[System]
(Lilith has medium length, ash brown hair, golden eyes, is covered in freckles, and wears less floofy clothes so she can move around easier)
Species: A human, probably

Age: ???

Height and Weight: Just over 4'11", and 95lbs

History: The only surviving member of Grayfall Guild after the rest of them died in a dungeon raid gone wrong, this has left her as the new Guild Master despite her gross inexperience. There is a misconception that Lilith survived the raid because she was a powerful warrior, but that is not the case. Lilith was found on her own by the old guild master, Elliot, who was a very old, very powerful wizard. It wasn't until a couple of years later that she had discovered her talents as a young witch, so she was initially trained as a rouge due to how small and quick she was. She ended up having to self study witchcraft through experimentation since her magic was very different from all the arcane and divine magic users in her guild. Eventually, some representatives from a neighboring kingdom came and requested their assistance, for many of their townsfolk went missing during the night for the past week. The guild knew that the quest was going to be the most dangerous trial that they had ever faced, so all members were required to assist. By the time they had made it through the majority of the dungeon, a few lives were already lost, and Lilith, who wasn't overly used to adventuring yet, was at her mental limit; Elliot, seeing the state that she was in, hid her away in a crack in the wall and cast invisibility, knowing that she would be a sitting duck if she attempted to face a boss monster in said condition. All she heard after that was monstrous roars, the clashing of swords, the sounds of spells, and screams of agony. After hours there was silence before the largest dragon she had ever seen emerged from it's lair, covered in the blood of her allies. She was too scared to move for hours, and too shocked to do anything for months.

Personality: Lilith's entire philosophy on leadership and running a guild is borrowed from the previous guild master and other members of power positions, that the guild is a family, and everyone deserves respect. All and all, she's a coward in combat, and is terrified of losing anyone else, but even so, she loves the guild too much to let it die. If there's one word to describe Lilith, it would be busybody; she's basically all over the place and is constantly multitasking after having to keep a guild from falling apart or going bankrupt. Her true passion lies in her witchcraft, as one would be able to guess from taking a single glance in her room. Her favorite food is Elliot's stew (which she's trying to recreate), she's scared of spiders, and she knows how to mix drinks, despite not drinking, herself.

[User] Caelus seemed rather spooked. Sarrai'a had just shifted... into a wolf-like form? He didn't really,hear Drek's question, too busy worrying if Sarrai'a would eventually sniff out the fact that Caelus is bonded with a demon as well...

[Assistant] *Sarrai'a then sighed* "I suppose there's no point in hiding it now, I would have preferred to have not revealed this information until being more integrated into the pack, but my previous order was the order of the lycan a sect of blood hunters that willingly become lycanthropes in order to better defend against demons and other dark forces, its just been so long that I have been without my pack to help guide me and control the beast that I carry that I was starting to loose some control."

[User] "Now that's more like it." Lilith huffed. She was mildly phased by the impressive transformation, but didn't let it show because really, what was she expecting? It was kind of obvious since she kept calling the guild a 'pack'. "Now, let's keep going. We don't want to keep the nice man waiting too long."

[Assistant] "Yes lets" *Sarrai'a took up the pace that she had following behind Lilith*

[User] Up ahead on the forest path is a stump upon which a humanoid sits, silver hair shrouding her face. Cloaked in blue with what appears to be a hunched back, from a distance this actually quite young lady appears to be quite old.

[Assistant] *looks up at the person sitting on the stump, and gives that air a sniff to see what she smells and is quite surprised to smell feathers, but with what just happened decides to wait to see what this "human" does*

[User] The humanoid doesn't move, eyes closed. The silky hair blows lightly in the wind, but the cloak shows almost no signs of moving, clearly being held onto quite tightly. Though she was young her hearing and smell was not the best as she was dozing off lightly without noticing any of the nearing party.

[Assistant] "So the woman sitting on the stump over there, I'm smelling feathers from her not sure what that means its curious though."

[User] "Excuse me, miss." Lilith called out, trying not to alarm the clearly distressed woman, she wasn't sure what Sarrai'a meant by the smell of feathers, but she was clearly using her cloak to conceal something, so wings or a feathered body wasn't out of the question. "Are you alright?"

[Assistant] The woman jolts a bit, fully waking. She straightens up a bit, but still has quite the hunchback. Her head turns towards them slowly, face still covered by her hair.

[User] "Um...miss? I didn't mean to scare you." Lilith soothed, taking a step forward, "I was just wondering if you were lost...it's not safe to sleep in the forest, and I have some spare rooms in my guild if your interested."

[Assistant]
With armfuls of edible plants and fungi, Clover came gracefully romping through the trees. She saw her friends, and beamed, moving in their direction. She saw the woman in the cloak hunched over, and tilted her head in curiosity. A new friend? She hoped so.

"Hello!"

[User] The woman looks up at them, some of her hair parting to reveal a nose and mouth, both relatively wrinkle free. "A guild you say?" There was no doubt she was female as she speaks with a quite melodic voice. She lifts a hand to brush some of her hair behind her ear so she could get a better look at them with her sparkling blue eyes.

[Assistant]
"Ah, an angel walks among us."

Drek kneels and takes the woman's hand in his own.

"I am Drekven Emmerich. To whom do I owe the pleasure of being able to gaze upon such beauty?"

[User] Clover looked on with sparkling eyes. She had seen many lovers in her time in the forest, but the joy it brought her never wore off. She giggled, and hurried over to the group.

[Assistant] "Ang- Sky," she blurts out quickly, correcting herself. It had been awhile since she had been treated like this, so the other name came out almost naturally. Almost. "Sky. Pleasure to meet you as well." Aside from the little name slip up, she seemed unphased by Drekven.

[User] "Yes, a guild." Lilith calmly stated. Her intense desire to rebuild the guild as quickly as possible had cooled since Sarrai'a's outburst, and she realized she would have to work on her leadership skills more, and would have to test potential new members before she had let anyone else join. That was the only thing a weak leader such as herself could do. "However, we can't go there right away, since my party members an I are currently on an errand."

[Assistant]
"Ah... Sky. Fitting, as your eyes are as boundlessly blue as a midsummer's day."

A gentle breeze blew through the trees, lightly jostling Drek's hair as he looks up at the woman with a gentle expression in his eyes.

"I am delighted to make your acquaintance."

[User]
"I can take her back! I need to drop these off anyhow."

Clover held up her armful of forest goodies.

[Assistant] Sky flashes Drekven a winning smile, then turns her attention towards Lilith. "What kind of an errand?" Her hunchback shifts a little, in quite an odd manner for a back. She then looks at Clover curiously. She then looks at the rest of them and notices they are quite the odd bunch.

[User]
"An errand that involves getting lumber in the most complicated way ever: quest style." Lilith stated matter-of-factly, placing her hands on her hips.

"We're helping a local woodsman take care of his problem with the wildlife."

[Assistant] "Oh, I see. I do not have much money on me, so perhaps I could assist you in order to pay for a night." She stands up, her hunch back shifting oddly once again. Her cloak is wrapped very tightly, obviously not made for such a hunch.

[User] Clover looked from person to person in the group, hoping she was understanding wrong. Her friends wanted to help a woodsman? A destroyer of the forest? She frowned. She would have a few choice words with this human. She certainly hoped that they didn't intend to harm any forest dwellers.

[Assistant] "That cloak does not look very comfortable, you should let your wings out it can't be good for them to be forced into strange positions by that cloak."

[User] "Now now Sarrai'a, when I called her angel I was being metaphoric."

[Assistant] "I don't think she's an actual angel she does not smell like one, I simply smell feathers on her and her back is shifting in a way that a normal humans would not."

[User]
Clover looked at the woman in the cloak. Wolf-kin, bear-kin, now bird-kin? She was glad to have so many new friends! But now she was determined to speak to that woodsman.

"Can I come with you on this...quest?"

[Assistant] Sky pauses, frozen. She couldn't believe someone had just seen right through her disguise. She knew it wasn't perfect but it had seemed to fool in the past. She turns her head to look at the person who had called her out, about ready to lie, but instead she shies away. "I... It... It's not..." She had always planned on flying away in the event something like this happened, but she was too tired and hungry for that now. Plus, no one here seemed to be much of a threat for the time being. She looks at Drekven for help, looking quite vulnerable. Though she could hold her own usually, she did find taking advantage of men occasionally more advantageous.

[User]
Drek approaches the small girl, a smug smirk smeared across his face.

"I don't know, it could be dangerous for children. Bears or wolves or even worse... RATS! You think you're tough enough to handle that little one?"

As he waits for the nymph's response he stands between Sky and Sarrai'a.

"I'm sure she's bundled up for a very good reason, there is a bit of an chilly breeze. Why don't we leave it at that for now?"

He shoots Sky a sly wink.

[Assistant] "Don't worry having wings is nothing strange when you are talking to a lycan, a nymph, a witch, and a warlock, I'm sure are hunter friend has something strange about him that we will about as this strange pack of ours grows closer, no reason to look so worried." *pointing out each respective guild member as she spoke*

[User]
Clover looked up at the man with confusion.

"I have lived in the forest my entire life. Bears and wolves are my friends, and only dangerous if angered. Humans are the true danger. They are erratic, emotional, and egotistical. I am impressed with myself that I have yet to be killed by any of you. Bears and wolves are no issue. Neither are rats."

