[System]
"Look, don't get me wrong. I don't intend to play the part of some grand hero. I mean, that's what I summoned you for, right?"

Gender: Male

Age: 18

---

Personality: A kind-hearted and determined soul who could best be described as "an information hound and a weakling who just doesn't know when to give up". Wes is a bucket of endless curiosity and resourcefulness, and has spent his entire life dedicated to learning and seeking knowledge. Due to circumstances surrounding his youth, he doesn't take kindly to being marginalized or told he can't do something, and he's always had more brains and determination than he's had common sense, getting into trouble frequently as a child.

Likes/Dislikes: New things, books/Being called "short"

Biography: Born the son of a normal mother and a washed up magus father (think post-Fuyuki Kiritsugu), Wes has always been an inquisitive kid, opting to spend most of his time reading indoors when other kids were out playing. He's gone through multiple phases in his life, obsessing over animals and dinosaurs as a small child, reading mountains of books on history and mythology as a kid and a preteen, and finally shifting over to a more tech-based angle as teenager, tinkering with DIY machinery using online guides before moving on to programming and then inevitably hacking. But as he neared the twilight of his teenage years, he learned about his father's uniqueness through his mother, and began feverishly obsessing over magic, going through his father's old books and any resources he could find online (though he didn't find much at first due to the way most magi avoid technology like the plague). A true self-taught genius, though lacking in both heritage and quality of circuits, Wes liquidated most of what remained of his family's assets and life insurance once his mother passed away suddenly due to an illness she'd kept hidden from him. He used the money to fly to London and set up a meeting with a representative of the Clocktower, to beg them to let him learn magic at the prestigious institution. Perhaps taking pity on him, the Clocktower granted him entrance as a student, but quickly found he was far more trouble than he was worth with his heretical ideas and attitude. He made a lot of enemies out of his professors and fellow students, and whatever ideas he shared about "a new model of magic for the modern world" were laughed at and shot down. Wes didn't quit or back down though, and when news of the Holy Grail War reached him, he bet everything on this one chance to prove he was right and broke bad, taking pretty much every risk he could take or had to take to obtain the necessary resources to be in the War. What happens next doesn't matter to Wes. What matters is that this is the only opportunity he's ever going to get to prove that he isn't a weakling, and that his ideas are viable. The Grail, if he obtains it, is irrelevant (though he'd probably use it to skip past the consequences of what he had to do to become a Master).

Family History: Wes is a second-generation magus, and an infirm at that. Literally only a single step up from the worst of the worst by the Association's standards. However it was weakness that made Wes start thinking outside the box, tinkering with the idea of fusing magic and technology. His father, if he's even alive or knows the boy exists, has been gone for years, never being much of a family man. By all rights he's probably dead, leaving Wes 100% alone in the world. Save of course for the Servant he's about to summon...

Origin: Curiosity

Elemental Affinity: Fire

Number of Magic Circuits: D

Quality of Magic Circuits: C

Od: D

Magecraft: Wes is primarily a practicioner of Formalcraft with a foundation in alchemy, relying on traps, complex magic rituals, and pre-fab magic items that lose their usefulness after one use. Seen as an inherently pathetic and weak form of magic ("magecraft for dummies"), the techniques suit a person like Wes well, who doesn't place too much importance on stature or the ideas of magecraft being some sort of "sacred tradition". Specific techniques he knows/is fond of include* Transmutation: Simple alchemic synthesis, albeit a tad more versatile and advanced than standard chemistry. Skills include brewing poisons, altering the composition of metals etc.
* Mana Dowsing: By collecting samples of the local soil and water, Wes can identify residual trails of mana as well as map out local ley lines. A basic alchemy skill.
* Hypnosis: One of the few basic tricks any Clocktower magus is expected to know to gain entry to the school. Wes has some particular talent with this simple parlor trick, and has found ways to make it work through telepresence.
* Reinforcement: Another simple skill Wes decided to learn to try and compensate for his weak body. Wes isn't terribly good at it though, and all he can really do is reinforce his body to not give out under stress and fatigue rather than the more superhuman feats being performed by those adapt in the combat arts.
* Familiars (Animals): Wes has an affinity for smaller familiars more suited to snooping, and usually makes contracts with the leaders of the local rat population as well as a few cats and small birds like pigeons or crows. He can sustain maybe a few dozen rats due to their small size, but only three to four cats or birds at the same time.

Equipment: Wes has brought with him into the Holy Grail War a grand total of* $50000 US dollars in the form of ¥50 coins, skimmed off the top of various criminal and Association bank accounts worldwide
* 50 pints of animal blood, as well as 6 pints of his own blood in vials drawn over the course of a few years for spells requiring a stronger, more personal touch
* The keys to a smaller sort of shack in the warehouse district near the docks (bought in the first few posts)
* 50 prepaid disposable cell phones ("burner phones") (bought in the first few posts)
* 300 aerosol cans (bought in the first few posts
* 250 detonator caps (bought in the first few posts)
* 100 miniature DYI wireless cameras with night vision lenses and thermal imaging (bought in the first few posts)
* 20 RC cars and five commercial drones (bought in the first few posts)
* 2 laptops; a nicer, higher-end primary model that he uses for school, and a cheaper backup one (bought in the first few posts)
* A portable generator and a few canisters of gasoline (bought in the first few posts)
* A portable stove (bought in the first few posts)
* Matches and disposable lighters (bought in the first few posts)
* 3 12-packs of water and emergency MREs (bought in the first few posts)
* Paintbrushes, straightedges, protractors and lots of stencil paper

Skills: Reading, information synthesis, memorization, observation

Other: He was born with a congenital heart defect that stunted his growth and prevents him from partaking in any overly strenuous exercise or stressful activities. It was the primary reason he spent so much time reading as a kid, and is the reason he is as short as he is (less than 5').

[User]
"I-", Rasputin said, inserting the key into the ignition, "Am the great Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin, aide of Nicholas II! And you-", he waved the clipboard, "-Should rematerialize. Time is of the essence and I will be asking you to fill out this paperwork as we drive."

Rasputin placed the clipboard on the passenger seat, revealing a Japanese residency application. He spoke quickly as they pulled out onto the road, the car's front axle groaning softly as it was forced to take turns a car without power steering should never reasonably be expected to take.

"Do not be worrying about personal seal or identification, you will be finding all of them in glove compartment- though I will be needing to make changes to some after mass to be accounting for you being yourself. You are Doctor Alucard Orlock Akula, a 40-year-old phlebotomist- if anyone asks why you look young, you take good care of your skin- with a doctorate in haematology, educated in the Czech Republic. I am a humble electrician. We became friends over the internet due to our mutual interest in Slavic folklore, and have decided to work together to fulfill our lifelong dream of living in Japan, yes?"

Rasputin fished around in a bag stuck in the ashtray, retrieving a handful of washers. He absentmindedly swallowed them one or two at a time as he drove, as if he had somehow become addicted to metallic cough drops. After a few minutes, he spoke again.

"I should probably be telling you this right now: This is a one-church town. I understand that you are also of Russian Orthodox denomination, so please be understanding that, if mistakes are being made, I will be sharing in your outrage."

With that, they took a turn onto a small, tree-lined road. With a little luck, they'd make it to mass before it began.

[Assistant]
Caster blinked, momentarily floored by her Master's words and actions. She had prepared herself for the sort of Master way in over his head and requiring her gentle guidance in order to survive this iteration of the Grail War. Yet here was her Master, having demonstrated his mastery of the mental arts on the peasants, established a secluded love nest for their activities, and proved he possessed strong moral convictions to boot.

"I'm truly the luckiest Servant to ever be summoned if I have a Master like you." Letting the spell tag fade into the ambient prana, Tamamo accepted the offer hand and sat sieza beside her Master's sleeping bag. She was practically glowing with joy as she smiled at him. "You already know my name and legend, there is little more for me to add at this time. Our fate's are intertwined, so you shall have my utmost trust Wes."

The rule about not killing civilians might be an issue in the future. Not that she had any great compulsion to go out and eat their souls, blood, or semen but if it came between pushing an old lady out of the way of a speeding car or keeping her Master safe, she knew what she would do. The insinuation that she was the weakest Servant class stung even knowing she had E rank STR and END, but it wasn't hard for her to justify it as Wes showing concern for her safety. Such a kind Master she had. He likely couldn't imagine life without her now.

"So you are seen as a heretic. Does that perhaps have to do with your wish for the Grail? My wish has already been granted, so I can dedicate myself to bringing about yours!"

A sly grin pulled at her lips as she turned away to leave Wes staring at the top of head and the attentive fox ears. "But if I am to be the best wife I can be, I expect you to work just as hard. I can't reveal my secret garden without you reaching sufficient relationship flags!"

The thought processes of divinity is truly beyond all mortal comprehension.


