[System]
Age: 18

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Weapon:
Two metal tonfas, Artorius and Gwenhwyfar (formerly Lawnslot). Both are identical, visually, save perhaps a few differences in internal mechanism. In the traditionally held position, the longest part of the body aligning along the forearm, the forward facing post is actually a shotgun barrel; though standard shells are the usual ammunition, dust rounds can be loaded instead. The storage area expands along the spine of the weapon. The recoil is often used for propulsion when useful. The primary length of each tonfa actually has a blade running along it, resembling one half of a sword, to be specific.

This is because both weapons are capable of combining into a large, long sword; Caledfwlch. The two weapons reconfigure in such a way as to create a long, straight two-handed sword with a straight crossguard. The shotgun barrels are reoriented as the crossguard, one pointing to the left and the other to the right, used to enhance the power behind his swings.

Artorius and Gwenhwyfar both have one other unique attribute; high capacity batteries built into their frame. Each battery continuously siphons a supply of Aura from Benjamin, building the energy up so long as they are, in some way, upon his person. This energy can be released with a button built in below the shotguns' triggers, on the handle of the combined blade, or on the handle of the smaller tonfas. The release of this energy usually is used to power his Semblance, and must be replenished over time when discharged.

Joyous Guard
Expansion Calibrated for Ultimate Resistance
B. Lloyd #8 of 7

An expansion device manufactured to work in conjunction with Artorius and Gwenhwyfar. In its default form the Joyous Guard is a tower shield, large and incredibly heavy. Two racks are integrated into its back side for holding the two tonfa when not in use. It can be held in hand, affixed to the forearm (vertically or horizontally) or stored on Benjamin's back. The top and bottom sides taper off into wedges, enabling it to be used as an offensive bludgeoning weapon when affixed horizontally to the forearm. Its connection to the forearm is carefully designed to ensure that both tonfa are compatible in use when the shield is in play, though Joyous Guard is primarily intended for use with Caletfwlch. The shield is manufactured from dense, durable metals, making it even heavier than it looks. For this reason Gravity Dust was used in its construction, making it nearly weightless in Ben's hand. Notably, however, it is Aura-coded to Ben's Aura; in the hands of anyone not on its whitelist, the Gravity Dust reverses and makes it too heavy to be lifted.

Joyous Guard's secondary configuration requires the use of Artorius and Gwenhwyfar. The shield unfolds, incorporating the transformation mechanisms in both tonfa to provide the necessary components for the configuration. Namely they provide part of the edges and part of the hilt of the immense two-handed sword Joyous Guard becomes. The effects of the Dust carry over in this form, ensuring that Ben can swing it almost as easily as he would Caletfwlch. In fact, due to the nature of F=ma, a swing from it will be many times as devastating with a fraction of the effort. Like Caleftwlch, the shotgun barrels incorporated into the hilt aid in granting increased force to its swings.

Finally, in a tertiary configuration, Joyous Guard can convert while affixed to Ben's forearm by splitting down the middle and orienting the magnetic racks used to hold Artorius and Lawnslot along the two horizontal halves. The Lightning Dust used to generate that magnetic field, in this form, cranks into overdrive to turn the shield into a forearm mounted electromagnetic cannon. Slow-firing, but incredibly potent in its offensive power. Artorius and Lawnslot are absolutely necessary for this configuration, as they provide the additional structural stability needed to let Joyous Guard withstand the considerable forces exerted. As a bonus, however, this makes their shotgun barrels useful in this configuration.
Specialty: Benjamin is a highly adaptable fighter. He lacks dedicated defensive capabilities, but his weapons serve very well as augmentation to forearm blocks. The lightweight nature of his weapons, however, also means that he is a highly agile fighter. His preference is to move as quickly as possible, landing strikes when opportunities present themselves and evading blows (blocking if absolutely unavoidable).

Use of both his Semblance and Caledfwlch is exceedingly rare, to the point that they have not yet been used during his career at Beacon. Both are abilities and options he keeps to himself, aces up the sleeve. Ultimately, his style permits him to act as the situation demands, though the drawback to the continuous siphoning of his Aura, as well as his lack of any dedicated defensive tools, is that his personal defenses are noticeably lower than others'.

