself down if she's falling allowing her to jump from great heights with little fear of injury.

Transformation: Maggy can transform into a powerful dragon form, but this is almost never worth it. The transformation itself hurts an incredible amount, she has to feel her bones breaking and reforming, her muscles tearing and healing. This process isn't fast either, it's not like ripping off a band-aid. It takes a good 20 seconds of agonising pain to fully change form, this torture often leaves her less than sane, going into a frenzied rage attacking anything that moves.

Weakness/limitations: When it comes to mobility and evasion, Maggy has plenty of room to improve. She's ill experienced in combat let alone using her powers. Also her great strength comes with a downside, she's permanently ill from her mutations, she can be found frequently coughing up black gunk. This gunk is highly toxic and should be avoided.

Dragon form powers

True dragons strength/hide: In dragon form Maggy is immensely strong being able to move train cars or bulldozers, all this strength being focused in her humongous wing arms. She is also vastly more durable in dragon form then previously. Able to tank multiple explosives with little problem, the explosions will hurt for sure but she's able to push through them and continue fighting. Bullets now have even less effect on her barely getting through her hardened scales.

Volatile magical blasts: The dragon form has for more deadly energy attacks, taking the form of purple fire or crackling purple explosions. These attacks are best avoided dude to their great impact force and scolding heat. Fortunately the explosive blasts are very short range only extending out maybe 5-6 meters in front of Maggy.

Wings: In dragon form Maggy is able to properly use her wings and is capable of flight.

Weakness/limitations: In dragon form Maggy is huge. This makes her an easy target for attacks, this size also prevents her from being stealthy in any capacity. She retains her chronic illness from her hybrid state but also looses sight on her right side, only having a left eye.

Likes: Meat, Candy, Blood, Milk, Quiet, Food, people.

Dislikes: People, Quiet, Racism, weaklings.

Skills: Maggy really has no outstanding skills outside of her powers, this is mostly due to her complete lack of memories. She only has basic knowledge, like how to cook and speak.

Other: Maggy has basically no memories of who she was before being a dragon hybrid. Whatever changed her made sure she didn't know what it was.

[User]
~~~~~

Artemis's sleep finally comes to an end from the yelling outside the large garbage can he was currently residing in. With a sigh, which quickly turned into a coughing fit, Artemis carefully opens the lid to look outside. He was able to witness the exchange, which quickly turned into fighting, between Ji-eun and Scarlet/Ver'tiel.

"What?" He manages before coughing up a mouthful of yellowish phlegm which oozes out from his masks filtration grill, and leaks down his beak to dribble on his chest. He doesn't even bother wiping it up, just plans to get the hell away from the angry chicks.

Like a sickly rat Artemis crawls out from the garbage lid, and flops to the ground. Then manages to crawl away, unaware that he is heading towards the group of others watching the fight. With a clumsiness of a drunkard, he gathers himself up to his feet, and wipes away the bits of garbage sticking to his attire.

"What is going on?" He grumbles, which results in another coughing fit. Gradually he recovers his voice, and manages "I happened to like my sleeping arrangements, and wish not to be" A wretched rasp escapes his lips, before finishing with a groggled "disturbed." Artemis decides not to draw his guns, though he keeps one of his hand in imitation of holding his chest when in reality he is holding his the grip of his syringe pistol.

[Assistant]
---

It hadn't reacted any further after no response was given, which didn't trouble the Assassin one bit. It watched as the fight left the area the rest of the group was at. By now, the Assassin would have probably completed the job with less collateral damage. Regardless, it'd do the Assassin well to record the interaction between the entity that possessed the body and the other two women. As it went to follow up the building, a random person had pulled himself out of a garbage bin, and wandered over.
"Interaction between an entity and two females. Outcome: Unkno-" The Assassin stopped as several numbers and letters flashed on its HUD, detailing a new hit, that was really close to its current position. An important target too, over twenty million credits for completion of the hit, one of the more rewarding ones, especially for a one-person hit.

Official from the Taidali Empire, name: Lenah Ki'Lenti, meeting in the 1st Quadrant of the Skyline District. Officialising a trade agreement between the Taidali Empire and the trade corporations of Ring City. You are to remove the Official before they complete signing, and you will be payed the twenty million credits after the job is complete.

Security personnel include:
* A dozen trained Taidali soldiers, supposedly apart of the Royal Guard of the Empire. Threat Level: Low.
* Two Taidali Defense Drones, both outfitted with state of the art tracking cannons. Threat Level: Low.
* A single unknown entity. Classification unknown. Threat Level: Unknown. Treat with caution.

Upon completing the read, the Assassin stopped his conversation, and immediately started climbing the building. It needed a fast way of getting to the Skylight District, and it needed it soon.

---

---

HOURS LATER.
With a loud hum, the near silent hover-copter made its descent to the pad on the top of the Trade Corporations building, and touched down a couple seconds later. The large vehicle opened up, and its occupants exited. Over a dozen humanoid creatures, all of them standing between 5' and 6'5", with long tails protruding from the back of their attire, and long, digitigrade legs(like a cat or dog). Most of their faces were covered, however those that didn't sported gruff features, looking significantly sharper than a human, and seemed to have fur-like hair on the back of the head, whereas the faces themselves seemed smooth, almost as though they were moulded out of stone. Most of them were armed, of course, save three. Two pulled along a large container, and the last was a slightly shorter individual, wearing attire that looked almost like royalty. Two drones hovered behind the group, both sporting a single large silver cannon on their undersides, looking as threatening as the rest of the armed group. They moved their way towards the door to enter the building, and were met by the Trade Corporations own security detail, where they started verifying identification and other classified information. After a few slow minutes, the two groups shook hands, and made their way further inside the building, and began arrangements to complete the agreement.

The Official pulled aside a single soldier, and spoke to him in a hushed voice, in their own language.
"I've been notified that a target has been placed on my head, step up security. The price is... significant. We need to finish this and leave, as soon as possible."
"Will do ma'am, we'll cooperate with the TC's to figure out security, you won't be harmed, you have my word."
"Make sure of it lieutenant... make sure of it..."

And with that, pair returned to the rest of the officials, and once again began talking formalities and toasting to 'new friends'.

Oh how that was going to change.


