[System]
"To be completely honest, I hardly even know myself..."
Age: 16.

Gender: Male

Arcana: Death

Equipment:

- A notebook in which Ishido occasionally jots down notes. Notably, he's begun taking down notes on people, and things.
- A blue scarf and a red cape – both souvenirs given to him by Mr and Mrs Yoichi. He wears these as often as he can.
- A phone, also given to him by the Yoichi family. Unfortunately, Ishido doesn't have anyone registered…

Skills:

Writing - Ishido's writing ability is surprisingly refined; at least with a pen and paper.
Cleaning - He's gained a talent for cleaning - as he often cleans for the Yoichi family, to help them out.
Getting Lost - Ishido is skilled at getting lost.
Learning - Ishido is more than willing to learn new skills – perhaps his most useful skill of all.

Appearance:
Ishido also wears a blue scarf and a small red cape on his back.

Personality:

Curiosity - Ishido's defining trait is that he's very, very curious. Due to his memory loss, there's a lot he doesn't know – and it's not just limited to his past identity. Ishido loves to learn about things that take his interest.

A Blank, Empty Slate - Ishido feels like he's a blank slate compared to everyone else, due to his memory loss. While other people have been through all sorts of things – Ishido's essentially been around for only over three months, and hardly has anything to tell others.

A Seeker of Purpose - Ishido seeks a purpose in life – but this proves to be a challenge for the amnesiac. Not only dose he look for a purpose, he also seeks out hobbies.

Calm and Awkward - Ishido usually has a calm, aloof demeanour – but, despite this, he's surprisingly chatty and social with people he's comfortable with at times, contrary to his quiet personality. He can also be quite awkward.

Devoted to His Friends, Passive to Others - One particular trait of Ishido's is that he is very devoted to his friends. If a good friend of Ishido's was in a pinch, Ishido would fight tooth and nail to help them out. However, Ishido doesn't make friends easily, as he's very passive. While he does want to make friends, he waits for them to come to him. But, if you make friends with Ishido... you could very well have a friend for life, who is willing to take the fall for you in dire situations.

Protective - Ishido can be somewhat snarky and hostile to people who wrong him or his friends.

Mimic - Subconsciously, Ishido tends to occasionally mimic the behaviour of others… to varying success. Along with this, he learns from how other people go about doing things.

Socially Clueless - Ishido isn't exactly too aware of social norms. He'll occasionally head up the street when he's dressed for bed, and a majority of the time, Ishido wears a short cape in public often – along with a scarf, even when it's not winter. Ishido is attached to both the cape and the scarf – they were given to him as gifts by Mrs Yoichi.

Gives Things a Go - Ishido is more than happy to take chances to try out new things; even if he's got no knowledge of it. If a meal needed to be cooked – Ishido would certainly give it a go, even though he's got little to no talent in the field.

Occasionally Drifts Off - Ishido is also prone to spacing out if his intention isn't piqued.

Biography:

Ishido is someone who could easily be described as an enigma… both to others, and himself. Essentially, Ishido has amnesia – he can't remember anything before January 17th, 2016.

Ishido awoke to two figures – a husband and a wife, Mr and Mrs Yoichi. The two of them were utterly surprised that Ishido woke up… though Ishido realized he had no idea who he was talking to, nor how he ended up where he was. Ishido attempted to think through what he'd done previously, what could've possibly got him in his situation… but nothing came to mind. He couldn't recall anything he'd done, not even his name.
Both Mr and Mrs Yoichi were shocked to hear that the amnesiac boy didn't know even his name, but they quickly took him in – under the name of 'Ishido Yoichi' – the name of the Yoichi's family's adopted son, who had went missing seven years ago. Ishido found himself touched by this kind act.

From that day forth, Mr and Mrs Yoichi tried their best to educate the amnesiac Ishido… but they found that he hadn't forgotten everything. He already knew how to perform most subjects at a passable level for a first year in senior high – with the exception of mathematics, where he struggled heavily. They didn't need to teach him much – after all, school would do a good job of that. And, Ishido found that a large amount of what Mr and Mrs Yoichi tried to teach him was incorrect.

Ishido concluded that Mr and Mrs Yoichi weren't the brightest bulbs in the box after they claimed they'd lived in Shikatsu for twenty years… even though they frequently got lost when attempting to tour him around. He couldn't fault Mr and Mrs Yoichi for this, however – both of them were in their sixties, and they'd taken him in out of the kindness in their hearts... and Ishido wasn't exactly a bright bulb, either, for he seemed to have a knack for getting lost.

Ishido felt he owed a debt to the two of them, and so he helped out around the house whenever possible, to which the two of them were grateful.

Around March was when Ishido began to wonder… just who was he? He hadn't really thought too hard on it before, but he'd lost all memory prior to January 17th. But Ishido didn't know where to start as he didn't have the slightest clue to his previous identity. Asking Mr and Mrs Yoichi proved fruitless, too. They claimed they had a rough idea, but their memory was hazy.

Days later, Mr and Mrs Yoichi suggested Ishido go to school as soon as possible. It took a while for Ishido and Mr and Mrs Yoichi to find Uchima Senior High, but Ishido was enlisted as a student with little trouble.

That following week, he discovered that Mr and Mrs Yoichi had spent the last of their savings on getting Ishido into Uchima Senior High. Ishido was grateful, and helped out the Yoichis as much as he could to repay them.

Ishido was excited for when Uchima Senior High opened back up. April 21st was what Mr. Yoichi said was the opening date, but this was incredibly incorrect, because as it would turn out... the school year started on April 5th. None of the Yoichi family knew this.

Along with that, Ishido attempted to get to Uchima Senior High on the 21st… only to get lost and end up heading back home. At the present moment, Ishido is travelling the streets – desperately looking for Uchima Senior High…

Persona:

Name: Colossus

Appearance:

 Ishido Yoichi's Persona is Colossus; a large Persona standing at ten feet tall.

Traits:

-Void: Earth
-Resist: Lightning
-Weak: Nuclear, Fire

Abilities/Skills:

- Magna: Light earth damage to a single foe.
- Bash: Light strike damage to a single foe.
- Rakukaja: Increases an ally's defense by one stage.

[User]
A Lifeless Street, Cloaked in Golden Fog

A golden fog stood before Ishido. Where had it come from? For Ishido, that was something he couldn't decipher. Ishido had simply approached the shimmering pink light, only for the strange fog to appear.

'This is weird...' Ishido thought, having stopped in place to look around. But something became clear to Ishido... the woman was gone, and so were any cars that were previously on the street. There was not a soul in sight, or at least... one that Ishido could see.

'It must be night...' Ishido concluded, though he'd seen it was previously day mere minutes ago. 'It doesn't look like it, but... maybe. People go home at night, after all.'

But the golden fog posed another question. What was it? It was one of many things that Ishido had never heard of... all thanks to his shattered memory, most likely. Ishido had never heard anyone speak of the golden fog, or mysterious pink lights that felt as if they beckoned people to them.

'If I didn't have this amnesia,' Ishido pondered, still scanning the area with his eyes for anything of note. 'I bet I'd know about this stuff. It's probably something everyone else knows about, but I don't... I'm getting used to that.'

Ishido's thinking was swiftly interrupted by a realization. He couldn't feel his phone in his hands...! Hurriedly, Ishido looked downwards, towards the grass below... but his phone was still in his hand. However, he was completely unable of feeling it.
But, more importantly... something about his phone seemed off. It seemed to be pulsing, and making strange, yet familiar noises. But these noises lasted for only a simple instant.

These strange happenings confused Ishido. Someone more experienced with the world would find the situation abnormal, perhaps even paranormal - what with the mysterious pink lights only he could see, the mystic golden fog, and his phone suddenly playing up...

But Ishido was almost new to the world. He'd woken three months ago, no recollection of who he was - with fragments of knowledge. He knew some things, but found that he didn't know all sorts of things that others could recall in a moment. To Ishido, all of the strange happenings were normal things he wasn't used to.

'I've never heard of anyone talk about this gold fog or pink light... but I'm sure it's normal to other people... it's just weird because of my memory.' Pondered Ishido, lost in thought. 'If I see anyone, I'll ask them, like I usually do.'

But, then, Ishido heard some noises. Curiously, Ishido looked around once more; and immediately caught sight of something he'd somehow missed. Ishido had spotted another person in the golden fog; and another form of pink light, along with an open door.

'I wonder what they're doing here.'

Ishido chose to head towards the boy. He wasn't fearful - he didn't know what to be fearful of, in this case. Instead, he was merely confused and in search of answers. And perhaps that boy had the answers Ishido sought?

After all, Ishido perceived the situation as normal, but something that he simply didn't have experience with. For all Ishido knew, other people were used to the golden fog and pink lights... other than the lady than before, of course.

[Assistant]
, @Plank Sinatra, @Kafka Komedy, @Crimmy

"Per…" Hitomi's eyes took me from Kimiko's pale hand handing her mouth a fry to… She didn't know where she was.

I felt love.

Hitomi snapped out of her trance and munched down on the fry. Hitomi thought that was love. The perfect crispness, a fair amount of salt, and a little bit of love. Hitomi hadn't really known love in her life. One was supposed to love their family, but she never really did. She knew it was a terrible thing to think. But they had shown her that wishing the best for someone wasn't really the same thing as true love. She had seen what Daisuke and Kimiko were talking about. Daisuke had saved Hitomi's life with his… Persona?

"So…" Hitomi watched as a general took her arm and threw her on the bed. He stood dutifully at the door. Ready for what was about to come. The door burst open and a spear drove its way through his head. She waited on the bed, but they did not harm her.

She wanted to know what they were. She felt an almost burning sensation in the pit of her heart. She wanted to understand these Persona.

"Na?" She watched as the fire burned away the flesh of her lover. But as the fire hissed at her, she began to realize that Paris wasn't right for her. Did she ever truly love him at all? Where was Menelaus? Why was she in Troy? She didn't want to marry Deiphobus.