Semblance: Deinamig: Benjamin is capable of using Aura to fuel an individual section of his body to well beyond its usual limits. Fueling his legs, for example, will drastically increase both speed and power of his legs, and fueling his arms will do much the same. This can, theoretically, be applied to any section of his body. The Aura for this is usually provided by the resevoirs built up within his weapons, but that supply is not infinite. If a situation arises where he is unable to tap into it (or it runs out) he can directly fuel his Semblance with his present Aura.

Personality: Benjamin is a friendly guy. He also, at first glance through his performance in school, nothing to write home about. Average or slightly above in all his classes, with the only oddities appearing once one takes a closer look. His homework assignments represent minimal effort, while all examination scores actually place him near the top of the grading scale. Between the two, depending on how the class is run, they average out to roughly average grades. In short, Benjamin doesn't bother to do his homework until the last minute, if at all. He conforms to a decidedly nonstandard view of what is important, and what is not. Things he views as "busy work", such as most homework assignments, are treated with at best casual disregard, while things he views as important (tests, examinations, practice, getting to know people) works at. His strange views actually are rooted in a single opinion; if it isn't something he needs to do in order to do well in his life, it doesn't really matter. People skills will be important, combat skills will be important, all of the knowledge he amasses will be important. So he takes his tests and exams seriously, but at the end of the day… Who's going to care, once he leaves Beacon, whether or not his did his vocabulary flash cards?

This practical viewpoint extends to many aspects of his life, but he will always make an effort to get to know people. His wit might be a little sarcastic at times, but anyone who he views as a friend will find that few will go to greater lengths for their friends. Aside from his practicality, which more than a few teachers might instead term "laziness", Ben has one other notable quirk. He seldom fights at full capacity. He believes it is always best to have an ace or two tucked away up the sleeve, so that if a situation ever arises where he simply can't handle it, or needs just a little more power… He has something to draw on.

Color: Steel Gray

Emblem: A single inverted sword set behind a shield emblazoned with a crown device.

Appearance: Benjamin is a few inches short of six feet, making about average height for his gender. He has an athletic build, obviously necessary given his school, but he isn't overly muscular.The fighting style he prefers requires nimble movements, mandating that he maintain both a reasonable muscle mass as well as his agility. A faint grin is his default expression, blue-gray eyes bright with life under slightly messy light brown hair. He wears the Beacon school uniform completely unmodified, though it isn't at all uncommon to see him take the coat off and carry it around. When not attending class (and thus not required to wear his uniform), he tends to default to jeans paired with a black or gray long sleeved shirt. Light but durable boots are his footwear of choice, as his usual field attire simply adds some lightweight gray armor over his torso, and perhaps greaves to his shins. Artorius and Lawsnlot are carried at his belt, one on either side.

[User]
Cobalt Chideta

Cobalt looked over at Sapphire and frowned. He didn't like this girl very much, she seemed to be a very negative person. He was going to ignore her for now but he didn't think they would ever get along.

 "I have a saying that I typically stick by. The first impression should always be great, cause it may be the last as well. That's why I'm a little stressed about how I'm coming off to everyone." Cobalt explained to Oswald after he told him to relax. Then Gren came back and Cobalt tilted his head.

"Wait what? I'm the leader?" He thought back to his initial conversation with Headmaster Ozpin and frowned.

---

One Day Ago

Cobalt nodded and smiled as he listened to the headmaster explain where he was going to be staying and such. As he zoned out and thought about how cool Beacon was, Ozpin continued to talk."You will be the leader of your team and as such will be responsible for all of them. They are on a mission but should be back later today." Cobalt vaguely acknowledged all of this as he thought about whether or not he should make a welcome back feast. Nothing too big probably. Ozpin coughed to get his attention and Cobalt's eyes focused. "Oh, yes of course! I'll get out right now! You're a busy man and I don't want to keep you waiting for me!" Cobalt got out of his chair and began to leave when Ozpin spoke. "You're forgetting your schedule Mr. Chideta. We wouldn't want you to be tardy." Cobalt chuckled and grabbed it from the desk. " Sorry." He backed out of the room and closed the door. Damn. That guy really knows how to make a guy feel at home. He's so calm all the time.