[System]
Age: 32

Gender: Female

Approximate Height & Weight: 5'11" and 80kg

Former Regiment: Mordian Iron Guard

Speciality: Company Captain

Appearance: Arlena could, if you looked past much of her steelier exterior, be called 'beautiful.' To do so, one would need to take in her rich black hair, hazelnut eyes and tanned olive skin, whilst at the same time looking past a back rigid from perpetually standing to attention, the long scar trailing from between her eyebrows to down below her jawline, her nose showing signs of being stitched back together and, the rare times it is visible, the pockmarked scar tissue along her right hand side visible without her shirt on.

Besides the more immediate aspects of her appearance there is also the fact that despite being of no small rank she has clearly spent a not-insignificant amount of time toning her physique. Her figure is muscled and fairly bulky, and when she rolls up her sleeves to assist with moving or carrying something it definitely shows.

Uniform: Golden epaulettes, commissar-like cap, rich blue overcoat and fine trousers interwoven with flak armour. These are the clothes of the Mordian Iron Guard, and these are the clothes that have clad Arlena for countless years of marching across some of the toughest ground the Imperium has ever needed reclaiming. Hers are a little more reinforced than the common guardsman, being stiffer and woven with carapace, rather than the usual flak, and her epaulettes are slightly more ornate than the factory-fresh uniforms of Mordian recruits, but nonetheless Before entering any battlefield Arlena spends a frankly incredible amount of time polishing and ironing her clothing until it is wrinkle-free and she can see her own reflection in her boots- anyone else showing anywhere near her level of dedication when it comes to prim and proper dress will quickly find themselves on her good side.

Armament: This really depends on the situation she expects to be leading her men into, but Arlena's rank as a captain affords her more powerful weapons than her lower-ranking colleagues. This tends to manifest itself in bolt weaponry, rather than the usual slug or las-throwing equivalent. Generally, she can be seem carrying a bolt pistol and an accompanying power-sabre, but rarely she may be seen with a human-scaled bolter, the chugging noise of rocket-engines firing spelling doom for the Emperor's enemies.

Personality/Demeanour: Like most Mordians, Arlena can generally be described with a small handful of adjectives; 'stern,' 'grim,' and 'dour.' A heavy-handed disciplinarian when it comes to soldiers that step out of line, those that show a similar level of grit and dedication to herself can earn themselves her steely respect. Arlena is also a firm believer in leading from the front- she is not the sort of captain to sit back with a cadre of vox-casters and medics, but instead will be directing the firing line herself, adding her own shots to the volleys of the soldiers under command and, if the situation turns dire, assisting with stretchering the wounded, sandbagging up fortifications and carrying ammunition about.

Greatest Ambition: Her highest aspiration is to serve the Emperor faithfully and dutifully until her death. This makes her perhaps the perfect guardsman in terms of desire.

Greatest Hatred: Ill-discipline, ill-fitting clothes, ill-manneredness.

Skills: Arlena's skills as a combatant are second to those required by leadership. With a steely resolve and utterly unflinching exterior, it is said that Arlena's voice has never broken a single time in her 14 years of service. She is quite capable of instilling this sort of discipline in her own men, be it through sufficient carrot or stick, and despite this all manages to be an above-average gunman and melee combatant.

In addition to this, Arlena possesses what has to be one of the rarest skills in the entirety of the guard- the stones to tell a commissar they aren't doing their job properly. During her stint as a sergeant she astonished the auxiliary attached to her squad by suggesting punishments for actions that they hadn't considered needed reprimanding.

History: Mordian is a thoroughly miserable world in every description of the world. With Arlena's mother succumbing to post-partum depression at a very young age and her father not faring much better, Arlena was, for much of her early childhood, something of a feral lass, scrambling through the pitch-black streets of her hive world home and scratching out a living each day in the hopes that the next would come and she could repeat the process. It was a world of difficulty and danger, but somehow, she survived, and more than that, pulled through harder and stronger, an iron rod blasted by hotter flames than its peers.

Having joined a gang by the time she was a young teen, she would watch as her friends fell prey to drugs and alcohol at equally young ages, dying of overdoses or of overestimating their abilities in fights- she learned her lesson the hard way, a good portion of her face being carved open when she was 14 years old, the young girl surviving through grit and a merciful street doctor that meant her visage would be scarred, but not permanently ruined.

At 17 years old she was involved in a particularly brutal turf war, one that was so rowdy that the local PDF were deployed to it. Picked up by the scruff of her neck by a Mordian trooper and practically press-ganged into the Guard initially, she took to the shining and discipline far too well for someone that had had none of it for most of her life. Nowadays, she would claim that the wild part of her life poorly reflected her true personality, for it was here, in the Iron Guard, that she proved herself.

Deployed as part of the Mordian 246th, she would see action in three separate campaigns on four different worlds (and one moon,) each new environment clawing her slightly further up the ranks by her own grit and determination. Having twice fought orks and once fought renegades, she is no stranger to many of the threats that plague the Imperium, taking this new reforming not as something negative, but as a chance for her to forge these disparate souls into an efficient and brutal fighting force, like she was so many years ago.

Miscellaneous: Arlena despises combat stims and their users, but has a particular weakness for dammassine; so much so that there are rumours the normally entirely by-the-regulations officer carries a hip flask of the stuff on her at all times, and, many a drunkard guardsman has accused her of drinking their confiscated amasec.

Arlena is an absolutely mean regicide player. Perfectly willing to sacrifice vast swathes of pieces to secure herself victory, she is surprisingly gentle when it comes to beginners to the game, and is willing to teach anyone the basic rules once. Once they know those however, the kid gloves are permanently removed.

[User]
Sergeant Rojack was only being given more and more confirmation that treading the skies was not a great idea, though he forced himself to keep his face level and focused. At least he hoped he was, feeling the incoming fire against their transport as they hurtled further downwards towards the surface. His eyes half closed as he offered up a prayer to the Sky Father, continuing to wait to be released from the harness and to be free to get down to blessed ground. As much as he didn't like the idea of throwing himself from the transport into a brief free fall to the ground, but it beat getting shot into pieces before the transport could ever simply touch down properly and let the cargo walk off the transport as if it were a stroll into a sky port. The count down to the harnesses being released was a relief, a brief moment of respite in the face of the impending warfare. Rising when the harness released, heading for the nearest available exit and, the moment he could, throwing himself out of the transport almost eagerly.