Who was Paris? Or Menelaus, or Deiphobus? Why did she know these names?

Why was she remembering these things that had never happened to her?

Hitomi tightened her grip on Kimiko attempting to ground herself to reality. Not tight enough to cause any discomfort, but she lowered herself down so she was essentially laying on the girl's back. The girl calmly stared out at the ensuing conversation and munched once more on the fry being offered to her.

"I've been seeing someone too. She was really tall, and beautiful..." She said quietly, almost silently hoping that no one heard her. "I think something is happening to us, that might be bigger than us."

[User] Hans briefly considered his options right now he was in the middle of some unknown location, unless his mind was playing tricks on him and he was currently unconscious. Hans breathed in calmly and looked around him nothing was coming out to get him just yet. In an attempt to play it safe Hans decided to check first before going into the house. Hans reached out and formed a fist and knocked on the door that was ajar. He did it loudly hoping that either nothing would respond, or if something inside would come towards the door way at least then he had a chance to spring back where he came from. Going into the house seemed like an unwise choice. Whatever this decrepit place was it was alien to him and he didn't like it. Hans steeled himself for surprise if there was any to come.

[Assistant]
A Lifeless Street, Cloaked in Golden Fog

As Ishido approached the boy and the house, he began to wonder. What was the boy doing here? Nobody else was around. Perhaps he lived in the nearby house, with the ajar door? In such a case, perhaps he knew what was going on?

But then, Ishido caught sight of the boy knocking on the ajar door... perhaps the boy was a visitor, someone coming by to say 'hello' - just like people did with the Yoichi family... or perhaps the boy simply wanted out of the fog. Ishido was beginning to feel that way himself; the fog didn't completely obscure Ishido's view, but it certainly made it harder to see than normal... which was a bit of an annoyance to Ishido.

Ishido's next move was to try to call out to the boy at the door. Surely, he'd know what was going on... wouldn't he?


[System]
RaceHuman-demon hybrid

Age27

Bio Madawc was born and raised in the outskirts of the capital city of Meche. His parents, just like himself, were perfectly ordinary humans working on a small private farm to make their own living and earn a bit of extra money by selling fruits and crops. That was until Madawc, being a very fit, exceptionally strong young boy, was drafted to serve the army of Meche. As the world is prone to descend into carnage, there was not enough time to give his unit a fully fledged training. They were pressed into battle long before its completion, the generals either being oblivious or, in a very malicious and ignorant way, very conscious about the fact that they were essentially using them as cannon fodder. It didn't take long for him to take an arrow's hit that normally would have been lethal.

However, a field covered with death sometimes does attract more than hungry scavengers. Some strange, incorporeal entity intruded his body as he was lying on the ground, the battle still going on around him. It was a demon, but it was not the way it is commonly told in horror stories: There was no hidden, epic and possibly eternal struggle between Madawc's mind and the demon's will, but they embraced each other as the demon had planned: You just have to offer the straw in the right moment. Not too soon, not too late. The demon did his best to temporarily seal his wounds and telling him what to do in order to get away.

After his recovery, Madawc soon found out how cunningly his new 'partner' had waited for the right moment, but it was too late for feeling angry. He was alive thanks to him. The demon also didn't make the mistake of being too fast too intrusive when it came to Madawc's thinking. They lived on together and merged slowly into one new entity, sharing the same, transformed body and both having their share out of the deal they made over time. Madawc did put considerable efforts into not allowing the information about his new true being getting public: He started hiding himself, becoming a kind of savage spending most of his time in the woods and only getting out when there was something to loot, be it food, alcohol or equipment.

Still, there are quite a few organizations that, via one way or the other, learned about his true being, and they would appreciate him getting caught: High commanders in the military of Escudo know about his existence and are eager to study him - perhaps there's something their magicians could learn from. The Red Dove would like to decapitate him outright for being what he is.

Personality He's an introvert who doesn't like to tell much about himself, especially not the truth, as this could easily attract those who want to harm him. Yet he sees when it is futile to continue denying things and gives in without hesitation when he feels that this could be the better way to handle a situation. Despite halfway being a demon now, he rarely becomes really aggressive or malicious. He knows that he's strong in his own way and can make his stand, he doesn't need to tell that everybody by rampaging frequently as most people would initially judge him to do. He wants to enjoy live: over-eating, over-drinking, personal amusement.

Appearance Madawc is very tall, featuring a body height that is quite far above average. If he's not wearing a helmet, he covers the visible parts of his skin with white and gray warpaint, as this hides his true complexion that is a mixture of dark red and blurred violet stains. His fingernails are strikingly pointed, reminiscent of small claws, but he tends to cover that as well. His hair is thick, black and relatively long. The eyes are a mixture of gray and a striking green. One doesn't have to look closely to see that he lacks quite a bit of discipline, resulting in a belly bulging about three inches over his girdle. On the other hand, he seems to be very fit, or at least noone can deny that he has a huge lot of muscular bulk: All in all, he weighs approximately 350 pounds.

Skills From a soldier's or even knight's standpoint, Madawc is not really adept in any kind of weapon as his time as a soldier lies quite in the past and training was never really completed. He isn't very agile either. However he is strong, capable of wielding weapons and lifting things people normally can't with ease. His demonic traits allow him to hurl blasts of very hot air at his enemies that can throw people out of balance if they're not prepared and will cause hypothermia. More prolonged exposure can be lethal. However using this magic repeatedly in a short period of time does put strain on himself, too. Aside from that, he's a survivalist. He knows what herbs and mushrooms can be eaten and which not and how to set traps and prepare a meal in the wilderness.

Equipment Basically everything in terms of armor and weapons is looted from fields of battle. He's using a two-handed hammer and wears a coat of mail with breast, back, shoulder and leg plates, completed by a helmet.

[User] "Nothing particular." Madawc answered, already having to chuckle. "I'm... sort of an adventurer as you'd probably call it." He saw what was happening and had to suppress an internal urge to start laughing. "Xavier ? Don't let things escalate too quickly, will you ?"

[Assistant]
"Oh wow what kinda adventures do you go on?" She asked him smiling curious of what he would say,"What is going on?" She said liking at the two of them confused even though she knew that the more had a hard on.

Xavier puffed his cheeks out not wanting to be teased moving back a little on his horse.

[User]
"Delivering some urgent messages here, slaying an evil dragon there..." He chuckled again. "No no. Not the latter one, of course." Well - at least the former item on his list was halfway correct. "Rather boring stuff to make a living." He didn't want to exaggerate things, but telling her that he was a savage because he was half demon also was not an option. Perhaps what he was telling her was true for Xavier.

His companion seemed to be occupied with other things however...

[Assistant]
"Wow you must be some sort of famous hero then?" Bette said with excitement in her voice,She meanwhile rubbed her back against the mute smiling internally to herself.

The mute was blushing still seeing the day slowly turning to night.

[User] "No. I'm far away from being a hero. I'm quite ordinary. Madawc glanced behind her to where Xavier was sitting as if he wanted to assure that the mute wouldn't object to that lie.

[Assistant] "Oh so does Mr.Big Hero and this cute Cinnamon roll fight any...Elder Ones?Or Deep Creatures?" Bette said looking over to Madawc smiling to him and referring to the mute as the cinnamon roll for being too cute."And if you can kill a dragon then im sure you can kill a Elder One" She said teasing with a big grin on her face.

[User] "Didn't I just say that the latter one was only a joke ? What do you think I'm capable of or do I have to demonstrate ?" Well.. she wasn't teasing him with him being fat. That was a plus point for her.

[Assistant] "Well once we find a big beasty then i would like to see you demonstrate this power of yours..." Bette said teasing him further with Xavier now pointing to the sky moaning softly. He wanted to communicate that it was getting dark and perhaps they should get a tent going.

[User]
"I'd prefer not running into trouble all the time..." Madawc answered to Bette, then noticed how Xavier was gesturing with his hand. "Am I correct if I assume that you want us to rest ?" He too could see that it was getting dark and as much as he would have preferred pressing on through the night as long as they could, he had to consider the other two persons as well.

The man turned off the road, Xavier's mount groaning and slowing down a lot when going up a hill Madawc had apparently selected as their location for the night. He got off of it and started to unpack their equipment and erect their tent.

"I hope this elevated position will serve us as it will make it easier to spot any threats that could come along from further away."

[Assistant]
Xavier nodded his head smiling while he followed Madawc to the hill,Stopping his horse and letting him rest unpacking his things.Confused he looked at his blanket that he would sleep in handing it Madawc so he could sleep and he could watch.Also so Bette could sleep with Madawc's blanket.

He didn't mind staying up until the wee hours of the morning in a way he was more of a night person and he loved seeing the dawn and dusk of the sky."Xavier you don't need to do that...you need to rest..." Bette said shaking her head smiling rubbing his arm.

[User]
"I have to agree. Last time you were on the watch the whole night, this time I'd like to do it. I'm not feeling tired anyway." There was another argument that he had in his mind that acted against letting Xavier take the duty: Madawc was worried that his companion would be too distracted by Bette...

He stepped over to the mute, towering both above him and the woman and being a huge lot broader. "You should perhaps take care of your horse. It seems to be totally exhausted."

[Assistant]
Xavier nodded his head walking over to his horse patting it's mane and feeding it some grass, He was so loving and caring when it came to animals has always been this way ever since he was a child. "Well we could both keep watch...if you like big man" Bette answered with a big smile on her face.

The mute was yawning softly getting a pasting glance form Bette.

[User] "Big man ?" Madawc arched an eyebrow. "But yeah, we could do the watch. Do you know how to fight ? Do you have weapons ?"

[Assistant] "Sure I can...and no I don't have a weapon on my person" She said wondering what weapon he would give her. Xavier meanwhile was getting ready to go to sleep keeping his helmet close to him in cause he or they get into a fight.

