[System]
The Mundane
Age: 17

Sanctum City: Hasta

Description: Nicole is a girl of average height, a slender build, and irrepressible good cheer to cram inside it. Blue-eyed and always grinning, her sharp features are framed by scarlet hair, cut fashionably to the bottom of her neck with bangs that occasionally fall into her eyes.

Hasta is one of the world's most fashionable Sanctum Cities, with all but its poorest denizens dressed beautifully in casual, flowing fashions and bright colors. Nicole is no exception, although she does her best to dress fashionably casual. Whether oversized hoodies or cropped tops, tight jeans or her school uniform's skirt, one of her only sartorial mainstays is the peach colored tassel scarf she's almost always thrown haphazardly around her neck. Sometimes she'll top her head in a cute little beret.

Personality: A laid-back and cheerful girl who always tries her best at everything. Nicole may not be the most zealous fighter or the most charismatic presence, but she's a stabilizing force among what may otherwise be a chaotic ensemble of students. She exudes a quiet calm about most things, a playful energy often expelled through practical jokes, and a willingness to laugh at herself and others. She's grown up into a fairly privileged life and tries to keep that knowledge in the back of her mind, so it allows her some measure of empathy for other girls who may not have had it as easy as she did. It makes her a solid, unifying presence among friend groups and just a generally good time to be around.

Though she plays it close to the chest, Nicole is a deeply idealistic, romantic girl, with notions of true love and eternal good vibes that she tries not to espouse too often. She has a headful of dreams about some kind of nebulous "better life," although what that life would be like and how it would be an improvement over her own free-flowing existence is something she hasn't quite figured out.

Background: Nicole was born among the upper middle class of the beautiful, fashionable, (sort of) sunny Sanctum City of Hasta. One of the cultural capitals of the world, her childhood was cosmopolitan and largely peaceful, with a large pool of friends across all walks of life. Her parents did what they could to shelter her through much of her childhood, but they were politically active people, often taking up the causes of the downtrodden and unfortunate who were unable to share in Hasta's joys. Eventually, as she grew older, Nicole came to share their passion for altruism.

For a time, like most girls, she dreamed that she was a secret princess - some long-lost member of a Duodecim family, someone who could achieve great heights and make a difference in a scary world. Eventually, she had given up on that dream and resolved to make change in meaningful, realistic ways somehow. It was realizing her magical potential at the age of thirteen that helped give her a sense of wonder again, made her dream of stopping Voids and serving as a paragon for all the world's helpless - someone with the power to make people listen.

Having decided her dream was worth pursuing once again, in a decidedly more fantastical direction this time, Nicole applied to Nova Lux Academy with stars in her eyes, and was overjoyed to be accepted.

---

The Magic
Armgaus Name: Twinkling Scarlet Emerald

Gladius:
Vedfolnir
A blued steel sabre balanced to Nicole's hand, with a small, polished chunk of red beryl at the hilt. Its size belies the potential reach of the blade, as combined with her Elementum Nicole's slashes can seem to extend three times longer than the length of the blade would suggest.

Parma: Nicole's eyes and hair glow a brighter orange, her skin begins to twinkle slightly, and she wears an all-white ensemble of her normal beret, a midriff baring top and shorts, with thigh high boots and a holster.

Elementum: Wind

Elementum Abilities:  In keeping with her elementum and her own breezy personality, Nicole has a great degree of agility and levity, often joking that she can dodge any attack thrown at her as long as she's not feeling lazy. It may not be an entirely empty boast; though not a particular powerhouse, her agility makes her a capable duelist with her sabre. She can also use her ability to make great leaps, bordering on sustained flight if she can keep her concentration - although doing so obviously limits her effectiveness in combat.

[User]
---

"Hopefully the next exercise won't try to kill us like the real thing," Penny mutters under breath. She takes a deep breath as she approaches them.

"Ahem," she clears her throat. "Hi, uh... anyone... care to dance...?"

"Ow sh-" Penny starts when Dima steps on her foot again, before she bites her tongue, trying to keep from swearing at a formal event. "Sorry, I have no idea how to waltz-"

She pulls back awkwardly when she accidentally steps on his foot yet again.

"Ah cr- uh, sorry about that..." she mutters. She almost misses his question.

"What? Oh, er, sure, you're... you're free to ask," she begins. "Just... try not to ask personal questions 'kay?

"In the shows? Sorry about that, I'm still kinda new. Been a couple months 'round here, so haven't been on any missions yet.

"Though what kind of shows do you watch?" she asks curiously. "Ah, actually, forget I even brought it up...

"Powers? Well, pretty much lightning-based. Haven't mastered the 'shoot lightning' bit yet, but I can charge my attacks with lightning for some real damage. I can also charge my own body with it, don't ask how that works. It works great at parties though; I can light lamps with my fingers and do the joybuzzer trick without needing a joybuzzer!"

[Assistant]
---

Dana frowned when she heard the annoyance in Penny's voice. "Hey, I was only messin' around!" the Norban protested. "I mean, you are really fun to tease, but I didn't wanna make ya feel uncomfortable or anything, honest! I just thought that ya might have a bit more fun if ya opened up a little and got to know some of the other people here. And let's face it," she added with a grin. "You're kinda a celebrity, so I'm sure they'll wanna get to know you!"

Soon enough, the pair had reached the trio of young men. Incidentally, and much to Dana's amusement, the officer cadets seemed just as nervous as Penny, but after introductions had been made, the tallest of their number managed to muster up the courage to ask Penny for a dance. Dana, meanwhile, received an invitation from a cadet who, although slightly shorter, was far more massive. Noah, the cadet in question, presented a stark contrast to the rather diminutive Dana, and the pair made quite the incongruous sight as they moved about the dance floor. Thankfully, both seemed to have enough dancing ability to keep things from becoming too awkward.

"My parents made me learn how to dance a little," Noah explained. "But it's been a while."

"That's cool," Dana observed. "And you're doing great! I recently got some lessons from my teammate, Vanna," she added. "So hopefully I shouldn't mess up too badly," the cheerful Norban giggled.

Noah went on to say that he, too, hailed from Norba, which made Dana's smile grow even wider. "Wow, really? That's awesome! And yeah, it's kinda crazy to think how far away from home we are," she added. "But I don't really mind it all that much. I mean, being chosen as an Ars Magi and gettin' to come to Nova Lux is like somethin' right outta my favorite stories and shows, a real adventure! How about you?" she asked her muscular partner. "Have ya been enjoyin' your time here so far?"

[User]
---

"So, Dima," Penny continues, trying not so much dance as wobble around in one place. "Where're you from? What's your home like, and do you miss it? What do they teach you at the Academy, and do you like it there?

"Going back to what you said about being an Ars Magi... I'd be lying if the shows didn't help me make up my mind. So far, it's been a bit routine, but there have been... interesting tests. Being an Ars Magi can be pretty exhilarating, at least to me. It's like... I dunno, I feel like I can just cut loose, do things nobody else can, really take it to the limit. The funny thing is, I'm not even an adrenaline junkie, or at least I wasn't before I got here. I just... wanted to help protect the people and things I care for..."

[Assistant]
Nicole was a little flummoxed by Cordelia's dancing at first. She'd always been fantastic on her feet, sure, but her expertise in that area came from years of floundering in mosh pits or bouncing up and down, working up a sweat beneath the disorienting strobes of Hasta's club scene. They were different beasts than something as elegant as this waltz, and girls like their new teammate weren't usually the kind of guys or girls Nicole was pressed up against in the writhing throngs of partiers at home. The social aspects of this whole affair - helping all the girls look their fashionable, neomilitaristic best, helping them with what to say to mingle, maybe some winks at the fellas and some compliments for the girls - she could nail. But like at a club, there was always the anxiety that she could roll an ankle and completely eat shit while trying to look sophisticated.

Cordelia's whispering might have gone a long way in that regard, but she felt the noble-born girl taking the lead in their dance and decided to cede control to her for the first phase of their dance. Her words made Nicole think of Astrelle again with a twinge - it was hard to believe that her roommate had disappeared in the night the way she had, or been reassigned away from them. Had her family pulled some strings at her own insistence to get her pulled out? Was that even possible at this point? Had she struck someone a little too closely for comfort with her conspiratorial mindset?

"But that won't happen with me. I'm here to stay. Please count on me."

"Ha." The storm cloud over Nicole's head broke, and the redhead grinned impishly at the new girl's oath of loyalty. "Alright, roomie. I've got your back, you got mine. Score."

The waltz brought them closer together; she felt the gems inset in their navels touch like the tines of forks, sending a tingle through her body that sent her teeth burrowing into her lip.

"Would you like to try taking the lead, darling?"

Nicole laughed aloud and decided to give the second phase of their dance a whirl; thankfully, the song was a bit livelier, and as with many casual applications Nicole found herself more graceful and fearless when performing precise movements. It was as though she was now permanently in her element, fleet-footed and incapable of falling. It felt fantastic. After a while, even waltzing did too. She was about to ask Cordelia if she was into a drink when someone tapped her new teammate on the shoulder and offered to take her - Nicole Cognoscenti, perennially friendzoned just a month ago - off Cordelia's hands. She looked the girl offering to trade out Cordelia's place in their waltz - exotic-looking, with eyes that twinkled and hair that drank in the light around them. Nicole looked over to her own partner and felt her heart lurch slightly at his appearance - golden-skinned, amber-eyed, serious and surly, so like her own childhood best friend she had seen off with a knuckle touch. For a second she was tempted to run over to him and double-check it wasn't him in disguise, trying to fuck with her a little; she wanted to quiz him about weapons, music, or mocking passers-by based on their appearance, all favorite pastimes of his. She remembered the last time she had seen him, in the soft shadows, hazy lights, and pouring rain at the top of the White Tower. Jericho's hair had been plastered over his face, the color of dark chocolate with midnight streaks, and a single streak of crimson that he so carefully and regularly dyed. He chewed on the soaking-wet ends as he wished her goodbye.