[Assistant] *Sarrai'a chuckles at Drek's attempt to scare a nymph with threat of natural creatures*

[User]
Lilith swallowed hard. She didn't exactly feel comfortable taking a child on a potentially dangerous trip, especially since she really couldn't handle any more deaths. She went cold just thinking of the word and tried not to let her PTSD get a hold of her.

"Now sweetie," Lilith sighed, bending down a little to Clover's height, "I don't know how safe it's going to be. How experienced are you in combat"

[Assistant]
Clover cocked her head.

"Combat? Oh, no, I think you misunderstand, we do not need to combat these creatures. We can merely speak with them, calm them, and ask them to kindly leave the woodsman alone!"

She gave an innocent smile.

"Though, to answer your question, I have had a few experiences with combat, with humans."

[User]
Drek grins widely at Clover's response.

"I don't know Lilith she seems pretty gutsy to me. Not bad spirit for a kid."

[Assistant] "If the wild life is not wolves will need a nymph to actually ask them to leave, wolves I can handle."

[User] Sky looks up at him gratefully and chooses to ignore Sarrai'a's comment. Fitting in wasn't the issue. Rather, Sky still fears the humans she once was with would come after her once again. She couldn't yet trust that no one in this group was a bounty hunter.

[Assistant]
Lilith bit her lip. She had a feeling that a woodsman who had lived in this area for a while now wold be able to handle himself if it were a mere pack of wolves or a bear. It was more than likely a beast of some sort. The forest had seemed uneasy since a couple days ago, so she assumed something big was making a territory push.

"Well..." she looked to Drek, then to Clover, "If you say so. But if I deem it too dangerous for you, I want you to run and hide, okay? I don't want you getting hurt."


[System]
Age: 56
Gender: Male
Breed/Species/Type/Lineage: Seelie Sidhe (Faerie)

Physical Description:

Talents:-Flight: The ability to fly with proficient maneuverability for a long duration of time.

-Nature Magic: The ability to manipulate nature in various ways such as entangling creatures with branches or roots, concealing himself within the earth, or harnessing energy from plant life to strengthen his blade.

-Illusory Manipulation: Can use Illusion Magic to disguise himself or create minor sensory illusions against others.

-Sleep Inducing Magic: The ability to induce a narcoleptic state of sleep in targeted creatures. (Related: Karram also has the innate ability to create illusions or send messages to sentient beings in their dreams.)

-Empathy: The ability to perceive people's emotions and motives.

-Sword-fighting: He is a trained swordfighter.

History:The Sylian branch family is renowned in the faerie community of Ireland. For centuries they have served as judges in the Seelie Court, with the primary responsibility of doling out punishment for faeries who have committed crimes against the mortals or faerie brethren. Karram Sylian's family was different however. He was the unfortunate product of an unlawful relationship between a Seelie faerie and an Unseelie faerie. His father was pronounced a traitor to the community and both he and his forbidden lover were executed. Karram Sylian was to be banished from the Seelie Court and sent to the Ashen Pit where Unseelie miscreants lived. However his father's brother, Eromyr, was able to convince the council to spare the infant faerie and grant him 20 years of life to prove his usefulness to the community. The council gave in and allowed Eromyr to adopt Karram and teach him as his own.

For the next 15 years Karram grew up learning the ways of the Seelie Court, faerie magic, and other resourceful trades. He never learned about his past or birth parents until his 16th birthday. Eromyr sat him down and explained the scenario that lead to his birth. Astonished and heartbroken, Karram spent the next few weeks lazing in a deep depression. But eventually he came to his senses and decided his life's work would be to amend his family's honor and eventually become Seelie Grandmaster. On his 20th birthday Karram was brought before the council of elders and rigorously tested. His incredibly honed skills and vast faerie knowledge surprised the council, and so they let him live.

Five years later Karram was appointed as a Seelie Adviser, the same position his uncle Eromyr held. He and Eromyr were sent with several others to the United States to set up a new branch of the Seelie Court within the supernatural communities that exist there. Karram was especially excited to travel to a new place where he could make a name for himself without the past haunting his every move. For the last 31 years, Karram has served as an adviser in the courts. He is known for his ability to detect the emotions and motives of defendants as well as his overall intelligence and loyalty; even receiving a few nods from Count Caradoc in the past.

In the human world, Karram originally disguised himself as a young and ambitious David Rodgers. He took up a job as an attorney and excelled in the position for just over 20 years. However he was commanded by the courts to change both his disguise and persona due to skepticism in his office over his apparent lack of aging. So he adopted the name Karl Silverman and has since been working for the IRS at the request of the courts (presumably so he could look into some of the supernaturals who mingle with with the humans).

But now everything has changed. The resurrection of Nemsemet and the slaughter of the Count and his high council has caused chaos in the supernatural world, and the last thing Karram wants is for that chaos to spill into the mortal world. Because if it does, it could bring the whole world to its knees...

Psychological Profile:Karram is unlike most faeries in many ways. Determined and courageous, Karram is always looking to prove himself useful to his community; and to himself. He hides his insecurities and depression by focusing entirely on work, and so he could easily be seen as a workaholic. He finds the usual rambunctious and mischievous nature of his fellow faeries to be immature; whereas he tends to focus on more serious matters. However he does share a deep distrust for Unseelie Sidhe due to his interactions with them in the courts as well as the indoctrination he experienced living with the Seelie Sidhe community in Ireland. Outside of combat or work, Karram is relatively quiet and often becomes entranced in his own thoughts. He also has trouble turning off his professionalism considering he doesn't harbor many actual friendships.

Possessions:-Oakbane, a custom blade enchanted with earthen magic.
-Sylian Pendant, a necklace worn by members of the Sylian Branch Family.
-Faerie Dagger, a small dagger he keeps sheathed on his lower back as a secondary/defensive weapon.

Yes, and:
Karram was one of the presiding advisers during Antonio's preliminary hearing, where he briefly met Flint as well. He was the one that suggested his innocence after reading his emotions in the courtroom. Although initially ignored, Antonio was proven innocent anyway after the murders continued.

Flash forward several decades later, Karram, under his human guise of Karl Silverman, was asked by the IRS to audit the Horizon Foundation before their annual licensing renewal. It was apparent from the start that despite his disguise Antonio knew who he was, more than likely by scent. It was a moderately uncomfortable confrontation but nonetheless remained civil.

(^Can be amended or changed entirely if you don't think it fits.)

[User]
Rikive willed her shield to return to it's sheath form and put the blade back into it's place. Parael was safe from the decaying building, that was her main concern and now she could relax. A bit. The manbeast, Tony, was right, they all wouldn't fit into the lawman's vehicle. "I'll return shortly." She informed the remaining members of the...chaotic group, before taking off at a fast run away from incoming fire. Everyone was everywhere and there was no organization of their ranks. Hopefully that would change when they were out of danger and could actually think.

When she first arrived to Midgard she had been completely fascinated by the modern car. She wanted to learn how they worked, how to drive one and learned quite a few things about them over the course of her research. She stopped her sprint when she found a dark blue Impala that looked like a model from the 1960's. Perfect.

She broke the driver side glass with her elbow, the alarm going off but she very much doubted the owner would come outside. Popping open the door she got down underneath the steering wheel. After a few moments the alarm went silent and then the engine roared to life. Grinning she pulled herself into the driver seat and slammed her foot down on the gas petal. The car lurched forward with a screech of tires and she spun the wheel to turn it around.

In theory she knew how one drove a car, in practice, as Parael had told her time and time again; she was not the best at it.

Still she could point it in one direction and make it go forward. She returned close to where she had last left Tony and the rest of the group to fight and honked the horn to get their attention.

[Assistant]
Tony didn't like the escalation any more than Parael did; it was an unusual amount of force for the supernatural world. He also didn't like feeling like he was back to the Vietnam days, but it did reinforce one notion in his mind -- this was a fucking war.

The bloodsuckers controlled a lot of the high level local crime here, and if the thralls weren't a huge giveaway, he could smell the vamp blood on them, oozing through the pores, then the East Bloc weapons sure as hell were -- that was the sort of businesses they were in, moving the heroin and cocaine and the automatic weapons into the city. They knew that younger vampires tended to favor Nemsemet's "We shall rule the night!" platform and signed on, but this was a sign that some older/well connected ones that were used to manipulating things behind the scenes were involved. Typical vamp didn't start doing real business, besides foot soldiering, for at least two decades. They tended to spend those first vampiric college years trying to bag hotties to drink before they grew up and started manipulating the stock market or organized crime.

He kept eyes peeled for any more goons, but Parael's shriek was a signal; he started to fall back, and managed to pound on Flint's door until the window went down, "North Rousseau and Twelfth Street, there's a garage. If I ain't there, tell the security guy 'it's a cold sweat' and he'll make sure that the car gets towed somewhere safe and held there. Bottom floor, there's underground access tunnels that empties out into the old city subway system. There's a bunch of graffiti but you want to do is follow the purple peace signs till you hit a fallout shelter." Tony had his means, but he wasn't explaining to Flint how decades of doing charity and getting people jobs in this city meant that he had a network of mortals that could disappear a car and keep it safe, and help people move through the city without being tracked.

There were the howl of sirens down the road, and that meant that they had to get the fuck out and fast...but still, Rivike grabbed some dude's 60's vintage Impala and was leaning on the horn. Sometime later, some guy would be saying to the cops, "Some white woman with a big ass sword STOLE my Chevy Impala!" and the cops would be like, "We'll check the parking lot at the hotel where they're having that cosplay convention."