 Adrenaline pumping as he plummeted downwards, hitting the ground with a tumble and a roll, he didn't immediately throw himself upright, keeping to a knee and not simply throwing himself upwards into the line of potential fire. The classical sounds of warfare, the screams of dying, the rage of weapons fire, battle cries and incoherent noises that one could not simply piece apart without risking their own well being. He snapped the Lasgun to his shoulder, familiar weight of his cut down shotgun and large sword on his hip a reminder he hadn't lost his kit on the landing. The first he spotted was the Lieutenant, as others were landing, he barked out, the loud, booming voice capable of overriding the sounds of warfare and weapons fire. "This way! We regroup over here!"

 The sergeant was quick to move, joining the Lieutenant in cover, hopefully having rallied the others who were landing and giving them a location to rally to, a direction to go instead of simply wallowing in a hole, getting shot at and waiting for an unlucky weapon to strike them down. There was issues with sitting put, even if it was in a solid spot, eventually someone would find something to hit the position with that would end up wasting the Father's soldiers. Still, per the Captain's orders, no splitting the squad, so he took cover and waited by the Lieutenant for the rest to rally so they could advance towards actual objectives and do the Sky Father's bidding.

[Assistant]
He took note of the Captain's orders. Do not simply charge at the first opponent seen. This was fine.

The Death Korps marched towards its foes. When ordered to.

Clattering. Aircraft taking fire. Hovering bailout called. Sensible. Lower chance for the craft to be shot down. Lower chance for the squad to be killed.

Death outside. Just as he sought.

415633-983223-17-Zhatka was out second only to the Lieutenant, the Sergeant and scant few other soldiers, and then only because he was forced to first hook his backpack over his free shoulder and reacquire his melta gun. It was rare that the Death Korps made use of air deployment. Basic troops were not taught it beyond necessity. Grenadiers were taught it as accessory to the fastest possible means of making ground contact.

The landing and roll were executed accordingly. Weapons hot. Combat in full course. Chaotic. Dangerous. Without ordered ranks. Undisciplined. Per Captain Di Fieroccu's order, 415633-983223-17-Zhatka did not seek an opponent immediately. Lieutenant Sithech taking cover in a crater. Sergeant Rojack moving to share that cover. Unacceptable weakness.

415633-983223-17-Zhatka would be forced to join them. Chain of command. Undisciplined clumping. Natural consequence. Unfortunate. He moved in their direction at a march, his weapon primed to fire at any foes in range. None presented. 415633-983223-17-Zhatka dropped into the crater without incident. Waited for remainder of command squad. Silent. All he needed to say had been said.

[User]
The ship was taking fire. Corporal Tharn clung to his lasgun with one arm, the other hand white-knuckling the bench underneath him. The order came through. They were going to jump from the craft, a rolling bailout. It was, frankly, fething insane. Jumping from a moving air vehicle to the ground without so much as a strip of cloth to keep 'em safe? There was absolutely no way in the Warp they we-

Green light, everyone stood up. By the God-Emperor, they were actually doing it. Jumping out of a damn gunship with nothing but the clothes on their backs. This was mad. Every singe person here was absolutely mad. Mordecai clutched his rifle close as they stepped towards the gate. Surely this was a joke. Surely they'd be told to sit back down and-

And he was out. Tucked up in a rolling ball, one hand holding onto his flakweave cap, the other clutching his lasgun as close to his chest as possible. The rough jostling from the landing shook every bone in his body, and he was fairly certain he'd landed on a particularly sharp patch of dirt. Leaning up from laying on his back just enough to peer around him without exposing himself, he spotted the Krieger.

Quickly rolling over onto his stomach, Mordecai took a deep breath. And another. And another. And then he began to scrabble across the ground after the meltagunner, in a weird half-crawl half-walk, he pushed himself onward towards the rest of the command squad, scrabbling down into cover near them. He did his best to hold his rifle at the ready, though the amount of shaking coming from the Corporal was damn-near audible.

[Assistant]
Hovering bailout. Not the first one she had ever participated in. Adjusting her cap slightly, she would give her commsbead a tap to activate it, before her hands would reach down to her thigh and triple-check her power sword was secure in its couplings. As the bay doors opened up she would straighten her back, the people seated closer to the door bailing out rapidly. She would follow. A hand on the brim of her cap, she sprinted towards the door, and just as she was about to leave, stopped and pencil dropped out.

Carapace armour was much touger than the usual flak armour, and its impact-dissipaiting properties worked especially well when pitted against blunt force trauma. Turning her knees to the ground, the captain would assess the battlefield in the brief moment of weightlessness before she made contact with the blood soaked mud, before sucking in a breath as the contact with the ground rippled through her entire body. Looking around, she spotted her squad hunkering down in a crater and nodded to herself. Good. A solid defensive position. Ripping her bolt pistol from her holster, she burst forward, boots squelching slightly in the mud, before crouching down in the middle of the crater.

"Are you cold Corporal?" She said towards Tharn, grabbing the vox's microphone from his back and wiping some of the mud away from it. "No? Then stop shaking and hold your rifle steady, by the Emperor." Shaking her head, she pressed the broadcast button- the squad's commsbeads lighting up as she did so.

"Listen up! You may have had a rough landing you may have already seen your comrades die, but now is not the time to baulk in the face of adversity. We did not cross the bloodied fields of Vernum to cower here today! Reform your squads, reestablish your chain of command and wherever you see the banner of our regiments, rally to them! Show these bastards what true servants of the Emperor can do!"

She removed her finger, head whirling around. "Where's that damn fool fake Cadian and the voidsman?"


[System]
Species : Elf
Gender : Female
Age : 54
Height : 175

Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original.

Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances.

So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card.

Traits and spells:

-Blood Phobia (passive)
Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated.
-Curse of the crimson flame (passive)
Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage.

-Arrow Enchantment.
Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors:
A. Crystal Arrows.
Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation.
B. Crystal Arrows
Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said.

-Counter
Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution.

-Ultravision
Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness.

-Vengeance
At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked:
C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown.

Equipment
-Lurea
A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds.
-Maugrim
A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade.
-Medium-sized satchel bag
A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind.
-Pocket watch
A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly.
-Medikit
Generic first aid kit.