She searched this cadet's hair; there was not a single trace of red. She felt bad for sizing him up like a replacement puppy. He was handsome, incredibly so, but he wasn't quite material for bumping fists in the courtyard.

She giggled, both out of amusement that she was being so heavily courted and from imagining how her torch song would be reacting to her attitude right now.

Goddamn it, Nicole. All the girls in the world who are capable of saving it, and the gods pick the one that thinks every boy from Osca looks alike. You're a danger to yourself and humanity in this shape. If I could go back in time ten years I would throw you from the monkey bars and save us all.

Ohhhh, yeah, she could hear him loud as day. That probably just proved her subconscious point - which meant it was worth taking under advisory. She grinned at the girl so gallantly offering to take her off Cordelia's hands, and outstretched her own to the almond-eyed cadet.

"I'd love to, babe," she said amiably, with a similar twinkle to her own partner's in her eye. "Nicole Cognoscenti - Hasta Vice."


[System]
Age: 29

Country of origin: Scottish-American

Native language and accent in English: English with a neutral spoken accent, knows how to speak and write some Scottish Gaelic

Appearance: A large, stocky man at 6'1 with a broad yet lithe and supple body, Fearghas presence is rather dominating when he applies himself. His musculature is defined from hours spent fencing, swimming, and rock climbing, paring down much of the fat on his body. Despite his size, Fearghas's features themselves are rather plain as people go. His face is gaunt, with blue eyes sunken slightly into the face, shoulder-length hair that he normally keeps back with a band topping his head. Personal beauty is not of importance to him but he keeps himself respectable nonetheless. His face is lined by a thin beard. Normally, he wears unassuming clothes, neither scruffy nor refined. At the time of his arrival, he is wearing a pair of climbing shorts, a breathable synthetic shirt, a pair of sturdy all-purpose shoes, climbing gloves, and a helmet and harness, along with his backpack.

Strengths: Physically adept in a variety of skills, able outdoorsman. Some knowledge of physics. Decent fencer if only recreationally. Good craftsman.

Weaknesses: Soft-spoken, although not an isolationist. Not very good at diplomacy. Disillusioned and will sometimes make rash or spiteful decisions. Some troubles controlling his temper. Somewhat alcoholic.

Possessions: Wind-up watch, two-days worth of energy bars, water, and beef jerky, 150 feet of nylon rope, a sleeping bag, small bag of personal hygeine items with toothbrush, toothpaste, comb, and deoderant, hatchet, box of matches, fold-up saw, a wallet with a driver's license, twenty dollars in cash, loose change, and two pictures of outings with his friends, pocket knife. Beanbags. Because reasons.

[User]
*Posting Note: Due to facilitate easy writing Kjartan's thoughts will be in plain English, his speech accented"

Kjartan Reinhølt

Blue eyes blinked groggily at the sky, and then squinted fiercely at the sunlight that danced across the scarred face. Kjartan was intensely aware of how much his head hurt and threw a muscled arm across his eyes to block out the sun all the while muttering under his breath. It took him a moment, perhaps it was the hang over, he wasn't sure, but he was suddenly aware of the smell of crushed earth and grass, and the unmistakable sensation of damp turf beneath his bare back and shoulders.

An idle thought flashed through his head as he lifted it slightly so that he could see through a narrow slit between his arm and his cheek, the lads would never let him live this down if he'd passed out on the rugby pitch. He was flat on his back, right knee in the air, kilt falling around his waist and he supposed it was a good thing he was wearing rugby shorts underneath or he'd be showing the world "the goods".

Through the gap he could now see a pair of tight blue jeans and black boots. Whoever this person was happened to be facing away from him and he smiled slightly at the curve of her backside as it strained against the jeans. He'd certainly woken up with less attractive women and not been able to remember the night, his initial concern was if he'd used protection or not, I he already had a half dozen illegitimate children running around the Commonwealth nations.

The thought was abruptly cut off as the person of his attention began to talk to someone else nearby and he raised his head some more to see a pathetic looking little fellow on the grass. His gaze shifted to the right and he saw more people. Now he was confused. He laid his head back down on the grass with a slight groan, maybe if he went back to sleep they would all be gone by the time he woke up and he wouldn't have to speak with any of them. That would probably be best. Yes, he'd do that.

His eyes flew open quite suddenly. He'd been at a fund raiser, now he remembered, and it hadn't been just ANY field he'd been on. It was a Team Scotland fund raiser and the team had been at Balmoral Castle to meet the Queen. He'd been one of the first selected to meet her because of his military service. Now he was worried he had passed out on the grounds of the castle. He sat up abruptly, his head spinning so hard he almost vomited. For a horrifying moment he thought he would but it passed swiftly and he staggered to his feet, eyes racing around as he turned quickly about him. No castle. No guards. In fact, beyond the people lying about in the grass with him, there was no one he knew at all.

"Thank ze gods..." He muttered out loud and allowed himself to sink into a crouch, head in his hands.

[Assistant]
Justin Beiber, the one whose backside the man had been admiring, turned around with a shining smile.

"You're welcome."

[User] Doctor I feel you, Doc, but you gotta learn how to spell your own character's name right. (Maybe hijack some other RPs while you're at it, eh? Maybe less serious ones with players who'll actually appreciate it?)

[Assistant]
Fearghas's face itched. A haze filled his thoughts, a darkness his eyes, and grit his mouth. He attempted to spit and eject the offending material from his tongue but his body would not respond. Neither could he raise a hand to relieve the itch on his face which he had determined to be grass. His mind registered no threat or unusual situation despite his apparent paralysis, focused instead entirely on the fact that there were unwanted plants and minerals invading his face.

A burning began to form in Fearghas's body, somewhere below his head. Each second made the pain increase in intensity and size, spreading up and down his form. Noise broke his reverie and his lungs opened along with his mouth, air rushing in to resucitate him before lack of oxygen knocked him unconscious. Quick, soft gasps escaped his lips, accompanied by a shuddering all across his body. The presence that had been clouding his mind cleared, leaving Fearghas in a lucid state.

He screamed, a deep-throated yell of primal fear, hands scrabbling around him as he rolled. In panic for a couple of seconds, his mind slowly came to the realization that he was not about to die. He wasn't falling. But the last memory he had was that of hanging of a cliff face. What the hell is going on?

Lifting his pained head to glance around him, Fearghas saw that he was in a prairie with several other people, seeming to be in a similar state of confusion. Scrabbling backwards, he trampled a hard object, turning to see that it was his backpack. Eyes crinkled as he tried to affirm that assumption. Slowly opening the bag, he found that a good number of the items inside were damaged in some way, mostly the food-stuffs. Yes, this was his. Returning his attention to the others, he waited, uncertain as to what to do.

[User]
Raphael seldom had trouble falling to sleep but this night was different. He assumed it was because of the excitement he would experience the next day. Everything was in place; his mother had prepared her meals, his coworkers would have the office space decorated for the occasion and even his young daughter had been given the task of screaming "CONGRATULATIONS" when he returned home. So why was he having so much trouble sleeping? One could guess that blame belonged to his meticulous nature, but he had gone over all the details time and again and everything was in place. Coming to this conclusion he attempted to rest once again, the fatigue making his eyes heavy, the excitement making his mind spin.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed but he soon found himself staring blankly at the wall, the sound of his television barely audible and his sleep ever elusive. Shaking himself, he stood from his bed and glanced around his room. A stiff stretch and dragging steps brought him to his desk where a bit of his reading material sat. He took the seat in his chair and double checked the contents of his bag for the next day. He knew it was all present, he had checked twice before, but decided to look again.

Raphael couldn't tell you when it happened, hell he wasn't entirely sure he had ever gone to sleep, but it seemed like a split second later he was prone on his back and his eyes closed. As consciousness crept back into him a slight smile emerged onto his face. This is it. This is the day that he had planned so long and hard for. Slowly he opened his eyes and instantly knew something had gone wrong. The picture in front of him was an unfamiliar scene.

Instantly panic gripped him and he felt his pulse quicken, his breaths shallow and worried.

"Relax", he thought to himself, unsure of what his next move should be. He began to focus on breathing, separating his lips slightly and sending his exhaling breaths through and inhaling through his nostrils. His thoughts turned to his daughter and instinctively his right hand reached for the shining silver necklace locket.

"Everything will be fine."

Raphael sat up, dizziness threatening nausea. "Oh, what happened," he spoke out loud in a dry rasp. When he looked up, he noticed something that almost set him off again. He wasn't alone. No there were others and they all looked as if they were having similar experiences of confusion.

"Seven. There are seven including yourself. he thought as he scanned all the strangers. "Who are they, I wonder? Why are we all here?

He eyed them all with a sharp eye as he noticed his bag lying next to him and pulled it closer. He wasn't sure what to do next but think logically and so he stood and uneasily addressed the others.

"Hey, I'm Ralph. I don't recognize any of you, except her." He said quietly as he pointed to the Spanish looking lady. He knew he had seen her face in various places when spending time with his girlfriend and daughter. Maybe a magazine or runway show? "So, I'm very confused as to why I am here. Does anyone want to answer that?"

[Assistant]
At first there was relief. Relief that the person she was shaking was in fact alive and breathing. Then there was surprise as more and more people shifted and awoke and none of them seemed to be Bulgarian. Then again, hadn't she herself just spoken English? Why?

Confused and dizzy, Raya stared at the boy in front of her, taking in his red hair, his accent and his flaming hair. He was asking questions she couldn't answer. She hated not having answers so she really did struggle trying to get some, but none came. She couldn't even remember how she got here, let alone where this "here" is.

Then another woman interjected and said it's ridiculous she didn't have answers. Raya felt inclined to believe but the woman's tone and her ridiculously polished appearance made her brow twitched.

"Do you know where we are?" Looking at her, Raya assumed if this is a kidnapping attempt this woman would have been the target to begin with. The pretty woman just humped at her and started browsing in her handbag. Raya got up and reached out for the Irish-looking boy in front of her to help him up. As people awoke they were asking questions or muttering to themselves, and all were different but all seeming equally confused.