[User]
Madawc inspected the woman. She didn't seem to be strong, so wielding a large sword or even a hammer was out of question. He didn't have any alternate weapons himself and Xavier was already on his way to sleeping. "Wait a moment..."
He, once again, started to sift through his belongings in order to find something that could do the job. He came up with a knife he normally used not for fighting but as a tool. "Here. That's all I can muster. I don't think you could handle Xaviers big sword - sorry."

[Assistant] "Thanks..." She said taking the knife with a soft smile on her face,His blanket still wrapped around her body., Looking over to Xavier sleeping thinking how cute he was. Standing guard staying close to the mute while looking around the hill in case they would be attacked, From the corner of her eye she swore she could see some figures in the dark.

[User]
"Oh come on... don't tell me that there is yet another bunch of pesky things that wants our hides..." Madawc muttered to himself, but still with Bette being able to hear it. "I'm gonna check this out... You can stay here if you want, you aren't wearing armor. Perhaps wake up Xavier - just in case..."

The hulking demon got moving, heaving himself down the hill towards the weak silhouettes one could indeed see roaming around in the distance. His hammer was ready in his hands.

[Assistant]
Bette nodded her head walking over to Xavier smiling to him whispering something in his ear,"Hello..son of Azgorth..." She whispered to him shaking awake as he slowly opened his eyes. Moaning softly wondering what was going on with Bette telling him that their was a figure in the shadows.

Taking his sword heading down the hill while Bette watched smiling.

[User] Madawc accelerated his movement when he noticed that there indeed was something strange going on. Whatever it was, he intended slamming into it with full force as it was quite his style. He was too far away to hear which words Bette was waking up the mute with, otherwise he probably would have turned around, having the feeling that there was something even more strange and possibly dangerous going on behind his back.

[Assistant] Xavier had his helmet on running down the hill to join the demon man,Moaning softy wondering what was going on and why he was down here,Meanwhile Bette was watching them wondering what the mute was capable of. The mute was now looking around seeing some figures in the shadows wondering what they were.

[User]
Madawc really wasn't eager to wait any longer. He launched forwards, right into the shadows where they now all were believing to see things. There was a loud grunt, an outcry and the sound of someone falling to the ground, hard. Coming closer one could see that Madawc had just slammed full force into another man that now was lying a few yards in front of him in agony.

'You fat bastard. I've not done anything to you!' Judging by his behaviour, several bones were broken or at least partially fractured.
"Then why are you lingering around in the shadows carrying daggers and a bow ?"

[Assistant] Xavier moaned out loud pointing his sword at the man wondering why the man was lurking around in the shadows, Meanwhile Bette was watching them hoping that this new person would not caught onto her plan.


[System]
Allegiance: Gunners (former)
 Unaffiliated Mercenary(current)

Race: Human

Mostly like this, but longer facial hair and a few more scars, most notable of which is a large gouge that goes from underneath right eye to chin, that goes over the mouth.

Sex: Male

Age: 30

Inventory:
Apparel
* Dirty T-shirt, jeans, boots
* Full Gunner armor set, though the green paint is mostly faded and the Gunner symbols have been scratched away
* Military rucksack, worn on back

Weapons
* Semi-automatic combat rifle with reflex sight and bayonet, slung over abdomen when not in use
* 9mm pistol, unmodified, kept in hip holster
* Two combat knives, one kept in sheathe located on chest, and one hidden in boot

Misc.
* 5.56 ammunition, 50 rounds
* 9mm ammunition, 20 rounds
* One fragmentation grenade
* Two stimpaks
* Alcohol (One bottle of whiskey, one bottle of vodka)
* 450 bottlecaps

Backstory:
Joe used to be a Gunner. He didn't take pleasure in the job, but it was something he was good at. That, and it kept caps in his pocket and booze in his belly. Things were going fine in the Commonwealth, he had been stationed in a more populated area. That meant there was almost always an income of food and caps, given willingly or otherwise. Until one day, a new recruit opened fire on a lone passerby, under no orders to do so. What came next could only be described as a massacre. One man took on what was basically a fortress, and came out mostly unscathed. The stranger took everything of value, leaving the once thriving station desolate. Joe alone survived because he was out on patrol, thus the meager supplies he now carries.

Afterward, Joe denounced the Gunners, angrily scratching the symbols off his armor. They were supposed to be elite, yet they were taken down by one man. Joe then became a wanderer himself, mostly shunned by civilization, due to the armor, which still looked like the standard Gunner green. He took what jobs he could get, he wasn't picky. He couldn't afford to be. One week, he might be saving a child for weeping parents, the next he could be taking those same people into slavery. As long as he got paid. And Joe always made sure to get paid.

His latest job was the protection of a wealthy traveling merchant. At one of his stops, he overheard a conversation about something that came over the radio. Someone was recruiting travelers from all over the Commonwealth, something about stopping the Brotherhood's return. Joe was ambivalent towards them. He was human, after all, and not hoarding forgotten tech. But the mission was apparently going to be risky, and risky meant a hefty payday. So, once his contract with the merchant expired, he set off in search of who put out the call.

Personality:
Joe is reserved, and values strength. He doesn't communicate much, except to negotiate a contract or bark orders when they pertain to the safety of his client. He is quick to dismiss someone who shows signs of weakness. While not particularly intelligent, he maintains a cool head under pressure. He thrives in the battlefield, making shrewd use of his supplies. Not prone to making friends, because caring about others in battle makes you sloppy, and being sloppy makes you dead.

[User]
Unit X8-11
Institute Courser

---

A single figure sat by a fire, in the place once known as Charles View Amphitheater. Just a few hours earlier, a group of cultists had tried to rob him of his belongings. The Pillars of Community, they had called themselves.

And just how naive they had been.

No real community would ever thrive here, and the pile of scorched skeletons by the Courser proved that. Humanity's last hope had been deep underground, and the Brotherhood of Steel had recently taken a huge dump on it.

The message on the radio instantly caught X8's attention - Normally, he wouldn't have been tuned to this terrible joke of a station, but it seemed to be the only one left.. Save for a few distress signals and static, but that was of no interest to him. He carefully listened to the host's words and gathered his thoughts on them.

So, some person named Sky is looking to take down the entire Brotherhood, the most hated organization in the Wasteland, and is publicly announcing it on the radio? Can anyone really be stupid enough to fall for such an obvious trap?

However, the more he thought about it, the more intrigued he came to investigate the source of this transmission. What else was there to do, anyways? He didn't want to spend the rest of his days slaying meaningless con-artists and raiders. The synth slowly picked up his gear and disappeared to the city's ruins.

---

X8 stood at the Manor's doorstep right on time, and the blood stains on his lantern gave it's light a ghastly red hue.

"Hello. I received your message."

[Assistant]
The red-haired woman by the statue behind X8-11 continued staring down the road as he stood in the doorway. She seemed to pay him no mind as he'd approached and hadn't even looked at him as he passed her. Within the manor however, the figures seated around the table acknowledged his appearance in varying ways.

"Courser at the door." Sky mumbled, not taking her eyes off the small circular screen as she contemplated whether to move her knight or her bishop. Shin-mu, at the end of the table, turned her head ever so slightly, nodding politely in the newcomers direction before turning her attention back towards the ocean.

"Yes well," Zack said, turning to address the stranger, "You did ask for Synths. Hardly surprising that at least one of the Institutes Hunter-Killer models would be drawn here. So..." He said, sizing up the Synth hunter and paying no mind to the bloodstained lantern, "Did you come here hoping to reign in some desperate runaways or are you here for the job?"

[User]
Unit X8-11

---

The Courser dodged the question, not wanting to sign up for anything without knowing the full details.

"Right now I have no reason to trust you. I'm only here out of curiosity."

In reality, the reason was to find out the radio message's true purpose - X8 believed it could well be a bait set by the Railroad, used to lure in surviving synths like him and screw up their programming. If that would turn out to be the case, he was ready to slaughter everyone involved.

[Assistant]
The faint smell of saltwater brushed Joe's nostrils as he traveled seaward. He was getting closer, but had yet to find a lantern. Wonder what'll happen if I skip the lantern? Might end up in a fight. Might get some new loot. Joe's thoughts were cut short by a faint light bobbing in the distance. Though, I don't want to start off on the wrong foot with my new employers.

---

Joe sighed as the man cowered before him. Just some wanderer, probably a straggling caravaneer. But he had what Joe needed. Otherwise, Joe wouldn't even have bothered with him. Tough luck.

"But, it's too dark! If I give you my lantern, it'll be a death sentence for m-" he was cut off by the sound of Joe's pistol cocking.

"If you don't give it to me, it'll be a death sentence for you. Now, either put it on the ground, or I'll pry it off your corpse." Joe demanded.

The man's face contorted, faced with certain death or probable death. Just as the tears were beginning to form, his expression changed. Fear was replaced with anger, and his once trembling hands now clutched the lantern with white knuckles.

"Fine! Take it!" he screamed, and threw the lantern at Joe's feet. The lantern broke, spreading fire and causing Joe to fall back. Joe trained his crosshairs on the man's fading back, but holstered his weapon instead of firing. Waste of a bullet. he thought, Besides, he's got guts. Oughta make the mirelurks happy.

---

Joe sauntered past the sentry, who seemed to pay him no mind. Nonetheless, he was tense. This wasn't like any of the other jobs. There were two men speaking in the doorway, and what looked like two women in the house. One of the men was holding a bloody lantern, and looked severely out of place, compared to the others. Joe didn't think clothes that nice even existed anymore.

Joe tossed his broken, burnt lantern at the men's feet, announcing his presence.

"So, what's the pay?"


[System]
Wah. I'm gonna go with what the post says and dump this here.
Age:
Twenty-Juan.

Gender:
Manly.

Race:
Regular Human 4 Lyfe.