---

Present

"Oh yeah. Huh." Cobalt really should've played better attention when Headmaster Ozpin was talking. "I am not the type of guy to go blindly charging in. Unless I'm bored and I have at least a 96.438152 percent chance of winning the encounter. Then yeah I'll probably go charging in blindly." He smiled at the end of that statement and drank some more water. He put the glass backed down and his eyes twinkled. "I'm far from stupid."

Gren mentioned a party and energy practically began to radiate off of Cobalt. "Are we heading to any bars? I've been told I'm a fun drunk." He did not come from a town with good nor strict bouncers. Alcohol was a very available thing for him. "Wait who's Sapphire's uncle?"

[Assistant]
Vega Venetia – VGNB - Deli N'Doul

After getting out of History Class, Vega proceeded to open her scroll to getting a message from Gratia, in her usual manner.

>Beryl Harken, Otter Faunus.
>Likely swordsman.
>Currently in the dorm.
>Work on your fucking grammar.

Tsk. Vega was not in her content mood. Taking a trip back to Mistral in the morning and coming back to Beacon made her somewhat irritable. Either way she responded back, typing on her scroll…

>You should learn how to write in full sentences. ;)

…ending with a witty comment.

Vega then proceeded to the cafeteria until learning from nearby chatter of a new deli. When she entered the deli, she saw the tiger-faunus…that same person and the same Orc faunus that wrecked the dining hall on her first day. It seemed the tiger-faunus was at his antics again in air towards the Orc faunus, as she looked at the Deli's menu from afar annoyed at the sight of them as she continued to keep her face of contentment.

[User]
Krysthane grinned happy that he willing to spend some time together, as they entered the shop she saw that many people already had the same idea. She briefly debated whether they should sit by themselves or with someone else but the decision was essentially taken out of her hands when she heard someone, Gren? Call them over. Shrugging Krysthane replied to Abel, "Guess we can join the party over there." she said as she made her way over to the rapidly expanding tables. To her surprise just as Gren came back to the tables from somewhere he was suddenly attacked by a... what seemed to be an overly friendly faunus. "One sec." she muttered to no one in particular as she took her scroll out and whipped out a message to the other two members of her team, as Sepia was already here.

While her scroll was open she quickly checked names and appearances that way she knew who everyone was. Of course she had done that when she first got here but double checking never hurt. After what she hoped counted as a relatively brief look at her scroll she stashed it and looked around. It seemed like half the school was crammed into the Deli already. Krysthane turned at the sound of Gren making an announcement, apparently they were going be bringing Gren's friend on a tour throughout the city. She immediately thought of what little experience she had with the city, maybe she could get those guys at the cat cafe place to give them a ride. They had bragged about having some nice rigs, she was sure they wouldn't mind sharing.

 Krysthane would have to visit them as soon as their 'night on the town' started. She turned to Abel while she waited for her other teammates to show up, "Hey do you have a ride for tonight? If not then I might know some people we can borrow vehicles from for the night." Krysthane offered. Then she called out, "Hey Sepia, could ya come over here for a second?" Assuming the friendly faunus came over Krysthane would explain, "You know those guys from the cat cafe on our last mission. I'm going to see if I can get rides from them for whoever needs them, sound like a plan?" Krysthane ended her explanation with a question because being leader was good and all but she hated making decisions without some sort of feedback.

[Assistant]
"He'd better, that match means he's going to be low on Aura for the next half a week." Said cap commented, plopping down at the same table as his teammates with a tray of food in hand. Exactly when he arrived in the cafeteria was much harder to determine, but he clearly hadn't had any trouble finding his teammates. Not that he usually did. Even in a massive crowd, they tended to stand out. He casually picked up his piece of pizza and took a large bite, looking from Lauren towards his left, to Sangue towards his right, before back to Lauren. "He didn't really expect to be fighting Lizzie fucking Borden. Sound like anyone you know, Lauren?"

Not bothering to stifle his grin, he took another bite of his pizza. "Amy's doing much better. Gave her an Ibuprofen and instructions to keep hydrated and rest. She'll call if she needs us."