[User]
Jazdia's horse barely moved a few distances when Kaito asked. ""What do you mean in trouble? What did she say, do you have any intel on their situation? Did they run into an obvious trap based on intel too good to be true? "

"She said nothing important, the usual." Jazdia pulled the reins a bit harder than usual, causing her mount to slightly recoiled in protest. She wasn't an animal lover sort, but after a gentle tap on the neck, the beast had calmed down.

"From what I heard, Matilda was trying to force an entry into a building or trying to open something. She triggered a tripwire or god knows what I guess. Explosion ensued. The comms stopped working after that."

Jazdia nodded at the hunter, who had expressed his intention to remain here. "Good Idea. Tell the bear that we are regrouping with Matilda and to... uh stay here until we returned. Or whatever."

Seeing the doctor has already joined them, the party started their journey back to Pesti. Although time was against them, they did not force their steeds to gallop and opted for a more steady pace. They would need the horses in top condition on their way back to Fanghorn. Hopefully.

Riding side by-side, Jazdia noticed the gloom on Kaito's face. "You don't seem very happy. Mind sharing it, little fox?"

[Assistant]
Chounan had been overwatching the party from a good vantage point. He went along with Veronica as the time the pale girl seperated the party to took someone who meant for integration. A good distance behind the pale girl, he witnessed her how to fight in shadows. He was impressed. As they regroup to Matilda's party along with a taken hostage, he switched back for overwatching the whole party.

When the time the explosion occurred. Assume that reinforcement will come. Chounan spoke to Veronica. "Lady Veronica. Keep an eye of Lady Yvonne and Dame Matilda. I will welcome our guests.". He jumped down from vantage point and mounted his horse and ready his katana. The incoming unorganized wave of mercenary group were welcome by himself from unexpected flank. Master of jocking gave Chounan and his horse a good maneuvery and dodging on incoming attacks. The kicks of the horse hooves is his offense and his katana is his additional defense as for deflecting both melees and range attacks against him and his horse. He enjoyed high ground advantages and he have Ki and Perfect counter during the initiation.

[User]
Jazdia's comment about Kaito not looking too happy caught the fox by surprise. He was always under the impression that he was pretty decent about hiding his feelings but the elf once again cut through his mask like it wasn't even there. For a moment he just stared at his companion wondering what he should say. Even though Kaito was generally the most talkative person of the group, talking about his feelings was something he was not particularly good at. Maybe it was because he has a history of manipulating others and was afraid of having his own feelings used against him. Or was it because he did not understand what he was feeling himself.

The fox turned his face towards the road again as their horses dashed forward. For a moment there was this eerie silence. He could not hide it and saying that there was nothing would surely not convince the elf. "It's just…." began the fox. "It's just that I saw this coming. I tried to talk some sense into Mathilda and you about that the Pesti info was too good to be true and most likely a trap. I understand that you want to cover all bases but it just feels like I'm being ignored and that my opinion isn't valued. That kind of frustrates me and now stuff is a mess."

Kaito paused and looked at Jazdia. Wondering if he somehow sounded like he was antagonizing her or as some entitled asshole. "I'm not good at stuff like misdirection, manipulation and scheming because of my magic. It's that I am good at my magic because I understand how to misdirect, manipulate, scheme and stuff like that. I understand to a certain degree how people think and how I can use that to my advantage. Our enemy does that too. That is why they set up a trap that Mathilda would walk right into, forcing us to take our eyes off Fanghorn."

 The kitsune turned his eyes to the road again, watching the trees move by as they made fast progress towards Pesti. "Anyway….we should focus on the task at hand. The only intel we have is that there was an explosion. If we can't get into contact with anyone on her team we should approach Pesti really carefully. Mathilda and the other could be all dead and our enemies could have set another trap for us to walk into. It is pretty obvious that our enemy's first priority for now is to get rid of us."

[Assistant]
"Mess? No, not all. This is still within my calculation. Fred wanted to use me as a pawn, I simply did the same to his subordinate. Hurting Matilda means the Noble in charge of these lands can be held accountable, and his next move will be easier to observe. I simply prefer to have our dear captain take the brunt. Remember that she is the leader in this investigation, and was eager to go to Pesti. The decision was taken as the compromise."

Jazdia's voice was as cold as the morning air, and it stayed that way when she continued.

"Our enemy is trying to get rid of us? You don't say! I don't know how to say this without making you feel undervalued, or making me look confronting, but you are stating what both of us had already aware of, and yet the big question still remained; How would we deal with it?

Jazdia closed her reply by giving the fox a searched look.

[User]
[GM Post]

Yvonne had no idea when did Chowder retrieved his horse, but there he came riding it into the throng of confused mercenaries. There's just one problem though - it was not a trained warhorse. The explosion earlier must've already startled it somewhat fierce, and then it's directed toward a bunch of screaming people and pointy object.

As a result? It bucked the rider off and took off into the night.

That embarassing little hiccup aside, the man's skill was the real deal. He dodged, deflected, and parried with ease even against increasing number, occupying enough of them that Yvonne didn't see much trouble going in. No one's getting killed either, surprisingly. Maybe mass murder could still be avoided.

Swatting a young lad's spear out of his grasp, Yvonne shoved the little obstacle aside before entering the barn. Fire had started to spread now, unnaturally so. There's likely pitch or oil involved for it to be this bad. Thankfully Matilda wasn't hard to locate, laying on her back not far off from the center. That... didn't look good. The armor had prevented the worst damage to vital parts, but some of the weaker points and the joints was savaged by shrapnel. Not to mention that she's practically next to the source of the explosion. Compared to open wounds, shockwave injuries were silent and insidious. If someone's shanked in the gut at least it's clear what's the damage was, but ain't no telling if there's internal bleeding somewhere before suddenly the victim dropped dead.

"Shit. Come on, big girl. Ain't time for a dirt nap yet."

Lifting the orc was out of question, but Yvonne tested the cuirass and found it still holding together just fine so she grabbed and pulled it by the back of the neck. Keeping her stance low, the mercenary coughed as she moved as fast as she could out of the burning building. There were other bodies in there. Possibly other survivors, too. But she's not in any position to play the hero. One step after the other. Soon enough the burnt acrid air was replaced with cool night wind, and that's one danger out of.