Weapon:

Aurellius' weapon is a little bit... over the top, some might say. His weapon, Ascalon, has two functions. One, is a piercing lance form, deadly against single targets. Its other form is a rapid fire mini-gun that fires off Dust-infused bullets. Of course, since his weapon is so large, Aurellius has a hard time carrying around the damn thing. Couldn't development had made it a little more light weight? To compensate for his rather slow speed while firing and charging, Aurellius bears a large burden over his shoulders. The backpack is a bit of a mix between an ammo cache and a jet-pack, and is roughly the size of an Army pack. Of course, he can't fly or anything. That would just go against the laws of physics.

No, his jet-pack is for maneuverability. Jets placed all over the pack allow him to use the thrusters to dodge out of the way of an attack, or thrust forwards in his lance form for an attack. His weapon is developed by the grand and marvelous Bellum Manufacturer Co. Don't yell at the name, that wasn't his idea. Anyway, the weapon is focused less on speed and maneuverability than other weapons, but easily makes up for it in sheer power. His backpack can hold up to two thousand infused rounds, so he really has to stock up soon or he'll run out of ammo. His boosters also use Dust, and so have limited uses. Still, don't bash the Lance, it's made from a specially designed alloy that allows it to pierce even the thickest of shells. And hey, lances don't run out of ammo. His mini-gun also has to take time spinning up.

Specialty:
Getting in close and fucking the shit out of everything. Well, that's only the gist of it. Really, the idea is to soften his enemies up with lead, and then getting in close to bash things around with his lance. In terms of class, he'd be a hybrid between Warrior and Gunslinger, with a tad of tank splashed in even though he doesn't use much armor. Oh, and tactical rolls.

Semblance:
Boy I Love The Color Red.. Aurellius' special Semblance is the ability to completely purge pain from his system. Doing this allows him to ignore any sort of nudging from his stupid nerves and tap into much more speed and strength. Of course, doing this is pretty damn bad for the body. There's a reason your body stops you from punching too hard or jumping too far. His muscles literally rip themselves into pieces while trying to fight harder. That, and gaping wounds are a thing that shouldn't be ignored.

Personality:
Aurellius' personality is a bit skewed. He never really got much contact with other kids growing up, seeing as he had a private teacher ready for him when he was just a wee lad. Still, that doesn't mean he's a messed up loner. Aurellius is, well... slick. Businessmen have this chivalrous and charismatic sense of personality about them. Still, Aurellius is ruthless, and isn't afraid to leave behind anyone slowing the group down. He isn't fond of Faunus either. They're just a bunch of sub-human weirdos, with god damn rabbit ears and cat tails. Its weird, and most don't look good in suits. Still, Aurellius is a little... compassionate of his friends, if you're lucky enough to become one. You're either a friend or just another person. That, or you're family.

Color:
Stark blood red.
Emblem:
His sigil makes its appearance on the guard of his weapon. A simple red and white dragon is his family crest and it fits quite well.

Appearance:

Aurellius is a rather handsome young man. With blonde hair, blue eyes, and a tall stature with broad shoulders, he would make a father proud just to look at him. Of course, not to mention his attire. Suits. Always suits. If you choose not to wear a suit, you're not doing it right. A good tie and a good suit make any appearance just that much better. Don't expect to see Aurellius wearing much other than a suit, even in combat. Armor, even though the golds and reds might look nice, are just too bulky for Aurellius' already weighed down load. Other than that, Aurellius is best known for his wicked grin.

[User]
Kuhaku Shiro - 4th Period, Armory Class

Hearing his allowance to remain in class, Shiro brightly beamed and grinned. As the professor began his lesson with a introductory lecture in Dust, Shiro quickly pulled out his Scroll and located Sapphire and Mokuren in the Beacon Directory application installed on it. Sending them each a short text message, thanking them both for their concerns.

To: Rode, Sapphire
From: Kuhaku, Shiro
Subject: Thanks!
"Hey, just wanted to thank you for your concern about my health and wellbeing. Thanks again, team leader!"

To: Sabella, Mokuren
From: Kuhaku, Shiro
Subject: Thank you! :D
"Hey, thank you for your offer to help me out when I may have been hurt. I'm glad to know that we're all looking out for each other! :3

P.S. - I know we're all on different teams, but I hope to get to know you better in the future and we become good friends! x3"

Shiro's ears perked as his cheeks tinged a slight pink from sending the second message to Mokuren. With a big smile on his face, he expanded his Scroll into a tablet mode and began to take notes. Typing with swift efficiency as he devoted the remainder of his attention to the Professor's words. He wasn't too skilled in utilizing Dust in its raw, pure form, so he could stand to pay close mind. He was only familiar with using the Dust-based ammunition. As he recorded his notes, an odd scent wafted into his nostrils. He could detect stress within the room, looking up, he saw Geni and another student glaring daggers at each other. Though, unsure why, he frowned and tilted his head. Did those two know and not like each other?

"Did I miss something here?"
Just then, a question popped into his head.
"Oh!"
Raising his hand, he waited for the professor to address him.
Once properly addressed, Shiro asked "Excuse me, Professor? I apologize for disrupting your lesson, but may I ask when we'll be able to start working on our equipment? Such as maintenance and fine-tuning?"
He lowered his arm and waited patiently for a response.

[Assistant]
Gren orchid

Gren took note of Sapphire's insistence that Shiro head to the infirmary. Gren just sighed. If she wanted him to act more... Modest, she should try to talk to him about that than just expect him to spontaneously heed her demands. Gren didn't think that Shiro's introduction was too bad. it certainly seemed like it was unique enough to earn him a new friend in the form of the fox girl. Gren had watched her fight and was able to analyze her fighting ability, to at least what little of it she showed. She seemed to have some sort of deflective semblance if what her opponents and what his observations were true. He came to this conclusion since he heard tales of her "cheating", though apparently this amounted to simply relying on one's semblance over their trained abilities. So putting two-and-two together he could figured that the fox fauna's semblance allowed her to easily win her battle due to reflecting her opponent's attack back at her. A fearsome opponent indeed. Gren wondered if such a semblance could be replicated.

And that's what Gren's weapons focused on. Not more guns or blades, though that was always a nice addition. No, he wanted to create weapons that would augment his aura and utilize his semblance. There was only so many weapons Gren could wield at once, but if he could make something that complimented his armament, the better. Gren actually had a lot of schematics in the works that he just hasn't been able to work out. One was miniaturizing The God Eater into something more compact but equally as effective. If he could make it small enough to be used in one hand, he could potentially make two and increase his firing power. Gren also tried to pay attention to Chatsworth, but what he was telling them about dust Gren already knew. He did however wonder how dust could affect one's semblance, or vice versa. He imagined what it would be like to combine the flaming properties of certain dust to his Friction Semblance. Something akin to napalm perhaps? Or use the friction to create an intense heat, burning through all that it touches? Questions that Gren would want to test and see.


[System]
Character Sheet
Notable Parents: None
Age: 22
Sex: Female
Hair Color: Black
Eye color: Green
Appearance: 1.73m tall, her straight hair reaches down to her shoulders. Natasha is quite skinny for a woman her age, in fact many would say she is skin and bones only. Her skin is pale to the point she appears constantly sick… which is almost true. Just as her mentor, she wears a long black dress of interesting design.

Weapon: Somewhat thin and light looking staff, but in reality her real weapon is her magic.
Any Armor: A single sturdy crystal armguard on her left hand.
Biography: Born on Besaid island after the eternal calm, Naisha had a happy childhood. She grew up around the heroes who lived in the village and even grew up to love blitzball. She loved to swim and to run around waving sticks and wooden swords, dreaming that she will one day become a great warrior. One day though she came down with a terrible sickness. No one was sure what exactly it was and while magic seemed to help somewhat, she didn't recover completely. The strong and energetic girl, became rather weak and frail. Ever since that time she fell sick, her body was constantly weak. After even small amount of exertion, she would be forced to stay in bed for at least a day. As such her dreams of becoming a warrior and a blitzball player were shattered. All of that happened when she was 5. For almost a year Naisha secluded herself in her room, not really showing her face out much. Her family became very concerned for their daughter's wellbeing. Running out of options, they asked Lulu to teach her magic, hoping that once she realizes that even in her condition, she still had options besides warrior or player, she would at least stop locking herself away in her room.
 As it turned out she had a natural affinity for black magic. It still proved somewhat tiring even if it was mostly mental exhaustion. The young Naisha fell sick easily, but slowly she made progress. Within a year, her body got a little bit stronger, and she at least was able to walk around town without much troubles. She was able to meet her friends again and even if she was no longer able to play with them blitzball or practice swordplay, she was at least with them, smiling once again. Still even now when she sees blitzball players, a slight note of jealousy strikes her, but even more than that, she is happy that someone's dreams of becoming a player were accomplished. Sadly due her condition her movement is somewhat limited, she isn't able to walk great distances as even a normal paced walk from one end of the village to the other makes her breath quite heavily and feel pain in her chest. That staff of hers has also the function of walking stick for when her legs get weak. Still only that staff isn't enough so she has a special chair she uses to move around in greater distances. It's moving on small scaled engine and some special magic crystals that make it float slightly above the ground. Naisha still has to charge the crystals with float magic every day, but otherwise it seems to be working reasonably well. .
Personality: For a person who appears so sickly all the time and easily tired, Naisha is rather noisy. She likes to talk a lot with her friends, likes to meet people and to hear stories from beyond Besaid island. She plans to leave to island to explore the world. She also likes to use her magic a lot. Even though it's dangerous she likes to go hunt monsters and burn them to a c crisp… or turn them in ice cubes.
Are you arriving in Besaid or Living there? Living there.

[User]
Alex flicked her blue eyes toward the thief and Eva with a cold untrustworthy glare. "You're probably only just using her for some sort of plan. Didn't seem you really care for people when you use a injured person's bed as a workbench. You probably just want the benefits of being with a summoner. Or worse, what you could do." Alex growled, but huffed a little.