It didn't matter, because it was a ride out of here. He got in, the thing was a drop top, and told Rivike where they were headed, but got the feeling that he'd have to take her turn by turn.

---

Turned out, he did. Not only that, the woman drove the big, heavy car with too much gas and she didn't quite have the turns or the signaling mastered, so it was a scary ass ride. Luckily, despite all the people yelling at them, the cops were busy -- like, real busy, and so were the fire engines, screaming down the road. Apparently, whoever attacked Parael's decided to finish the job by torching it.

Finally, they got there, around the time Flint and the Bentley did, and Tony told the security guy, Bobby, that it was a 'cold sweat.' That meant the cars would be taken care of. Hell, it meant the Impala would get found in that lot of the towing company and returned to the owner, which was a lot better than what could have happened to it. Bobby, for his part, handed Tony a set of keys. The guns were stashed in a bag, out of sight of Bobby the security guy; he didn't need to know what the heat was or any more than he had to.

"Follow me," he told the lot, once they were parked at the very lowest level of the garage; the tunnel access he used had been used recently, so it didn't squeal in protest. "I made sure this shit was still there when I heard what was going down. Found this shit when I was a kid, screwin' around in these tunnels." It was a trek through the dark and he didn't bother to pop a light -- others could do that for themselves -- but he navigated the twists and the turns without consulting the purple peace signs that were buried among all the other graffiti down here. There were cables and pipes, but it all seemed disused; the rats, the roaches and the spiders were living down here in the dust and the shadows of the city.

Finally, they found a reinforced steel door with a yellow and black sign on it, locked tight. With the key in hand that Bobby handed to him, he got the door open and gestured them in; the place was painted in the old school institutional blue-gray, but it had modern lighting and cables, once the switch got flicked, and modern amenities like plumbing for bathrooms and washing, as well as a place to cook. There wasn't cable TV or any of that shit, but there was space. He closed the door and locked it, with a bar that slammed down into place, making it impossible to come in through that door even with a key, before speaking.

"Nemsemet is a fuckin' disaster, and this is a disaster shelter that the foundation refurbished when it was doing the parking garage and other projects. I figured that it's always good to have a hidey-hole, especially after some shit happened in the 1980's. Two entrances; one leads up to the shelter's entrance which comes out into a tunnel that gets you out into Lord Dorset Park," which was notable for being very dangerous at night, "but I didn't want to risk getting seen going in like that and we needed to get rid of those cars, they're too obvious. The entrance we just used takes us out into the sewers and subways, which means that we don't ever need to use the same way in and out twice. Oughta be enough room, it was designed to hold two hundred for two months. Food supply's fresh. I have clothes, but they might not fit you guys."


[System]
Title: The Trickster

Age: ???

Gender: Male

Appearance

Rank: Mage

Personality: Flippant, reckless, careless, whimsical, mischievous, curious. Bristlebane is very random and contradictory. He really does whatever he feels like. Whether that entails playing for coins in a town square or breaking into a castle treasure simply to leave a calling card, or flirting with the nearest person. Bristlebane clearly has little purpose in life yet has large array of skills keeps him out of trouble moving from one place to the next. He will change his mind faster than you can realize he made it up in the first place. He is friendly, impossible to offend, and blunt as a hammer. Usually

History: Bristlebane either doesn't remember his past or doesn't want to. Regardless he has lived a life of taking odd jobs, adventuring, and every now and then, stealing to take care of himself. Due to his inability to use magic he focused on gathering a large amount of magic items to compensate, and still is. Bristlebane was so vexed by his inability to use magic that he decided that if he couldn't learn to use magic, then he would learn to do everything else. As a result he has an incredibly wide array of skills, everything from pick-pocketing, to blacksmithing, to alchemy. Finally Bristlebane decided that if he could ever learn how to use magic it would be in a guild focused on magic users, and so to fulfill this end he joined the guild Harpy's Wing.

Magic: Holder
Bristlebane doesn't have any "magic" per-say, instead he has something very different. An immunity to magic. Simply put magic doesn't affect him, much to Bristlebane's regret, this meant that he could use no magic of his own, though not due to a lack of effort. However this didn't stop him from trying for his whole life.

Cloak of Many Pockets: Bristlebane's patchwork cloak has a nearly infinite amount of pockets and all of them share the properties of a bag of holding.

Flickerstep boots: These boots allow Bristlebane to "Flicker" when he walks causing his position to blur and become unclear, almost making it look like there are two or three of him.

Gravity Badge: A small badge that doubles the gravity on whatever it is pinned onto. It cannot be removed until 10 minutes have passed, or the person who put it on takes it off. Then it needs to recharge for at least half a day.

Stone Of Traveling: A small black stone that looks like the eye of some strange creature. Stored in one of his pockets it can be thrown, and when it hits something the user will teleport to the stone and it will go back into his pocket.

Jet-fire Ring: Allows generation of a stream of fire.

Aquatic Mirror Ring: Allows generation of a shield of water that can be launched towards an opponent.

Golden sword- ???

Ghost sword- Weird keening noise when swung, kinda light, also warm for some reason. Is sharp???

Other: Uses variations of break-dancing for physical combat and he loved the card he has in his hat.

[User]
Ira Amaterasu

Jus as the hydras lunged for his jewels , Ira moved in the fastest of ways. This was because of his magic, it caused him to speed up at at almost unseen rates. What Revan thought he saw was the his strikes landing with precise accuracy. What actually occurred was Ira sidestepping the menacing monsters. He would not fall for the same trick twice. "It was fun while it lasted but I think I've shown you a little too much. We can call this your win. Doesn't mean I lost. I just got what I came for plus a beautiful date. That's something I can't refuse. So even if you wanna fight I suggest you take it up with your penis. Seems like that's the only meat you'll be beating tonight." Ira vanished in a flash of golden light, his speed only matched by the winds howling. A shriek of laughter filling the path the light followed. He decided to let the altercation go for Taka's sake , at least for now.

When out of the ear's reached he grabbed his jewels in disbelieving pain."Old fool has some aim but his pride will be his downfall." He entered the caravan of which he'd stolen from the bandits earlier and left on the countryside. It was time for rest . Ira had plans to set in action and didn't need someone like Revan involving himself in them. "What can I say, You win some . You lose some . He closed his eyes and drifted off into sleep thinking about the young girl he soon persuade to see things his way.

[Assistant]
I S S H U M.

---

Isshum would have told Vivian to go drown herself if not for the motion sickness. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, he whirled his head towards the ground to spit up the remaining guts he had left. A thin, clear slim hung from his lip as he clung to the stony finger with both hands. His eyes lazed as the clear sky shone in his eyes, glinting.

When gravity took over, he felt his stomach realigning, his nausea receding. Once Vivan landed and his body trembled with the jarring impact, Isshum climbed out of Vi's arm and pushed her aside.  "Never make me your damsel again." He shook his head from the embarrassment before lighting his right arm aflame. The crimson fire sparked with different colors, crackling with various hues of red. "Like I said, this bastard's mines!"

Before Vi could respond or stop him, he charged towards it massive leg, hopped onto its big toe, and burst straight up till he soared over the fifteen meter tall golemn. In the sky, he pulled his arm back and the flames that consumed it expanded, its edges pulsating until it appeared like a miniature sun.

 "Let's make this spectacular!" he shouted, exerting flames from the soles of his boots and rocketing into the golemn's skull, carving a fist-sized imprint into its head.

A second passed. The explosion that rocked the cliff-side wilderness next resounded for miles. Black birds took to the sky as the golemn roared in agony and stumbled backwards, falling to the ground. Isshum bounded off his head, letting loose a constant flow of fire from his feet. He looked down at Vi, smiling contagiously at her.  "Let's head home now, I miss the others."

[User]
Revan

Revan said nothing as the boy ran, only clicking his teeth in annoyance. He could probably track the shit down, but it was way more effort than was needed. His comment on Revan's sex life also bore no reaction, as he hadn't felt much of a sexual desire in a few years. In fact, the irony of it caused him to chuckle a little as he dispeled his bulwark's with a snap of his fingers, the hydra's fading into black mist. Walking back into the hall, he ignored Tessa's yapping(good god was she a nag), he stop next to the girl who had stepped in between him and little shit wizard.

"That took balls, girlie, I'll give ya that, but next time, thing with your head and not your ovaries. No boy's worth dying over, and trust me when I say that kids bad news." With his pieceof wisdim given he took a seat at the bar again, giving Tessa an incredulous look. "So, how's your week been going, Tessa, and yes I'm calling you that because I trump you in the crothchty old person scale at 170 something so if you give me that 'Mrs. Alvaerz' bullshit again, I will break that Shotgun over one of your patrons heads." Revan obviously still needed cool off time from the fight, as he was still chomping at the bit for some violence. Looking at the request biard he turned to look around the place before getting up and deciding there was only one place for him right now. afew ehisyle cauded the hydras to rise up underneath him, lifting him to the rafters where he climbed on and proceeded to begin doing what he did best: Sleeping on command.