A black boy was the first to introduce himself and note that he didn't recognise anyone but the pretty woman. Raya didn't recognise her but as everyone started introducing themselves she realised she'd heard the name. The woman was famous for… whatever. And of course, she had an iPhone. And of course, that was out of coverage.

"So… where are you all from?" Raya asked, trying to figure out the task at hand. The answers painted a very confusing picture. Two Americans, two people from the British Isles, one girl from France, one from Spain and herself. What the hell? And apparently they all seemed to last remember being in their home-towns, nowhere close to each other.

Renata snapped her out of her thoughts with a loud announcement that this is all utterly crazy and that she's "going". She took off towards the woods with the other girl falling in toe silently. Raya threw them a worried glance, hoping they would be alright but was too shy to try and stop them. She looked over the rest of them, all guys. Her mouth felt dry.

"Well… There's probably no use sitting around…." unless this is a mine-field she thought and shuddered. "…. So should we split up and explore the vicinity?" She suggested helplessly. There was no light-pollution around, no road, nothing. She spotted a tall tree a few hundred meters to the right and thought it might be a good idea to use it to get a better vantage point. "I'll try to climb that and look around." She suggested, throwing everyone a nervous glance. She wasn't especially trusting so being stranded in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of strangers was more than unnerving but she was doing a good job at keeping the panic at bay so far. She just hoped it lasted.


[System]
Age: 23
Civil clothes: Thief Clothing (see bottom)
Thief clothes: He tends to wear leather armor lined with chainmail and a long dark cloak. He also tends to wear a long red scarf.
Weapon: Long sword
Tools: Lockpicking tools, daggers, razor wire
Bio: TBR
Not important info: Swift and acrobatic, excellent with a sword and dagger, natural pickpocket, and incredibly stealthy.

[User]
Kalardia's capital city, Ivek.

Night was started to fall once again over Ivek, some stars were already visible and the streets started to get crowded, the people could enjoy the fresh air of the night after a hot day of work, the merchants took this opportunity to make more money and so lowered the price of their products, children ran across the streets playing hide-and-seek or with balls made of leather while some adults yelled at them worried they may cause an accident.
The guards looked at everyone who passed by suspiciously.

Hotarubi was in the square, leaning against a tree, with a sweet smile on her face she watched the children play without worries.

"I'd love to see everyone was this happy..."

She told herself, watching children play was what she enjoyed the most, however there was a job to do that night, Hotarubi was wearing her thief clothes under her kimono, ready for the mission, but was not the time yet.

[Assistant] Deep inside of one of Kalardia's most grandest towers, a cloaked shadow moved swiftly in the twinkling moonlight. There was nothing on his form to make him noticeable, although his face - grim, scowling, and slightly symboled was evident. A length of parchment - a document written in golden ink - was skillfully folded and placed within a hidden pouch on his leg. As he dashed passed a guard, the cloaked shadow suddenly leaped up like a crow, disappearing out of the Tower's top floor without a sound. If one looked up at the night-sky, they would see a long, sharp, dark purple and black crow gliding through the air. A bit more concentration would show that the giant crow was, in fact, a human.

[User]
Hilda let out a small huff as she carried a hefty crate filled with spices. She had been consuming her time all evening with aiding a merchant whom had just received his goods from a foreign country. The young woman usually spent her days as such just to have a small amount of pocket money to roam about with. Though she did receive pay from picking off enemies, she did dabble a little in peasant life to make just a little more for herself and others if needed.

"There you are my boy!" The old merchant patted Hilda's back as she set the crate down in front of him. "You've been working hard all day, I hope this isn't troubling."
Hild shook her head in reply and wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her cotton blouse.
"Here you are, take a little extra for being such a hard worker. You'll be quite a fitting man." The merchant placed a few coins in the palm of the presumed male's hand and wandered back into his shop, leaving Hilda to finish off her day.

She shoved the coins into a small leather pouch holstered onto her hip and sauntered off. Her figure had disappeared into a looming spot in the alleyway and just as suddenly her armored silhouette had shimmied up walls and stood up on the roof.

[Assistant] Mason walked quietly down the streets. Her pink kimono felt tights around her but mainly due to her wearing her bright colored fighting gear beneath her kimono. She was heading towards where she had hid the rest of her supplies for the red haired girl had a job to do. She hated her hair being up in it's stupid bun but she did it for the sake of disguise.

[User]
Fleur snuck up behind Hilda, before suddenly clasping the woman's shoulder. "Busy watching, I see?" Fleur giggled. She was dressed in her thief clothes, with a bag slung across her shoulder. "I just got away with some gold myself. It won't be long before everyone is on alert" Her giggling continued. She had woken up with a spark to do her duty and to make the poor happier.

"What have you done today?" She felt in the mood for a good brag, she took a deep breath and stretched.

[Assistant]
Simbad walked through the crowd timing his movement with the rich looking merchant behind him and then suddenly stopped. As soon as the merchant bumped into him Simbad whirled around and got up into his face while simultaneously ripping the mans coin purse from his belt and shoving him. As always the rapid input of pushes left the poor merchant bewildered and totally unaware of his unfortunate loss, "Watch where you're going money bags." Simbad spat at the man disdainfully at the man the weapon at his belt keeping the man from arguing and walked away leaving him confused and a bit less wealthy. He quickly turned down an alleyway and looked at the loot he got, more than his usual pulls, this would be able to feed him for at least a couple weeks.

As he glanced around he saw the red-headed girl in the pink kimono, Mason was her name, walking somewhere purposefully. Curious to see what she was up to he stalked her carefully keeping someone between them and several feet back.

[User] Evanglina leans up against an alleyway near the square. She looks across the way and sees Hotarubi standing there quietly. Evanglina smiles, running her sharpening stone against one of her katanas. Her black wig hair fell in front of her face and she brushes it out of the way furiously. She hates the wig, but she has to keep it on in order to keep her secret. She looks at Hotarubi, waiting for her signal to go whenever she does. Hotarubi is still in her civilian clothing and Evanglina rolls her eyes. She wouldn't stay in her civilian clothing. Not this night at least.

[Assistant]
Vallyn stared at his own left hand for the longest time, staring at the alabaster skin with a scrutinizing gaze. Every time he looked at his hands, all he saw were bloodstains. His entire life had been spent on revenge, and those around him had suffered fates worse than death. Allies, enemies, passerbies. They all died. The young man had remembered the King collecting him and the others for a task, the building of the guild, three months after his incarceration. "A chance to atone," Vallyn muttered to himself, clasped in the deepest shadows of the sewers. "Though will these acts ever clean these hands of mine?" The thief lamented.

Dropping from his perch in the sewer, he landed upon the walkway with practiced grace and made his way towards the ladder. Like a spider, he managed his way up the rungs and slowly, and as silently as he could, removed the lid to the sewer. Propping himself out and quietly replacing the lid, Vallyn hastily made his way to the next shadow and followed it in the utmost silence.

There was a job to do, after all.


[System]
Friendship Gem Tracker:
Stargaze, the Orphan (played by @Guardian Angel Haruki): ♦♦
Skobeloff, the Trickster (played by @rush99999):
♦♦
Fellwing, the Seer (played by @Vertigo): ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Shieldwing, the Warrior (played by @Digizel): ♦ ♦ ♦

---

NPCs:
Pronouns: He/him

Species: Dragon

Age: Bearded Dragon

House: House Tessith

Colour: Royal yellow

Moons: Stone, Liberty

Looks:
- Large curled horns
- Thick scales
- Icy blue eyes with slit pupils
- Long, wrinkled snout with crocodile-like teeth
- Bat-like wings, each tipped with an extra 'claw'
- Clubbed tail
- Bulky body

Description: Soon to be named an Elder dragon and take his place on the Council, Garrock is simultaneously smug about the superiority his age grants him and mournful of his lost youth. He was once a member of a pilgrimage clutch of decent repute called the Dawnfire Clutch, but while the rest of his comrades moved on to form new clutches, Garrock chose to remain solo and has prided himself on his self-sufficiency ever since. He dislikes relying on others to solve his problems, especially those younger than himself, and has been known to have a particularly sharp and cruel tongue when forced to interact with clutches of drakes.

Name: Fogdance

Pronouns: She/her

Species: Dragon

Age: Bearded Dragon

House: House Tessith

Colour: Silver

Moons: Spirit, Stone

Looks:
- Hornless, has two small fins on the side of her head
- Pale grey scales speckled with darker greys
- Large, indigo eyes that always appear somewhat teary
- Short, rounded snout, resembling a sea turtle
- Large wings that form a crescent-moon shape when spread out

Description: While Garrock may state that House Tessith's tenets encourage independence and self-reliance, there are many dragons within the House of Diamond who interpret 'living simply' as being more community-focused. Fogdance is one such dragon; nurturing by nature, she is one of the teachers and caregivers for Tessith's drakes, and has been recognized even by the mentors of House Semscale for her patience and diligence. However, beneath her gentle exterior, there is something frail and somber within the older dragon that many glimpse, but very few truly understand. After all, how can someone surrounded by so much love be so sad?

Name: Alpin

Pronouns: He/him

Species: Brownie

Age: Young Adult

Looks:
- Scrawny, with very thin, pointed features
- Covered in wiry ginger hair
- Outfits often include a hat and a scarf, and favour muted greens and browns colourwise

Description: Alpin is seen as something of the village idiot among the brownies of his island: lovable and ultimately harmless, yes, but with very little sense between his ears. How true this opinion is and how aware Alpin is of his fellow brownie's judgements is up in the air, as while he seems pretty oblivious most of the time, there are moments where he demonstrates a keen perceptiveness and an understanding of things deeper than his peers.