"But do what you want. Gippal and Urick can at least watch over you. Hopefully." Alex grumbled before her eyes fixed on Naisha one again. Frowning a little as the Mage noticed her obvious deformed features and started freaking out again.

Alex was about to attempt to comfort her friend but froze as Gippal moved in and comforted Naisha, wiping the tears away. The red head felt the hair on the back of her neck, her blue eyes slightly narrowing. Unlike seeing Saina or the thief touching Naisha, Alex wasn't angry. Just... Uneasy. And with the uneasiness came dissapointment and regret. Perhaps fear. Which just made the dissapointment stronger.

At Gippal's words, Alex couldn't help but grunt with irritation. "Don't lie to her." Alex muttered, unable to hold the bitter words back. Alex knew exactly what it meant to be a Guardian. It was a childish dream of hers and one of the set of rules she knew well. Whether they liked it or not, he was leaving. Again. And Alex doubted he'd take Naisha with him. In the end, he was a guardian. And the summoner came first. And the Summoner was the one to decide who came on the journey. So it just irritated her even more when he would make such a promise.

Standing up, she let Naisha's hand go and stepped away. "I'm going out now she's awake. Take care of her." Alex said with a growl to Gippal before walking out of the room.

The tall woman didn't mean to sound so bitter. Not while Naisha was upset anyway. Probably why she had to leave. Before she said something. Before she made the matter worse. Might as well do something productive. Gippal and Urick were better at making people feel better anyhow. She didn't know how to deal with it without panicking.

Perhaps it was a little bit manipulative and a jerk move to force Gippal
in a position to stay or leave Naisha unprotected without a friend by leaving, but she couldn't think of much else at the moment. Maybe Yuna or Lulu knew something about Naisha's condition and how to help her.

The moment Alex stepped out of the door, her sense grew fuzzy as a hard wave of rustic smell seemed to smash her face in. It was so thick that she had to scrunch her nose as she continued to walk. Her blue eyes gazed around her, watching people pass. Soldiers, civilians... Yet they didn't seem to feel like they were about to hurl. They just seemed sad. This smell. It was blood. A lot of blood. It made her mind hazy, as her eyes darted around. Yet it didn't seem like too much blood was about. Most seemed to be cleaned up already. Yet it felt like she was in a blood bath. Just like when she examined Naisha's blood though, she didn't feel.... Disgusted about it. Her brain was hazy, a soft humming emitting and she could hear whispers that said nothing at the same time.

Then it felt like she was drowning. Couldn't breathe. When she tried talking, gurgling was only heard before she coughed. Reaching some fingers to her lips, she felt a warm thick liquid. Strange. Had she worked too hard? This only happened at the temple usually. Maybe she was just too stressed out. Lady Yuna did say she needed to relax more often. Too much stress caused problems.

It didn't matter though.

Alex, swallowing a thick gulp of blood, she continued walking. Blue eyes focusing to examine the area. Her heart was racing. And she felt anger boil within her. Yet she couldn't think of a good reason for it. Maybe it was the blood. How many people were killed or hurt. Yes. It must be because of Thane she felt this anger boil.

Knocking on Naisha's door, the tall woman waited for a answer before entering the house. Searching the home for any sign of her parents, but found none. They must not be here yet. Deciding to leave, Alex continued wandering before perking up and finding Yuna. Giving a sigh of relief, the tall woman quickly went over and smiled, hugging the High Summoner tightly who gave a gasp and wiggled a little as her legs were lifted off the ground.

"Lady Yuna! You're okay!" Alex cheered.

"Ack! Can't..... Breathe.... Alex...!" Yuna gasped causing Alex to blink before setting the older woman down and grinned sheepishly.

"Oh. Sorry. Glad you're okay. Is everyone else okay?" Alex asked with some concern in her voice.

"Yeah. A bit roughed up. But they'll be okay. How's Gippal, Urick and Naisha?" Yuna asked softly.

Alex sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "The guys are fine. Naisha's alive. But... I wouldn't say she's okay." she said softly.

[Assistant]
After Urick came up to her and Eva, he motioned for everyone to move out. Something Saina silently nodded in agreement to as she looked up at the hulking man before her. She glanced in the direction of Naisha before making sure Eva was being aided by Urick, only to see the redhead she ignored storming out the door. She glanced at Urick and Eva with a quirked brow, her emotionlessness returning before she stepped out of the door herself. By that time, the redhead was long gone. She inhaled deeply as the sun kissed her pale skin and she closed her eyes. No doubt the others would be following suit in no time and she decided to take a step away from the homes opening to allow the passage of others to continue outward. Her hand rested on the hilt of her katana, but it was relaxed in a manner she preferred. She liked it being there, made her feel secure she supposed. Her hand found its way to the pocket of her cloak once more and she felt the sphere that Thane had left earlier, her long fingers tracing the indents of the small machine thoughtfully. Whenever the others had filed out, she spoke up.

"I should go check on my chocobo."

She declared this not to actually check on Mercury, after all he could more or less handle himself regardless of the conditions of the stables, but she felt it would be important to give the summoner, the mechanic, the muscular man and the man in the red coat a chance to talk. Though--on second thought, Urick wouldn't enjoy being forced into that spotlight. She turned to the group.

"Supplies should also be gathered before we start our journey. Perhaps now would be a good time to go together and make one last round throughout the town before heading off?"

There, the offer had been made. She knew Urick was loyal but now if he wanted an out from having to introduce Maximus, he had it. Sifen, Eva, or even Maximus himself were free to join as they pleased. Even if no one came, the time to herself would be beneficial to study the sphere Thane had left behind.


[System]
Age: 22

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Class: Mayonite Paladin

Appearance:

Personality: Marc is a noble, proud man with nothing but kind words for everyone, even his enemies. All individuals are worth his time, as it is his duty to aid those in need. He possesses a deadpan sort of humour but is not snarky or given to jibes. Most of all, though, Marc is honourable, and willing to be fair and noble towards all and will never judge an enemy without hearing the full story. All can be redeemed in his eyes! He is, however, a little self-conscious about his height, being six foot five and towering over most people.

Brief Backstory: Born to the noble Ferrus family of Velt, Marc was encouraged early on to join the Holy Order of Mayon due to his peaceful and wise nature. While he was a studious, yet strong boy, the Moon Goddess appealed to him, and he found it a great honour to be in her service. As such, he became a Paladin of the Moon Goddess, sworn to uplold the peace in her name.

Equipment: Marc wears a suit of heavy armor to protect himself. It is not enchanted, instead being sturdy and solidly built and held up by Marc's exceptional strength. He also possesses a heater shield, embossed with the rose of Mayon, and enchanted to temporarily freeze any weapon that comes into contact with it. He does not use the traditional tower shield, though he is trained in its use, as it is too cumbersome for tight fighting environments. He wields a spear, Guardian, kept very sharp and pointy and enchanted with icy powers that are activated when the spear is impaled into an enemy, chilling them to the bone and, given a bit of time, freezing them solid. He also carries Protector, a very sharp arming sword with the same enchantment as his spear at his hip.

Abilities:
Trained Fighter - Marc is exceptionally skilled in the art of sword, shield and spear, leading him to a defensive yet rapid style of fighting where he wears the opponent down while remaining in top form.

Physical Powerhouse - Having trained for many years, Marc Ferrus is absolutely a walking tank, able to take blows in his armor while barely flinching. Despite this, he is not cumbersome, instead rather quick and precise, as he has trained in his armor and with his weapons for so long that they no longer encumber him. He may not move so much, but he rarely needs to.

Charismatic - Marc is a really nice guy. People tend to flock to him and he is perfectly happy to lend them his time.

[User]
Fieri Angharad's dedicated searching eventually paid off. Sure enough, there was a sizable hole in the building's foundation. Though it was too high off the ground to simply walk into, the stonemasonry below it was rough and uneven-- perfect for climbing. Using her hands to propel her upwards and her muscular tail as a muscular anchor, Fieri gradually slithered up to and through the precipice without any trouble. With one mighty lunge, Fieri heaved herself into the tower's innards... and landed heavily on a moldering stone staircase. There were no innards, save for a single winding staircase.

Fieri grunted with equal measures frustration and pain. No lobby meant no easy place to set up shop! She'd be forced to crawl into the moldy musty underbelly of this damned dungeon! Worse yet, she'd have to use the stairs! Accidentally slamming the base of her tail on every step, Fieri slowly and achingly began making her way down the stone stairway.

Just as Fieri was starting to ponder about the depth of this seemingly-endless staircase, she heard a soft click. A trap had been sprung! The stone steps slowly began to angle themselves downward and rescind, leaving only a slippery, wet, stony ramp! This surprising change of events, while potentially disastrous for a biped, served only to make the snake-bodied Fieri's job easier. Her tail muscles easily gripped the imperfections in the stone steps, and all downward progress was handily halted. With no steps to bruise her tail on, Fieri quietly praised the designers of the Mad King's dungeon for their diligent concern for handicapped intruders.

At the base of the stairs was a quite inconvenient gap. Presumably, bipedal intruders would have found themselves sliding unstoppably to whatever lied below. Fieri, however, managed to stop herself in time. Coiling her tail and springing it forward, Fieri leaped over the gap and made it to the floor beyond with a meaty thud. Suffering only a few tail bruises and a wet underbelly, Fieri surged with confidence. She continued on into the depths of the dungeon, in search of plunder and marketing opportunities.

[Assistant]
Liliane had noticed that her yell hadn't gone unheard. The rather small paladin had called her (and possibly a few others) over. Liliane took one step forward and heard another shout by one of the tiny paladin's companion. The second yell was unexpected. "Aye?" Liliane yelled back to him, wondering why he knew that she was a treasure hunter.

Liliane, with tree nuts in hand, walked over to the mini-paladin's table. Liliane then noticed that the small competition between the soldier lady and man who looked like an average warrior had spiralled into someone's arm being gnarled. Luckily, the arm appeared to be tended to by a foreign person.