[System]
Appearance: Elleonora is 1, 73 m tall with well honed body. She has shoulder length black hair and blue eyes. Her clothing of choice is well her armor. She wears metal plate breast plate over a chainmail, metal greaves and elbow length gauntlets. Pretty much how it's in the picture but with a chainmail under the chestplate. Under the armor, she has a few scars around her body. Mostly left from before she started wearing said armor.

 Her weapon of choice is a big two handed battle hammer. She uses it almost constantly for every battle. If the surroundings doesn't allow it, she uses a small short sword she keeps on the back of her belt.
Age: 20

 Race: Human

 Class: Cleric Lv 3

 Biography: Elleonora was born on the roads. Her mother was part of a merchant's caravan and her father was a traveler that happened to share camp with the caravan one night. After that night, her mother never met her father again. Thus Elleonorah was raised solely by her mother for a few years at least. It wasn't much of a living as the caravan constantly was in bad finance situation and when she was around 7 years old the caravan broke up and everyone moved away. Her mother got stuck in the middle of some backwater town, with no money, no transport and a little child. After a few days of struggling, her mother left her at the local church under the pretense it was for a few hours, but then she vanished. Since then Elleonora lived at the church, helping around the place as the cleric was trying to convert her and show the child the beauty of the god he worshiped.

 All things considering, the religion didn't click right with her. She couldn't put her mind behind a god like that. One day she simply decided to live her life around her own philosophy of the world. She started helping people, fighting those she deemed unworthy. It was a pretty simple way of thinking... beat into submission or kill those who are danger and help those who can be helped. Her holy magic was powered by her own dedication to her way of thinking. One day she left the church and the town, heading into the vast world.

[User]
Malkai

Once at the village, Malkai was quick to go his own way. While everyone else went to the common area to relax Malkai stayed in his room to meditate. He had ordered some food to be delivered to his room and specifically called for fresh berries. Falchion rested upon his staff and was already getting read to head to bed. While Malkai's partner tends to keep an eye open when he sleeps, today was also a very strenuous day after all that fighting and flying.

Some time passed and soon there was a knock on his door. Malkai went to answer it and it was one of the servant, who had brought him a plate with bread, a bowl of berries, and a mug of water. Malkai wordlessly took these things and closed the door on the servant. Closing the window curtains, Malkai took off his wooden masks and revealed his face. To a casual observer he could pass as human, but without his skin-changing pigments and his large wooden mask, a keen eye could spot his orcish features. And the last thing Malkai or this group needed was more people hunting them down for the race of certain party members.

After getting comfortable Malkai ate his meal quietly, but left a few berries untouched. They were indeed freshly picked; he could still taste the earthly energies in the juices. So he casted a spell on them. Donning his mask Malkai's hand hovered over the berries. [Goodberry.] Malkai said in druidic. A brief flash of energy flown into the berries and soon, twelve berries were infused with magical energy. Now these berries could provide sustenance as if they were a full meal, as well as heal very minor injuries, within the next 24 hours. It wouldn't be as good as a proper healing spell but they could work in a pinch.

Next thing Malkai did was go up to his window. Using only his finger he inscribed runes into his window still. [Flame Trap.] He was slightly worried about possible drow assassins coming through his room and intended to ward them as appropriate. He would do the same for the door but before he did so, he wrote a note that said "Do not Disturb - Party members knock first". If they barge into his room anyways, it was their fault for not reading the sign. Once he felt his room was secure Malkai crawled into bed and went to sleep.

---

Veridis Quo

At the Desert Diamond, Veridis personally made sure his horse was comfortable inside. He was no Druid but he could tell his horse got really spooked when the gnolls attacked. "Shh, shh. You did great today. Yours safe here." Feeding the horse a sugar cube Veridis left the beast to rest.

Inside some of the others were already conversing and eating. Normally Veridis would use a time like this to chat or tell stories, but he figured that this was a time to relax not showboat. So instead he walked towards the inn's hearth, taking out his lute to play a soothing tune for the others.

[Assistant]
[Desert Diamond, Common Area]

 Sitting at a table in the far back right corner of the tavern or inn was a hooded man. He looked up and watched the new visitors
one by one enter the establishment. He noticed something odd about one of them. A elf in the company of some rather interesting friends.
He snickered and pulled from his pocket a tiny mouse and brought it up to his mouth so he could whisper into its ears. "They've arrived"
Then placed the mouse down and it scurried off. He then got up and headed for the door. As he exited one of the villages guards entered.
The guard moved to a table and sat down plopping his helmet down on the table.

 One of the bar maids looked up at the right time and sighed. The guard looked rather exhausted like the day had been much longer for this one.
She walked over and leaned onto on of the chairs. "Everything alright? Another rough night huh?" She asked. He looked up at her and then
back at the table. "You could say that,... me and a few of my fellow guardsmen where patrolling on a simple night survey. Then Jenna got hit with
a black arrow of some kind. It wasn't one of the Gnoll arrows either. It was different. The design of the tip and when we took him to the apothocarythere was not much we could do. Turns out the arrow was poisoned by some sort of advanced spider venom." The talk began to make the woman nervous. This also caused the man who was leaving to freeze for a second and look to the guard. The face of concern on his face gave it away. This was not something he wanted to hear.

 "Shit,..she will want to hear about this." He said in a low voice. Not sure if anyone heard him or not he fully left the tavern.

Vivian

 What felt like hours was only minutes as Vivian laid upon her bed staring at the ceiling of the room. She closed her eyes in attempt to sleep. She heard a sound of a bird landing on the window and looked over to see a Raven staring right at her. Then she heard a voice. "Well now,.. to think I would see you here of all places." As she heard the voice she looked in its direction to see a familiar person sitting in a chair in the corner. "Long time no see Cassandra,..." She said. The dark elf the emerged from the dark corner and into the light. Unlike her sister Vivian who had silver white hair. Cassandra's hair was a bright red color and matched her just as red eyes. "..Im impressed that you survived the trek of the underdark dear sister. That place is dangerous for a book worm like yourself. You spent to long in that library."

 Vivian rolled her eyes and moved to stand but felt her sisters hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, I know your not here to chase after me. You would not be in the company of these strange people if you where. Your out here like me on the run from our brothers and sisters. Problem is you lead them straight to me. Good thing they don't know that yet. Your eyes have been opened and now you are here." The words caused Vivian to pause for a second and as she looked up she felt her sisters lips against her forhead. This caused her to blink and when her eyes re opened she could see deeply into the red eyes. "I can not travel with you, so don't bother asking. It is best if the two of us are not in the same place at one time. However, I do have friends and I will use them to keep you informed on our brothers and sisters. Expect a attack inside the temple."

 With that Cassandra then kissed her sister upon the lips and pulled back. She pulled out a knife and took one of the fruits from the basket and took a bite from it. She smiled and looked to the window." Its a shame,... it was quite a wonderful night out." She said. Vivian looked to the window and then looked back to find her sister gone. The whole thing took her breathe away. She was in shock to find her sister here of all places and to find that Cassandra was willing to help her. After everything that had happened.... Vivian looked to the necklace and sighed. No way was she getting some sleep now. She grabbed it and put it on instantly turning back to her surface elf features. With that she exited the room and proceeded to go down the stairs.

Alexander

 Alex had no idea these two ladies where this into the leaf. They seamed rather enjoying it. Not that he never partook in it himself. Nothing like a good puff here and there after a battle. It did make for a good stress reliever and he could see that Elleonara took it to a whole new level by adding cherries to it. Some people liked it in that way. He couldn't say he was too into the different scents really. He was more into tasting the different mead or ales then he was of tobacco. Speaking of mead.... "Bartender,... I would like to try the local mead. Not going to get a whole lot. Don't want to have a hangover tomorrow." He said as he pulled a coin forth. Soon after the mead was poured and he quickly too a drink. It had a bit of spice too it which he did not expect. It was a sweet spice though cinnamon to be exact. He thought it was actually... pretty good.

 Soon he noticed from the reflection that the woman of the hour had decided to join them. Vivian seemed a bit odd though as if her mind was else where but only for a few seconds as she seemed to get back to the present. Was it the necklace?... perhaps with their help the locals can see Vivian as not the drow but for what she was. Tell then the woman had to put on a disguise. He sighed as she approached.
"Couldn't sleep huh?"
 "You can say that,... my mind is to far off to sleep." She looked to see if the bar had any wines. She noticed some elven wine and raised a brow. There where no elves
here from what she could tell yet there it was. They must have it shipped for their elven guests that arrive. She gestured to the bottle and put a few gold pieces down.
"Keep them coming..." She said as she touched her lips with her finger tips. She couldn't help wonder what her sister was thinking doing all that. Her sister always liked teasing her. She wondered if Cass had found a new lover yet... or would it be too hard for her to do so.