Name: Bartley

Pronouns: They/them

Species: Brownie

Age: Elderly

Looks:
- Chubby
- Beady eyes and large, drooping ears
- Covered in brown hair that is fading to grey
- Wears tiny, half-moon spectacles
- Has a fondness for old shirts and trousers, with very little variation

Description: An older brownie with a love for tinkering and crafting, Bartley prefers the company of one or two friends at a time as opposed to large groups, and likes to keep their hands busy with a project even while in conversation. They have a very short, blunt manner of speaking that can some time come off as rude to those unfamiliar with them, but in truth, Bartley is just shy and not always sure how to best express themselves.

Name: Tamba

Pronouns: She/her

Species: Dragon

Age: Rawscale Drake

House: House Myndoth

Colour: Pastel green

Moons: All

Looks:
- Antler-like horns
- Soft, pastel green scales with splashes of orange and yellow
- Large purple eyes
- Feather tipped wings and tail
- Chubby, rounded body
- Wears round spectacles

Description: For a drake so young, Tamba is considered extremely well-read. She's rarely found outside of Myndoth's libraries, and is capable to memorizing reciting whole passages from the books she studied. However, when it comes to socializing, she's far less adept, and tends to either talk far too much or far too little with no in-between.

Name: Pleexem

Pronouns: He/him

Species: Dragon

Age: Rawscale Drake

House: House Tessith

Colour: Lilac

Moons: All

Looks:
- Gazelle-like horns
- Soft lilac scales with pastel green splotches
- Large bluish-green eyes
- Feather tipped wings and tail

Description: Tamba's twin and current clutchmate, Pleexem makes his sister look like a daredevil by comparison. He's afraid of pretty much everything and everyone, save for Tamba and some older dragons in House Tessith, and is rarely seen without his sister by his side.

Name: Echo

Pronouns: She/her

Species: Elemental (mixed: wood, water and earth)

Age: Unknown

Looks:
- Humanoid torso
- Translucent greenish-brown skin with bioluminescent gold freckles
- Long bluish-green hair resembling leaves of a willow tree
- Eel tail in place of legs

Description: Echo is a very enigmatic being, even by the standards of elementals. She's implied to much older and more powerful than she appears, and like the dryads who tend to the dragons' hatchery, may have access to knowledge beyond. This knowledge is probably why she chose to take care of Stargaze after the drake's egg somehow found its way into her case, and also why she eventually drove the drake away.

Name: Kyte

Pronouns: They/them

Species: Dragon

Age: Winged Drake

House: House Semscale

Colour: Peach

Moons: Liberty, Spirit, Storm, Void

Looks:
- Hornless, with 'winged' ears
- Pale orange scales that fade to pink, like the sky at dawn
- Round, hawk-like golden eyes
- Long, bird-like legs ending in sharp talons
- Small bumps above nose and down their back
- Very thin

Description: Originally belonging to a different pilgrimage clutch, circumstances have lead to Kyte being placed with the younger Tamba and Pleexem. As such, they've taken on an 'older sibling' roll to their new clutchmates, not as a leader but in that they're willing to do whatever it takes to keep their friends safe, even if it puts themself at risk.

[User]
Skobeloff

"Whoa!" Skobeloff exclaimed as he was glomped by Tamba.

"Thank the moons, a friendly face at last!" Tamba exclaimed in kind as she glomped Skobeloff.

"I'm glad to see you as well, Tamba." Skobeloff said happily.

"Careful, Tamba," The other drake spoke up then. "For all we know, he could be corrupted too!"

"Oh, you're right!" Tamba said before letting go of Skobeloff and stepping back to examine him. "Hmm, it's actually hard to tell in this light, gimme a sec."

"...It's been three seconds already, Tamba. What's the hold up?" Skobeloff said with a cheeky grin after three seconds of silence as he watched Tamba call upon the moons for light.

"Well, at least it's something," Tamba said as a small mote of light flickered into existence on her claw. "Do you know how tricky the moons have been since we've got here? I've been barely able to do any magic. Not sure if it's because of the Darkness being present on this island or simply because we're in a shaded area. Now, if you'll just..."

"Of course." Skobeloff complied as he allowed Tamba to check for any sign that Skobeloff was also his Shadowself.

"He seems alright. No wierd black veins OR any change in his colouration." Tamba said to her fellow prisoner once she had confirmed that Skobeloff was untouched by the Shadows.

"If you say so," The other drake muttered as he approached. "You know him better than I do, after all."

"So what's been going on here exactly?" Skobeloff asked. "Why is Fogdance so obsessed with keeping everyone safe? How did things get to the point where the Darkness managed to claim her for its own ends?"

[Assistant]
Stargaze

Stargaze answers Alpin, "Hi Alpin! It's nice to meet you. I'm Stargaze! Echo raised me on this island," She then apologizes, "Sorry for startling you like that. Fellwing is able to have these really cool visions, and she must have seen you in one of them,"

She continues "Oh, right! Thank you for helping us out of that mess! We're trying to get to Echo and see what's going on with Home,"


[System]
Formerly Igarashi Kaito

Nicknames/Titles:
Much to his horror, the goblins of the Claybitah Tribe have come to know him as the 'Brainy Gob'.

Gender:
Male

Age:
Current age: Four
Age of death in Japan: Seventeen

Species:
Goblin

Original World (Where they reside in the real world):
Osaka, Japan

social status:
Offishal Thinkah Gob of the Claybitah Tribe

Appearance:
Standing at a solid 3'7", Chatak is a just a little taller than the standard goblin. Something about the way his face is built generally seems to make him look like he's either angry or scheming, even though in reality he's probably legitimately trying to be friendly.

Personality:
Chatak, despite how he may come across, is not actually a particularly brave person. Not now as a goblin, not before as a human, never. In fact, he is the kind of person who would rather avoid conflict if possible. He is also very much the type of person who wants to make life as easy for himself as possible, although trying to actually achieve this unfortunately tends to mean he has to make his life significantly harder in the short term, and then hope to god that it all works out and makes it easier once he's done. Of course, if there's one thing he wants even less than a hard life for himself, it would be to make things hard for other people in the process, and while he definitely doesn't see himself as one, many could consider him a legitimately altruistic person.

Oddly enough, being a goblin doesn't seem to bother him as much as one might expect. Sure, the fact that his chances of dying from any number of horrific circumstances before the age of twenty are somewhere around ninety-eight percent isn't great, but the awful reputation goblins have isn't really that new to him. People thought he was some sort of scary, violent person they needed to avoid even when he was a human, so it's nothing new really. He'll still keep himself disguised while in most settlements of course, but it's less out of sadness and more out of fear.

Backstory:
Due to an unfortunate quirk of genetics, Kai was always a pretty scary-looking kid. Every look was a glare, every smile was a grimace, and every word he said came out sounding more like a pissed off growl than an actual attempt to connect to people. Naturally, this led to other kids picking fights with him, which only made his growing reputation worse, and eventually he just started trying to avoid them altogether or escape them with clever distractions and schemes. He actually managed to get pretty good at it too! Still though, in the end, just not getting involved in fights anymore didn't do a whole lot to make knowing that pretty much every non-family member who knew about him thought he was a violent thug any easier. Slowly, over the course of a few months, he started to show his face in public less and less, until eventually he was all but a complete shut in by the time he turned seventeen.

Despite all this though, he hadn't completely given up on living a normal life, even if he had to set it aside for now. Instead, he focussed on improving his talents in the areas he was passionate about, specifically cooking. If he worked hard enough, maybe he could move to another city like Tokyo, put this past and reputation behind him, and make a fresh start there working as a chef. His parents encouraged this idea, just glad that he actually had a plan of some sort rather than just becoming a NEET.

Of course, he couldn't exactly blame them for worrying about that. After all, he did share a lot of the usual neet hobbies. When he wasn't cooking, his life was mostly taken up by games, anime, light novels, or anything else that might briefly catch his interest. The number of hours he wasted looking up random, meaningless things because he read about them in a manga or something and thought 'hey, this could be useful just in case it happens to me' is something he hopes he never has to be faced with.

Because seriously, was he really so dumb that he thought he'd actually get isekai'd or something?

Well, as it turned out, the universe apparently got mixed up and decided to reward Kai for the wrong efforts. He doesn't actually remember what happened to him to bring him to this place. He assumes he died, but he has no idea how it all went down. All he knows now is that when he woke up, he felt very, very weak, and anything he tried to say came out as a high-pitched wail.

A baby.

Somehow, he still retained all his memories and knowledge from his life as Kaito, and although it took a while to actually understand what they were, by the time he was two he had sorted them out well enough that he realised all that useless knowledge he'd gathered was actually pretty damn useful now. Goblins weren't stupid, but their short lives and a mutual distrust between them and the rest of the worlds races meant that things like proper education or an understanding of technology beyond the stone age at best wasn't really a thing. Naturally, he wanted to do what he could for his tribe, so he used the knowledge he obtained as a human to try to improve the lives of his kinsmen as a goblin. Though this had the benefit of making the Claybitah tribe significantly stronger and more stable than it had been previously, it had the unfortunate effect of putting Chatak in the spotlight, with the other goblins considering him to be some kind of prodigy, quite possibly even the smartest of all goblins. As someone who considered his own intelligence to be average at best, this was absolutely terrifying. However, he now found himself stuck as an authority figure of sorts in the tribe, and even the chieftain has acknowledged the importance of his knowledge.

It is for this reason that he has set out from his homeland towards the human territories. Though he'd collected a good amount of basic knowledge on a lot of different subjects during the last years of his life as a human, it could only take the tribe so far. If he wanted to truly help, he needed to learn even more about each and every one of them. At the same time, maybe he could somehow convince a few experts in those fields to return with him, or at the very least improve the image of goblins in the eyes of the other races...

Skills/Talents:
Cooking
Gardening, though he doesn't get much chance to use it nowadays...
Sewing
Scheming
Tinkering
Decent swordsmanship

Powers/Abilities:
Goblin Physiology
Though not exactly a power in the usual sense, Chatak has the same naturally hardy nature as all goblins. Out of necessity, goblins have evolved into surprisingly adaptable survivors, being quite resistant to poor weather and inhospitable environments, able to survive far longer than many other races on significantly less food and water, and a natural resistance to sickness and disease. Their small size also gives them great agility, and their eyes are remarkably good at seeing in the dark, although complete darkness does make them unable to see in colour.