Liliane stood there, amazed that so many events could happen at a bar in less than 8 minutes.

[User]
Al nodded at the doctor's words. He understood that alcohol was good. A trained medical professional only confirmed that it could cure outside injuries, not just inside ones.

The swordsman immediately bought a very large, very strong bottle of whiskey, slipping it inside his bag.

"I think it's like a tomb or something. I knew some guys that cleared out the upper floors the other month; they made out with some decent loot. It's got like traps and stuff, but if you're looking for cash we can head towards the lower floors." he explained to the dog girl. Or was it a fox girl? Al made a mental note to ask after he'd secured a paycheck.

"Yeah, I'll join. It'll be an adventure!" he told Marc, emphasizing 'adventure' by pounding his fist into his hand, as the mental note was buried under thoughts like 'That tail is rather fluffy' and 'I hope Haldric's tomb doesn't have terribly many snakes'.

[Assistant]
"A-adventure!" Sergeant Wykes waved about in a dizzy fashion. "Okay miss Paladin. I'll join you." Sergeant Wykes offered, looking down at her arm. She tried moving her arm, but the act was met with more pain than anything else. In other words, the splint was effective. The knight attempted to pick at her arm a little bit. She wondered what it would be like should she have an itch- not that it mattered quite yet.

Sergeant Wykes attempted to reach to her back, untying the knot right off her neck as she moved the arm a little bit out to stretch. "Oh... it's all better" Cristine giggled in drunken confusion. She hiccuped again and began shadowboxing at the air.

"Thanks bird lady"

[User]
Tanya cleared her throat. Good, the soldier woman was healed, and everything seemed to have quite nicely quieted down. And indeed, there were many who seemed rather interested in what she had to say. Even the drunken woman, who would hopefully sober up before they got going. Tanya was not to keen on taking a drunk into a dungeon, especially for a mission as important as this. To be fair, the lack of exposure to the deepest point of Haldric's Prison-Castle meant she was not sure exactly what evil lurked there, but regardless bringing someone who was drunk seemed a poor idea. However, some people sobered up quickly, a fact that Tanya was glad for in any situation.

"The Prison-Castle of the Mad King Haldric is not too far from here," she began, "And within it, a terrible evil lies. There is a reason goblins are drawn to it and it's filled with mindless undead. There's something at the bottom. Something acting as a beacon to foul creatures like that. As a Paladin of Reon, it is my duty to eradicate evil such as this. However, many of my usual allies are unable to accompany me. With two exceptions."

She paused for a moment, glancing from Sophia to the Mayonite Paladin and back. "That is why I have come to this...

Tanya paused for a moment. She hated taverns.

"... Wonderful place. In order to gather a party to reach the final floor of the Prison-Castle and slay the darkness there. I will only take a small amount of wealth for the Church, all else may be divided between each of you."

Indeed, Tanya certainly did not want for wealth.

"Sophia, our scholar and nun, will inform you more of the Prison-Castle."

[Assistant]
Not a sound was made as Fieri's leathery tail slithered along the confines of Haldric's Prison-Castle. The halls ahead, barren and looted long ago, were dimly lit by still-burning torches helpfully placed by the castle's previous plunderers. The gloomy light emitted by the torches playfully flickered along the floor, revealing conspicuously missing tiles. On closer inspection, the tiles appeared to be pressure plates long-ago uprooted, their mechanic innards looted and sold. A brief splash of inspiration struck Fieri-- the forester said something about this castle being filled with traps. All I need to do it loot them, and I'll be rich! An evil glint shone in Fieri's eye, as a whole range of mercantile opportunities opened themselves to her. Fieri slithered on.

The nondescript, winding walls of the Prison-Castle gradually began to reveal more and more of their creator's personal tastes. Though the castle's ancient traps had been made almost obnoxiously conspicuous through either previous adventurers' markings or their mechanisms obvious absence, they were becoming alarmingly common. Every few yards, another shattered or removed pressure plate would cross her view. Whatever the Prison-Castle's previous occupants did, it was clear that they had to do it carefully. The sheer density of traps on this floor spoke volumes of the Mad King's paranoia. Fieri, harrowed but unwilling to turn back, occupied herself by brainstorming. Fieri, being an entrepreneur, knew that she couldn't earn any customers by simply offering services, she would have to offer goods as well. A proof of concept could go a long way to ensure that she would be worth the money she wanted from them. To do that, she would need to Artifice. To Artifice, she needed ideas. It was at that point that Fieri activated a cleverly-hidden spike trap.

In retrospect, Fieri probably shouldn't have been thinking so hard on what enchantments would be useful, especially given where she was. It was only thanks to dumb luck and the misfortune of a previous adventurer that Fieri avoided impalement. Instead of meeting hard, rusty steel at the end of a spike, Fieri was instead struck with the corpse of a leather-clad humanoid, rotted far beyond the point of recognizability. For a moment, Fieri was dumbstruck. Then, like a bloated float rising from the depths, Fieri emitted an animal noise, mindless and pained. What started as an idiot's croak grew quickly into a shrill scream, and Fieri flung herself backwards until her back slammed into the wall. Fieri, overcome with panic, curled up into the fetal position, and began sobbing hysterically.

[User]
"Kill a demon, loot the treasure. I know the deal." Al gave a large smile at the paladin, adjusting his sword sling.
"It's nothing I don't already do on a regular basis anyways. Heck, I even know the way from here." he said, opening the large tavern doors, letting in a fresh draft of air from outside.

"I think it's time we blow this scene. Get everybody and the stuff together." he said, stepping outside.

[Assistant]
"Alright guy who broke my arm. I guess I'm gonna follow you until I get my revenge. WOOHOO!" Cristine spun around drunkenly. She felt herslf to make sure nothing was missing, unscrewing the pommel on her sword, then twisting it back to make sure it was tight. "Buh-bye" she waved the tavern before opening the door and stepping through, leaving the door open to let in the draft.

Sergeant Wykes unhinged her horse and got on. It seemed that while her mental status was off, she still had some level of coordination. In fact, it was not the first time Sergeant Wykes had rode a horse drunk.

"Weeheehee!"

[User]
Both the big guy and the purple child explained to her about this castle, but Haruka still didn't quite understand. What she wanted to know was why Haldric was so angry, but no one seemed intent on answering. Perhaps nobody knew. Perhaps she would have to find out herself. Also, she guessed that there was evil and money there too. If Haruka knew anything, it was that evil was bad and that she needed more money. Thus, it was decided.

Haruka excitedly rushed out of the tavern behind the big guy and the drunk woman, who was fine now somehow. Either Westerners were also amazing at healing, or else Haruka's skills have become so fantastic that she could mend a broken arm completely in minutes. Either way, it was fascinating to her. She still didn't quite know what was going on, but everyone was really excited and that made her excited too.

"OK," she cried out, "3, 2, 1, let us travel now to our destination!"

[Assistant]
Well three people had just left, leaving only the treasure hunter lookalike and the robed man. This would not do!

"I had better follow them!" Marc promptly declared. "They have no idea the danger and excitement that awaits them! I'll fill them in on the way! I hope to see you there once we reach the dungeon Lady Tanya, Miss Sophia!"

And like that he was out the door, pursuing Al, Wykes and the strange fox lady. Still unarmed and unarmored. "Wait, wait!" he called after the departing trio. "Before you leave, I must gather my equipment! It is at the orphanage, see. I have been staying with them, as they will be receiving my share of the reward!" Once again, Marc Ferrus was daft enough to try and explain everything to everyone at every time.


[System]
GENDER: Female (she/her)
AGE: 19

APPEARANCE:

BACKGROUND: Daughter to a carpenter and a poet, Ardonne was steeped in the fantastical from an early age. She was one of the few girls in her hometown, the village of Bresh, to become fully literate before her tenth birthday; a precocious habit that stuck to her psyche like glue and became one of many damning marks against her. Her father needed a woodsman, not a daughter, and reared Ardonne as such. Her mother valued the virtues of femininity and oft imparted lectures and lessons to smooth the roughness of her eldest's character but only found purchase in deciding what Ardonne would read. Her weapon of choice in securing a steadfast daughter was the fairy tale and with it, the enchantment of the forest heightened to extremes. Ardonne never demonised the woods for taking her father at the tender age of twelve because of these tales.

The wilderness and the thrill of its stalked borders fascinated the youth and became a symbol of escapism, of paternal guidance, and of immeasurable danger. In her father's absence, Ardonne brought hares and even the odd doe to the table. In the hardships of famine during winter she scraped the lichen off the cairns and chopped the firewood herself. She stared into the depths of the North road and waited to be acknowledged by its fearsome resident, figuring herself as less of a damsel and more of an errant knight. These fancies were dashed quite swiftly with her mother's remarriage and though Ardonne revelled in the beauty and allure of Bresh's transformation for a springtime wedding, the veneer faded into the tight grip of patriarchy. Her younger half-brother was the golden child and placed before her in most aspects of life. Ardonne started to find a bitter satisfaction in the sting of the false father's palm on her cheek because, to her, it signified a step in the right direction. Make no mistake - the villagefolk regarded the biligerent Ardonne as churlish, coarse, and airheaded. She was being stubborn for the sake of stubborn and chased her childhood to its ragged edges. She spent too long replicating her fairy tales and clutching to the ghost of a brave but foolish carpenter who underestimated the horrors in the woods and it was widely believed she'd go down the same path. What Ardonne perceived as mystifying solitude was simply her peers' aversion to her surliness. What she saw as daring skirmishes along the forest borders were dangerous and stupid forays into hostile territory. The only benefit to her gambols came in a sometimes bloodied burlap sack and went unacknowledged into the meals for a few days after, and her shirking of her familial duties resulted in the dictation of her future without her input as she was too busy traipsing in mud to notice.