Still not all safe, though. Mercs were grouping up and organizing. Some of them stood in her way, and Yvonne's still too close to the burning barn for comfort. She reeeeally didn't feel like talking right now. Her free hand twitched closer to the mace's handle. Can she kill them? Let's kill them, yeah?

Not far away was a group trying to corner Chowder. Non-lethal takedown was good and all, but proven to be quite difficult to do when they're covering for each other. It'll take some time to get it resolved... or an intervention from someone else.

[Assistant]
Kaito looked at his boss first with a bit of confusion and then started to smile. Jazdia had basically thrown the Orc under the bus. For someone dedicated to law, order and justice she sure had a more practical, darker side. A trait that the fox certainly appreciated. The elf's little scheme certainly had made his day. " Well played"

For a moment the kitsune thought about the situation. So far their party had been reacting to the inputs of the enemy. If it was up to Kaito they should search for ways to gain the initiative and force them to react to their moves. When the other forces your hand, you're more likely to make mistakes. "hmm, I doubt we're gonna find the prince in Pesti. It makes no sense to place him on top of some bomb. Considering who went there my guess is we're gonna find a pile of corpses. If we're lucky Chounan and Yvonne might have kept someone alive to question. But if I was our enemy, I would not place anyone at a trap who holds valuable information on the op I'm running. We'll have to see if there is anything useful to get from Pesti"

The fox paused a bit before he continued. "Anyway, we should extract our resources and hope they are in decent shape after triggering the trap. If the prince is really in Fanghorn they have two options; stay put in a well defended position or relocate to somewhere else. They will be more vulnerable on the road than in the castle. So I think it is safe to assume that they will stay put. Especially if their trap did not take out a good chunk of the pursuers. It's not like we can lay siege to the place with just 8 people."

"So we either need to come up with a way to get into the castle or a way to force them to leave and hit them on the road. Like torching the place down to the ground or having the king send an army. Would he make a move now that his favorite orc got blown up?


[System]
Age: 87

Gender: Female

Appearance:

Equipment: She still has a stash of credits and a handful of weapons. The weapons would likely be considered antiquated by most standards.

Ability: Localized time manipulation.
-Abilities Strengths: Edith is able to create pockets where time is displaced within a 2 yard radius. As time naturally progresses forward it is easiest to speed it up or slow it down. The limit of which appears to be a factor of 1000. While rolling back time within the displacement is possible she has no cognitive ability to make it happen at will. The single example being the unwitting regression of her own age which was at a much higher rate than any of her other abilities.

To help explain how things would look to our characters please see the hider below.
Inside the Field:
Fast: Things outside the field appear slower. When something enters the field it moves at normal speed.
Slow: Things outside the field appear faster. When something enters the field it moves at normal speed.

Outside the Field:
Fast: Things inside the field appear to move faster. When something exits the field it moves at normal speed.
Slow: Things inside the field appear to move slower. When something exits the field it moves at normal speed.

-Abilities Weaknesses: Only a single area of displacement is possible at a time. If there are multiple targets but they are not close enough to each other then only one will be able to be affected. She is also not immune to the effects should she manage to be in the field at the time. Use of her abilities seems to take a toll on her mind and liberal use requires sleep to recuperate. Overextending can lead her to pass out on the spot.

Personal Skills: Somewhat proficient with firearms, can fashion makeshift explosives, decent with hand to hand, can speak three languages (English, French, and German), and is rather commanding.

Personal Weaknesses: Can be extremely hot headed. While her years in prison has helped mute some of that her new found youth has her itching for action again.

History: In her prime she was the leader of a radical group that originated on Earth. They believed that use of AI would bring about the end of humanity. To be sure they were way out on the edge and would do anything to end use of such things. At first they were tolerated as nothing more than another conspiracy group filled with the paranoid. And for the most part they were right until Edith started riling them up. Just 29 at the time she had plenty of issues. Not the least of which was the mental damage done through use of drugs. Unhinged and unopposed she managed to get a small number to declare war on companies that created AIs.

Several factories were destroyed, some with people still in them. Edith and her group became public enemy number one and a manhunt began which forced them underground. One by one her followers either broke off or were captured. With the authorities getting closer she opted to go off world to Mars. Smuggled in she tried her best to fit in. But even with those breathing down her neck she attempted to destroy another facility. Her attack was thwarted however and she was captured. At 34 she was tried and convicted of multiple accounts of murder, property damage, illegal possession of explosives, and numerous other infractions. It was an open and shut case and it her sentence was life in prison.

When you're already crazy having 43 years mostly to yourself doesn't help. Even at 87 she was looking at 20 to 30 more years in the hole. That's the wonders of modern medicine for you. Even still she didn't have the spunk she once did and the facility was more than enough to keep her contained. On the occasion when a human guard would be by she could either be very friendly or shouting obscenities. Senility had had its way and it looked like she would just wither away in her cell. After the many years it had been and so far away from Earth most of the public didn't even know she was still alive.

And then the unexplainable happened. Up late one night (not that it was easy to tell the time) she drifted off into a stupor. A mutation manifesting her biological clock began to tick backward. Hours past and she went from a 87 year old woman to a youthful 17. How far back she would have gone no one knows because the process was interrupted by alarms and yelling. Abruptly ending the first action of her powers she passed out. When she awoke she was somewhere else. It was still a cell but not one she remembered. Being somewhere else wasn't nearly as alarming as finding herself a teenager again. On top of that she could think clearly again, having reversed the mental scarring of those many years ago. The only visible remnant of her former self was her white hair. Wisdom apparently did mean gray hairs.

[User]
Having been incarserated for many years being cooped up in a cell wasn't that difficult. This one might even be better than her last one. The mattress seemed to be more comfortable at least. But that could also be due to her body not being so old and achey. Speaking of which she had no idea how she was 17 again. With the exception of her hair everything was as it was 70 years ago. Having already inspected her body she confirmed that several scars that she should have were gone without a trace. The worst of which would have been on her right side just above her hip. It was an injury sustained the day she was captured.

Whomever had done this to her, one could only assume it was another person, she wasn't sure if she should thank them or not. How something like this could be done was beyond her. Previously she did not have an active feed of the outside so the existsnce of people with powers was unknown to her. Upon realizing that there actually was something to watch without having to request something she made use of it. Mostly she wanted to see the news and try and catch up a bit. The discussions and reports of people with powered sounded ridiculous to her, but not impossible she supposed.