Items:
A sword he created from cockatrice bone.
A long, white coat, and a matching hooded mask to hide his goblin nature while in settlements.
Various pieces of chitin cooking equipment and knives.
A bone needle and some thread.

Other
Has a beloved hyena companion named Patches, who he often uses as a steed or to help carry equipment.

[User]
*Yakeru*

---

---

A soundless darkness. A sudden flash. A silhouette of a man running away. He had seen his face before. Now it was fading away but the eyes, the look they had, remained in his mind. The colour of red on his hands and chest, mixing with rain. No air. Pain. A soundless darkness. A flash of light again. White. An outstretched hand. Pain leaving him. Sleep.

With a sudden and deep gasp for breath, a young man got up from one of the now open coffins. He kept coughing and gasping for air for some time, seemingly oblivious to what was going on around him, paying only attention to himself. His hands quickly moved towards his chest where he had expected to be wound. Strangely there was nothing to see. His eyes wandered over his clothes, his breathing going from fast to a more irregular speed. He did not recognize the clothes he was wearing. Or did he? Vaguely, somewhere in the far reaches of his mind, he remembered seeing them before. Then he suddenly knew.

Feeling the fabric of the tunic for the first time, the outfit he had created and drawn for Yakeru, the hero of his light novel. It almost made him laugh in disbelief. Everything he was wearing was exactly how he had imagined it to be. Even the sword, that was lying next to him. The details were most impressive. His gloved hand touched the steel of the blade and he was surprised it felt warm instead of the expected cold.

Certainly I must be dreaming, right? But I remember getting shot...what happened?

Finally he turned his gaze to the coffin he was sitting in and he scrambled out of it in shock, the smile now gone from his face and his eyes going from bewildered to panicky. Was this some sort of crypt? In the dimly lit room he could make out other coffins against the wall. He swallowed. Did the dream turn into a nightmare? He tried to steady his breathing, calm down but he felt that he couldn't. Sensing he was not alone in the room, he quickly looked around to see if he could spot the person or persons there.

A young woman was standing at the opposite wall, watching him and he sighed a breathe of relief glad to see a friendly face albeit looking as shocked as he probably did.

"Uhm...Hello. Do you...know where we are?" He blinked and put his hand to his mouth. This was not his voice and yet he had spoken with it. Even though his heart was racing still from the slight fear, his voice had not sounded like how he felt but more like the voice of someone who considered all this just a nuissance.

His attention suddenly turned back to the other coffins. What was going on?

[Assistant]
David woke up with a sharp gasp, like he was desperate for a breath of air. Like he was deprived of air, looking around the room wondering what just happened. Last thing he remembered he was home, and now...he was here. Trying to remember his life on earth, what led up to this moment. Wait....he couldnt remember anything. His old life was gone like a blur. He knew his name, it was David, where he used to live and the face of a woman. Was she his mother? Getting out from the coffin, cursing as his legs gave out. Wondering how long he was passed out for. Looking around the room, seeing a few more people also waking up.

"Where the hell am I?" Everyone else looked just as confused as he was. They didnt seem like they were the one behind this, they looked just as confused as he was. Cursing as he tried to stand, looking around the room. Something felt wrong here, like someone or something was watching him in here. "Excuse me? Hello? Umm do any of you know where we are? Or....why were here."

Pinching himself, clearly he wasnt dreaming. Running his hands along his body, not feeling any wounds. And he wasnt scarred or anything. This didnt look like anyplace he been to before. Looking at the others, he decided to introduce himself. "Umm, My name is David Markovia....I think it is at least." he said, unsure if he was right about his past. Everything was still foggy, he couldnt remember much of what his life was like before. Just his name, where he lived, and a woman he recognized. That was it.

[User]
Robert didn't fully understand the quest given, but then again he never understood that tower anyway. A group of individuals being zipped out from another world now awakened in a body that who knows what picked for. And he was expecting them to help? There's no guarantee that they'd actually be nice enough to do so, but they wouldn't even understand to begin with. But urgency clouded all logical judgement, as the man in the black gambeson hastened through the tower corridor to the coffin chamber. They should have already awakened, and to his guess confused, scared. He was pretty much right, to no one's surprise.

Approaching the four newly-arrived was a rather sharp-looking young man in black gambeson and breeches, huffing a little from his travel to the tower. He quickly brushed his hair over his forehead with his hand, gave everyone a quick glance, before letting out one last puff before speaking, in a hurried but seemingly casual tone.

"Everyone up? Everyone good? Functional? Hmm?" He glanced across the rather diverse group of individuals, before cutting right to the chase. "This...never has a good explanation, but I'm going to need you to ready to fight, soon. Yall familiar with it?"

[Assistant]
Chatak decided it would probably be best to walk into the city as he approached. Sure, just walking alongside Patches might seem a little odd compared to the usual animals a human might see around these parts, but at least this way he might just seem like a halfling or gnome with an exotic pet. Riding into town on a hyena's back though just seemed a little too gobliny to not get called out. Then again, it's not like the rest of his appearance wasn't at least somewhat suspicious too. He had to make sure none of his skin showed, but that fact would have thrown him off in itself if he was one of them...

Still, not like there was much he could actually do about it. Gobs weren't particularly appreciated by most other races, so he had to do his best to hide his identity until he knew the people he got help from wouldn't get scared off. Honestly though, it wasn't like he could actually blame them if they did. The vast majority of gobs weren't exactly pleasant to be around, and up until he started putting his ideas into action, the Claybitah Clan wasn't much better. However, after his suggestions had started to show results, the gobs of the tribe had started being able to focus on other things than just surviving from day to day, and he felt it marked a significant improvement on how bearable they were to be around. They actually had time to make things instead of stealing them now. But that had led to the realisation that his knowledge was only going to get them so far. If he wanted the tribe to keep growing as it had, he was going to need to know how to take that information further. That meant finding experts on the subjects, and either getting notes from them or taking them to Claybitah territory himself.

Preferably the former, because it was entirely possible the empire might send someone to wipe them out if they heard of a goblin tribe getting too advanced. Might pose a threat to the nearby villages, after all.

Either way, the point was that he needed experts, and that meant he needed directions. He'd already started getting weird looks from a few of the people in the streets, and nervously adjusted his mask just in case it might've accidentally left a bit of green exposed. When he was mostly sure it hadn't, he hurried along to the massive tower in the middle of the city, one he still had a few very, very vague memories of from his childhood, where his brother had brought him to be saved from the verge of death. Twice actually, though he doubted most would ever know that. He wasn't entirely sure why he was drawn to it now, but as he approached, he caught sight of a nearby guard by the entrance.

Great! He was sure they'd give him directions!

"Ey, Guardman?" He asked, still having trouble with the hume language. "Me Chatak. Chatak need smart people. People who make building, or metal, those type. You know where?"


[System]
Appearance: Sylvia is tall, slender, and generally dark. Tanned skin seems pale in comparison to her deep black, satin hair, an aesthetic which has been settled upon over centuries of deliberation. Pensive brown eyes sit calmly upon a face of sharp features, with only a freckle here and there to serve the purpose of accentuation. Aside from the aforementioned traits, there is nothing particularly noteworthy about her appearance for her area. By design, Sylvia hangs in the middle of a gradient. To one extent, she is undesirable in a society still dominated by segregated caucasians. To the other, she is too light to be regarded as suspicious, allowing her to function, if not somewhat awkwardly, in European society. Her body type is fair, though nothing to turn heads or be worthy of more than a moment's glance. Sylvia understands that she is here to keep the balance, and that requires hiding, not flaunting.

Personality: Sylvia experiences a bit of duality in her life. On one hand, she is deeply driven by purpose; she feels a powerful compulsion to fulfill her place in the universe as one of the ones to balance the world's fundamental forces elements. As a result, she has learned to value subtlety and, above all, respect. Not only for one's peers, but for the universe as a whole in its delicate glory. Of course, on the other hand, there's the party girl. The side of her which she tries as hard as she can to force into the shadow of the "refined," "sensible," "thinking" version of her. However, as with nearly all sapient life, Sylvia just wants to have fun. So, while she tries to stay calm and mind her own business, now and then she can be found being a bit irresponsible and well... less than inconspicuous.

Forceful Nature: The user radiates raw kinetic energy, releasing waves of force which violently vibrate the air/water around them and force anything nearby away from them. Anything which stays in the field or comes closer to the user will begin to experience intense, destructive vibrations. Not available to humans. (Low energy consumption)

 Force Wave: Perhaps the simplest ability at force-users' disposal, the user is able to produce an almost solid wave of energy in a direction, either broad and overpowering, or directed and sharp. Available to humans. (Low energy consumption)

 Amplify: The user applies force to an object or entity, enhancing any kinetic actions which it takes. This increases its resilience to kinetic energies which are applied to it, and enhances any movement which it makes. This can also be used to simulate telekinesis. If done properly, this technique is capable of vibrating an object. Available to humans. (Low energy consumption)

 Immovable Object: The user focuses their attention to a single object or entity, absorbing most all direct energy input and adding it to reserves, functioning as a defensive tactic. Non-kinetic energies are not absorbed, and will still affect the user. If more energy is applied to the user than can be handled, the stored energy will be released and backfire upon the user, sometimes with devastating effects. Weak versions available to advanced humans. (Medium energy consumption)

 Unstoppable Force: The user applies their focus to a single object or entity, giving it a sudden increase in speed. Foreign kinetic forces which are applied to the object will be converted into energy in the direction of movement, adding to the speed. Non-kinetic energies will not be absorbed. If the amount of applied energy is too great, the object or entity will experience the destructive force of the applied force, magnified to the extent of the extra applied energy. Not available to humans. (Medium energy consumption)

 Graviton Shift: The user upsets the gravity of an area, contorting it to their own will. On a rudimentary level, the user can change the direction of gravity, though with enhanced skill and focus they may change the strength of it as well. Not available to humans. (Variable energy consumption, medium to high)

 Pseudomatter: The user creates an organization of kinetic energy such that the application of energy onto anything that touches the field has an equal amount of energy sent back, causing it to act like real matter. allowing for the construction of kinetic walls, tools, and armor. Each construct requires its own bit of focus, however, restricting the amount of potential constructs and their applications. Pseudomatter is seen as being similar to a heat wave in appearance, appearing more and more unstable as the construct becomes more solid. Usable on a small scale by advanced humans. (Variable energy consumption, medium to high)

 Mute: The user absorbs nearby vibrations, silencing the area. Usable by advanced humans. (Medium-high energy consumption)

 Shatter: The user apples chaotic forces to the environment, causing cracks and folds to form. Destruction ensues. If focused to an entity, a great tearing begins as forces are applied from every direction. Incredibly strong/cosmic entities are able to resist this to an extent, due to their more durable bodies. Requires immense concentration. Not available to humans. (High energy consumption)

Equipment: Sylvia typically carries about herself nothing more than an Italian stiletto and a large walking stick - though it has an odd little secret. The stick, which Sylvia never lets anyone else hold or even touch, was originally an entire tree, having been compressed by tons upon tons of force into the humble form in which it now resides. As a result, it is incredibly dense, making it at once too heavy for any mortal to lift, and stronger than a boulder.