[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]
"Then get this bunch moving into the kitchen!" he shouted right back, even as the gunfire continued -- they were suppressing anything that moved upright and tried to return fire, even despite a few return spells flung at them. Volume of fire? Well, at least three belt-fed machineguns going, along with tandem charge rockets, designed to penetrate into a hard target, such as a vehicle or structure and then explode once inside, past the barrier. Bunkers, tanks...Parael's house. Once they went off, ball bearings and shrapnel filled the area. That would be bad if one landed while they were still in there.

He managed to move through the room, thoroughly wrecked in something less than five minutes of combat. The bullets left pockmarks in the walls that children had finger painted, the shrapnel from the rocket propelled grenades left holes and the secondaries left scorch marks in places. The furniture was similarly shredded, and the room's decor was well on its way to debris, but there was at least enough of a couch to crouch behind and the walls were intact enough to provide some cover as he moved low.

He was tempted to shift to his man-beast form then and there, but he had the feeling that there might well be silver in the rounds -- if these shooters were clued in, they might have loaded up for lycanthropes, in which case the immunity to regular bullets might well be offset by the gunners reloading with silver. Those weren't assault rifles or something light; these were full-sized rounds fired from a general purpose machinegun. They hit hard and they ripped through walls.

His feet crunched broken glass and pieces of wood underneath as he picked his way through the kitchen, itself not nearly as bad as the living/play room that was being savaged with more weapons fire. Tony opened the door and carefully looked around the area to the rear of the house; luckily, the lines of sight weren't real good, because there were other homes nearby, and it provided a bit of cover...best of all, the shooters were still shooting, but bullets weren't landing in their direction anymore.

That didn't mean the way was clear, the guys hitting the house may well have a force keeping the back area watched. He wasn't sure, but he did know that they had to get the fuck out of here. It was loud, dark and the smoke and gunpowder smells were filling his nostrils, but he could see like, well, a cat in the dark.

All the same, there were enemies there, about to kick open the door and grenande the kitchen; three men that smelled...off. Like mortal thralls of vampires or something. It made some sense -- the leeches always had hangerons looking to join the club and the vampires used these errand boys for all they were worth. Feed them back some blood and they got to be like junkies looking for a fix. It was said to be like speed and PCP, making the typical human stronger, faster, more aggressive.

But they were not sufficiently clued in; they didn't know that one of the worst possible beings to meet in the dark was a lycanthrope -- there were less of them than vampires, because it was a matter of heredity, but they were immensely fast and strong, resistant to damage, and had a predator's senses fused to a human mind. It wasn't to say they couldn't be taken-- prepared hunters could do quite a thorough job of it, but these three thought they were turning their guns on the first man out the door, and what they got was a halfway point between man and African lion, standing on two feet but hunched over with over-long arms whose hands ended in overlong claws. The shreds of his clothing were hanging off this apparition.

The three simply didn't last that long, not against a headlong rush. Lions had an incredible upper-body strength and were designed for the ambush hunt -- they did not lope long distances after prey, and Tony did the same thing here; a sudden springing forward and a man fountained blood. Another then was ripped into with claws on his way to the third, vaulting forward and getting the fellow before he could flee or fire or let off a grenade.

Three down, very quickly. Tony was shifted back into his human form, breathing heavily from a heady mix of hormones that weren't entirely the human variety; there was a degree of satisfaction that flowed through him that came from the kill, a sense of enjoyment that Lycans felt involuntarily in the throes of their fight or flight. It was why so many of them reveled in violence. Even Tony had to get out of town and hunt animals to get it out of his system; it was hardwired into them, and modern life, with the emphasis on self-control, even self-denial, was especially rough on lycanthropes. The shift back to humanity was like coming down from a really good high, complete with an afterglow that made him want to smile, even as it caused a sense of self-loathing, deep within the human parts of his psyche, where sentience and biochemistry waged their eternal war.

He was drenched in blood and wearing shreds of clothing, but seemed to regard that as normal, or at least as something he couldn't help. The bodies were limp mounds in the darkness, splayed out on Parael's back lawn with their eyes sightlessly watching the night sky, heedless of how maimed they were in the last moments of their lives.