In the mean time she excersized or worked out because what else was there to do? A couple times she was gassed, why she didn't know but she always woke up pissed off afterward. After one such occasion she wadded up her shirt and threw it in frustration. When it suddenly practically came to a standstill she approached it before it began to move normally again.

Small amounts of experementation allowed her to understand that she was the one causing the anomaly. Was she some sort of lab rat or something? Next door there appeared to be another captive. He was new to this it seemed because he made a lot of noise, banging on the door and being a neusince. Beyond that though she didn't see any other people. The guards were all robots, those lifeless VIs. Oddly though she didn't quite have the same hatred of them as before. She still wasn't a fan but the irrational rage they usually induced seemed to be gone. Getting the message through the TV she wondered what it could mean. Doubtful it could be one of her old mates that helped her in the atracks. While pondering there was a crash outside. Knowing better than to go to the door she waited until there was a knock at her own. Heeding the instructions she took a seat and waited quietly. Apparently they were going somewhere and as she was escorted out she caught a glimpse of the other captive.

[Assistant]
Renat breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped out of the classroom. He had spent this school day the same as all the others in the past few days; focused more on not having anything become stuck to him than on the lesson itself. Calm down, stressing will not help, he thought to himself, if you stress, you are more likely to act weird. Relax and act normal. But this did not help. He had also been avoiding his couple friends for the past couple days, fearing they might notice something different about him that his other classmates who couldn't care less. Though he also knew this would bite him in the butt, as Richard and Anna would probably now be looking for a reason he was avoiding them. They were probably on the brink of asking his parents what was wrong.

Deep in thought and avoiding as many people as possible, Renat headed towards the park. The park was one of the several sparsely dotted across across the huge city, parts of a group of projects intended to introduce at least a little bit of vegetation to the harsh red environment. In the park Renat visited, there was a cluster of foliage which he had often liked to hide in when he didn't want to be found by people. I need to tell them something. I can't lie to them, as eventually there will be holes in my cover up and if they find I lied to them, they will be more likely to report me, regard me as a freak and lose trust in me. But can I really just tell them about it? Renat thought about his power. He had been trying his best to not use it at all since discovering it, as if it would be discouraged from ruining his life and just vanish. Though sometimes his curiosity got the best of him and he did small tests of what he could do. As far as he had discovered, he could bond with or absorb objects and manipulate their shapes. It took a lot of concentration, but he might be capable of more, but whenever he opened his eyes and saw the foreign growth on his hand or arm, he immediately focused on it falling off and then causing it to.

Shaking these thoughts out his head, he reached into his backpack and brought out his tablet. Renat had homework and a lot of the day's class work to catch up on. Before he started, he briefly mused on whether Anna and Richard were searching for him and, if they were, how long he would have until they checked this spot and he would have to come up with an explanation. It'll come to me eventually... he thought, and got to work.

[User]
The infirmary, once probably large enough to contain four separate examination stations separated by foldable walls, was now so cluttered with medical equipment and machinery that the staff had to crab-walk to get from one end of the room to the other. There was still a desk with a computer unit near the door, as well as a few chairs. The rest of the room looked like a folded-up arcade saloon, only slightly creepier.

The girl who was led into the room was greeted by a mixed staff. There was a robotic guard permanently stationed behind the door, a nurse who looked like she does not really want to be there, and another man. Though dressed like a doctor in a long white robe, there was something a bit off about him. First, his white lab coat was made from an unnecessarily sturdy material, and its pockets were filled with various tools and electronics instead of medical supplies. There were protective goggles on his forehead. The general impression was that he was a doctor for the robots. Second, his face, while inconspicuous in itself, seemed to be completely numb, like a realistic mannequin. He looked quite young, his expression unfitting of his age.

The man gave her a long look through large round glasses. Eventually he lifted a transparent UI screen from the desk, and tapped it a few times, the screen blinking into a different picture each time.

"Please, have a seat." he gestured towards an examination table. His voice seemed distant, devoid of emotion. "What is your name?"

[Assistant]
Unknown Location

"Excellent subject, high degree of versatility. Mentally immature, coaching role would probably be best. He doesn't quite need help yet, but if things contiue the way they are he probably will. This other one is different, he studies them and his actions may dictate his use to us. So far he seems to be with the U.S.F and as such not to be trusted. However time will tell if he can be trusted enough to be brought into the fold."

---

There was a flash and a burst of air as the displacement subsided a woman stood in the centre where the light was. She walked out of the alley, this was her job. Simply being due to the fact that she knew this place it was easy to teleport too. It was a park, she missed the birds. She couldn't really remember anything but their song, but a park like this should have birds. Though while the ecosystem was still improving through project after project it couldn't support any wildlife. Though one day, in her life time, she hoped it would. She saw him enter the park and go and hide behind some bushes, her phone rang. "Yes, I'm here. He's hiding- Wait. People are getting closer. You'll have to call me back."

---
"Renat?!" Anna burst through the bushes, Richard was slightly slower at doing so and a bit more laid back. Trying to play it cool like most teenage boys. "Where've you been boyo?" Anna just scolded at him. "We've been worried, you've been acting weird. Speaking weird, and acting weird...""You already said that.""Yes I know I said that."

Anna indicated for him to be quiet. "Seriously Renat, what's been going on? You've had us worried."


[System]
BASIC
Goes By (Nicknames): None currently available.
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: Human

APPEARANCE

Face Claim (Actor/Actress They're Played By): TBA / I've yet to find an actor for this character.
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Blue
Skin Tone: Slightly pale.
Height: 6'2
Weight: 170lbs
Build: Lithe, somewhat muscular.
Weapons: Twin swords, multiple daggers and knives hidden on him.

Overall Appearance:

Dark features, Visible, jagged scar that runs down his right eye. Various scars are hidden underneath his clothing.

Ghent is often clad in black or dark grays.
Most of his clothes are made from black leather; his cloak has a hood and a mask to cover the lower half of his face if needed. He has various weaponry concealed; he often wears fingerless gloves, laced up bracers, and boots.

PERSONALITY

Likes: Gold.
Dislikes: Talking, poverty, people in general.
Strengths: Picking locks, leadership, agility.