Human Persona: To the non-divine eye, Sylvia is, well, nobody. Every day, she wakes up in the early morning and heads to work in the farm which she lives at. A few hours will pass, spent doing nothing particularly noteworthy, and she will spend the rest of her afternoon disappeared into the local alchemical laboratory. Given that alchemy is a rather archaic belief and practice, few bother to step into the building which many assume to be simply a bunch of madmen attempting to turn stones into gold. This is where many will divide on what they claim Sylvia does with her life. Some will say that she returns home, where she stays with her brother, and spends the rest of the evening in inactivity. Some say that she roams the town, shopping for food, supplies, and interesting bits. Rarely, you'll find the person who remembers seeing her at a formal event, a dance, perhaps, or a wine tasting. Many will simply say that she disappears. There are two notable truths which should be exposed here. First, Sylvia does not have a brother. Rather, she has a favorite disciple who she permits to guard her home and live with her. Second, all of the tales are true. Most any bit of gossip which you'll hear, be it dull or improbably exciting, has a spark of truth to it. Sylvia does, sometimes, return home after a day of harvesting and work at the temple. Other days, she heads into the city to observe and experience the saturation of the culture. On occasion, she will treat herself to something dangerous or irresponsible. And some days, well, some days nobody can tell you where she goes.

Temple Description: Located in the denser section of early Paris, an innocent enough looking laboratory sits on the corner of city block. Inside this, "alchemical and physical studies," lab however, is a collection of the devout followers of the Immortal currently known as Sylvia Marquet. They're a quiet, studious bunch who value progression above all else, believing that it will allow them to become the strongest of the seven groups. Their doctrine? Become greater. Their only purpose, beyond serving their god that is, is to advance themselves as much as they are able, both scientifically and economically. Of course, this must all be done from the shadows, though at times the group has been known to stray from their commands a bit in the name of progress, typically with consequences falling along the lines of witch prosecutions and executions. Local technology is what might be expected for Renaissance Paris, though the disciples have access to slightly more advanced technologies such as experimental microscopes and other scientific equipment.

[User]
After he and his son entered the city under the cloak of Darkness they made their way to the temple. Force was essentially neutral in Sai's experience, which made its temple the best meeting spot for the elements to come together. Unfortunately, he had no idea what Force looked like unless it still to that same female form it had last time they met, so he'd have to be careful about who he revealed himself to.

As he snuck towards the temple, however, he realized that there was a large amount of Force users around, more than he thought would be normal. Taking a chance, he revealed himself to one of them who was alone. "Hello" he said. "I need directions to your temple. Could you help me?"

"Yes, sir." he said. "Force asked us to bring the Darkness user to her. Please, follow me."

Sai looked at his son. "Find the thieves guild in this city." he said. "They are loyal to Darkness, even if they are not users of his element. You will be safe there, as they would not dare harm one of his monks."

"But father, you will need my help."

"Against Force, I would need every monk and priest in the temple to even buy me time to escape. Do not worry, I'll see you soon enough."

Geren nodded and re-hid himself, heading off to find the thieves.

"Lead me to her." Sai said, then followed the man back to the temple.

[Assistant]
Fire comes back down, looking much better than before, and surprise! I'm impatient! He an barely get in those few words before I nod and flash away in light, trusting the brief flash of solar heat that I leave behind to give him an appropriate channel to follow me with. Streaking away into the sky, I take a brief moment to orient myself before darting off into the north once more.

I would normally have to ask about something like this, but I'm pretty sure I know exactly where Darkness is, and by extension, Force. I can feel a significant, borderline painful, lack of light, far more than is natural, in one building in the city and one alone.

With a flash of intense light, I appear in a small, abandoned house about a street away from the epicenter of darkness. From there, it's just a short run to the man himself.

I tackle him from behind at full speed, knocking him off of his feet in a crushing hug.

"Darkness! It's been too long!"

---

After a hasty round of apologies, we resume our path, me being pretty happy. More than usual, actually. After a brief SLOW walk, we wind up in what looks like some sort of laboratory. The follower of Force leaves us there and walks out, presumably going to fetch Force.

I have to sit down.

Horror of horrors.

Well, nothing to die but wait now, I suppose. I can at least have a conversation with Darkness; I haven't done so in ages.

"So, Darkness," I begin conversationally, "What kind of identity have you taken lately? You haven't contacted me in at least a century!"

[User]
"Darkness! It's been too long!"

Sai sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Three hundred years." he said. "It's been three hundred years since any human besides my highest ranking monks has known who I am and he first thing you do when seeing me is blow my cover. I guess I can chance disguises later, though." He relaxed a bit and greeted the other Immortal. "Nice to see you again, Light."

Eventually they make their way to Force's Temple and sit down.

"So, Darkness, What kind of identity have you taken lately? You haven't contacted me in at least a century!"

"I'm a Master thief and a father. Just promise me you won't reveal my identity to my son when you meet him."

[Assistant]
Dressed in the clothes of a scientist, the man scuttled into the chamber hurriedly. It was dark, but not so dark as to be blinding. Moreso, the chamber was in a constant state of sunrise – or sunset. Directly opposite the door, the goddess sat on something akin to a rather modest throne, thinking, as the room continually vibrated precariously.

"Miss?" The man'a voice trembled; he was nervous, and rightfully so.

"Yes?" The vibrations stopped as the woman opened her eyes, freed from her meditation.

"There are, well, some people outside. They look and feel like sin. They said that they were here for you."

"Good! They've finally arrived." Sylvia rose, and hurriedly started for the exit.

"Miss? I don't suppose you could be bothered to tell us what's going on. We're all quite alarmed."

Sylvia paused, and turned her head to her disciple. "Don't worry about it. You're here with me because you're one of the smart ones, and smart people know when to let the big kids take care of things. Just a little bit of tension is all." Before the man could retort, Sylvia gently nudged him out of the way and entered the main hall of the building. She cleared her throat.

"All! We have guests, as I'm sure you've heard. These guests are important, and I've no idea how long they're going to be here. I'll be taking care of them for the most part, which means that all of you have a very easy job: keep up the hospitality. If they ask you to do something, either you do it or you prepare for the consequences that they will be dealing out to you. I'm giving them all explicit permission to kill any of you if you misbehave. Play nice, and keep up the refreshments." With the tip of an invisible top hat, Sylvia smiled and threw open the front doors, seeing two seemingly opposite figures resting on the benhh to the left.

"My dears, my dears! Bienvenue à Paris!" With a soft clap and a friendly tilt of the head, Sylvia put forth her best 'hostess' attitude.

"You're welcome to come inside if you please, if my people are half competent and fear for their lives there should be some local cuisine waiting on a table right on the entrance as soon as we head in." Sylvia then recalled that she had yet to specifically address her guests. She offered one hand to each, and gave a greeting nod as she spoke.

"Light, Dark."


[System]
Age:

22

Appearance:

 Subject stands 160 cm (5'2") in height. Subject also has light hazel eyes with short hair to match.

Abilities:

 Subject possesses an unobserved form of  Affinity with Pain*  (*Suffering?): Record has the Subject breaking a door off its hinges when it was accidentally closed on and injured her fingers. While it was evident there was damage – multiple broken phalanxes and torn skin – the injury seemed to have never happened, suggesting a Regenerative Healing Factor. The strength which she gained to break the door was hypothesized to come from her injury.

 The extent to which the two abilities are able to reach is unknown. Further insight is needed.

History:

 Subject is of Gaelic origin, raised in The United Kingdom. Parents show no obvious signs of empowerment, and have therefore the hypothesis that the Subject's abilities are of a spontaneous mutation is further supported. Parents are a non-factor.

 Subject is a student of Department of Law in the  London School of Economics and Political Science  – top of her class, with multiple intern experiences with many important figures. Many people know her.

 Her current residence is in the central London area, alone, supported with her position of Paralegal in Yip Tse & Chiang, a Chinese-based law firm.

[User]
One by one they fell, one by one the soldiers were shredded, torn apart, broken, bitten, pulled apart - all sorts of gruesome deaths in a theatrical performance by Gershwin May. Not even a hale of bullets from a heavy machine gun could bring her down - it did, initially, but she would just get back up and fight through as if nothing happened. She would grunt and fight her way through in an anguished pursuit to cease the pain. She felt if she killed them all... maybe her unending, immortal hell would end...

---

Big Boss noted exactly the direction Subject 30 was headed. He grabbed hold of microphone of a nearby staff member - speaking into it to all nearby foot soldiers:

"All units converge in Hallway A. Barricade the entrance, and prepare to fight."