[System]
Basics
--------------------
Age: 17

Birthday: November 18th

Gender: Male

Personality: Surly and sometimes unapproachable. Troubled, doesn't often talk except to snap at people and say rude things. Humorless, unlike Mattie. Blunt and to the point, he doesn't care whether or not he's with people, although under his tough shell he really misses his sister.

Notable traits: Gets high on prescription drugs (!)

--------------------
Appearance
--------------------
General: Thin from lack of regular meals, and carries a long scar from the bottom of his neck across his cheek, all the way to his hairline, from a knife fight before it all started.

Skin tone: Damn pale

Hair color: Black

Eye color: Honey-brown

Height: 5'9

Weight: 116 lbs

Other:

---------------------
Miscellaneous
---------------------
Biography: Darrin felt too grief-stricken and irrationally angry to stay home after the death of his brother Aaron. He had always been quick to anger, but usually it burned off quickly. Not this time. After leaving a rude note to Mattie in the middle of the night, he ran away and started roaming the streets. He ended up getting involved with drug dealers who gave him some money and a place to stay in exchange for distributing "goods". After himself getting addicted and facing 'termination', society collapsed and Darrin was able to slip away while the majority of the dealers became infected.

Equipment: A baseball bat with rusty nails poking out.

Living relatives: Mattie

Other:

[User]
Nicholas smiled softly, nodding his head. "Alright. Th-Those pills are about to knock me out anyway." He yawned a huge yawn and settled into the couch, trying to get comfortable. It was a hell of a lot easier to get comfortable on this couch than it was on the floor, he noted. His eyes thanked him when he closed them for the night, hand on his stomach. He always put his hand on his stomach when he slept on his back, which wasn't often. It was just the most comfortable for him.

Before long, Nicholas was fast asleep. His face was still remarkably pale, but his cheeks were turning bright red as he slept, and about an hour after he'd fallen asleep, Nicholas started to shiver. His breathing stayed more or less normal, catching at times and quickening at others. At one point, he started crying out in pain.

[Assistant]
Mattie was trying hard not to doze off, but it wasn't easy. At times Nicholas' breathing changed, but it didn't sound serious. It simply sounded like perhaps he was dreaming, and different subconscious stimuli were changing his heart and breathing rates. Not that she knew all those fancy terms. And not that she could do anything if it was more dire. She just wanted to be there.

She was slipping away when a cry of pain made her jerk her head upwards. She was up in an instant and prodding Nicholas roughly. "Wake up!" she said, and shook him for good measure. She might not have been so aggressive about it, had she gotten any real shut-eye. But it hadn't been an option. And now she worried excessively.

She glanced at Cole. Sleeping like a rock. Good.

[User]
Nicholas woke up, not knowing where in the hell he was. When he saw Mattie, at first he didn't know who she was and he screamed. Why wasn't he at the warehouse?! Where was Alisa and mom?!

"Wh-Where the hell is my arm?!" he half-whispered, half-screamed, and then cried out again in pain, panicking. Then, he started to remember. His erratic breathing started to calm down and he sunk back into the couch. Cole started to wail softly, but soon stopped and drifted back to sleep. Nicholas wiggled around on the couch, head leaned back in pain. "It's so hot," he whined. "Mattie, it's so ho-ot!"

---

The commotion being made out in the living room woke Jacob from his already restless sleep. He jumped to his feet, grabbing his revolver off of his nightstand, and charged into the room.

"What's going on?" he asked, concerned.

"It's so hot," he heard Nicholas saying.

Immediately, he went over and crouched beside the chair in front of Nicholas. He put a hand to Nicholas' forehead and cheeks, then withdrew it and shook his head. "God, he's got a fever," he muttered.

[Assistant]
Mattie stepped back when Nicholas yelled at her. After the happy note with which he'd gone to sleep, she hadn't expected that amount of agitation. Her head snapped around to look at Cole. Please be quiet... To her surprise, he did. The relief was short-lived because Jacob had practically hurtled into the room.

"Jesus titty-fucking Christ!" she yiped upon seeing the gun. Fever. Oh no. No no no, that wasn't good. Mattie swallowed, even though her mouth had gone dry. "You can get fevers from other things," she said desperately. "I'm betting the knife he cut with wasn't sterilized. It could be a different infection." But she knew that the risk was high. Denying it would get them nowhere.

Wide, pleading eyes fixed on Jacob. "What are we going to do? Kill him?" She struggled to keep back the tinge of panic.

[User]
"That's all we can do," Jacob said to her, looking at her with a grave expression. "We can't risk it." Hesitating, he readied his revolver, aiming it at Nicholas' head.

"No!" Nicholas yelled, putting his arm up instinctively, as if it would shield the bullet. "Please, no, don't kill me! Don't kill me!"

Jacob lowered the gun against his better judgement, studying Nicholas carefully. With appropriate caution, he again crouched to be eye-level with Nicholas. "Nick," he spoke softly. "What's your full name?"

"Wha-?" he started, then asked, "M-Middle name too?"

"Yeah," Jacob nodded. "Middle name, too."

"N-Nicholas Charles Green."

Looking back at Mattie, Jacob told her, "I need you to do two things for me, okay? Go into the bathroom - it's over there - and get a wash cloth off of the white counter. Those are the clean ones. Then, I need you to go into the kitchen, through that archway there, and get a bottle of water out of the fridge. And no, the fridge doesn't work, I just use it for storage."

[Assistant]
She nodded softly and rushed to the bathroom. She snatched a washcloth like it was the holy grail, then sped into the kitchen like a cheetah on meth, tore open the refrigerator and grabbed a water bottle. Not pausing to consider anything, she returned to the living room. Or the dying room. She didn't know. Mattie thrust the items toward Jacob and tapped a foot on the ground nervously. She didn't want Nicholas to be killed, but if it had to happen, she really didn't want to witness it.

"Do you have, um, drinks?" she muttered. One thing was sure. If Nicholas was going to die, she was going to drink away the grief. Why she knew she'd grieve, she didn't know. After all they had just met. But she felt sure that they were friends. Who the hell gets a friend for one day and then dies? That was fucked up.

"Stupid fucking sage burning piece of shit," she hissed, referring to the former hippie who had bitten Nicholas.

[User]
"All out of booze, if that's what you're asking," Jacob said lowly, proceeding to soak the wash cloth like he'd done the one earlier. He put it on Nicholas' forehead - common thing to do when someone has a fever.

"Hey Nicky," he said. "Stop closing your eyes."

"I can't," Nicholas moaned. "It feels like the water in my eyes is melting."

He was babbling, talking nonsense. He continued, "My tears are so ho-ot."

"That's 'cause you've got a fever, man, calm down," Jacob kept his voice steady, trying to remain as calm as he could be. To be honest, he'd love to just put a bullet in the boy's head and burn the body, making sure that neither he, nor Mattie, nor the baby got infected because of Nicholas.

After a moment of consideration, Jacob dismissed the question of sexuality and grabbed Nicholas' hand, rolling it between his two. "Can you feel that, Nick?"

"Yeah," he whispered.

"Good, that means you still got the feeling in your body. You know what that means?"

"Wh-What?"

Jacob lightly tapped Nicholas on the head and chuckled briefly, "That means you're not a zombie yet, brother."

"Y-Yet," Nicholas moaned.

Shaking his head, Jacob tore the covers off of Nicholas, who hissed at the feeling of cold air. His whole body was shaking, yet his neck had started to form beads of sweat rolling down.

"I'm c-cold," Nicholas told him, but Jacob ignored him.

After folding up the blanket and putting it to the side, making a note to wash it later, Jacob turned to Mattie and said, "You know, it just occurred to me that the first thing we should have done was get all of the blood off of him." He put his hands on his hips and said, "That's probably how he's infected."

"I'm cold!" he repeated, more urgently this time.

"Hush. Your body is burning up, okay? Blankets aren't going to do you any good right now."

Nicholas' whole body shook, and he continuously wiggled around on the couch, obviously uncomfortable.

[Assistant]
"Out of booze," Mattie echoed grimly. This made the situation really dire. "Shit." She observed the events in front of her unfold in near-complete silence. Everything was crumbling in front of her. Leave the baby. Leave Nicholas. Leave Jacob. Find some supplies and hole up a while. She fought the commanding voice in her head, hating that it was her own thought. She couldn't go. They needed her.

For what? Changing Cole's diapers? Repopulating the planet? Like hell. Maybe once he dies. I'll slip away in the night. No no no, she couldn't think like that. Stop it!

The nail had really hit home now. Mattie had allowed this to happen. Mattie had let down two brothers and a friend. Stop. Think.

"Maybe we should tie him up. In case...you know. And cover his mouth." It seemed so barbaric, but right now Nicholas' saliva was probably brimming with infection. Ready to jump into whoever's flesh his teeth tore into. She sifted through the backpacks for rope and found a length enough for his wrists. Forgive me.