Aiden Cross

Aiden rolled his eyes at her behavior, seeing through her denial like it was made of glass. "Well, in this situation, it wasn't the smartest thing you could've done. I still have nightmares of what I saw when I was fighting with that guy, he's brutal with all Caps, and anyone who starts shit with him is asking for i-" Aiden's rant/explanation was cut off as Revan approached, shutting the Ice Dragonslayer right up . . . until Revan also mentioned Taka's infatuation with Ira, albeit in much cruder(and funnier) terms. Aiddn had to look away and cover his mouth to keep himself from laughing, though a few snickers escaped his grasp.

"Crude as he is," Aiden continued after he'd reagained his composure. "The man has a point. That dude was bad news from the start, plus, don't you think he's too old for you, anyway. He looked 18 if not older, bit iffy on that. But, with that out of the way now, lets get back to important things. A request, which one are we gonna do?"

[Assistant]
"I don't like him! He's just a creep anyways who would ever love somebody like that!" Taka replied to him angrily being the typical tsundere that she was, her fists started to turn to fire from the anger that she had inside. Taka was repeatedly stomping the ground before Revan had left them, she then looked back to Aiden as she calmed down slightly. But it wouldn't take long for her to get extremely pissed once more when Aiden decided to be a little bit of a smart ass to her.

"As I just said you twerp! I. Don't. Like. Him!" Taka replied to Aiden as she stomped on the ground, she started to breath in and out to calm down again, her hand returning to it's original shape. "A request..? Hm... I found one earlier." Taka said as she pulled out a note from her pocket, she opened it up and handed it to Aiden.

Family Rescue from Trolls
Reward: 70,000 J
Description: Please excuse me, adventurer. I need you to intervene.

They've got my family! They said if I didn't pay their ransom they'd.. they would.. Hero, I have no money, you're my only help. Please save my family from the clutches of those vulgar trolls. I cannot join you, for I have other tasks to attend to, but I know you don't need me anyway.
I doubt you'll have problems with the trolls. You don't have to kill them all, just make sure they'll never return.

Fortunately I have enough left to reward you greatly for the efforts you have to go through. Blessed journey champion, may you return swiftly and in one piece.

[User]
Matisuki Kiryuin

REVAN YA BAG OF SHITE...!

As soon as Revan's attack made headways across the tavern, Matt roars to everyone inside. NOW things were REALLY going to get ugly!

"GET TO COVER!" he roars as he shields the people that were in the back of him from any potential counterattack Ira might unleash. And indeed, it seemed that what it said would be a good thing. This guy was about to fire some Heavenly Magic right at them! Yet soon he'd be called upon by Hana.

"Do you want to be the one to stop Revan from destroying the town? Last time I stopped him in a fight he made me feel like crying. I would appreciate it if you handled the job..."

Matt paused, wanting to take in the situation at hand. He has faced Revan before and always would the two stop in a standstill or something would interrupt them. Both had around the same level of magic power, but used it very differently. Yet here, Matt had a decision to make. Either stop Revan and hope that the dark mage also stops, or pounce on Ira and move the battle else where, but risk leading to his demise. He was about to make his choice, when suddenly Taka steps in and seemingly cools the conflict. Yet Revan ignores her and is about to go mad with power! Perhaps now was the best time for him to stop this fellow mage from ruining the place...

But before he can confirm it himself, Tessa yells over the chaos, with a shotgun in her hand. Just the sound of a cocking shotgun made him freeze in his wake, not wanting to move. And thankfully, it was THAT that finally dissipated the battle, with Ira moving out of the tavern, despite his very rude remarks about Revan's... thing. Still, what he did was indeed a foolish thing and Matt was wanting to tear his guts out for it! Yet he holds back for the time being. There will be another time that he'll have an opportunity to kick his ass... just now is not the time. He sighs heavily as he mugs down the remaining beer that was in his mug.

"Inconsiderate fool..." he growls to himself, "He could've blown the whole tavern into smithereens..."

Kuroku Nagasai

Kuroku was silent throughout the entire event, not wanting to put his hat into the ring. It was a very intense situation, but yet it slowly cooled down on a sour note. He was indeed in relief once the mage was gone, but still thought of Revan as a fool for wanting to indeed do battle with this powerful dark mage. Heck, he even thought Matt would be the first to do something, but yet he was wrong. He slowly gets um while clearing his throat and neating up his clothes.

"Well..." he says, "At least that ended quickly."

To Aiden's remark on Revan's power, all he could say was simple.

"And that's why I wanted you both to hold back." Kuroku says, "Revan is incredibly powerful and could easily push you two aside and turn this tavern -or perhaps the city- into ruins. I would hate to see you both get hurt. But alas, you both did the right thing on standing back."

He then looks at the job request Taka had in her hand.

"Looks like the girl needs our help." Kuroku says as he strokes his chin, "I'm down for this job. What about you Aiden?"

[Assistant] Bristlebane did a fist-pump, nice, he got to go on a request on load up for breakfast. He eagerly made his way to the condiment shelf liberally applying at least 3 different kinds of syrup. As he returned to his seat he peeked at the note that had the request on it. "Nice, I vote we do that." Bristlebane said and took a seat grinning happily as he looked at his pancakes. He took a knife and fork out from his coat and began savagely digging in consuming them in a matter of seconds before leaning back satisfied. "S rank food as always Miss Alvarado." He said cheerily as he returned his silverware to one of his pockets. Always have a good relation with the food service, he had learned that waay back in... somewhere. Probably.


[System]
Age: 16

Race: Human

Gender: Female

Appearance:

A bright eyed girl from the Steppes of the Northeastern highlands, she carries with her a brightness and optimism that would lead one to believe her a simple runaway girl with dreams of adventure. Her complexion is tanned from her time spent under the open sky, and she seems to be in a perpetual good mood, judging from her omnipresent smile. She is of a lithe build, and has a slightly bowlegged stance from her life spent riding on a horse. Her arms and legs are fairly toned and muscular for her frame, making her a lot stronger than your average girl from a farm.

She is almost perpetually seen with her hair in a ratty mess, the only restraint to it being her hairband that keeps her bangs from blocking her vision entirely. Her outfit usually consists of a traditional tunic of the Steppe, with large sleeves that give her arms free movement, a black long skirt that has been ripped at the sides to allow her legs more freedom, and a pair of leather sandals. When adventuring, she wears a leather breastplate beneath her dress for added protection.

Height: 5'7"
Eye Color: Amber
Hair Color: White

Personality:
A little ball of sunshine and happiness, there doesn't seem to be much in this life that can get the Steppe Archer down. She carries with her an almost infectious energy that brightens up the room, seemingly always in high spirits.

Her optimism is matched by her keen observation skills. In just a few minutes, she can identify the people in a room at a glance, and tell how someone is feeling by their expression. Despite her perceptive nature, she herself is very blunt, and often unable to think before she speaks. It is not uncommon for something she says to come across as harsh due to her lack of common sense compared to most other people.

Likes: Horses, Sweet Meats, and Flowers
Dislikes: Enclosed spaces, Negative thinking, and Insects
Hobbies: Leather working, Cooking, and Stargazing

History:
On the large rolling plains of the Northeastern Highlands, one is born, lives, and dies on the move. There is no pause available to the nomadic people, with each waking moment spent with focus being on procuring food, supplies, and, once those begin to run low, the focus shifts to uprooting the camps and moving elsewhere on the Steppe. Their society is organized by numerous small "tribes" that have banded together to form a Confederacy, overseen by a leader who rules for a period of ten years after a martial tournament is held between the greatest fighters of the tribes.

Before she was born, her father was heralded as the mightiest man on the Steppe, unbested in archery, and a master of wrestling. On the second year after she was born, he was dethroned and retired to his previous life of being a hunter to provide. In the time she spent with her father, she would learn the art of the hunt, and come to grow into a young girl. Life would proceed as it did, the circle of life in an unending loop, marching onwards with the beat of the people who's lives were spent chasing life. It wasn't all bad, not in the slightest. The meat was plentiful, the hunt was thrilling, and the life lead was one far from purposeless.

Eventually however, the decade-held tournament would be held, and with the rise of a new chief came new and bizarre laws. One of which being that a "bride" of each tribe was to be offered to his son, as if they were pieces of meat to be handed out. And quite unfortunately, she was "selected" as the delegated bride. Rather than accept some impish demand for her virtue and hand in marriage to some spineless whelp, she would instead flee the Steppe with her father and mother's blessings, figuring that she could eek out a living as a mercenary or adventurer.

With no military willing to accept such a young girl despite her demonstrated skills, she was left with no avenue but to become an adventurer, arriving in Palisade town on the Frontier due to its closeness to home.

Adventuring Rank: Porcelain

Equipment:
Nomad Bow: A composite recurve bow of Steppe Archer's own making, made out of horn, wood, and sinew. It is well used from the years that Steppe Archer has spent hunting. Due to its smaller overall size compared to a normal bow, it is ideal for shooting on horseback and while moving, while not sacrificing the power of a full bow.

Nomad's Sword: A steel curved sword resembling a slightly less curved scimitar. Ideal for slashing things apart, or gliding past something with a slash. Has a large enough grip to be two-handed.

Torchfire: A beautiful mature auburn colored horse that Steppe Archer rode into town on. Despite the fact that she isn't able to bring it on many adventures due to the danger, she still insists on keeping it stabled up in Palisade Town, just in case she needs it. She is Steppe Archer's pride and joy, and her greatest asset in battle on a more open plain.