[Assistant]
Cody tilted his head, as if listening to the approaching soliders. There was something different to them...he hummed to himself, pondering it for the barest of seconds. He walked into the hallway, unconcerned.

The reinforcements didn't bother him. Beyond the fact that he could see their shapes, due to the light of their beings, he could hear them. Their breathing, their movement, the creak of their armor.

"So...I don't imagine this is a dinner party"

His voice seemed to echo, but he didn't seem to notice that. Beyond, he could hear the fighting, the violence of Gerswhin's attack. He tilted his head the other way, thoughtful.

"I'm disappointed. Even now, your boss hides behind you. Is he just a coward? Afraid that he will indeed fall to me? Such a shame. Maybe he thinks I'll be weaknend and he'll win easily"

He had no doubts that Big Boss could hear him. His tone was calm, and neutral, and he gave a sigh.

"Oh well"

He began to weave light, creating cages, still seeking to contain rather then kill, but if pressed, he would kill. As he did this, he began to form balls of light, which he shot at the reinforcements, testing right them, the extent of the reinforcements strength.

[User]
Cody's ambient lights were the only source of illumination in the dark chamber. Around the room, soldiers were set up in successive layers, each with a specialized unit of attack. These units alternated with each other layer so that a single layer being wiped out would not be a hindrance in the attack approach. Each unit held different sources of weapons, ranging from heavy machine guns to actual artillery and mortar shots.

When the light cages formed around them, the soldiers did not flinch at all. Bullets passed through them in heavy volley, and all the soldiers were now fitted with the heat-resistant heavy armour: light cages were nothing to them now, walking through them as if they were never there.

Soldiers with heavy-set weapons approached Subject 30 slowly. The balls of light hit three to four of the soldiers, knocking them back to their backs. Soldiers spread out deftly and swiftly and continued their incessant fire, hoping that the repeated stress on the Subject's light armour would eventually be broken. He can't possibly handle all this stress. The knocked down soldiers were down but not out, and would slowly pick themselves back up.

The approaching soldiers noted the Subject's standstill, and formed an arc around him, blocking any ground escape. They continued to pelt him with an unending supply of ammunition - which was being continuously resupplied clandestinely through resources and openings heavily reinforced.

The hallway was now a fireworks display of muzzle fire and Subject 30's light.

[Assistant]
Cody was unsurprised when the shoulders escaped his light cages, protected by their armor. how many hits can they withstand? he wondered, but he was sure it was more then his own armor could withstand. He constantly shifted, adding layer after layer when it went down, but he knew he couldn't continue that for long. He needed to figure out a way of taking them down. He immediately began to look for weaknesses in the armour.

He began to attack their weapons, blocking the barrels with thick light plugs, hoping to prevent them firing with them. It didn't matter if it didn't work, as he began to fill the room with screens of light, like stationary sheilds, around him, merely to give him time to think. He knew he was surrounded, yet he did not care.

Finally, he formed his whips, and using them like losso's, he began to capture the shoulder's one by one, pulling tight, they would begin to tie around those he caught. He knew it was merely a stop cap, yet he continued to resist, as he began to gather light, forcing energy into a massive ball, that if he got off, would be similar to an explosion within the room.

[User]
The light plugs proved effective, and the blockage caused the high-speed propelled bullet to explode within the barrel. Those whose weapons were blocked were jolted violently in the recoil, falling to the ground. Some were hit in the head with the rifle, cracking their helmets and knocking them out. Some of the rifles exploded from within, and were rendered useless. Gunfire continued from the far-back ranks, but the approaching soldiers ran at Subject 30, hoping that they could take him out in strong hand-to-hand combat.

The lassoed soldiers, while resistant to the heat and damage from the light whips, were still carried and tossed around and away. This necessitated a shift in strategy:

Subject 30 was too dangerous to approach mid-way, but in terms of long-range and up-close, the soldiers had a shot. The mortars continued their artillery explosive shots, hoping that the concussive blasts from the explosions would disorientate and perhaps dismember him while the upfront soldiers closed in to take him down fully. The numbers were dwindling, but they were still as deadly.

---

The reinforcements were getting closer. Helicopters covered the skies by the dozen, and on the ground, Armoured Personnel Carriers and tanks on full speed, bringing in a literal army of trained soldiers and weapons to rescue any UNARM personnel, and take down any and all threats. If one could look over the huge crater that hid their facility, they were within the horizon, the gunships even closer.

Gershwin was perched on a rooftop and roared tyrannically.

[Assistant]
There was a moment for Cody where his shield broke, and a bullet lodged itself in his shoulder, in the split second before he got his shield back up. He stumbled, before rising and throwing multiple light balls at his opponents to seek for week spots, noticing the change in tactics. As the soliders closed in, Cody began to move.

He began to punch those closest to him, moving with grace, and some ease, but he was tiring. He knew he had to stop them quickly, and so he began to punch, kick and hit with speed, and power. His light abilities fueled his punches and he began to move through the ranks.

He hummed as he fought, and the lights around them began to flicker, and he unconsciously began to draw energy from them, causing him to sway slightly.

---

Caits began to make her way out the building, stumbling along, bleary eyed and exhausted, her gun in her hands, and she looked up at the sound of helicoptor. She gave a heavy sigh, and began to make her way onto a roof.

[User]
Subject 30's light empowerment was very powerful when up close. The shots of light worked like a cannon blast up close, and the armour took a visible toll absorbing the impact, and it struck the soldiers inside even harder. Those shot up-close were knocked out.

Those that got close enough, before being shot away, managed to land some hits on Cody. Strong and toned as they were, and protected as they might be, it seemed that they were not strong enough to penetrate his shield - only a stronger kinetic force seemed to be the only choice. Thus, the ones that did not get shot, turned around, running back to retrieve a resupply on firearms.

In the back, a man stood amongst the lower row, and readied his Rocket-Propelled Grenade launcher, aiming the warhead at Cody.

---

Gershwin stood at the very corner edge of the building she was atop. Her shoulders were hunched and arms were spread as if like a predator sizing up his prey, and knowing it had the bigger bite. But off the corner of "its" eye, she saw Agent Caits. 10 meters behind her, a missile was headed her way. With intentions unknown, Gershwin jumped and launched herself at the missile, intercepting it mid-air before it hit Agent Caits.

 The explosion, concussive and heat, would have disintegrated her body. In fact, it was, but now her entire body was a phantasmal, ghastly, monstrous replica of her former self. Her elbows seemed to have spikes and her fingers elongated to claws, her mouth no longer the pleasant smile but instead a sharp maw with daggers for teeth. Horns seemed to sprout out of her head and her jaw, her spine with long, barbed, serrated protrusions. She started to looked like a demon. For all intents and purposes, this may not be her final form.

She leaped at the inbound helicopter which was just over the crater ridge, and with her sharp claws, pierced right through it. It exploded right then and there, and Gershwin howled in pain as her body got hit by shrapnel, fire, the spinning blades, before landing face-first back on the rooftop. She rose back up as if from the dead, a pained look in her eyes - those glowing orbs on the remnants of her human orifices. She turned back around, noting the incoming helicopters.

On the other end, at the only entrance to the UNARM facility, vehicular noise sounded. The land units were here.

[Assistant]
Cody began to gather light to him, seemingly unconcerned by the rocket launcher aimed at him. As each blow landed, Cody's body acted insinctively, quickly replunishing his shield. Sometimes however his power wasn't quick enough, and blows landed on him, causing him to stumble, or grunt in pain. Yet this didn't seem to stop him, as his body rapidly began to heal him. He couldn't stop it, it was merely his body's reaction to it.

He gathered light to him, forming it into a massive ball, that he would fire as soon as the launcher fired. And then he crouched, covering his head with his arms, knowing there would be a resulting explosion, and knowing that it would hurt his ears.

Far away, Cody could hear the sounds of battle, and knew Gerswhin had joined the fray.

---

The blurred figure that leaped in front of her, saving her life, was seen at the cornor of Caits's eye, and she ducked, the resulting heat washing over her, somewhat lessoned due to it exploding on impact to Gerswhin. Caits rose from where she had been blasted, weary, but knowing she had to continue. She wasn't afraid. It seemed that everytime she was to die, Gerswhin stopped that from happening. She knew she shouldn't rely on Gerswin, but if she was going to die anyway, she might as well be a little reckless.

An Avenging Angel. Perhaps that was what Gerswhin was.

Caits began to choose targets, and began to shoot. She stilled aimed for injury, and not death. She just couldn't make herself kill, evne now.


[System]
Age: 12002.
Race: Undead(Human).
Sex: Female.
Description:

Truly a figure which most would dread to see coming at them. She stands at an even six foot tall and weighs a solid one hundred and ninety pounds though most wouldn't be able to tell since she looks like she weighs half that. Most would assume a warrior such as herself would have sizeable muscles but her body looks soft and feminine, at least the parts that remain. Given the fact she's animated with dark magic muscles are hardly necessary since biologically speaking she has no right to be moving at all, let alone with such strength.

Her skin is a blue tinged grey like that of a drowned corpse. Her body might be a bit less bloated than the average floater but she looks no less drowned. Her hair is a murky dark green, not unlike kelp. Her hair is straight albeit messy more often than not and cut just above her neckline. Her face while bearing some slender femininity is a bit rounder, a softer jawline with cheeks that are more full with a lower cheekbone that accentuates the eyes which... Well, require some explanation.

The sockets which once housed eyes are empty now. More than that the eyelids themselves are missing as well, leaving the eye sockets open up to the edges of the skull, leaving only the eyebrows. Inside the hollow apertures her eyes once occupied is a deep darkness, an abyss so black staring deeply into them can leave one's grip on sanity loosened. As though swimming in the shores of the fathomless darkness which appears to stretch on for eternity are two spheres of winding light in an unearthly yellow hue, one mote for each socket.