She approached him like a rabid animal: slowly, carefully, no sudden movements. His eyes were still Nicholas, still human, but Mattie was scared. Any minute he could foam at the mouth and chomp-chomp.

[User]
Jacob wasn't sure about Mattie's ideas, but he stepped aside. She had survive long enough, just as long as he had, so she probably knew what she was doing. Just in case, he stood close by. The baby in the chair began to wail, and Jacob went over to it and scooped him up in his arms. He held the baby over his shoulder and patted its back, bouncing him as he did so.

"Shhh," he told it. "You're okay."

---

Nicholas turned his head to look at Mattie. His neck was stiff and hurting. Everything was hurting. Everything was so hot. It was so hot it was almost as if his vision was red. It was cloudy. He just wanted it to go away. He didn't want to die - if he did, he would have just let Jacob shoot him. But he didn't want to. He wanted to stay. For Mattie.

"I'm fine!" he choked out as she approached him. "P-Please, don't hurt me! Don't kill me! Please!" he was shouting now, desperate. "I'm g-going to be okay!"

[Assistant]
"Nicholas," Mattie cooed in an attempt to reassure him. She was actually frightened to death, but stubborn as a mule, she explained, "We know you're fine. I'm not going to hurt you, okay? It's just a...a precaution, in case things get messy. She took his hand and....oh. She'd forgotten that he only had one arm now. Awkward. But it saved rope. "Stay still, okay? I'm not going to hurt you." She spoke slowly and articulated everything more than usual, like she was speaking to a sick dog from another country.

Step. Step. She tied his ankles together, tightly but hopefully not circulation stopping. He'd lost enough appendages today. "How does that feel? Is it snug?" She hated to talk to him like this, but she didn't know what the fever could be doing to his brain.

[User]
"Y-Yeah," Nicholas said, shivering. He reached around for a blanket and found none. He was so frustrated. He couldn't hug himself to warm himself up because his only hand one arm, and there were no blankets around - there was nothing. And at the same time everything was so hot. He shook his head violently, but soon stopped because it made his head hurt.

"My eyes are melting," he moaned. "M-My eyes are melting."

[Assistant]
Mattie wished there was ice on hand. A generator would be a really damn nice thing to have on hand right now, so that the freezer would be powered. But no generator. So work with what you've got. She doused the cloth with fresh water, not exactly cold but colder than the stuff that had rapidly warmed against Nicholas' forehead. She backed up, reached into the backpack and dug. One more rope, perfect. She swallowed and went back to him.

"You're not going to like this," she said softly, "but you're going to have to roll with it, okay? Just be still." It sounded a lot nicer than "I'm going to gag you, so don't move." Then she moved quickly to avoid resistance. The rope was tight between his teeth. She tied deftly and took a deep breath. There, now nothing could spread via bite. "I'm sorry, Nicholas, but it's better than killing you. It's just until you feel better." If you feel better. Stupid negative thoughts.


[System]
Chapter: Unknown.

Chapter Demeanour: Unknown.

Personal Demeanour: The Astartes now known only as Sorrow is quite clearly haunted by his past and now seeks to redeem himself through serving the Deathwatch as a Black Shield. He has stripped his ancient power armor of all marks of his Chapter and leads an existence free from all of the pleasures in life. Outside of combat, Sorrow subjects himself to long hours of prayer, meditation and a grueling training regime that would make even most other Astartes balk at the prospect. He does not shy away from contact or conversation with the brothers of his Kill-team, but Sorrow absolutely refuses to speak about his origins, Chapter or true name. Other than that, he is polite and soft-spoken and very rarely speaks ill of a fellow Astartes. He is prone to moods of somberness and melancholy and declines any praise or compliments that might be directed his way, insisting that he is merely a tool for the Emperor's will and nothing more.

In combat, Sorrow fights with total disregard for his own life, gladly sprinting into the line of fire to save a fallen brother or standing face-to-face with a heinous xenos monstrosity. An honorable death would be the easiest way to find absolution but Sorrow does recognize that it would have to be a good death, not a pointless one, so he is not entirely suicidal. One thing is certain; Sorrow will never wear the livery of his Chapter once more.

Speciality: Tactical.

Rank: Battle-Brother (Black Shield).

Power Armour History: It is an entirely unremarkable suit of Mark VII power armor, the most common variant in use by the Astartes at the start of the 42nd millenium. Its fresh coat of black paint cannot obscure the fact that is dented, pitted and otherwise marred in many places but Sorrow refuses any repairs or replacement parts. It functions reasonably well, though the mechanism of the joint of his left elbow has a habit of jamming in the midst of combat. Sorrow has not divulged any of the armor's history, if he even knows it, but the fact that is Mark VII means that it is unlikely to be very old.

Description: Beneath the plates of his power armor, Sorrow is a gruesome sight to behold. Most of the flesh of his face has been seared away, the remnants fused together beneath a shiny layer of fresh skin. Especially the left side of his lower jaw was severely disfigured to the point where the white bone is visible, and his (fortunately unharmed) eyes are surrounded by thick scar tissue. Sorrow refuses skin-grafts or reconstructive surgery as a matter of principle and considers the hideousness of his visage to be a poignant reminder of the sins he has come to repent for. His physique is neither short or tall for an Astartes and Sorrow is just as muscular as can be expected from the average Battle-Brother.

As for his armor, the whole suit of Mark VII is deep black (save for the silver left pauldron), as is Deathwatch custom, but highly irregular is that this extends even to his right pauldron. That is normally reserved for the sacred heraldry of the Marine's Chapter, but Sorrow has struck that sigil from the pauldron and painted it entirely black. This Black Shield immediately sets him apart from the other members of his Kill-team at first glance.

Skills: As a Tactical Marine, Sorrow possesses a flexible skillset. He hasn't specialized in any particular combat doctrine and is equally capable up close or at range, but he is outclassed in both styles by specialist Devastator Marines with heavy weapons or Assault Marines with chainswords. That said, Sorrow is a crack shot with the standard Astartes Mark Vb Godwyn Pattern bolter and Mark II Ragefire Pattern plasma rifle and is at his most dangerous from medium distance. He also knows how to drive and operate various Astartes land vehicles like Rhinos, Assault Bikes and Land Raiders.

History: All that is known of Sorrow's history is the story he submitted to the Master of the Vigil when he arrived at the Deathwatch fortress. He came to them alone, the sole occupant of a limping freighter vessel, his damaged power armor sandblasted clean of any paint, revealing the gunmetal gray of the adamantium beneath. No Chapter sigil was present on his pauldrons, nor any markings of rank or specialization. All that he carried was a battered bolter and a single frak grenade.

When asked for his name, the Astartes declined to provide one, and instead insisted he was no one. When asked for a Chapter, the Astartes once again refused to answer, claiming he belonged to no Chapter. Not anymore. When asked for his story, the Marine sat down and removed his helmet, revealing the horrifyingly scarred and twisted face beneath. He took a deep breath, and spoke.

Once, not too long ago, the Astartes had belonged to a Chapter. It was a proud one, charged with an important task, and demanded the respect and reverence of the population of the Imperium they protected. One amongst their numbers fell prey to hubris, however, and resisted the will of the Imperium. When asked why, the Astartes refused to answer and remained as vague as possible. He said that they were all blinded by the lies and their own arrogance. To his disgust, the Astartes saw brother after brother turn away from the Emperor's light. The Astartes sitting before the Master of the Vigil said that he resisted, trying to undo the damage, but they would not listen. Eventually he and his brothers came to blows -- a terrible battle in which he nearly perished, the Astartes said, pointing to the wreckage of his face. He escaped aboard a space ship and became adrift for years, which is when he entered a Sus-an Membrane-induced stasis. Explorators woke him when the ship was found. The Astartes refused to clarify how long he had been in stasis, or indeed to provide any kind of timeframe for his story.

The Astartes paused for a long time, the air of the dark chamber heavy with tension. The Astartes continued, saying he eventually learned that justice had been metered out to his Chapter, though he declined to go into details. He said that, with nowhere left to go, he would strip himself of his rank, name and Chapter and submit himself to the Emperor's service in the only way that was now left to him; the Deathwatch. Perhaps, he said, voice full of melancholy, he could find some atonement for the sins of his erstwhile brothers here.

The Master of the Vigil nodded once, curtly, gave the Astartes a new designation out of respect for the warrior's tale, and promised him it would not be repeated to any other members of the Deathwatch. Now his Long Vigil begins as the anonymous Sorrow.

Equipment and Armament: An old and heavily-used Mark Vb Godwyn Pattern bolter, frak & krak grenades, and combat knife.

Miscellaneous: The secrets that Sorrow keeps have been submitted to our GM as part of this CS.