Skinning Knife: A small knife that's sharp enough to cut through flesh. Usually used by Steppe Archer to skin the beasts that she slays, in order to sell the pelts for a sizable sum. Steppe life taught her never to be wasteful.

Steppe Ensemble: Steppe Archer's protective leather breastplate beneath her folk-style dress. Her clothes keep her cool in just about any climate, and the leather armor beneath provides enough protection to shield her from light damage.

Porcelain Adventurer's Tag

Skills:
Horseback Riding: There are few that can match the riders of the Steppe when it comes to equestrian based combat, and as a proud Steppe child, Steppe Archer can ride with the best of them.

Trap Setting/Disarming: Much of the Steppe's hunting is done using traps to catch prey. As such, Steppe Archer is proficient in finding the perfect spots to place traps, whether that be to aid her friends, or harm her foes.

Handy Woman: On the Steppe, work is divided amongst the men and women equally. As such, Steppe Archer is skilled with physical labor, capable of many tasks that many in the realm would consider "men's" work.

[User]
Well. Things were already going bad. Very bad. Insanely bad, even. So bad that Steppe Archer's entire posture froze up as she saw their lizard friend kick a ball of liquid and get his foot stuck in it. ...And now it was eating his leg. Off to a fantastic start!

"Fire would hurt him a lot more than the ice. Besides, if this thing is made of liquid, freezing it would mean that we can break it off of him," she would say, wondering if there was anything else she could do to slow the thing, or get it off entirely. But as it stood, she wasn't a mage, or an expert on sewer monsters. ...Also, the longer they waited, the longer it would be melting the flesh off of his leg.

No pressure or anything. "Big Red, are you alright?" she asked, wondering if this was as painful as it looked. She was certain that as it stood, fire would only either agitate it, or make it crawl up his body to escape. But if it was frozen, they could smash it to pieces!

[Assistant]
The ceiling was empty, apparently it was a solitary slime. Then again more could be hiding elsewhere in these sewers but that was a thought for another day. The slime, while he wasn't looking, and it somehow lived through a football punt, had lunged and latched onto his leg which got a sigh of annoyance from him. A quick tug pulled that pant leg up and away from its acid contents and it began to digest his leg. Albeit slowly, stomach acid was powerful but it was still slow.

"No one knows where slimes come from but they're essentially monstrous forms of natures clean up crew. They eat everything and are essentially constructs from...somewhere. At least that's what the elders and shamans of my tribe have said. They like the dark." He rumbled before glaring down at the slime. Were the gods playing tricks with their dice?

"Use the ice, it's better than it slowly working through my leg." He stated while folding his arms and lifting his leg, balancing perfectly on the other so Druid Girl wouldn't have to bend down closer to the sewer floor to get to his leg. For someone getting eaten alive, slowly, he was unsurprisingly calm. Although clearly annoyed. They were both asking if he was alright and he just shrugged. "Get a sunburn on your leg and increase the pain slowly but gradually to a more severe burn. It's slower because it has to work on the scales which have no feeling." Big Red commented while waiting.

[User]
"R-right! Of course! I'll get rid of that thingy right away!" Druid Girl, who was still a bit flustered and panicked, responded to both her companions. Moving closer to Big Red's raised leg, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes momentarily, cleared her mind and began the chant for her spell.

""May winter's touch chill your bones, shiver in the icy cold, frost fingers!""

With both hands outstretched infront of her, white-glowing azure light formed at the tips of her fingers, and then shot outward like a wedge. Unfortunately, trying to hit a single creature with an attack that travels in a non-linear shape wasn't exactly easy. As such, Big Red would feel a bit of biting cold envelope his foot and knee, as well as the shin where the slimey monster was... Though in the latter case, it'd actually feel a bit nice having something cold permiate the area which was being acidically burned.

The squishy creature of goo did, as expected, not seem very fond of the sudden jet of sub-zero temperature magic that assaulted it. With a shudder, it instantly let go off Big Red's leg and dropped to the sewer floor with a wet, goopy sound. Bits of ice and frost had formed on its exterior, but ih hadn't been frozen solid or turned to ice... Not really a surprise, given that Druid Girl's spell was one of the most basic low-level attack speels a druid could learn.

Still, the freezing had done something, and the creature was noticeably more sluggish and less viscuous now. It almost looked like a lump of frozen pudding. A thought that may have delighted the black-haired girl, had she known what pudding was and had this creature not made its home in a subterranean wasate-canal. Still, as the globulate being tried to make a sluggish and rather poor attempt at an escape, the nature mage was on the case!

Unhooking the staff from her back, and sliding it around herself, she grabbed the weapon in both hands, raised it up and then slammed it down, as if she was trying to pierce the ground. With a sound that was vaguely remeniscent of someone breaking a ripe watermelon with a wooden mallet, the oak staff struck the chilled slime-monster, and consequently turned it into semi-fchilled paste. Drops and bits of goo went sailing through the air as the nasty critter was made into an actual puddle this time.

There was also a weird clinking noise following the squashing.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Druid Girl then seemed to remember something, as her head snapped back upwards and turned to look at Big Red again.

"Oh, geez, I forgot! Are you alright? Do you want me to heal your leg? I really don't think you should be walking around in a place like this with a leg that's injuured. Who knows what could get into the wound."

Albeit, thre was less of a 'wound' adn more of a burn on the lizard fighter's leg. Still, as it turned out, drinking an entire healing potion to mend an injury like this would probably be a waste. Then again, having Druid Girl cast another spell would mean she'd only be able to cast one more for the entire day. Really though, it was up to Big Red if he felt he wanted to risk walking around with a damaged limb, or get it patched up and have less fire-or-support power later on.

[Assistant]
With their lizard friend's leg safe from imminent digestion, Steppe Archer would pump her fists in the air excitedly, just in time with her druidic friend's smashing of the ugly pile of poo-scented pudding. "Nice! The ice really did work!" she exclaimed, glad to see that in spite of getting a little bit of his scales injured, Big Red was as tough as ever. She was sure that she'd at least be crying if that was her skin...but like he said, scales were tougher.

"Just don't go kicking vaguely liquid monsters again," the archer would say, tilting her head as she noticed the faintest glimmer from where the slime had once been frozen. It was...a ring of some kind. Tarnished copper with a small green gem inlaid upon it. "Huh. This might be what made that slime..." she said aloud, putting it in a pouch before adding: "Personally, I think we should get him out of here right away and wash that burn wound. Who knows what kinds of things that slime ate? Aside from maybe that ring."


[System]
Early thirties

 Derrix is an extremely tall 'human' man, standing at six foot eight and bearing broad shoulders that shelf the body of a well trained soldier. His visage holds two golden eyes that pierce his gaze below a head of short black hair. His cheeks are lean and show a strong jaw, but also more interestingly the hold each a bull's horn tattoo pointing up. His entire body from the top of his head to the soles of his feet are spiderwebbed with red and pale scars that spiral, twist, and carved their way all around him, with no exception, and including his face.

 The clothes of a city man covers his torso and legs, wearing simple soft cotton tunics of blues and whites and dark rough trousers over leather boots. Not a weapon adorns his black belt. In the stables he keeps his white horse of enormous size, on scale with his own giant's stature.

 Derrix spends his time hidden away, writing countless pages of ink or charcoal. He usually is carrying a spare piece of paper and writing utensil: Those who commonly see the quiet man assume he is a poet, and a poet he will tell them should they ask.

A locked chest of foreign make and words conceal a sword and strange winged armor, along with a cape. In the pitch black of night, you will notice a soft white aura glow from his body, as if turning the darkness itself. Should he brandish a weapon, it will flash and glow a bright white, and should he charge, he shall do the same.

[User]
'oh?' Inyata smiled at her 'so there really is much more to learn...' she pouted softly at the remark Regalia made about being a captain, that might have been why her grandfather always told her to be careful who she spoke to, and all because of her sheer attitude and amount of fun she just had, could also be that she was sheltered also within the ships and never had a female to look up to; there were many possible explanations why and she will most likely never find out about anything of why she was brought up the way she was.

Upon hearing the comment about the silk she sighed, she never really did care what material it was, silk or what-not, she just found it really comfortable to wear and very nice to keep wearing upon herself, she did like the colours though so there was maybe that?? Inyata then instantly covered her face, she wanted to snigger and giggle at Ramara for what Regalia done 'hehehe...'

[Assistant]
The order had ordered Josef to a mission- to find himself and heal as much people he can find during said mission. Josef was confused, but he didn't question the wisdom of the head of the order. "As you wish, head." Josef said, bowing to him before taking his leave. He initially went to his mentor and asked her what the head meant, "Only you can answer that Josef." his mentor replied nonchalantly. The grief of his mother's death and his fathers absence was bringing down his potential.

Packing his materials, and robes and necessities. He left the grandeur building of the order, and with the gate clinking to a close. With a lazy sigh, he began his journey. It had been a few months- he had healed a numerable amount of people, most showing gratefulness and the like. Others showing fake thanks- Josef didn't really care too much. Josef himself by nature was lazy, and would rather talk his way out of a fight. His aptitude for healing was something that surprised him- he thought that he was a talentless fool.

Walking down an unfamiliar road, a sudden group of odd individuals entered his eyes. Thinking that it might be fate in the works, and maybe his mission he walked up to the apparent leader- the human paladin. "So Sir Pretty Boy." he called out, while leaning on his staff with a lazy and bored look across his face "Any need for a Cleric or something?"