Weaknesses: Stubbornness, Greed.
Fears: Loss, failure.

Overall Personality:

Stubborn | Calculating | Complicated | Quiet | Incredulous | Shrewd

Ghent's family was very often poor and lived in a lower part of a small, poverty-stricken town. His mother passed away shortly after giving birth to her second son, Garth. Ghent was ten years in age when she passed.

Ghent's father turned to drinking heavily and he came to blame his children for the loss of his wife. Fearing for Garth, Ghent took matters into his own hands; at the age of thirteen, he took his younger brother and left home, never once looking back.

Life on the road was not an easy one, but Ghent was determined to tough it out so that they would not have to return to their father. At first, Ghent began with petty theft; he stole what was needed in order to keep them alive, they took shelter where they could and lied whenever questioned. As the years went on, they moved up in the world. After years of practice, Ghent became a highly skilled thief. This was the start of a life he would live well past his teenage years.

* * *

Ghent has an eerie calmness about him and his emotions are seldom ever shown. Because of this, he is very difficult to read -- almost impossibly so. Ghent handles matters in a diplomatic way and doesn't often resort to violence unless necessary. For the most part, he is quiet and reserved, therefore much of his past is unknown.

Deep down, Ghent does have a heart, though he does his best not to show it. He'd be the last to admit it, but he has a soft spot for those in need.

BACKGROUND

Date of Birth: ? Have to calculate that. ,_,
Place of Birth: Outskirts of Laketown. Not quite within the town, though close.

Family Relations:

- Garth (younger brother)
- Lydia (Mother; deceased)
- Vincent (Father)
- Kaiden (cousin)

[User]
"So, this is the Hobbit." It was now that Thorin paid Bilbo the smallest acknowledgement. "Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?" Bilbo's mannerisms already spoke against this; Thorin was quite sure he'd never picked up a sword, let alone fought with one.

All was confirmed when Bilbo stammered out a small "pardon me?"

Thorin glanced up as Dwalin and the other dwarves gathered in the foyer upon his meeting. "Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?" Again, he was calm, though his gaze was critical at best.

"Well, I have some skill at Conkers, if you must know, but I fail to see why that's relevant." Bilbo wasn't quite on the same page, and he moved aside some so to make room for the crowd of dwarves.

"Thought as much." Thorin glanced to the others now, his tone somewhat mocking. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." This earned a few laughs and hearty chuckles from the rest of the group. Bilbo was definitely not a warrior.

"But you're our godmother." To some extent, Kili understood Thorin's hatred for elves. They had denied their people help, after all. Saeril was not one of the ones who had denied help, though. Surely his uncle would not object to her -- would he? This was upsetting. "You shouldn't have to do that," he didn't feel it right that she should have to conceal her own race. "I could speak with him, if you'd like." A one on one conversation with his uncle was a touch intimidating, but Kili was willing.

[Assistant]
Saeril gave a sad sigh again, almost sounding guilty, as she was heard Kili's reassurance and offer to help her situation. Really, he didn't need to, nor would she want him too. Thorin Oakenshield was a dwarf she didn't want to cross paths with; she was the one who murdered his and Dis' father Thrain during the battle of Moria! Whether or not Thorin knew her to be the killer, Saeril has bad memories coming back to haunt her; memories she was counseled to forget. Otherwise, the same darkness she had before will begin to boil, and if it does, she didn't want to think about what it could do towards her newly-found family. No, she never would let that happen; not to Kili.

"Okay", she suddenly found herself saying, looking towards the innocent dwarf before her. "You may speak to him. But rest assured, I promise no consequence", Saeril began to remove the headdress, and let her hair flow free, revealing once again her pointed Elven ears. Her creamy-white hand was right near his own...

[User]
"You can trust me; we're closest of kin." Kili was insistent, he truly believed that Thorin would listen to reason if he handled this properly. "Everything will be alright, I promise." The youngest Durin took her hand in his, and he gave her hand a small, reassuring squeeze. "I'll be right back." Kili smiled to her, then turned to leave, confident that he could speak some sense into his uncle.

As Thorin overlooked the group of dwarves, he took notice that only one nephew was present. "Fili, where is your brother?" If anyone would know, Fili would. The elder of the two was often keeping an eye on him, and for a good cause. Kili was known as the reckless one, after all.

Right then Kili entered the hall, and he tried to get an idea of Thorin's current temperament. "Well, you took your time," he attempted to joke a bit in hopes of reading him better.

"I became lost...on two occasions." Thorin sensed his nephew had more to say, but he did not bother to question him. There were more pressing matters at hand. "We have plenty to discuss, Gandalf." The king started to lead the way into the next room, and Kili lost his courage. Just momentarily.

"Fili," Kili grabbed hold of his sleeve before his brother might join the rest of them. "I need to speak with you -- about Delva," he explained in a rush, as he did not wish to keep their godmother waiting.

[Assistant]
As soon as Saeril watched her youngest godson leave the living room, she quickly looked herself in a mirror nearby, and gazed upon her reflection. Ever since Thorin Oakenshield stepped a foot into her sights, the she-elf felt a wave of nostalgia start crashing back to her as she looked upon her own reflection: the battle of Moria...Azog...Smaug...the screams...Gandalf...Fili....Kili. The warping sounds were all coming so fast, out of nowhere, she suddenly punched the glass. Even after she did, Saeril gasped at the damage of such action, looking at the shattered remnants in horror. It was eating at her; the past darkness inside of her.

Fili honestly figured that Kili was still with their godmother, even when his uncle asked him. He didn't immediately answer, and a little bit of hesitation did bite him. He knew Thorin's disgust for elves, and entirely reserved and devoted he was, he didn't want Delva to face such humiliation. She was to be welcomed warmly acceptable. Before he even could follow his uncle, he felt the hand of his brother stop him from moving. "What about Delva? What's wrong?", he asked him, clearly worried for her.

[User]
"Nothing's wrong. Not exactly." Kili released Fili's sleeve, and he cast a glance towards the hall as the others left to discuss Thorin's meeting with the other dwarves. "As soon as she saw Thorin, she seemed a bit panicked." The prince could recall this perfectly; he'd seen how anxious their Delva had become. "She started to put on a crown of sorts...a headdress, I believe." The prince wasn't quite certain how to describe it, and he nearly jumped out of his boots when he overheard footsteps coming their way.