[User]
The impact was relatively cushy as the Caestus rammed into the side of the Dark Eldar raiders' lead ship. Aldaric waited impatiently as the mechanical countdown finished and the doors dropped open to form a heavy ramp onto the floor of an empty lower corridor in the abhorrent xenos' vessel. Heartening words rang over the killteam's vox communicators. Fear however, was not a problem. They had their orders, which were to rapidly ascend to the bridge and dispatch the raiding party's leadership, thus routing the rest of the foolish Dark Eldar who had unwittingly attacked the Imperium's specialized xeno-hunting taskforce mid-space. Educating these xeno scum would be most satisfying indeed.

The killteam that had been sent to this task however, was nacent. The Deathwatch captain was present in communication only, having said nothing of individual responsibilities in the field or provided any hint of on-the-ground organization or tactics. They were all equal now, brothers, and they had to figure this one out on their own.

Aldaric found the lack of immediate clarity in what their individual actions were to be irritating, but there was no time to get to know each other. Quickly, even before they made contact, he considered each of their chosen armaments and began to rationalize their best use based on that and what little he knew of his new teammates. It was a roll of the dice how any of this was about to go.

Draskal had already stepped out to investigate the corridor when Aldaric's suspensory device finally released him. Once freed, the impatient former captain immediately went to work on what he saw was their greatest problem at the moment, the lack of a plan.

"We're clear." Stated the space marine who was more machine than man.

Aldaric noted the floating familiar by his side which he had used to safely enhance his sight. Drascal also had ranged weapons, which would be far more useful on the inside of a spacecraft than his missle launcher, more than likely. A quick glance around spotted a stormshield, carried by Victor Ironmarch, certainly a most useful bulwark. There was Sirren with a mighty chainsword, Zaphiel with a combi-flamer, and Kurt with his much lighter armor and potential vulnerability.

Aldaric's brow furrowed seriously above his mechanical left eye as he scrutinized. The team's hesitation was killing him, the moment of quiet was an inferno of infuriation. Finally, unable to stand for it any longer, he simply, acted. Holding his own sniper bolter at the ready, he turn to those he named specifically. "Victor. Drascal. I want you two to take point. Find their bridge. Sorrow, you're behind them to provide cover as needed. As soon as we clear an area, Draskal can blow up the next door so we can move in..."

Aldaric didn't bother with apologies or any statements of the obvious. He simply did what he had always done. It was his job, his role, and he expected no recognition for it. There was a gap that needed to be filled, and he simply provided the spackle. He had no idea whether or not he would be heeded, or hated, but he went on regardless. "We will be moving fast, so Kurtis, I need you specifically to call 'in-back' if anything pursues us from that direction. As for the rest of us, do what you do best and eliminate all hostiles." Aldaric knew that only experience would show each of their strengths and weaknesses. He primed his weapon and began moving down the left hall, letting the anger at his enemies fill his heart and drive his resolve. "We rally on Zaphiel if we get separated, so keep track of him at all times. Speed is of the essence brothers. Let us show these xenos how a proper assault is conducted."

There was no rational for sneaking around. This would be a guns-blazing, blitzkrieg assault, one that the enemy was hopefully completely unprepared for.

[Assistant]
The orders to prepare for boarding actions had been rather unexpected, but were not altogether unwelcome. Zaphiel had been eagerly awaiting to unleash the Emperor's Fury upon heretical Xenos, but he was certainly not expecting an encounter with the Dark Eldar, especially given the nature of their vessel in question. Ultimately he chalked it up to Xeno incompetence inherent within their races, and prepared for action.

The Caestus Assault Ram was filled to the brim with members of the greenhorn Kill-Team. Zaphiel rested his bolter across his legs, the dim glow of his Rosarius power field emitting blue light across the interior of the small vessel. Zaphiel held the religious charm in one hand, offering a prayer to the God-Emperor, asking for protection and strength to be granted to them all in the coming battle. Though not many chapters viewed the Emperor as a holy figure of worship, Zaphiel spoke this prayer out loud, hoping that at the very least, thoughts of the Emperor would ease any tension in the mind of his Battle-Brothers.

As the doors to the Assault Ram hissed open, and Drascal moved to secure the immediate area, Zaphiel did one last quick check of his weaponry, before preparing to disembark with the others. Aldaric seized the opportunity to take command of the situation, which was a commendable act, given the lack of any real command structure as of yet, and so Zaphiel had no qualms about following his orders.

"Victor. Drascal. I want you two to take point. Find their bridge. Sorrow, you're behind them to provide cover as needed. As soon as we clear an area, Draskal can blow up the next door so we can move in... "We will be moving fast, so Kurtis, I need you specifically to call 'in-back' if anything pursues us from that direction. As for the rest of us, do what you do best and eliminate all hostiles. "We rally on Zaphiel if we get separated, so keep track of him at all times. Speed is of the essence brothers. Let us show these xenos how a proper assault is conducted."

As Aldaric finished speaking, Zaphiel spoke with a firm "Acknowledged." to confirm his willingness to accept the current structure of the unit. Stepping out into the Xenos ship with the others, Zaphiel took his place in the formation, eager to begin his Emperor-given task.

[User]
Victar was quick to exit the pod holding the team and board the ship they had been ordered to purge. Finding the helm would be difficult, given that he was particularly unfamiliar with the ships design and layout, but those were things you learned by experiencing them firsthand. Stormshield in his left, boltor pistol in his right, he took up positon in front of the nearest doorway as the other members of the squad exited. In tight quarters, his jump pack would be detrimental, but perhaps there would be a proper time and place for it. For now it was simply a reassuring weight strapped to his back.

Glancing over at Draksal as the order was given for the two to take point, Victar nodded and kept his shield up and at the ready.

"Understood." Was all he said. When the others were ready, he would march forward. The glory of first blood would be his.

[Assistant]
Sorrow had taken place in his solitary seat without comment or complaint. It was his burden to be a Blackshield and he would carry it silently, even if it hurt to be deliberately separated from his new companions. Memories of previous boarding actions and scenes of combat with his former Chapter flitted through his mind's eye and Sorrow grasped the grip of his bolter tightly. It was an ancient specimen, the least advanced and prestigious of such weapons he had been able to find in the Deathwatch's armory. It would not do to fulfill his journey of penance with artificer gear.

As the boarding ramp opened and his battle-brothers disembarked, Sorrow turned to heed Aldaric's orders immediately. The FFI systems inside his helmet identified his fellows with small nametags that popped up on his HUD, and Sorrow positioned himself to be behind Victar and Draksal, bolter at the ready. He found himself standing next to the Chaplain, Zaphiel. The religious fervor of the Black Templars was a little alien to Sorrow, but he had begun to understand lately that it was comforting to place one's trust in the higher power of the God-Emperor... and, perhaps, a chance for salvation in whatever waited for him beyond the veil of death.

"Acknowledged and in position. The Emperor protects," Sorrow whispered over the squad's vox-comms.


[System]
Essential NPCs

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Military

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Killers' Associate

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Serpent's Lair
Age : Don't you know not to ask a woman her age?
Occupation : Owner of the Serpent's Lair

Background : Mother died at birth and she was raised by a single father who worked on the shipyard at the Docks. Lived between the Slums and the Lower District most of her life, however has done some traveling beyond No Name but has always come back. Opened the Serpent's Lair around the Docks decades ago to never forget whence she came, and has been tending to it ever since. Two years ago she hired a young woman named Andria to help her around the inn in exchange for use of her garage to do mechanic work. Since Andria's been hired Mabel runs the night/graveyard shift at the Inn (6-6am) as this when most of the undesirable characters come around. A very tough woman who doesn't take any shit. Keeps a loaded shotgun behind the counter of the bar on the main floor of the inn and a revolver on her hip. A mother to and respected by many in the community, as she's always looking out for those in need. Not terribly fond of outsiders but doesn't mind taking their money. Good friends with Sloth the Dealer.

[User]
the first chapter of an original story: Urban Creatures

---

Current week: [Nov 1, 2017 - Nov 7, 2017]

[Assistant]
Sloth the Dealer, Nov 1, 2017 - 9th Street in the Slums of No Name , approximately 9am

"and stay the fuck outta my sight, if I ever see you around here again I'll make sure you are pulled apart piece by piece you slimy piece of degenerate shit fuck!"

wide-eyed with fear the sunken face man ran off tripping over his own feet , struggling to keep his balance gasping for breath after being on the receiving end of a deafening stomp to his chest cavity that surly cracked a couple of ribs.

"junkie piece of shit tried to rob me, me?" laughing to himself, "obviously he didn't know who the fuck he was dealing with. prick's lucky I didn't stab em, cuz betty's been lonely.." he trailed off, thumbing the handle of a black blade tucked in his waistband.

when suddenly he erupted into a series of violent coughs that reverberated his entire being causing him to double over, bringing a dark cloth from his pocket he covered his masked mouth, attempting deep breaths through his nose to calm down. Finally he was able to bring his breathing to a steady rhythm, "fucking bullshit" he muttered in between now short controlled breaths. "lung bullshit"

*bzzzz* the pager adorning his waist vibrated, he looked down at the green retro screen of what was now considered ancient technology. the poorly illuminated device read "1 o clock lunch" in fading LED.