"Stay low, don't get seen," he called back to the door, even as he grabbed one of the guns off the men; vampire thralls, with AK's. That wasn't entirely surprising, vamps tended to have their fingers in all kinds of pies, and weapons dealing was one of the ways they made ends meet. But it meant he had a gun and some magazines if he needed them.

[Assistant]
Flint was out of ammo, he hadn't been expecting to be in a firefight when he planned on coming here. Bullets continued to hit the dirt and it seemed like it was time to leave right about now, he glanced to the others, watching as Rikive was shot and then seeing her shield magically form.

"That would be great if we were up against the Persians" Flint thought to himself as he peeked over his hastily built barricade. He saw that the majority of the fire was coming from a building across the street, he also noticed one of the attackers begin to turn on his ally's. No doubt Beth doing the thing he hates her doing. Controlling people was just… morally wrong. Flint decided it best to make a hasty retreat, and so began his way to the back door.

As he entered the backroom he was met with a sight that made even him shudder. Tony was ripping some people a part. Flint was quiet, he didn't want to intervene with the were-lions 'fun'. He was relieved when he finally returned to his human form, calling back as he scooped up a Kalashnikov. Flint joined him, picking up one of the AK's, it was a bit too modern for him, he was far more proficient with early submachine guns and rifles, but he figured he could use it.

"Make sure to take the safety off" Flint joked to Tony as he racked the slide on the gun, allowing a fresh round to enter the chamber. He stepped over some of the bloody pulp in the garden and began to walk to the location of his car, staying low as to hopefully avoid more blood shed.

"Maybe next time you should leave something for their families to bury" He called back, wondering if the others would follow him or split off to find another car.


[System]
Real life:
Age: 16
Appearance:

Birthday: 16 September
Personality: The best way to describe it would be quietly willful. He wants to do what he wants, when he wants how he wants to do it but he won't complain about anything unless it's something he doesn't like.
Bio: He's been playing for a very long time. Once he used to spend all the time he could, clocking thousands of hours in the game, but now that he's hit the roof, he's basically just screwing around. Although he spends almost all his time in the game, he has an amazing ability to cram last minute and he still gets average grades. They've been on the rise recently as he's stopped playing so much and his parents are happy that he spends more time out of the game than before.

In Game
Avatar Name: Datze
Avatar Title: Dragon God
Appearance: Similar to his real life appearance, but he looks about 5 years older and he has red hair. His wears red plate gauntlets and plate greaves made out of dragon scales and he also wears a face mask that covers his mouth. The mask looks like a dragon baring it's teeth.
Class: Ascended Dragon

Signature Move/s:

Overflowing Terror: Datze radiates an aura of terror several times more intense than even the terror of a boss-level Dragon's roar. The aura will affect anyone near or lower than his level and gives varying effects depending on the enemy's strength. Enemies slightly below the user's strength will have some large stat penalties while enemies far beneath the user's level could potentially faint from the pressure. Even beings normally not affected by fear such as golems and constructs will be affected by Overflowing terror.

Almighty Dragon Rage:
When Almighty Dragon Rage is active, debuffs from sources that are lower level than the user will not work. The user will also gain an aura which gives them extra damage and defence depending on the amount of enemies in range and the amount of hits taken; and the user will temporarily gain infinite stamina. Almighty Dragon Rage can also be expended to super-charge a Dragon Breath.

Secret Skills(But not all his skills): Dragon Heart, Dragon Bomb, Dragon Call, Descent of the Dragon God

Avatar Bio: This avatar is regarded by all of the players as undeniably one of the strongest avatars in the game. The class itself is considered legendary in lore, and the preceding classes are considered some of the hardest to advance.

Ascended Dragon is the final form of the secret Dragon class, a class in which a user over time slowly gains the stats of an actual dragon. However, very, very few people have ever managed to convert to the class, as even the first challenge is considered impossible. Fight and kill a dragon at peak condition by yourself. No help is allowed, and the fight must take place on a flat plain.

Those that managed it found it to be the least of the challenges, each challenge afterwards could only increase in difficulty. When the world deemed it impossible to advance to the final stage, one user was seen, standing upon a mountain of dragon corpses. As they watched, a huge white dragon descended from the heavens, and the two proceeded to fight. The brilliant flashes of light stopped anyone from clearly seeing the battle, but all of a sudden the light faded. He flew through the air, some kind of aura blazing brilliantly as he tore out the White Dragon's heart with his bare hands.