Once he was certain no one was approaching, Kili continued, barely pausing for breath. "She was trying to hide her ears, Fili. She's an elf -- and, well...it is no secret how Uncle feels about elves...but it isn't right. She should be treated with respect; Mother trusted her enough to be our guardian, didn't she?"

Kili chewed his bottom lip, a nervous habit. "I promised to speak with Thorin. Do you think he will listen to reason? I was going to speak my mind earlier, but the others were there...and I couldn't tell if he was in good spirits."

[Assistant]
Fili listened to his brother's reason and case about their godmother, and she nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard glass shattering in the room next to them. He looked back at the company in the dining hall, and he was surprised that they didn't hear it.

"Of course she did, Kili. Mum always did, ever since we were born", he agreed with her mother's decision to choose, but to feel Delva's distress through Kili, it was enough to try and resolve the conflict. However, he wasn't sure on what his uncle thought on the matter. "Alright. Um...", he paused, looking at Thorin in the dining hall, before looking back his baby brother.

"Go back to her. I'll go talk to him", Fili walked off as soon as he said this. He had a lot of respect for Thorin Oakenshield, plus he was closer to him than Kili was. He hoped he would understand. Approaching his role model, he quickly composed himself. "Uncle. I know how much the mountain means to you, but there is a certain someone that Gandalf seems to want to assist us on this journey", he began to explain to Thorin, hoping he would understand.

[User]
"Are you certain?" Kili hadn't meant to foist this off on his big brother. Truth be told, he had hoped that Fili might offer to help, but he did not wish for him to take this on by himself.

It was here that Kili overheard the breaking glass. The sound was enough for his heart to skip a beat, and he looked towards the blond with some alarm. What could have happened? Finally, he gave in and rethought his offer. "Well. Alright...if you do not mind. Thank you, Fili," he thanked his brother earnestly, and he found himself wondering what could have broken. Had one of the company broken the door to one of Bilbo's fine cabinets? He hoped not. Bilbo was upset enough as it was.

Brows furrowed with concern, Kili headed back to the sitting room to report back to Saeril. Upon entering, his eyes widened in surprise when he saw the broken glass fragments all over the floor, with only his godmother present.

Thorin had been telling the others of his failed quest to gather dwarves to assist with their journey. Needless to say, Fili's timing was not the best. The king was not in the highest of spirits, and neither were the rest. "What is it, Fili?" There was a touch of impatience within his tone, though he did give him his attention. "If you are referring to Mr. Baggins...he has already made it quite clear that he does not wish to join us."

[Assistant]
Saeril was still staring down the shattered remnants of glass all over the floor, while sinking herself down on one of the lounges, replaying the action within her mind as she stared at the hearth of the fire with an Elven stare in her eyes. Hearing Kili enter, she almost forgot about the mess, and she quickly stood up, looking between him and the glass, not sure on how to explain.

Fili shifted a little in footing as he stood in Uncle Thorin's prescence. He cleared his throat before once again speaking. "Actually, uncle. This is someone else, and we hope to gain your approval for her to join us", he really hated to say this, but had to anyway. "She's a elf, and Gandalf insists on this", he was almost stuttering in his words at the end, but he really hoped his uncle would see the reason.


[System]
Age: 20

Gender: Female

Appearance:

Personality: An altruistic young woman who does her best to look out for others – as long as she can pull it off without the masters noticing. This good nature landed her in trouble when someone saw her trying to give food and clean clothing to the prisoners in the dungeons.

History: Doesn't remember much of her own history, except for little snippets. (Was taken from a war-torn southeastern land and sold as a slave when she was seven years old. She doesn't remember much of her family, but apparently they were at least middle-class as she is somewhat able to read and vaguely remembers having tutors of some sort, though she doesn't remember what they taught her.)

Skills: Is resourceful and a quick thinker, and a master of her impulses. Also, due to her station, very good at concealing her thoughts and plans.

Weaknesses: Naturally weak from several years of being fed too little and worked too much. Tends to not volunteer information – or, actually, speak at all – unless she is told to, especially not after landing herself in the dungeon.

[User]
Elena coughed weakly as she came back to her senses. The moment she coughed, she regretted it, of course, as pain shot along her bruised ribs. What had... what had happened?

The girl groaned weakly and opened her eyes to try and get a sense of where she was. Of course, that accomplished nothing -- everything stayed just as dark. Clumsily she brought her hand up to the side of her face, patting at her eyes to make sure there was no blindfold. Of course there wasn't. Lovely. That meant she was either blind or in a pitch-dark room.

She sat up, hands scrabbling on the rough stone floor, wincing as her head spun from not having any sort of visual stimulus. Internally she was panicking about not being able to see but kept her mouth shut while she scrambled to get her thoughts back together. Flashes of the things that had happened the day before flickered through her mind. Sneaking down the stairs with the torch and food during the changing of the guard. Throwing rolls, hard cheese, dried pork into the cells. Then something had come up behind her and... snarled. Causing her to go tumbling down the rest of the steps. Then nothing... she must have hit her head.

She guessed she was now in the dungeons. With... with criminals. With the slaves who'd gone violent, the thieves and the arsonists and traitors and murderers.

Well, that's lovely. She prayed to her gods that she was in a cell with a thief or some petty criminal, then said, "Hello?" The word came out as little more than a rasp, but hopefully enough to get the attention of whomever she was sharing with.

[Assistant]
It had been a long time since Eric had heard another human voice. He turned toward the sound, though it made no difference as the cell was black as pitch.
 "Yes?"
 He made an attempt so speak, but it only came out as a hoarse whisper. He made an attempt to sit up, his muscles feeling raw from inactivity. Years of hopelessness affecting his body.

 "Just a second."
 After searching his worn tunic for a few seconds, he found what he was looking for, he had kept it hidden for Five years. A magic ring. He had never used it, as he often had no need for light, took it out and slipped it onto his hand. The ring began to glow faintly, just enough for Eric to see the girl, fear in her eyes. He recognized her, as she would come down into the dungeon on occasion and offer him food. Her kindness had gotten her sent to the depths.

 Eric smiled in an attempt to reassure Elena, but his appearance didn't help.
 "Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you," He said, holding out his hand, "My name is Eric, what's yours?"