1 o clock lunch .. today we'd be going down to the docks to pay someone a much needed visit. I'll head over to the Market District and grab a newspaper while I wait. See what bullshit they've come up with today.

Sloth walked in the direction of the Market District, passing a line of drug addicts slumped together on the wall of a degrading building. Obviously burned out from the evening before.

"Ahh, I love the smell of the Slums in the morning" he said sarcastically turning his head to the left, letting out a sigh. "fucking pussies" he crumpled up a $10 euro note and threw it at the feet of the three bums."go get some food you fucking degenerates" they dropped to their knees and crawled towards the wad of cash, clawing at one another to get their hands on the paper treasure. Sloth rolled his eyes behind his mask and tilted his head back looking up at the bleak sky accented with it's perpetual red haze.

"How am I going to help fix this fucked up hell hole?"

He continued walking towards the market district. Relaxed but focused on the task at hand. Today was important.

"Corrupt Bitch." Sloth grumbled to himself flinging the newspaper on the ground next to the bench where he was sitting near the Market District newsstand. The headline read "Mayor Jess Declares No Name City's Upper District, the Safest Place on Earth"
"Safest Place on Earth my ass, who the fuck comes up with this bullshit?"
"If anyone belie- but right as he was getting into his audienceless rant his Sujo brother appeared in his peripheals and gave a signal.

Right, no bitchin', it was time. Standing up Sloth headed off in the direction of the Docks, someone was owed a visit.

[User] -delete this-

[Assistant]
Andria looked up at the ticking clock on the wall. Sighing, she stood up from her work in the building's garage. Looking around, the young woman began to wipe grease and oil from her hands. Cleaning up the tools she had lying around, Drake made sure that her workplace was left in a clean and neat state. The half-built car that stood in the middle of the garage looked out at her solemnly. Drake had been working on the car for nearly several months now. Ever since she arrived at No Name.

Letting the rag in her hands fall onto an empty table, Drake walked up the stairs into the inn proper. The inn was called The Serpent's Lair, but was more commonly known as the Den in the docks of No Name. The inn was three stories tall. On the bottom story was the pub, kitchen, and garage. The second floor was the guest rooms and the top floor was Drake's living quarters.

Sighing, Drake walked up to the front door. Looking out, she watched as the sun peeked up over the horizon. Flipping the sign that hung in the window to 'OPEN' Drake turned back around. Reaching up behind her head, the woman tied her hair back into a ponytail. Walking up to the stairs she pulled on a rope. A loud thump was heard afterwards, followed by the quick pattering of feet. Paying no mind to the sounds, Drake pulled out a notebook from behind the counter. In it was design after design after design. They were all of different pieces of the car that sat in the garage.

Suddenly, a small, wiry frame came tumbling down the stairs. Tripping, the young boy face-planted the ground. Though, it couldn't have been too hard as he bolted upright with a stupid grin on his face. "Hey, Eric! Stop fooling around and get to those dishes from last night." Drake yelled out to the boy, patting the top of his head as he passed. His thick brown hair was a mess this morning, as it always was.

Drake had met the boy over a year ago in the slums. He had decided to pick her pocket, which was a bad decision for him. However, Drake had always had a soft spot for children and instead took the nine-year old in. When she opened up the inn a year ago, he quickly became her number one, if only, employee.

Roused from her thoughts, Drake's attention turned towards the door as the bell rung. The cold morning breeze wafted into the building as a figure stood, silhouetted , in the doorway.

[User]
Ronan sat in his usual alley, chewing on a toothpick. He had seen those beggars go after a 10 euro after a not so happy looking man threw it at them. He would take it. To him, at this point, it didn't matter about the money. What mattered was the image. He needed people to be scared of him. To throw what he asked for at his feet, terror in their eyes. He would let them keep the money for now. He wanted them to be happy with themselves. Only so that he could take that happiness and smash it into the ground. Ronan might even come back later and rip whatever they had bought with it, probably food, out of their hands. Those two weren't aware of the danger lurking right next to them. For all they knew, he was probably a drug dealer, if anything. He was too well dressed to be much of anything else. Either that or he was a rich person screwing around in the wrong place.

Ronan decided he would let them keep the euro, for now anyway. Hell, he might even let them have it. That is, if he felt the same when he came back to visit the pair. He pushed himself off the wall and made his way to the market. His sister still lived with him, and he still felt a personal responsibility to feed her. She probably wanted soup now that the weather was getting colder. Ronan supposed he would make soup, but in order to do that, he had to go to the market and buy the ingredients.

"Such a chore," Ronan mumbled to himself as he walked away from the alley and into the bright afternoon. The sky was gray, the way he liked it. Soon it would snow. The world would be dark and dead. He preferred the winter over the summer. All of the flowers, bright colors and bright lights were almost always too much for him. And the bugs. Ronan wished all the bugs either left him alone or died off completely, but the rational part of his mind knew that the latter would be impossible without huge environmental impacts. Not that he cared much for the environment, of course.

[Assistant]
Date: Nov 1, 2017.

Available contracts:

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[System]
Kato is the gray haired boy, Kakra is the blonde girl.

Age: 17

Grade: Second

Biography:
Twins born with powerful blessings from twin gods: Mundas and Celestial. Uniquely, their powers could combine to a degree to be even stronger... but their parents were foolish. At the age of 10, they were cursed by a witch after their parents reneged on a bad deal. The twins were fused together, a large portion of Kato's powers being sealed inside of Kakra... and Kakra was sealed within Kato. Only when on death's door may Kato free Kakra, but if she stays out for too long, the imbalanced powers will caused her to go into meltdown.

Therefore, she must use her powers to heal Kato before it's too late, but in doing so seals herself away.

It's an extremely uncomfortable existence for both of them, as Kakra was always the more dominant personality -- to say nothing of the requirements of Kakra gaining even temporary freedom.

Kato spends much of his time quietly reading, usually occult books trying to find a cure for their situation. Various power users have tried to help them over the years, but so far no one has had a powerful enough ability to counteract the curse.

Suffice it to say, they're also not on good terms with their parents.

Powers:
Core: Sun/Moon Flower
Kakra gains significant power in broad daylight, and vice-verse for Kato at night, and more so under the moon. This manifests as a shimmering field around their bodies that protects them and makes them physically more adept, but if the field is damaged they lose all their strength until they recharge for a short time. While normally their power would be limited only by the length of day and night, due to the curse, even under the moon Kato is weaker than Kakra would be even on a cloudy day, though still slightly stronger than an average person, while Kakra is limited by the impending threat of a meltdown.

First: Overgrow/Shroud
Kakra overcharges herself, gaining absurd healing and increasing strength overtime. She can shed this energy and gift it to others, healing them and reinforcing them, but loses the effect on herself. / Kato creates a null-zone that blocks light and saps the strength of those inside, giving it to himself.

Second: Starburst/Bloom
Kakra creates a small star that grows, becoming blindingly bright and then exploding after a few minutes. This feeds back into Overgrow. She can direct it like a missile when it's ready to burst, or just set it off early. / Kato summons a ring of eight moonflowers, creating a safe zone for all those inside it. Only people he welcomes in can enter it. The flowers slowly shut one per minute until the circle fails. The barrier can be overwhelmed, and weakens slightly as each flower shuts. Is nearly impregnable at full power, however.

Third: Mixer/Eclipse
Kakra can possess Kato to speak for him, but to take control Kato must be effectively dead. When she takes control, she will go into meltdown after about fifteen minutes, but can use altered versions Kato's powers while she is in full control.
Enshroud = Celestial Cloak: She enshrouds another in sunny energy, effectively granting them a reduced but still quite powerful form of Overgrow. She also gains a small portion of the solar energy that person absorbs, further increasing her own growth.
Bloom = Sun Blossoms: She summons a sunflower where she touches. It blooms over the course of a minute and then releasing a fully charged Starburst. She can plant them one at a time, up to only four, and in fairly quick succession.

Eclipse: Kakra can create a singularity that adsorbs sunlight and projects a dark space for Kato. Similarly, Kato can absorb moonlight and then release an orb that acts like a small sun for a short time. This was a much stronger ability when both were free to move at the same time, obviously...

Relationships:
(Assuming it's known publicly to some degree)
Alicia: They've heard she's a witch. Pretty sure she has nothing to do with their problem, but they still kinda dislike her on principle.

[User]
Nidgardt

His initial conversation with Alicia had caused some others to take notice. He had been waylaid and now had to do something about it. Appearantly the loud girl with the rumbling stomach was drawing the lot over. Someone even watching from a bench outside of the classroom.

Good grief...