[User]
Ramara

 Ramara kept her horse in pace next to Ceceria, listening to the conversation but her eyes facing forward looking ahead of them with the intermediate eyes shift as she checked the terrain along the side of the roads. She sat there stoic as ever as she listened to the conversation; not really wanting to get involved. Talks of paladins and killings was a combination she would have nearly found humorous if it hadn't been for the constant barrage her people had to deal with from not just the average everyday citizen but from the Holier Than Art Thou Type. Ramara was a killer; there was no doubt about that. She had slain her fair share of people in the past but it didn't bother her as much as it seemed to bother others. To her it was a job; her removing a target was no different than a butcher slaughtering a pig for meat. To Ramara it was as simple as that.

 "Death claims all, doesn't matter the means," Ramara said as her eyes darted over to Ceceria. Ramara doubted any others in the group would really get what she was saying but Ceceria might. Hearing the squires words she rolled her eyes before looking back forward. Honor thy father and mother was something she had heard numerous times in her life. Why? Because they brought you into the world? So what? No one asked to be born and Ramara had seen plenty of people that their greatest problem is that they did not want the life that was dealt to them. Ramara felt no need to honor her parents, in fact herself and her older sister had shamed them by leaving and not following in their peoples ways.

 Ramara thought back to the day Sana left home. It was not a pretty memory. Their parents were furious that Sana was leaving and not taking her place in the troop. Things were said that she knew had hurt the only person she looked up to. She couldn't blame Sana for leaving, Ramara felt that Sanas assigned path was one no woman should be forced to take to honor a family name. There was no honor in that profession she felt, even if it was the oldest occupation on the planet as some called it. Ramara was luckier than Sana; her assigned path was much simpler. A violinist who wowed the crowd as she played and performed acts of acrobatics was fine but that was not what Ramara had wanted. So when she came of age she left to find Sana.

 "There is no good in dying in a battle you are too afraid to raise a sword in just because you are trying to honor a ghost," Ramara said bluntly to the young squire. Her voice was directed to him but she did not turn to look at him. She just kept looking forward, having said far more than she normally would have. Seeing someone coming up on the road, Ramara perked a brow and smirked at the new arrival calling Ishmael a pretty boy. A cleric? That was someone that could come in handy.

Regalia

 Regalia turned slightly and smiled at the young corsair. "Don't worry, you will learn over time and age brings calmness," she said before turning her attention forward once again. "Believe it or not I used to be quite the rabble-rouser. My father, may he rest in the peace of the tides, had his hands full with me when I was growing up; the only girl child on the Maelstrom, surrounded by pirates. There was no female influence," she continued with a reminiscent look playing on her features. "I was rather good in spitting contests," she said with a chuckle and shaking her head slightly at the thought of herself. "If the young me could see me now she wouldn't believe it," she said, giving Inyatas hand a gentle squeeze as they road.

 Hearing Ramaras various comments her eyes narrowed slightly. Regalia saw nothing wrong with honoring a parent. Regalia was the way she was because of her father and her grandfather before her; a third generation Corsair and Sword Wizard. She was proud of who she was and where she came from. Yes, some pirates were ruthless and caused issues but there was a code amongst them that gave them their own personal sense of honor. Something Regalia held very dear to her heart, even after all these years. It was one reason why it angered her to see her people act in stereotypical ways. She felt they were better than that. Thou not of noble birth, they could be very noble themselves. Kings and Queens of the seas, Masters of Storms and Ladies Of The Deep. For Regalia, a Corsairs life was one of the few lives a common born could grow up to be anything they wanted. Birth rights did not matter. Had Regalia never grown up and taken the life seriously, she would not have been her fathers choice to take over the Maelstrom when he died. It would have been his first mate Tseng.

 Regalia sighed remorsefully when the thought of Tseng came to her mind and quickly pushed it away when she saw the new comer approach. Perking a brow she smiled towards him and gave him a welcoming nod as he spoke to Ishmael. One who could heal a wound from battle was always good company along a voyage.

[Assistant]
Wade was perplexed by the words shared between the paladin and the jester of death. Wade had never understood why people would feel remorse for people they couldn't save. Of course there were surely family of all the people Wade had killed who wished to find vengeance. People who felt it their own fault for the deaths. That was nonsense of course, because Wade would have killed them too if they had come to the rescue.

Wade and his comrades who fought alongside each other, only thought of killing. They didn't really care, they made a joke of many things that most people wouldn't be able to laugh at. Their senses of humor were dark, but that was the reality of their situation. You had to be able to laugh at the dark things as a simple man-at-arms. You wouldn't see anything other than killing and comradeship.

The words from the very attractive assassin resounded very true to Wade. He had never raised his sword for anyone other than himself and the men beside him. He had still been the man who had made widows and widowers; orphans and childless. He remembered shooting people down in crowds, all running and screaming in terror, not a chance at survival as they were slaughtered. At the time he had only thought of killing, but now he felt the stigmas of his sins.

"One thing's for sure. You'll only carry that sword for yourself and the ones beside you. One thing paladins and simple soldiers have in common as that we know how to fight for people beside us. Because when shit gets rough, those are the only people you have." Wade had never killed for money or a just cause. He only killed for the men beside him. They were brothers, forged in blood. Now they were all dead and Wade remained.

When a random young man showed up out of the blue and offered his services to the group, Wade scoffed a little. "You seem useful, but why in the fuck are you offering your services to people when you don't even know what they are doing? You might want to ask first." He said, sounding a bit more like the sergeant-at-arms he once was. He knew all to well how to deal with young bucks, but this one was a cleric. A little different in his eyes.


[System]
Age: 18

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Weapon:

- Dragon's Fang: a straight double-edged short sword. The blade is black, with a white line in the middle. The blade can be set ablaze, which also causes the white line to turn red. The blade can also launch the flames from the blade as a fireball, which consequently extinguishes the blade, but it can easily be reignited.

- Dragon's Claw: Also a black blade with a white line in the middle, and can be set ablaze, but this blade is a hand and a half sword, single-edged and curved. Like the short sword, its white line turns red when set ablaze and can shoot fire, but unlike the short sword, it shoots the fire as a flamethrower.

Both are capable of absorbing flames, whether from each other, an explosion, etc. The stronger the flame, the more power it absorbs, and vice versa.

Specialty: Holds the short sword in his left hand and the longsword in the right. Barrages the enemy with the short sword with fast pierces and slashes, using the longsword to deliver the final blow. Deals a high amount of damage very quickly, using both swords and flames (usually at the same time), but not really one to take as many blows. It won't stop him from charing in head first though.

Semblance: Inferno: Engulfs himself with fire (does not burn himself or whatever he's touching unless he wants it to get burned) and increases his physical abilites (mainly strength and speed). Doing so will turn his hair from black to blonde, though why it does this is unknown.

He can also just engulf one part of his body (an arm, a leg, etc) rather than his entire body (his hair will not turn blonde this way, unless the flames engulf his head). The flames can be absorbed by his own blades, but doing so tires him out quicker.

Personality: He's hot headed for sure. Very easy to anger and very easy to excite. Get on his bad side, he'll demand a fight and you'll probably be lucky if all he does is burn off your hair. Get on his good side, well, it's handy to have a human torch on your side.

He believes that just about every solution to a problem involves fire or explosions. Surprisingly enough, it's worked well enough in the past, although most of those events were really solved due to luck. He also tends to be rather overconfident during fights, and gets insulted easily during fights.

Color: Light orange.

Emblem: The symbol for fire, and his two blades crossed in front of it. The fire will be orange, and the swords are entirely black (blade, hilt, everything). Here for reference.

Appearance: This guy. Also come here if you prefer. This is also a really good picture.

[User] "Wow, leader. Who woulda thought?" Robert said to himself out loud, playing with the idea in his head. "Well now that I think about it, we did talk about it back at the airships. Being the first to finish does give you a lot of time to talk about stuff." Robert stopped daydreaming to notice that the auditorium was starting to get empty pretty quickly. He looked down into his hand to see a piece of paper with instructions on how to get to their team's room. One of the faculty must have given it to him when he had been staring off into nothing like a goof. "Alright team! To our room!" he shouted, pointing and then making his way to the nearest exit. As he walked to the room, he would occasionally check behind him to make sure he didn't lose track of anyone. That would be a pretty bad mistake to make right after becoming the official leader of team RPDG. As they traversed the hallways of Beacon, Robert turned and began walking backwards, occasionally looking forwards again to make sure he didn't bump into anything or get them lost. He did this so that he could face his teammates while speaking to them. "So what should our first order of business be when we get to our room?" he asked.

[Assistant]
Sapphire Rode - Infirmary
Beep...

Sapphire tossed in her sleep like she was having a horrible dream.

"The tunnel's collapsing, everyone get out!" "Sapphire what did you do?" "They're not going to make it?" Voices echoed inside Sapphire's mind causing her to shake her head violently in her sleep in a subconscious effort to get rid of them. Then one cut cleanly through all the rest. "Shameful Miss Rode, a cave in of that size takes time. You surely would have the opportunity to escape if you'd moved faster. Perhaps this will teach you a lesson." "Dad, no, please. DAD!" Sapphire shouted in her sleep. She felt a sharp pain on her right arm which moved with painful slowness towards the center of her palm. "DAD!"