A little later, he came to bear the title 'Dragon God'. But what doe the title 'Dragon God' really mean?
"To be recognized by each and every Dragon as the Almighty." - Road of the Dragon God, an article on the legend.

[User]
Nacht was unaware of the disagreements the others were having about his words and actions, and even if he did he wouldn't have cared. After he had finished making his piece, the Night's Emperor received an important missive from a player in the Black Cowls.

The rest of the message contained the list of traitors and their associated guilds. Frankly, he wasn't surprised. It wasn't as if many of them would reach the upper echelons of his organization. Nevertheless, it was bad if more and more turned up. Even the smallest of ants could cause a nuisance.

Nacht decided he would come up with a solution later. Just as he exited from the message, Datze had teleported the group into another area. Leave it to that man to do as he wished. It further irked him when he took command, but he acquiesced since he was the one leading the quest. Any other time would have been a different matter entirely.

As the Dragon God explained the plan, Nacht changed his outfit with a flick of his hand. No longer was he wearing his magnificent armor and cape, it was replaced with simple leathers that made him look more like a sellsword. However, his face still remained obscured. Though he was not wearing his iconic helm, he had replaced it with a bandana covering the lower half of his face. To the others that never had seen him in such clothing before would be surprised to learn of his young appearance, sharp gold eyes, and black hair.

"Datze, I'm a little disappointed in you. I can do far more than order NPCs around," he said amusedly. "Bonum, what is your plan? Please don't tell me you're simply going to ask people to aid you out of the goodness of their hearts?"

[Assistant]
"Oooh, that sounds really interesting," Hime clapped excitedly. "Hey Gray, we get to be on same team, fun huh?" she said to him, smiling brightly. She then turned to Datze and joked, "You just can't stay away from me, can you?"

She was glad that she could be useful in the quest. She was all excited to go, but quickly she realized that she didn't know where the guy that apparently had the journal was, and waited for Datze to take the lead. She waved goodbye to the rest of the group, as they separated to complete their tasks.

[User]
Bonum rubbed his head at Datze remark. It was hard to tell when Nacht was being serious or not, being such an avid roleplayer as he was. But he didn't have too long to be embarrassed by it before they were teleported off to Dural. Bonum visited the city often helping out with a few requests, he enjoyed the city even if it was as generic as they came. When told to equip something less conspicuous, he quickly searched his inventory and changed his white paladin outfit for a low-level dark grey one. Then he was told who his partner is and turned to Nacht.

"Well Nacht, there's only so much we can do incognito. But you should know as well as anybody how far a little charisma can go. But in case asking simply doesn't work, you and I have money, and I have a few items that might be useful with haggling with a few knowledgeable people. But if you have a better plan, then I am certainly all ears." He told him with a shrug. "I will suggest we check in the library and the marketplace for info before any other though. That's where knowledge and rumors usually reside."

[Assistant]
Nacht pondered over Bonum's suggestion—the White Knight knew better than to think he can order him after all. His idea had merit and would make for a good start on their task. Nacht glanced at his surroundings, filing away the minute details of this particular starting city. Dural Cairn was not spectacular by any means. He had conquered several cities that were the jewel of their neighbors. This city was nothing. However, it was nothing with a purpose. It served as a starting ground for many beginners.

Generic, Bonum's suggestion was too generic, thought Nacht. It was a good start and, normally, even his best agents would have started with the same kind of idea. However, anyone can think it. Beginners plagued the marketplace and library of any city. The Monster Café was meant to be hidden, away from the prying eyes of adventurers. Putting the information in those two areas only risked having idiotic newbies find the place and charge in the café to cause a ruckus.

Underneath his bandana, Nacht smirked. Turning to Bonum, he announced, "Your idea holds merit, but it's too obvious. We're in a beginner city. Those two places are where beginners go all too often. Why risk an information leak there? We need to head to the underworld. We need to talk to the lowest of the low, the scummiest of the scum, if we want our information."