When Ardonne did notice - when Bresh readied itself for a grand springtime festival, her measurements were taken, and a middling merchant man often frequented her home - she took to her heels and found solace in the one place she'd always flown back to at the slightest instance of discomfort. Only this time, in her typical fashion, she submitted her fate to whatever lurked between the branches; wholly disregarding the very real and not-so-fantastical stories from whoever was lucky enough to crawl out of its murky depths.

MOTIVATION: Some short weeks prior to the group's venture into the forest, Ardonne decided that she found death in the jaws of the Beast preferable to life in the arms of the Province. That said, her ambitious escape attempt is distorted and romanticised by her choice in literature; it is far more likely that her dreams will be met with a narrow escape or a rude awakening.

GEAR:
-A yew shortbow with a quiver containing 15 arrows.

-A butcher's knife, wholly unsuitable for combat due to its one-sided sharp edge and utilitarian blunt-tipped shape, but heavy enough to be used to skin and dress animal carcasses.

-A field guide for local fauna and flora in the Faro Province, dogeared and kept in a waterproof leather satchel on her belt.

-A bedroll and mess kit.

-Two flasks of water and a bag full of smoked rabbit, dried blackberries and chanterelle mushrooms. Chunks of stale bread.

[User]
If there was one thing Zahir hadn't been expecting when approaching that girl, it was to practically be completely ignored. For her to run, or to attempt to fight, those were both eventualities he'd been preparing for and for the first time in a while he felt slightly confused. An emotion which while sharp and sudden faded quickly, as it became just one of many "firsts" he'd experianced over his life. At some point he'd just simply learned to accept that new things happened, he could never know everything.

At the very least, the girl was safe for now, so in a roundabout way he'd succeeded in his objective. That thought brought a faint, fleeting smile to the lips hidden behind the mask, the kid hadn't died on his watch. Even better they seemed to have wandered over towards the party, adding one more to the number of people he could protect on this adventure.

All that seemed left for him to do was wander lazily back to the group, picking up and sheathing his blade on the way. From the outside the old mans movements may have looked practically careless, ponderous even, but there was a certain attentiveness to him. He wasn't  looking for the beast, that was true, not that looking was going to do much good in the dark, at least for him. Years of sitting happily by a campfire whenever it got dark has ruined much of his nightvision, no he was listening for it. After all if he was gonna sit around campfires for years making himself a target, he needed to hear if a danger was coming, cause they'd sure as hell see him first. That or hear a commanding officer over the yells of combat.

That man ... Heddwyn, as he gave his suggestions Zahir nodded happily, he liked this man already. A nice rest would be welcome, give him a chance to rest. Of course, he'd take one of the watches, warm himself by a nice fire and get some drink in him. The wind would sting of course, but for the few patches which still felt anything it was a comforting sensation.

 "I agree with that, a nice protected spot. Though anywhere I could rest my bones would be welcome. If anyone wants a drink, I've got some in my pack I could share."

He paused to smile briefly to himself, it would be nice to hear some new stories.  "And if you're worried about taking watch, I can do plenty of it, it is my profession after all."

[Assistant]
Heddwyn carefully listened to his new companions, though he couldn't help but find Talic's mention of sleep did cause the cleric to look at him a bit more quizzically.

While Heddwyn thought it would be wise to prepare camp, food, and rest; scavenging about in the woods for the monster in the morning seemed a far cry. He doubted such a feat would be allowed if they were truly close enough to hear the bellows of its inhuman speech. In fact, the cry in the woods that sounded like the twisted creature they had been tasked to hunt threw the cleric's hairs on end. His face may not have showed it, but he was concerned. Especially so that they had volunteered a child into their midst.

As their lead sharpshooter looked to procure an ideal site, Heddwyn kept a close eye on the forests, trying to pinpoint the relative direction the noisome sound had come from. It wouldn't be until another commented on the spot being fine enough that he diverted his attention back with a calm smile. The same man apparently had volunteered to take first watch, noting it had been his profession. Professions were an interesting base, and no-one's profession had been previously inclined. Heddwyn wondered if their curiosities would cause concern when they learned that his general combat experience was relatively small in comparison to theirs. Most of them were fighters and despite a formal education in swordplay, Heddwyn was certainly no veteran knight. His skill with a sword was tertiary at best, after all.

He supposed such anxieties were normal, but he made it a priority not to mislead them just the same.

"Let's make camp, then."

[User]
As the night descends and the unlikely hunting party settles down amid the stones, a lull falls over the Cullis Woods. For now, there is no more sound than the soft whisper of an uneasy evening breeze through the grass, and whatever conversation might be found around a makeshift firepit.

The sky turns from purple to navy to black as coal, studded here and there with scatterings of stars where they peek through the clouds. All is as calm as any other night.

A branch snaps, and some small creature (a squirrel, or a mouse) gives a short, muffled squeak of distress as its brief life is made briefer. This time, there's a sinister edge to the silence that wasn't there before.

Those used to staying alert might find the hairs on the nape of their neck standing on end.

The treeline is dark and inscrutable. Something is watching silently from the woods.

[Assistant]
Ardonne seemed moody, reticent and standoffish. In reality she was absolutely terrified.

For one, she wasn't expecting to be delayed. She wasn't throwing furtive glances towards the border of the woods but rather the village she had come from, faint lantern lights in the windows and goodness knows how many searching eyes staring back in her direction. All it would take is one curious soul or one concerned maid for the town bell to start ringing and search parties to spread out and look for her. She sat with her knees drawn to her chest, looking away from the group and burying her nose and mouth in the crook of her elbow as she idly flipped the pages of her field guide resting on the grass near her hip. Her bow was propped against one of the rocks within arm's reach.

She hadn't said a word since her companions foiled her suicide mission. At the moment, she was coming off as a belligerent little girl compared to the seasoned fighters flanking her.

[User]
While Mort inwardly questioned the wisdom of allotting the group's youngest and most foolhardy member watch duty, it was neither his business to control Ardonne's affairs nor inquire as to what inner turmoil seemed to render her insomniac. Instead he allowed himself to drift off, uncommonly comfortable in and accustomed to the meager accommodations the wilderness provided. It would hardly be the first time he made the earth his bed and the night his sheets, and with any luck, he reflected as he dozed, it would not be his last.

A little rest did not render him oblivious to the world, however. After some time passed, Mort stirred from his light sleep. Whether by chance, reaction, or some sort of instinct, he awoke to stare across the darkened landscape and into the pitch black of the Cullis Woods, where not even the faint, dreamy moonlight reached. A feeling in his gut told Mort that something or another was amiss. That sort of impulse didn't always tell him straight, not even most of the time, but long years and a good few scars taught Mort that he shouldn't let the rule mask the rare -and dangerous- exceptions. Besides, if ever there was a time to be cautious, it would be on the brink of the domain of the infamous Beast.

Slowly, Mort slid up with his back to a rock, and focused. He narrowed his eyes as he scanned the treeline, trying to make out every little variation in shape or color. He strove to tune out the wind and the rhythmic rustle of leaves in the canopy, listening instead for anything abnormal. A shuffling-aside of the underbrush, the creak of a branch that a weight settled upon, even the classic snap of a twig. Mort even took a few discreet sniffs, trying to parse the air itself for any hint of the extraordinary. A creature monstrous enough to tear apart entire squads of soldiers must surely be large and powerful, but he could not put aside the possibility of a silent killer, terrifying in the subtlety of its slaughter. Mort breathed deep, taking in the night.

[Assistant]
Talic felt tired, but he certainly would have wished for the opposite to be the case or for never having to rest at all anymore. For him there were not one, but two monsters out there: An unknown in front of them, and one he knew all too well behind them -- or rather behind him alone. The overall situation allowed to question once more the wisdom behind remaining silent about his true story: What if any silent killers came at night, but because they were only behind him none of the others would recognize them as a threat until it was too late ? It was a gamble, but on the other hand a gamble no greater than it had been all those previous nights.

He would have wished for a tree. Something high to climb on as it would not only offer additional protection, but also allow to see much further in the morning. Despite the fact that Talic looked as if him climbing up a tree would rather tear down the latter instead of himself going upwards he actually was quite adept at that kind of stuff. One of the few hobbies he had been able to choose out of his own preference alone and therefore all the more precious.

Talic chose to rest on the grass. If he was going to sleep then he would do so with as much comfort as possible, everything else would be a contradiction. He pulled out the large piece of fur and cloth he had taken with him for that kind of purpose, put it on the ground and warpped himself into it subsequently. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep and it even seemed to be a deep one.


[System]
Gender:
Male

Appearance:

Stands at a large 6'4. Broad of shoulder and hulking in build. Well-defined muscle, though deeply scarred across his body. Favors furs over silks when outside of his armor. Typically favors massive two-handed weapons, and is most commonly seen wielding a massive flanged mace.

Abilities:
Dragan primarily utilizes both blood magic and necromancy in tandem, befitting a vampire known as the Death Knight.

As a blood mage, Dragan specializes in physical enhancement, preferring to fight in melee with a physical weapon in hand. Of course, he's entirely capable of utilizing the other aspects of blood magic as well, resorting to blood weapons when disarmed and blood barriers to defend against magic. Strangely, though, he has never been seen actually casting a ranged blood spell.

As a necromancer, Dragan keeps it simple, traditional, and efficient: zombies, skeletons, and other such more mundane undead with which to drown his foes in a sea of corpses. One will occasionally see larger abominations within his forces, but these are rare and tend to be pre-prepared, with Dragan seemingly unable to raise these at will in the field as he could with groups of lesser undead. Of course, Dragan cannot simply raise armies at will. Without preparation, he tends to be able to create a dozen or so undead soldiers at a time, given enough materials. With the proper rituals and rites, however, Dragan is entirely capable of acts such as raising entire graveyards at once or binding the shambling bones of large creatures into his service.

Both of these aspects combined leave this particular vampire as a frontline general, leading undead armies into the thick of battle.