Beep...

Sapphire sat straight up, her breath was coming in raggedly and she was sobbing. She was not wearing what she usually did, instead she was dressed in clean, white, sterile hospital cloths. Her gloves were gone, the scars running over her hands clearly visible. Sapphire was still panicking but even in her state of agitation the adrenaline in her system was starting to break down and as it did pain coursed through her chest. Sapphire lay back down slowly, she pushed up her hospital shirt and and probed the pain stricken area with her fingers. It was slightly swollen, and looking at it deeply bruised. Based on the pain she was feeling Sapphire decided it was a broken rib. Slowly so as not to agitate it Sapphire inventory of her surroundings.

She was in a hospital, an infirmary obviously. The Infirmary at Beacon Academy. Now Sapphire remembered, fighting the automated combat mech. The explosions from her 'teammates' attacks. The state of the tunnel. She'd seen the decay and damage caused by the fight and she'd taken her shot, she'd destroyed the mech and it would have been a bloodless fight if not for that bumbling fool. He'd screwed up her exit. Now she remembered, her injuries had been caused by the tunnel collapse. Thankfully she'd been close enough to the exit so not as much debris had fallen on her compared to the mech otherwise she'd be dead.

It was then that Sapphire became fully aware of exactly where she was. Perhaps her brain had not had time to process what it was seeing before or else it was simply blocking the conclusion from Sapphire's mind but finally it broke. She was in a hospital. Sapphire started to hyperventilate again. The heart monitor cuff around Sapphire's upper arm related a signal to the monitor that caused it to send out a number of very fast beeps.

Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep,

"No no no..." Sapphire said to herself the sound merging into white noise. She held her arms over her ears trying to block out the sound of the heart monitor.

Doctor she's lost too much blood. You've done all you can, you saved the baby but her prognosis isn't good. She may not live to see the dawn. You should inform Mrs. Rode's family of her condition.

"NO!" Sapphire screamed, she grabbed the IV line in her arm ripping it out violently. A small but steady stream of blood began to flow from the injection point but Sapphire didn't care. Next she tore off the heart monitor cuff shoving the machine back with enough force that it hit a wall with a loud clatter. Sapphire threw off the hospital blankets and hoped onto the floor her panic temporarily nullifying the pain in her chest.

When she straightened Sapphire saw her cloths sitting on a chair. There were some scorch marks, and damaged from the debris but it looked like someone had repaired them quite thoroughly. Then on the night stand Sapphire saw something that calmed her wildly beating heart, Morpheus and Phobetor, currently retracted into small boxes strapped to two leather bracelets. Sapphire hurriedly pushed them onto her wrists. The feel of the familiar leather calmed her and she sank into a chair likely meant for visitors. The weight of a million different things crushing her. Sapphire started to cry, her father had always told her crying was a sign of weakness but there was no one around to hear it so Sapphire let the tears run free.

[User]
Though he had always been a big guy, it was today that Abel stood tallest.

As he stepped off the stage, a rare smile graced his face. He looked around at the other students, just now finishing their heartfelt round of applause, before casting a glance at Gren. To be sure, he had never pictured what sort of man lay beneath the hulking armor, but he hadn't expected an orc. He had no qualms about his new teammate's race—he had already proved himself in battle, and despite their brief confrontation concerning Abel's unscheduled flight from the junkmobile, no hard feelings remained between them. Gren was every inch the warrior that Abel was proud to call his ally. Seeing their faces projected larger than life on the auditorium's screens and the name 'Swansong' formed to christen them cinched it all.

As for the others, his joy extended to them as well, though they were not here. Having just half a team onstage while all the others had four (most of them seemingly uninjured, no less) put a small dent in his satisfaction, but the guardian wasn't about to let that get him down. Ozpin choosing Sapphire as leader initially surprised him, but after a few moments of consideration it made sense to him. Kuhaku seemed reckless, Gren a little oblivious, and him...well, leadership didn't exactly suit a defeatist. Abel envisioned a smile spreading across Sapphire's face as he and Gren delivered the news to her hospital bed, not recalling the cold silence and shut-in recalcitrance that she had displayed every second her psyche wasn't occupied by the rush of battle.

For a few moments, the speech was thrown off track as Ozpin called out a few seniors for giving another team a rough time. While he initially thought that it was a good thing that the other newbies had been run so ragged, after the girl shouted Abel realized that he was close enough to see her. She and two others stood apart from the other students, in a near-empty circle of open space surrounding them. The mocking face of the boy, the stiff righteousness of the girl, and the scornful, unabashed look on the face of the faunus convinced him that they didn't deserve his sympathy. Now that he thought about it, it almost made him mad to see the faces of senior that had leveled their unfair advantage to bully their soon-to-be peers. When Ozpin continued speaking, Abel was glad for someone else to focus on.

Hearing about PHGM didn't surprise him at all. Pan, Hansen, Gretchen, and Mary had seemingly formed a connection long before their cards sealed the deal. The mention of facing an entire den of Itzamna only cemented the fact; Abel had experienced the wrath of those creatures firsthand from atop the walls of the kingdom. Plus, he owed them--before PGHM had happened along, he and Sapphire had been pinned down on a hillside by an Ursa Major. If not for their interference, he and his quiet partner wouldn't have been able to flee into the nearby train tunnel and encounter the remainder of their team. He watched respectfully as the four stood on stage. Mary looked to be as excited as he had been, but took it a step further by exuberantly waving to everyone with both arms, eyes closed in adulation.

Before long, he and Gren were on their way. Though not usually the talkative type, Abel couldn't restrain himself. "That was pretty great! Dang shame Ku and Saph couldn't come. Want to visit them in the healing place and tell them the good news?" He brushed a hand against his blue coat, which he had put on specially for the ceremony. Honestly, after seeing it among his things and remembering how much nicer it was than his plaid hoodie, he seriously thought about a permanent wardrobe change.

[Assistant]
Mokuren really tried to concentrate on the speech in front of her. But, she couldn't. She was hungry, but she knew she wasn't. It was the kind of hunger a drug addict had, and as much as that addict might try to deny the cravings, they would not go away until sated. And, in this room of so many people, she was going mental. So many people, but she couldn't touch a single one, or they would know. She didn't want anyone to know. Knowing is bad. She heard her name spoken by Ozpin, and the team name of 'Gilgamesh' which was a pretty awesome name. Not that it mattered to her. The fire in her veins wouldn't quit it because of a fancy name. There was only one thing that could quench that fire, and it was not something good, or easily obtained.

As she was going though her problems, one of her team mates suggested that they change the name, because of some stupid human reason. Irritated, Mokuren stepped forwards until she was level with his ear, and then spoke.
"Shut up, or I'll kill you" She whispered, barely stopping herself from carrying out her threat and then relieving her urge. She would keep it under wraps now, if only for now. This man, with his stupid, pathetic complaint deserved no sympathy from Mokuren, even if he was going to be a team mate from now on.

[User]
Priscilla was actually relieved that they finally got out of that situation that happened back there in the forest with those creatures. And they were the first one to reunite so that was good too. As they arrived into the auditorium, the professor was speaking about who was going to be the leader of the team. Basically all four of them were going to be in the team for the rest of their Beacon lives. That sounded not to bad actually, she got a good bond with them. They were basically like the fantastic four, as Robert said.

That's right, Robert. He was going to be the leader of the team! He actually deserves to be the leader because he is a leader and he acts like on as well. Also he was a big ole nerdy guy like Reed from the Fantastic four, so that was interesting. Priscilla smiled at her team, as they walked to their room. "Well.. we could always..go explore the academy or something?" That was a thought but she actually just wanted to lay down and relax a little, but of course.. the boys probably wouldn't want that. So she decided to do anything they wanted to do. "Eh. Anything you guys want to do. I'll be fine."

[Assistant]
Daniel smirked as his name was called. It was only natural that he would pass the initiation. Admittedly it was not what he had expected, but it was exciting, and it actually forced him to work in a team. Admittedly, his teammates came in handy, but he didn't really like being in a team. Oh well, four years wouldn't be too long.

His team leader, Robert if he remembered correctly, suddenly decided that they should go to their room. Daniel was about to use his usual, "Who made you boss?" line when he realized how stupid that sounded right now. He glanced at the other teams, then followed Robert to their room. It was smaller than he expected.

"OK, let's establish whose beds are whose," Daniel said. "We certainly don't want to mix up our beds and find people sleeping in the wrong beds, now would we? Although... finding a girl sleeping in your bed might not be a bad thing, eh?" He gave a little nudge to Priscilla, then laughed at his own joke.


[System]
Age:
23

Gender:
Male

Race/Nationality:
White - German

Appearance:

5'10, 170 lb, and very little fat. His eyes are blue, but appear green because of his yellow safety glasses, which he wears almost constantly. He has blonde hair, which rests on his head and flies wildly in the wind. He keeps it long, believing that women find it more attractive. He either wears his uniform, or t-shirts which display his muscles.