[User] Grayliks returned a smile to Hime, waving to her and then looking to everyone else as they were separating and planning on how to go about their tasks. he turned back around to Datze and said "Hey, Datze, if you've really got nothing for me to do, why don't i go track down Food-Kun. I know you don't really have anything for him to do either but it would be good to have us all together on this quest" he shrugged "and who knows, maybe me and him will come up with an idea"

[Assistant]
Kosuke was a little conflicted. The rest of them didn't look really ready to go, but that was probably fine... He walked over towards Mom-Hime as she started to leave, and turned around to offer some last advice.

"Alright, Grayliks, I'd prefer it if you taged along with those two to make sure they don't get in trouble but you can do whatever you want." By 'those two' he of course meant Bonum and Nacht. "And Erezin, when Katherine gets here, make sure to fill her in."

He quickly jogged to catch up with Momo_Hime.

"Our destination's the Bard College down in Dural." He said, "It shouldn't take too long to get there."


[System]
Age: 15

Codename: Samson

Powers: Hair Manipulation - Sammy has complete control over his hair. He can move it like a limb, being able to wrap it into shapes or pick up things with it. His hair is super strong and could pickup a full sized adult and throw them or block a punch or weak swing of a bat, but can not block things like blades or a bullet. Sammy can rapidly grow hair to get a longer reach but he only does it to a certain limit as he has to cut after using it to get it back to its original length. He also can change his hair to any colour or shade possible, this takes about a minute on average to do, but can take longer when he has more hair. Currently he has most control over the hair on his head but is practising with other hair such as facial or arm.

Appearance: Sammy is a tanned individual who stands a bit tall for his age at 5'10". His build is average for his height as he gets a decent amount of exercise. He has eyes that are a deep brown but are hidden behind his hair. Speaking of his hair it's dark brown, almost black, and goes just past his shoulders. Other than that the most noticeable feature is his face where you can see his Native American heritage.

When it comes to clothes Sammy wears a variety. He wears the common darker colours associated with Metal, but will also wear bright pop culture related shirts and sweaters. But other than pop logos, Sammy doesn't care about brand name. He can be seen wearing regularly cheap sneakers and well worn hoodies and doesn't care.

Costume: The most notable thing about Sammy's costume is the skull mask. Not meant to frighten, but as a nod to Sammy's love of Metal. The bottom layer of his clothes are grey jogging attire. This is then covered in black pads on his legs, knees, and elbows as well as a combat vest of the same colour. He also wears gloves and boots of a similar black. Also while not apart of his costume, he usually turns his hair white while on patrol.

School clubs or achievements: Decent grades, a member of the school's anime and comic clubs, member of a Metal band with fellow students.

Brief bio: Samuel Crichton was born in Chicago to a Seth, a corporate training designer, and Riley, a Sunday school teacher. When Sammy was young his Father wasn't around much as his job meant he had to travel around the country training newcomers to his company. So Sammy was left with his Mother who made sure he had a good Christian upbringing. This was undermined by his Grandfather, also named Samuel, who was Native American and told Sammy about other religions and said he should make up his own mind. So Sammy expanded his horizons, getting into comics and anime, and eventually Heavy Metal. His newfound love of Metal led him to start taking guitar lessons. Shortly after this Sammy's father got a promotion meaning he wouldn't have to travel. The catch? His new job was in Central City. So the Crichton's packed up and moved to the new city. Less than a year later Sammy started high school and found others with the same interest. Eventually Sammy joined a Metal band made up of students, Sammy being the youngest. Sammy loved being in the band but felt inferior to the other guitarist who was quite a bit more skilled than Sammy. So Sammy figured he had to get some better training. As such he jumped at the opportunity when he heard former Central City local, now underground Metal legend, Richard Ashton was going to be at a party at a local warehouse. He never did meet Richard at the party, but instead now learnt that he could control his already long hair, and could even make it longer. After he was approached by Apollo, Sammy remembered the tale of Samson whose power came from his hair. Seemed like an appropriate name for him.

[User]
The last week has been quite a rollercoaster. Caroline was always a busybody anyway but there was no amount of experience that could have prepared her for what had happened to her. Recalling where this all started it was innocent enough. A large amount of the student body had been invited to a party on Friday night. It wasn't one that she or any other of the council had arranged. But it was close enough an she had told her parents that she was going to a party that the students were holding. Her parents being out often she had been able to get a license at 16. Driving herself the location seemed somewhat odd, but without knowing who arranged it it may just be a place that was easy to get.