Personality:
Dragan follows a twisted sense of noblesse oblige in his dealings. To him, vampires are inherently higher life forms as compared to humans, and thus bear responsibility towards them as a result. Humanity in Dragan's eyes are, at the very least, higher than cattle. It would be more accurate to say that he treats mankind as ignorant children: unable to fend for themselves or make wise decisions. Thus, vampires are to safeguard humanity within their borders, and for this service, deserve the blood they require to survive. After all, this was simply the feudal contract as existed in eras past. Only now with more worthy lords to rule over man.

As a follower of noblesse oblige, Dragan strives to be as great as he can in his personal conduct. He conducts himself with elegance and decorum. However, this is also matched with a penchant for violence and direct action. Where other vampires prefer subtle manipulations and secrecy, Dragan simply strides through problems with a suit of hulking plate armor, a massive weapon, and an undead horde at his back. He is a lord, after all, and lords do not skulk like cowards when their authority is challenged.

In regards to the Goddess, Dragan is a loyal enough follower that he swears to fulfill his divine mission without complaint. Having served the Queen once already, he sees little issue with working to bring her back.

Bio:
The vampire lord known as Dragan Meszaros, the dreaded Death Knight of eras past, was once known as the crusade's greatest shame. Born as an orphan ward of some irrelevant church of a now-dead god, Dragan grew to be a paladin of the same church, setting out on quests throughout the land. He slew monsters, saved the innocent, and championed the light of his god.

Despite his successes, however, Dragan slipped ever into deeper frustration and melancholy as he saw the same stories happen time and time again. Men create problems for themselves that he had to solve for them. Tragedies and villians were created through human sins. The apathy, greed, and wrath of humanity were greater foes than any mere monster that had ever stood in his path. Men were ever more incapable of managing themselves.

Dragan's final days as a paladin were spent chasing the rumors of a vampire in a great duchy of a now-forgotten kingdom. When he arrived, however, every value he held was challenged. The duke was a vain tyrant, working his people past the breaking point and abusing the fruits of their labor to glorify himself. The commoners barely cared about this vampire in the territory: a few deaths a month barely compared to the starving masses. In fact, when Dragan did finally track the vampire's thralls down to an outlying village, he saw something there that broke him. The people in that village, the vampire's cattle, were doing far better compared to the rest of the duchy. Better fed, working for themselves, and just...happier.

It was then that Dragan knew his truth: man was inherently unable to rule itself. Left to its own devices, humanity would eat itself alive. Dragan gave up. He fell. Returning to the duchy's capital, the once-vaunted paladin launched a brazen assault on the duke in broad daylight, slaughtering him and his meager guard. Afterwards, Dragan returned to the vampire's village, throwing the unworthy ruler's head into the middle of the town square. With the vampire's attention piqued, Dragan knelt before him, stating that he had seen the true light.

Bemused at the thought of taking a fallen paladin as Ichor's child, the vampire turned Dragan. After a period of time adjusting to his new existence and learning all he could of vampirism, Dragan took his leave, setting out on his own with his patron's blessing. Centuries later, the vampire known as the Death Knight scourged the land, conquering a kingdom with his undead army in the name of the Queen. He sought to replace the incompetent rule of man with his own benevolent tyranny. But this was not to be. Not in this era. Such a public, reviled monster was one of the first targets of the Hundred Paladins, made more urgent by the shame that he was once a paladin himself. While the bulk of the Hundred tore through his armies with their silver swords and divine blessings, their strongest champions engaged Dragan himself and laid him low. The Death Knight was shattered with his kingdom, his dreams dashed as the Hundred moved on.

[User]
Location: Alavaris
Cathedral
Landshark@Asuras@VitaVitaAR@Click This@Pyromania99

---

"O-oh uhm, well," Fra fidgeted with her dress. "Someone should look after the cathedral…it would be a shame for it to be empty, even for only a little while…" The thrall couldn't meet her mistress gaze as she'd reply. It was hard for Luna to get a read on her, but it didn't seem like she was being dishonest, just timid. "Uhm, as for defenses…its not a big place. I'd say roughly a few dozen people or so live there. An old stone wall runs along the south and eastern sides of the village, but the northern gate was destroyed at some point the west has a river next to it. They don't have many people capable of fighting…mostly, if something attacks they usually just try and hide, waiting it out…"

She shook her head.

"Uhm…there is this one woman though. I-I think she's a blacksmith or something? She tries to hunt things near the village where she can to help keep it safe. She's uhm…well she doesn't like me, aha…" Fra rubbed her arm nervously. "They usually light the village with silver lamps. I don't know how they work, but they seem to be able to keep most small creatures away from the village. I apologize I can't be of more help, Mistress…"

Akyasha's gorebats alighted on her shoulder, chirping pleasantly, but seemingly restless. Might be best to keep them around for now, or send them out scouting ahead in case they ran into anything on their way to this supposed village.

For now at least, it seemed as though nothing else needed to be done in the city. They could consider rebuilding and strengthening the city itself once they had the manpower, thralls, and other lords revived and willing to help.

With the still oddly fresh and bloody heart safely secured, once everyone had made their preparations and were ready, Fra would point them in the proper direction. Out the nearby city gate, down the old, dusty path that once would have allowed traders and people through, around the old, gnarled forest, towards what would have at one point been a riverside town. From the way she described the journey, it would likely take a few hours and be an overnight trip or two…for an average mortal, at least. They didn't have as much need for rest, now did they?

Regardless, Fra would not wish to come unless she'd be forced to by the lords. The trip would be blessedly uneventful, the darkness of the world around them hiding little from their vampiric sight. Where humans would hear noises and creatures scampering, howling in the distance, the vampires only saw ragged beasts, who in turn, saw them, and cautiously stalked their presumed prey for some time.

Of course, they themselves soon became the prey.
And soon, the village would finally come into view. Lamps lit two ruined pillars, giving off the only source of light for miles. A number of corpses of four legged creatures that looked like some amalgamation of deer and wolf, with antlers sprouting from their head but possessing a body structure more like a wolf with an elongated muzzle and far too long limbs littered the area near the pillar.

Beyond the stone pillar, they could see a number of shoddily built and old dwellings. Some looked like they had existed since the Ophidiel Era with quick repairs and patchworks to keep them mostly livable, while others seemed completely hastily constructed. The tallest of the buildings they could see had a lamp atop it, illuminating someone standing up there.

They could hear some people jovially talking not too far away, though they were just out of sight in a nearby building.

[Assistant]
It was a somewhat long journey, though it was hard to tell sometimes. Perhaps it was the curiosity of the situation they were in that made her anticipate going and once they got there, she was slightly amused by the sight of the odd deer-wolf hybrids. "If most people here dont fight, then it must have been that blacksmith girl that slew these creatures, no?" The cleric mused, looking around. "She would make a fine addition to our depleted forces."

Akyasha thought on the situation forbsome small seconds before turning to her bats. "Stay hidden but I want you two to find try and find the blacksmith or where that girl might be. Additionally, tell me the general layout of this place and any other bits of interest." There was quite a bit the Vampire wished to know, but it shouldnt be too difficult for her two Gorebats. She gave them both a small nuzzle nefore she sent them off.

[User]
Giselle de FarryUndead Princess, de Farry

---

Perhaps the journey was long for a day trip, but Giselle spent most of the time keeping a keen eye on all that they passed. In the absence of major threats, with what existed merely acting as inferior food for the her and the other lords, she could spare the time to investigate the state of what the world had turned into. It was a luxury that she unfortunately didn't have to examine in detail in the city proper given the state of Alavaris.

Sadly, the state of the world had become as drab as Giselle expected. In the absence of Light, most living beings of the good and proper variety had long died and withered to dust. The state of vegetation, sadly, was in a dire state, and it was a miracle in and of itself that humans and more wretched beasts managed to eke out an existence in this dead world.

Even so, aside from speaking with the other lords on details and musings on things that had happened since their slumber, she occupied most of her time keeping a mental journal on all that she saw.

Nonetheless, she was glad when the human settlement came into sight. She observed the architecture, noting its familiarity with buildings from her era, and then the ramshackle repairs and inferior new construction. More importantly, she kept in the mind what was likely a sentry of some type at the settlement's highest vantage point. If they hadn't already been observed, they would be seen soon—which meant the time to make a decision would be short.

And short it would be indeed, given that they could already hear voices of the people inside the village. Perhaps surprisingly, they seemed rather happy.

Giselle turned to her fellow lords as Akyasha sent off her gorebats. "I suppose it's time to see how the humans of this era will react." If there were no objections from her peers, she would approach the village entrance, a story already crafted in mind. With absence of any gate guards, she would speak to those speaking, but not without being cautious. She remained casual, but alert, and elected to make enough noise on her approach as to not startle before she appeared.

"Greetings. Perhaps you might spare time for questions from some travelers?"

[Assistant]
Somehow, the state of the world didn't surprise the Death Knight as he strode across the earth with his companions. Without the sun, very little grew. Vegetation could not sustain prey animals, which meant that predators and humans alike suffered. Which led to the quality of blood suffering. An illiterate farmer could have connected these dots. And yet Dragan had once heard some among his peers desire the world in the exact state of eternal night it was in now. Frankly, he hoped those fools had burned when they suffered their final deaths.

Still, it was good to see that humanity survived in some form despite these setbacks. And enough to have organized settlements, at that. Once their mission was complete, there would be much work to do to shepherd what remained of Man to thrive in this new world. Hopefully, his companions would be able to see the need for such, if only to ensure a steady supply of quality blood for the...less charitably inclined vampires.

As Giselle began to approach the settlement, Dragan voluntarily hung back, staying relatively out of sight as he allowed his peer to do the talking. Despite the fact that he was also an adept speaker, the Death Knight's current appearance wasn't quite suited to reassure frightened villagers that they meant no harm. Best to have a softer face represent the group for the moment. Dragan planted the head of his warhammer into the ground before removing his helmet, if only to have a less terrifying visage.