Personality:
Arrogant, womanizing, and show-off can all be used to describe Kurt. He has a collection of qualities that all blend down to that special kind of d-bag. He sees no problem with playing dirty, and will always boast about his achievements to the ladies. He has very few emotional ties, and as a result, can appear very uncaring and unmotivated to those who do not know him. Kurt personally does not drink, but is willing to take advantage of inebriated females who cross his path. He will never go out of his way for these women however, and will only court them if they show interest first. Kurt has a very traditional mindset, and doubts in the abilities of women unless he is shown what they are capable of. He has an obsessive attitude towards his glasses, wearing them even while inside, which only adds to how much of a douche he appears to be. Kurt holds those who compliment anything positive about him very closely, and has a very strong sense of morals, of which cheating is not a part. Kurt has an uncle, father, mother, and a brother, but they live outside of Mundin and he does not consider them family. Kurt does not enjoy hurting people emotionally, and refuses to touch women who are 'taken'. Finally, Kurt's best trait is his strong sense of justice, and his unwillingness to compromise his beliefs.

 Underneath the layers of cockiness that Kurt sets up, lies a very fragile persona. Due to the molestation he experienced as a child, he has had severe self-image issues, which he disguises with intense exercising and a cocky attitude. He takes every insult personally, and has gone through multiple periods of anorexia. Coping with suicidal and self-harming thoughts at a young age, Kurt attempts to give the illusion that he has a perfect life (He has had very few, if any, thoughts of harming himself since joining the MDU). Additionally, his power caused several odd traits to manifest in Kurt, such as a fear of heights, feeling comfortable below sea level, and developing a penchant towards rock candy. Due to his poor upbringing, Kurt has a small degree of hoarding, and also is below average in terms of intellect.

Kurt loves puns, especially about rocks.

Abilities:
Geokinesis

Kurt is capable of moving rocky materials such as dirt, stone, cement, and concrete. He is capable of manipulating it as long as he is 'connected' to it (He would be able to move a boulder laying on the ground if he was on the ground, but would only be able to move a rock in the air if he touched it). Any piece of earth he is already moving, he can move for as long as he wishes, and does not need to be 'connected' to it while he moves it. He can change the shape, speed, and design of the earth he is manipulating. His range of manipulating earth he is already moving extends outwards to a 50-foot radius of himself. His control over earth is very precise, and he is able to create intricate sculpture out of stone with ease. Kurt can fire a single piece of earth that weighs 1 pound at bullet-like speed, with decent precision.

Unfortunately, his power has multiple limiters. Every time he wishes to manipulate earth, no matter what, he must be doing some somatic input. The amount of movement required to use his power is equal to or greater than a foot step, and must be maintained during the entirety of the manipulation. Additionally, his powers maximum weight that he can lift is 250lbs. He is able to change the shape and texture of earth weighing more than 250 pounds, but lifting it will result in migraines, nosebleeds, burst blood vessels, aneurysms, seizures, amnesia, comas, and eventually death. Kurt can only manipulate 5 objects at a time, and moving them too fast will make them impossible to redirect. Due to his 5 object limit, manipulating something like sand is impossible for Kurt, even though he can create it. Additionally, Kurt's power is directly affected by his emotional state: it will work at full power when he is confident or doing what he believes is right, but can be weakened to nearly half it's usual power if he is depressed or doing something he morally disagrees with. Finally, his power affects rock-like materials only, meaning no metal.

Biography:
Born and raised in the city of Dortmund, Kurt's childhood was spent in poverty. His father spent hours every day searching for a job, but with unemployment on the rise and a flailing economy, their was little a convicted criminal could do to support his family. His older bother was the provider, and they barely managed to scrap by with welfare and his abysmal paycheck. Due to this poor lifestyle, Kurt spent his time at the local lake, spending hours fishing with the old fishing rod he was gifted by an old neighbor. It was at the age of 6 when his father finally cracked, begging his brother,Kurt's uncle, to give them refuge while he searched for a job.

Kurt's uncle was kind enough to offer refuge, allowing Kurt's family to stay at his mansion in Essen. Kurt's brother, having been relieved of the duty of providing for a starving family, returned to school. His mother had stopped the secret draining of family funds that she ad been doing for years, feeling comfortable in the large house. Kurt's father now could spend even longer searching for a job, which would never come. Kurt was brutally molested and raped.

Kurt's uncle had initially started the deed on his fourth night there and, with a voice dripping in venom, told Kurt that he would remove his family from the premises immediately if Kurt said a single word. As a result, Kurt quickly became a shy, introverted boy, and began to hate himself. In order to provide even a mild sense of security, and with the absence of a lake, Kurt began to exercise in his free time, spending hours training his body. At the age of 7, he was stronger than most kids twice his age. This life style continued for another year, until Kurt had hit the age of 8. It was at this time Kurt had finally had it.

Kurt left for child services in the middle of the night and, with multiple pieces of evidence (including a recording), successfully sentenced his uncle to 50 years in prison. After doing so, he was sent away from his family due to neglect, with no one ever realizing that Kurt had hidden the abuse on purpose. He was sent to the newly discovered city of Mundin, and lived in an orphanage until 14, it was then that his powers to manipulate the earth had begun to show itself, generating his new status as an empowered. It was at this point that the military, having begun to realize the potential that the empowered possessed, offered to allow Kurt to join the Mundin Defense Unit (MDU). With little other options for an child with no connections, Kurt agreed to the terms, placing him in a particularly nice training academy. During this time, he quickly formed his cocky persona, in order to appear more important to the other students. Graduating 4 years later at the age of 18, Kurt immediately joined the MDU, preparing to flaunt the powers he was given.

5 years later, and Kurt is still living the life, and he is ready to finally show the world that no matter how hard it tries, it can't beat him down.

Specialties:
-Training in close-quarters combat, specifically with a knife.
-Charisma
-Mastery over English and German, both on a native speaker's level.
-Willpower

Equipment:
-Safety Goggles, Yellow
-Steel Knife, for emergency use only
-Cell phone
-ID card, works as both Mundin and MDU identification
-Keys and wallet
-Black Book, filled with fake names and descriptions
-Several pieces of Rock candy, calms the nerves
-A small apartment, government issued

Ken Black: Kurt's closest friend. Ever since they met on a joint mission in the MDU, the two have been inseparable. Whenever Kurt is not hanging at home or work, he is probably out with Ken, whether out on the town, or just hanging out. Ken is arguably the closest and only friend that Kurt has and, as such, is the person that Kurt would go to first in an emergency. Kurt values his friendship with Ken over everything else and, despite his teasing, would do anything for Ken. The only thing that Kurt dislikes about Ken is his shyness, which Kurt is trying to remedy with babes and booze. The past 8 months that the two had shared were the happiest time in Kurt's life, and he wouldn't trade it for anything.
WIP

Other:
He works for the Mundin Defense Unit, and usually is assigned to help watch the Eastern wall.

Kurt, surprisingly enough, is an avid fisher, and enjoys spending his time in this manner, especially in the summer months.

Kurt dislikes drunks, muscular men, and married women. He hates Pedophiles, child abusers, and people who question his sexuality.

Kurt likes children (Not in that way), lifting weights, compliments, and puns. He loves women, fishing, and law enforcement.

As expected of someone with his abilities, Kurt has an irrational fear of heights. This only manifested itself after he got his powers.

Despite all of his efforts, Kurt is still a virgin, but will vehemently deny this fact, usually by listing off multiple fake names.

Kurt is incredibly frugal, and saves half of everything he earns in a safety deposit box.

[User]
Nothing can stop Margaret from kneeling on a corner and recite the Memorare, not even anyone thinking she should've already put her imaginary friends back in the past. And this was what the girl had just finished wrapping up. Today's special requests for intercession was, of course, for things to run smoothly as the city-- the country, begins busying itself for its annual celebrations. Not to mention, too, an intercession for the Prime Minister to just finish picking his clothes and combing his hair already. She had on herself the Memorare leaflet among countless other leaflets in her front pocket, the white devotional scapular of the Most Blessed Trinity, and a relic of St. John Paul II, a tiny strand of hair encased in glass and decorated with a wooden inscription bearing the pope's name. Whether they actually had mysterious powers, most especially in this age of warring wizards and psychics, is subject to dispute.

Going back to the parliament's courtyard, a bored platoon of troops continued to lie in wait while the good 'ol PM was still wrapping up things on his end. In fact, even the officer on duty himself was keeping himself entertained through his holophone, playing the latest installment in his fancied side-scroller franchise. Though as soon as someone-- one who appeared to be their supplier of sophisticated equipment and gizmos, came hurrying right up to Margaret's face and asked where he was, the officer on duty put his holophone aside and started making his approach as the girl started to explain things back.

"The officer is just right there, walking to you." she replied, her voice faltering faintly as she pointed a finger.

The officer, a tall and mustached, but rather lean man in his late thirties, briefly flashed a small grimace of slight annoyance before walking up to the lady.

"...and you're the one making shipments, I suppose. Where's your load?"

[Assistant]
Elliot scanned the crowd with a rhythmic precision, his shoulders tense and his brows knotted. He shifted his weight from one foot to another and glanced towards the PM and then his fellow officers, it seemed they were all getting restless too.

"This PM better hurry the hell up..." Elliot said to no one particular, though he saw the officer on his immediate left, a funny little fellow called Rupert, crack a small grin. Elliot tugged at his jacket and checked his wallet keys and phone were still in there and when he looked back up he spotted a girl talking to the Captain and couldn't help as a fond smile tugged at his lips. Everyone from the station remembered her of course and she had a habit of making all the officers smile and grin when she was brought up in conversation.

Elliot let his shoulders relax, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, when he breathed out he opened them again and he found himself enjoyig the day. After all, today was a celebration!