He thought to himself before turning to Sasha, the girl which was speaking of justice, Ioincloths and by the sounds of it eating. After she had finished talking, Alicia replied. But not only that she exposed her undergarments for all in the radius to behold yet again. It was almost as indeed she wanted attention to be drawn to them, the demondragon took note of them however. They were of black lace by the looks of it. Nidgardt thus came to remember the various kind of succubus types that was working for his father. Most of them did however not wear any garments at all, yet there was a common theme going on. Black cloth.

He had to admit it was not the worst choice in fashion, he wore it himself. Since the more natural colors like green, brown and grey always made him look more monsterous than he was. Then ofcourse there were colors which would never had fitted at all with him, like yellow, purple, blue or pink. Red? No. It was overly common among those whom submit themselves fully to evil causes, generally accompanied by black.

Sasha was speaking of being a crusader of light. Perhaps she too could be useful aswell? A matter he had to look into after his buisness with Alicia was concluded.

But back to the subject at hand. Not the girl's undergarments but the potential of recruiting her for the future Zarkov team. Alicia seemingly refered to him as 'Dragon boy'. It wasn't the first time he heard it, but few dared to say it in the manner she did. Then again she was feared herself. It wasn't untrue, he was draconic, but it was just a part of him.

What the young witch desired was money, and quite a large amount of it, that or being able to meet someone which had it. Nidgardt, whom had draconic blood recoiled abit to it. Out of raw instinct, not that he actually cared about money that much. But his dragon half was screaming in rage at the very notion, one of the most precious things to a dragon is their hoard of treasure. One which they would very seldom share anything from.

Such was the case with his father's vast fortune, enough so that he did very seldom leave his hoard unattended. The times he did, he had placed strong traps around it. And even then, was surely not far away. Just to make sure no one would dare put a finger on a single coin.
But there was just no way the demondragon could hope to pay Alicia for her co-operation, it was just an amount beyond his resources. That's when he felt a flinch from his demonic nature.

He could go with her second plan. He could give her access to meet someone whom is really rich and alone. He could arrange a meeting between her and his father, a being whom was surely beyond her influence. That was he could keep his part of the deal, while not losing anything. The very idea made him want to smirk, but he restrained himself. He didn't take any real pleasure in exploiting others, but in this case he needed members and this girl was by the looks of it very prone to try exploit others.

Nidgardt ponder on it for awhile. It could serve as a lesson for her, to not make deals with demons. Or part demons. And show restraint and humbleness. He finally decided to agree to her second offer.

"I will give you access to meet someone really rich in a one on one meeting, without any bodyguards. But only after the inter-area tournament. I would hate you to not feel motivated to win. Do we have a deal?" He said in a calm manner, as if he had worked it out in his head prior to opening his mouth.

"Not to mention there is usually a prize for attaining victory." He added as a bonus, he wasn't that interested in the prizes himself. He just wanted to advance and challenge alot of different people, to become stronger and watch as others became aswell. The only way to attain a peaceful and lasting future is by understanding and respect. This was what the fights would surely bring.

The demondragon took a couple of steps forwards and reached out his non-monstrous hand to close the deal with Alicia. She was prideful indeed, if she was to advance further on she would have to experience loss. Something she would remember. Nidgardt considered the options and decided on asking her for a deal she couldn't say no to.

"I wish to test your capabilities if they are as strong as the rumors go. Let us make it more interesting shall we? If you win, you can order me around for a week. If I win I can order you around for a week. Ofcourse the exception to this is breaking the Yekaterina laws and binding someone for a longer time. So no contracts, offering of blood or the like. What say you?"

If she wins she wins, I get to become more humble while learning more about her powers. If I win. Then she is going to become more humble. A win-win. He thought to himself.

[Assistant]
Alicia

---

To her surprise, dragon boy actually agreed with her condition. He would only give the chance of a meeting though, not the actual money itself. And he told her he would grant her condition after the inter-area tournament.

Hmm, perhaps she should ask for more details first.

"So, who's this rich person you have access to?" she asked him. "I don't imagine you to be the type that has an influence amongst the upper class."

"The prize, I do not care for. I have no need for a paltry sum of money or some meaningless trophy."

"And as for 'testing my capabilities', I shall remind you that I'm not a fighter in the slightest. If you were to punch me, you would probably knock me out in one hit. My expertise lies outside of combat. I would curse your opponents, preventing them from even appearing at all in the arena. Maybe give them a stomachache. Or, make them wake up late. And if you want something more extreme, I'll have them get caught in an accident that would cripple them to the hospital bed for a good while."

She recited all that with a gleeful look on her face. Here was someone who didn't hesitate playing dirty in the slightest.

[User]
Aegus Reister

---

---

 Aegus raised his eyebrows. A tournament, hmm? He had never been in one, but he had heard of them. And he had nothing else to do - he was smart enough to not attend class - who needed to go to a financial math class when you were in a wealth class of your own? In any case, the proposition of a tournament intrigued him.

He stood up from where he had been eavesdropping outside of the room, while tossing the remnants of his icecream in the trash, and casually strolling over to the door, leaning against the frame of it - directly behind Kato.

"A tournament, you say? he interrupted. "If you less fortunate folk need a sponsor, or perhaps a power-player, I may be your gentleman." he said as he adjusted his canvas gloves, while looking directly at Nidgardt. Despite the fact that the white-haired boy was noticeably shorter than the Foul-breed, his gaze still implied that he was looking down on him. The group as a whole, even.

"I expect no material rewards, of course, you people can keep what gains they award - no, what I want is entertainment. Perhaps Glory - as I already have fame." Well, at least that's how he saw himself - partially famous. Though he wasn't. Most people at the school who had seen what he was outwardly like during his short time here - would likey only see him as the "snobby asshole exchange student".

However, his real motives - while they were somewhat influenced by his own need for entertainment - were to get his parents to notice what he could accomplish without his money. If they thought he didn't need it, they would give it back.

But in Aegus' eyes, he very much did need it.

[Assistant]
Sasha

---

The two dark ones continued in their dark covenant, the she-witch having the gall to thank Sasha in a condescending tone that was much more evil than stealing candy from children. And yet, the Crusader knew that the work was laid before her. There was a tortured soul in front of her, seeking redemption. A most wroth curse indeed, judging by the erratic gestures and the eyes changing colours all the time. He did look like that snake from that Selvatic Book or whatever. It was a peasant movie to be fair.

So she clacked her heel, standing tall (well... the most she could, she was still a young noblewoman, after all) in front of the supplicant."It would seem heartless to just force your punishment upon you given the urgency of your situation. I am one of the Yenin, and I say curses before lunch. But do not think you will be exempted of your debts." Sasha said, as she undid her gloves, and with the clap of thunder, squished Kato's cheeks, as her hands started to glow with her healing light.

"CURSE, BE GONE!" She announced out loud. Well, this time her stomach didn't ruin it with inopportune growling.


[System]
Age: 40.
Race: Ogre.

Appearance:

Ugroth stands at 11'5" slightly above average for members of his settlement and weighs in at a hefty 700lbs. He also wears a large, thick fur pelt from one of his former companion, a rather powerful bear, as a token of remembrance but also for comfort in particularly cold areas.

Personality: Ugroth for the most part is quite a stoic character not much for getting worked up over much unless its quite serious or something he is passionate about. He maintains an intelligence slightly above the average human commoner, quite the feat for an ogre but not unheard of, which often tends to surprise some of the other races he meets. He tends towards patience and restraint rather than brutish violence though he is more than capable of providing it in spades when the need arises. Being as large as he is the ogre is rather considerate when possible to the smaller or weaker races though he doesn't underestimate they're abilities to do good or bad towards him or his kind.

Abilities: Ugroth is a keen hunter of the northern mountains, tundra/boreal forest, and the snowy wastes though he has hunted elsewhere. His good vision and patience allows him to wait for an opportune moment to strike rather than a hasty attack which is quite the benefit when the prey is often more than capable of defending themselves from equally dangerous natural predators. He is well practiced in the use of both manufactured and improvised projectiles for hunting as well as war purposes if need be showing great skill for an ogre in such matters. For long trips into the wilderness he learned the woodsman's craft for surviving in the harsh terrain when in the forests while he has learned over time several other tricks to survive wherever his game does as well. Like all of his race he shares the incredible strength and fortitude that comes with being an ogre though being large hosts many problems of its own.

Salvaged Item: Ugroth kept hold of his simple hunting axe, mostly for chopping wood or the occasional tough boned animal.

Ugroth Moklib was born while the ogres were still roving nomads on a trek north looking for lands to sustain them with less hostilities surrounding them. His father, Lakrogoth, was often quite busy coordinating the band's warriors with his leader and commander but he made time to be with his two sons and daughter when possible where as his mother, Penlithesh, was who the children spent the most time with. He was the younger of the two brothers often having little competitions with his older sibling between learning how to fight, build, or hunt/gather from both parents and other relatives. Working with the animals and hunting seemed to suit the young ogre well though he had much to learn still about the wilds around them. A well known woodsman took Ugroth under his wing as the younger showed more promise teaching him as best he could the lifestyle and the dangers of such a profession but there was no dissuading the up and coming hunter.