Her armor is no less imposing than herself despite it's piecemeal collection of parts. Her helmet is a large dark iron greathelm, concealing all but the intangible clots of yellow light that serve as her eyes which shine through the narrow eye slots. Her body armor was actually taken from a famed "Turtle Knight", a massive breastplate far too heavy for any average knight to use. It's plates are half an inch thick and curved in the shape of a turtle's shell, something most knights would find unmanageable but she doesn't seem to mind it's motion restrictive design and excessive mass. For shoulder protection she wears a large set of dark iron pauldrons. On her arms she wears dark iron gauntlets and vambraces. Her legs are protected with a set of gilded but scratched iron greaves complete with once elaborate cuisses that look like whatever designs they were embossed with has been smashed into a spangle of loose metal atop the plates. Her weapon is a large ship anchor which has been covered with more than few centuries worth of rust, wielded by the loop it's tied by. It's attached to a chain which is wrapped several times around her left arm which is her dominant arm.

Notable Belongings:

- Her anchor. Despite the endless years of rust the old makeshift weapon's thickness had ensured it's survival so far. It may be pocked and riddled with old barnacle shells but it still holds up to both the rigors of travel and the trials of combat. The chain attached to it's ring is a recent addition, the original one having broken apart deep below the waves quite a while ago.

- Her armor. A collection of borrowed pieces from foes she has slain. Some parts are even segments of armor that have been strapped or crudely nailed onto preexisting articles. She tends to show preference towards heavier, more protective gear.

Backstory:

In the beginning Gangraena was the daughter in the lineage of famous knights. Practically every single member of her family had gone on to serve in knighthood, most becoming the stuff of legends once they shuffle off their mortal coil. Man and women alike, there wasn't a single member of her family that didn't fight. She was strong yes but to call her slow witted would be an understatement. Even the wooden training dummies took quicker to learning the arts of combat than she did. Still, she eventually did learn a thing or two though her basic technique still basically boiled down to "Hit target real hard". When the time came she was knighted and sent forth on her very first mission. She was to sail across the Ondorss sea alongside a detachment of her fellow knights as well as a crew to man the ship. It was there they would reinforce a fort bordering barbarian lands.

Of course right in the middle of their voyage a terrible storm struck, overturning their ship and sending all aboard it off into the roiling waters.

Most of the sailors aboard the ship drowned that night but Gangraena's fate was chosen by a different force. As she drowned shadowy forces dragged her below, pulling her body well into the depths. Her form drifted in between the great oceanic crags and into the great tear in the earth's face below the waves.

So deep below she was pulled. She was dragged into depths which in ordinary circumstances would hold pressures too great for the soft bodies of most surface dwellers. This was no ordinary circumstance however, dark magic protecting her from the dangers of the deep until she was brought into a long forgotten temple which had sunk into the ocean ages ago. This mysterious entity took her into it's flooded halls and set her upon it's unearthly altar.

When she awoke everything was grey. Strange symbols littered the walls and statues of some olden ichthyoid deity were scattered about, some mostly intact and others not so much. Without any instruction or purpose she started to float about without direction. As she swam from the temple she was starting to float away so she grasped for something to hold onto. She managed to grab hold of the anchor which had fallen off her ship which was destroyed in the storm. With the anchor weighing her down she was able to set her feet on the ground and begin upon her long trek, dragging the anchor along behind her like it was some old oar.

_
From then on she simply walked. She had no direction to follow so she'd simply walk until she ran into something and then try to walk around that. This continued for thousands upon thousands of years. Though long as such a trek might be it could of been shorter but she had a terrible sense of direction and often wound up walking in circles for many years at a time. Sometimes she would fall into pits that could swallow mountains and occasionally she'd run into mountains that make those of the surface world seem pitifully small by comparison. Being a realm vastly larger than the surface land it's features often dwarfed those that appeared above

After such an unfathomably long time spent wandering the vast sea floor she eventually came upon a shore. Trudging up this deep sea creature of undeath continued along the sandy coast until she found a quaint little fishing village. At first they were terrified but after a while they came to accept that she meant no harm. She spent a fair amount of time among them, slowly learning their language and how to fish. Over the course of many generations she eventually got the hang of both.

Such was life until a humble mercenary company came through one day. They were a respectable bunch of warriors who needed a place to stay and restock their supplies. When they saw how strong Gangraena was they were thoroughly impressed. They offered her a place in their company if she wanted to fight alongside them. She accepted the offer and went along with them the day after. Since then she's fought many battles, now wielding her anchor as a tool of death rather than just an old keepsake. Over the years they'd lose men both to battle and to sickness. Eventually after a few bad bouts of combat the company was all but wiped out. It was just her and the captain who had suffered severe wounds in the end. He decided if he did survive his injuries he was just going to retire on what funds they had left. Thus Gangraena was the only remaining member of their company.

Since fighting was what she knew best she decided to just keep up what she'd been doing so far. She traveled the land now a lone mercenary, killing for coin to afford repairs on her armor. Then the cataclysm happened. Since the power she was bestowed rested within her it was almost as if nothing had changed. She felt no weaker and now there was more demand for mercenaries than ever before.

This is where her story begins.

Magic:

She's been reanimated by a dark, ancient power that calls her physical form home. As such there's a number of changes to her, some simply being facets of being undead and others brought upon her by the forgotten one's power.

Firstly as a member of the undead she no longer holds the needs of the living. She does not need to eat, sleep, drink or even breath. Diseases and poisons sit idle in her flesh for her blood had ran still long ago. She no longer experiences fatigue and can exert herself endlessly without fail. While she no longer feels pain nor the comforts of warmth she still holds a dim sense of touch.

She has no eyes of the tangible variety but she can see perfectly fine, not only in the light but also in the darkness no matter how tenebrous it may be. This comes at the cost of being able to see in color, leaving her only able to see in shades of grey. She no longer holds any sense of taste or smell either.

In addition to the traits of her undead are the dark gifts bestowed upon her. She holds a strength far greater than any mundane man or beast. The entirety of her body is connected by this strange power so that even if an arm, a leg or even her head is removed she can control them no less than when they were still attached to her. Not only does this long forgotten essence keep her flesh from rotting like some mere cadaver but it also protects her from the harsh tolls of the water. While the beasts of the sea once respected the pact that was made between the waters and her sunken benefactor that may have changed since the cataclysm. Where once no beast of the waters would prey upon her now only fate knows which water dwelling creature still respects their ancient oath.

Though sometimes a boon undeath carries a number of drawbacks as well. The most notable drawback is that as she is no longer alive her flesh does not knit together over time like the living do. While she may not decay every wound she receives never leaves her. Her only means of maintaining structural stability is to patch together the skin with thread and, in more severe cases, to nail metal braces to the bone.

Due to the nature of the power animating her any remaining magic derived from the gods of light and life will naturally react negatively when exposed to her dark essence. Necromancy however is especially effective on her given her undead state. This can be either a boon or a curse depending on the whims of the necromancer.

Strength = 10.
Perception = 3.
Endurance = 10.
Charisma = 5.
Intelligence = 2.
Agility = 2.
Luck = 8.

[User]
The person, who turned out to be a woman, at least according to the voice coming out of the helmet, had nicely piped in, interested in a job as well. Taking into account the words spoken by her, as well as her strange appearance, coupled with the eerie armor set, she looked like quite the capable candidate, figured Urdal.

 The half-elf, quite satisfied by the short lowering of arms, which had occurred, almost skipped over towards the woman, going behind the demonic in heritage man. He stopped walking at around three feet from his new recruit, who looked quite normal, when compared to the other individuals who had gotten into his posse, and extended his hand in greeting.

"Very well! I'm Urdal, and I'm glad to be... Working with you..?" His voice trailed off when he started inspecting the ancient armor set worn by her, as well as the big anchor. Another thing that caught his eye were the yellow shining lights, coming from between the slits of the helmet. Normal, yes. His disappointment was immeasurable, but he made a valiant attempt to hide it.

[Assistant]
Seeing as the dragon's hissy fit had subsided, Aredis hadn't intended to push his luck. Struggling greatly, he heaved himself up with the staff and began to mutter a prayer under his voice, hoping to at least dull the pain in his entire leg. It seemed to help for the moment at least. As he did so, he saw a rather odd scene unfolding before him, the orc and the monstrous drunkard from before had a rather...interesting engagement occurring. Then another man, or was that a bull? No no, that was not quite right. Aredis had never seen a bull in human form. He'd interacted with a fair amount of the normal variety when he occasionally ventured out to tend to the crops of farms near his forest. They were an unfortunately dull beast. Thoughts of food and violence. Not as sophisticated as most other beasts. So much seemed to have been sparked by his idle comments to the half-...actual dragon. Which reminded him, what in Gods names was an actual dragon doing here? It had been some time since they had cared or attempted to interfere with the affairs of mortals. If he remembered his history they had also thought themselves Gods and profane the worship of the true inhabitants of the Heavenly Accord.

With labored strides, he would move to the woman who was still quite belligerent. There was a certain...aura about the woman. Forsaken, perhaps. It was something he understood. Yet she had taken it much worse. The heavy plate about her made it clear that she had once been a keen user of such an outfit. Now, however the Holy Woman had become frail. Thin. How she managed to carry the weight of the armor on her shoulders was a mystery to him. Unshakable resolve will give a person strength that transcends their physical form though. Aredis once would have been one of comparable resolve. Recent events had him questioning his entire life. What had the point been if it all led to this. He hoped this journey would allow him to discover things about himself.

"Your faith is admirable. Yet you are falling and you haven't prepared for the impact. Once you have, pulling yourself from the depths shall be an arduous task. If you succeed however, the recovery will bring you enlighten." Perhaps that was a bit overkill, the druid pondered. It got quite irritating to others, but he enjoyed speaking in an overly clergy like way. It would evoke fiery responses. This would perhaps bring his end sooner than later, yet what did he have if not an exciting life. Change was coming in this world and he wanted to follow. In time his social inadequacy would fade. Yet he knew he would still intentionally perturb the others. It gave him a small smile. At this point he had not wanted to address his also violent companions as it hadn't worked out well with the apparent dragon.