He was still rather young during the time of his settlement's namesake leader's reign and was one of the older children sheltered inside of the wagon fort when the battle took place. Both he and his brother took to throwing rocks, javelins, or whatever else could cause harm at the humans and/or dwarves from the safety of the fortification. Whether or not it accomplished much it was an empowering thing join in with some of the elders who did much the same thing with a great deal more skill. Despite the little moment of glory it was a day of grieving for all of them but the honor of they're people was served by the now hero Ogtanash who would leave them to continue the same cause, a note that struck true with Urgoth's older brother who had always wanted to be a renowned warrior like his father and Lugresh. When his father took up the mantle of leader they saw less of each other though he was always given encouragement to do what he wished so long as he did it well and with honor which has colored the younger ogre to this day.

As such he has made it his mission in life to become a master of the wilds among ogres and possibly beyond if he can manage. Up until recently it has seen most of his focus gaining him good name among the ogres for his deeds which has followed him to the other settlements where he decided to travel to in an attempt to learn of the lands and creatures. His father sent him a message of the proposition and there was little chance Ugroth was going to decline the chance to explore a new wilderness so the ogre did the only thing he could do, make the trek to Lezan to meetup with the rest of his fellow travelers and board the Arrowhead for the new land.

Nation of Origin: The Lugresh Settlement.

Nation Lore: The Lugresh ogres have been moving around the continent for a long time in nomadic bands and only in recent years have they begun to settle down, they live an upwards of two to three hundred years though few reach this age and those that do are heavily respected. Some of the individuals or families have taken up residence in the forest or plains, even a small one the fringes of the desert attesting to the group's ability to settle most anywhere given time, the other groups being the Kordash, Mortagash, and Frengal settlements respectively though smaller groups can be found separate from these three. They preferred being on the move as during the wars staying long enough to keep themselves fed often became difficult though unless desperate the group would keep moving for better picking and if not the safety of local towns was not at all guaranteed. There were few qualms about retaliatory attacks against any and all aggressors by the ogre band as a whole with every individual trained to fight from childhood alongside other important tasks. The counter offensives by the large beings tended to leave whole lines of men dead or scattered from the thunderous charge of a couple columns of warriors.

Whether raiding of towns occurred or not often depended on how severe the initiating attack was but the ogres seemed quite proficient at it or even razing whole offending towns. This mentality of self protection from the other races seemed to get the picture across to many that just letting them pass by was far safer than actually attempting a fight with them as if the ogres figured they were being followed they would set up rudimentary but effective traps to convince the pursuers to turn back. They however were not against trade so when the rare deal appeared it was always taken into consideration provided it was an acceptable one for both sides. Ogre laborers and mercenaries could also be found among the other nations in the continent occasionally and though not always looked upon kindly they're usefulness was hard to turn down despite the fee attached to them. They were only involved in one major battle having gotten caught between two armies, one of dwarves and one of humans, over a mountain pass which the dwarves were less than willing to give up. Ogres and humans have rarely gotten along in most cases and the dwarves had yet to make any real opinions of the big folk though they were unknowingly trespassing near a city entrance under an overhanging cliff so it was not something that could be let go.

Lugresh Akorlig was the current and most successful leader of the time had attempted a parley with both sides initially though it was more of a hope than an expectation of actual talking. He assembled the best of his warriors, himself and a couple others clad in full scale armor which was exceedingly rare at the time, prepared themselves for a bloody defense of the most direct route for both opposing forces while the rest defended the sides of the wagon camp which had become akin to a fortification when locked together. There was a great amount of pressure against the ogres but they refused to give ground for a second and Lugresh was thought to have struck down a couple hundred opponents both dwarf and human with his massive war maul fighting as if he was possessed. He and quite a few others fell but the incredible casualties being caused both by the attempts on the ogre encampment as well as fighting between them forced the two smaller races to back down eventually. The band took the time to mourn the dead as the warriors they were before an important ritual took place among them, allowing the great shaman, an ogre with a almost unheard of talent for magic, to inspect all candidates for leadership of the ogre people.

It was not noticed until towards the end of the ceremony that the Lugresh's oldest son Ogtanash went out to both the camps of the human and dwarf forces donning his father's red stained armor and weapon demanding trial by combat for both leaders who refused diplomacy before the battle considering it an insult to his people. He however found that several were involved among the dwarves and humans so he proceeded to challenge them all at once. The ogre felt they had been dishonored by being forced to fight a battle with no hopes of talks beforehand as well as causing the death of his father among other in the process. The dwarven commander refused to sentence his own men to death and went alone to the chosen duel ground declaring if any where to die for his mistake it would be him alone who bore the weight of guilt by fighting to the death, a practice which the ogre is said to have measured many by. The human commander brought all who were involved though he waited until he was the last to face Ogtanash's wrath having stood no chance despite allowing his men to warm up the ogre beforehand. On his return to the encampment he refused all claim to leadership and rather decided to go strike out on his own to do much the same elsewhere, defending the honor of those who could not themselves.

In the absence of the former leader's eldest they looked to his best remaining warriors and one Lakrogoth Moklib, Lugresh's second in command for military matters, was decided upon and his first act was to construct two monuments in concert with the nearby dwarves to never allow themselves to forget what happened. To this day Lugresh's Stand and Ogtanash's Journey remain a permanent fixture as well as a symbol for what became an alliance between the two races despite initial differences. Since then the times of peace were a great boon to the ogres allowing them to settle not so far from allies and friends in the mountains in an area where other races would struggle they thrive hunting and taming great beasts in the north, building the foundation for what could be the first ogre city at The Lugresh Settlement, and making true diplomatic ties with the other races beyond temporary pacts or other less permanent fixtures. They have become the sworn allies of the Dwarves and great friends of the Oni by virtue of being not so different, orcs and their goblin cousins while rough around the edges are accepted equally for the most part, relations with humans and elves are still somewhat shaky at the best of times due to old conflicts though the ogres have no issues with the elves and are known to sympathize with the High Elves knowing full well how difficult being a less populous race is. The ogres were quite willing to send a representative of their own to the new lands as they quite liked the idea of a new mostly unexplored land to settle in and improve relations while doing it. Ugroth being an adventurous ogre with a love of wild untamed lands seemed a perfect fit for the task of representative and he was sent a message telling him where to go from his father who knew there was no chance of him passing it up.
Other: He is mildly upset over the loss of his handmade bow but a bit excited at the prospect of the new land despite the less than favorable situation.

[User]
Thanox had never enjoyed the ride aboard the ship. It was too strange for him, back home he had never seen so much water in one place. At first he was happy to see the water, then he learned that it was undrinkable. After that he decided that he didn't trust the ocean, it was just as deadly as the desert, only he was not as familiar with it. Still, the crew assured him that they could handle any problems that came up and Thanox had believed them.

That is until the waves began to knock the ship around and sweep some of the crew and passengers out into the sea. He had wanted to help, but he knew nothing about ships or what to do in the middle of a storm. So instead he stood there, frozen in indecision as to what he should do. The storm made the decision for him when another large wave crashed onto the deck, taking him out to sea with several others.

Sometime later Thanox slowly opened his eyes. His body ached and he began to cough up that unpleasant water, but he was alive. He groaned as he pushed himself up from the wet sand, some of it still clinging to his body. He looked around, several people had already regained consciousness and were recovering. He recognized most of them, but he had only spoken to a few of them. The fellow hunters Gamie and Ugroth, the warrior Sevita, and the oni Masaru were all there. "Good," Thanox muttered to himslef. "All strong people. They will be needed."

It looked Masaru was headed towards the remains of the ship that had washed up on shore. Thanox slowly began to follow after him. His right leg was aching, but it wasn't anything to bad. He patted the sling on his back to make sure his boomerang was still there and was relieved to find. Things may not have gone according to plan, but they were still alive and he intended to make sure they stayed that way.

[Assistant]
Turk looked at Masaru and Yukine blankly. He guessed they thought the plan changed. The way he saw it, the plan didn't change. Sure, they were shipwrecked and with little supplies. Tired, soaked in water, probably injured. But the people back home were relying on them to do their duty. And it wouldn't do to have the next boat come the end of next year only to find a bunch of lazy globs holed up in a bunch of shacks. No sir, that wouldn't do at all.

That being said, he washungry.
Maybe small steps would have to do for know. He was about to agree, but it seemed the both of them already knew that and had wandered off. Well, wasn't that peachy. He took a deep sigh and rolled his shoulders.

He looked at the ocean again. "Well, I'm ofta get some food." With that he jogged down the beach, over the driftwood, and waded into the water. Eventually, a surf overtook his head and he vanished beneath the waves.