At face value the party was actually well put together. In between dancing and talking with people, much to the contrary of how she was often perceived, she asked around trying to find out who put this together. not really getting anywhere with the search the power went out. Perhaps they tripped a breaker or something with all the equipment. Whatever the problem it was fixed in short order and people picked up where they left off. At least until the gas started to get around the room. Some left while others stuck around until the authorities came to break up the party. It wasn't until later that she heard the excuse, something about structural problems. Knowing what she does now it sounded like a diversion. Digression aside while the mass of high school students were getting herded out things went to hell. Students started mutating, some attacked the others there. The shock of the scene was scared out of the teen when one of the things looked at her. Done with the situation Caroline ran to her car and was gone before talking with anyone.

That could have been the end of it. Brushed under the rug and pretend like it never happened. Fate was not so merciful for the blond was, like many there, exposed to the strange mutagenic gas. By the next morning she passed up going out for breakfast with her folks, feeling under the weather. While they were away Caroline stumbled about trying to her to her phone. Something was very wrong with her but she never made it before feeling like she was being pulled apart. Blurred vision threw her off and when her head cleared she glanced around and saw herself. An attempt to push the double away produced a bright light that the other blocked with a shadow barrier when she winced expecting harm.

Being in two places at once was confusing to be sure. Those first moments they reacted very much the same, practically mirroring each other. It didn't take long for some individuality to set in though. Not wanting to freak anyone else out they decided to keep one of them hidden for now, taking turns being Caroline. For the sake of their sanity they selected Carolyn as the other's name. When school came around one went to do the usual routine while the other stayed at home. That evening they found that their experiences were shared. This revelation was actually quite significant as it meant the mountain of work that needed to be done could be wiped out twice as fast.

Of course they couldn't hide from her parents forever. Odd to think of one's self as a "they." Mom and dad helped a lot when officers showed up to ask questions, keeping her secret. Despite the bizarre circumstances they were surprisingly accepting of the fact that they now had twins. How they managed to deal with that the girls could only chalk up to love. Even though her life had been turned upside down as the week went on the two seemed to find a decent system. How long the ruse could be kept up was hard to say and when they received a text they thought the gig was up already. Now they needed to find out who this Apollo person was and what they knew. Texting back "I'll be there." Carolyn contacted her double to get there early before they got out of class. Staying out of sight Caroline made it to the closet in advance and waited for Apollo.

[Assistant]
*Beep-boop, Beeb-poop, Beb-epoop B-beep-oop, boop-Beep...*
He had fallen asleep to the monitors out of sync. He had always thought his parents beat in time, but apparently dual-coma resting systolic says otherwise. He had barely managed to pull their beds together using an air hose, something weak enough to snap, and slept under their beds after eating the dinners waiting for them if they woke up.
*Beep-boop, Beeb-poop, Beb-epoop B-beep-oop, boop-Beep...*
Sleep was the wrong word, meditation, he couldn't risk tossing and turning in his sleep. Not after what he did to the RV, sheet metal was like cardboard in his hands now, he could jump over cars like they were toys and survive a fall from at least a warehouse roof but he still felt heat and cold and pain. He couldn't run fast cause of his leg strength, only jump like an animal.
*Beep-boop, Beeb-poop, Beb-epoop B-beep-oop, boop-Beep...*
He used the jumping to keep away from the cops who keep looking for him, probably to lock him up in an foster home. He spent nights between his parents room and the RV, it was paid up for the rest of the month but he took everything of value and locked it up in a bus locker or two so he could pawn it off a bit at a time. One guy tried mugging him for the money, they went through a brick-wall.
*Beep-boop, Beeb-poop, Beb-epoop B-beep-oop, boop-Beep...vvt-vvt-vvt*
His phone went off on vibrate and he was thankful that it was damn indestructible for him to handle it. It could call, chirp and text, that was it, but that was all it had to do to get a message:
For our lives now, for everyone we know and love, its us versus them.I don't know who exactly is the 'them' of that line, but we have something deeper here.That explosion, the party itself, there's no coincidence here. We were set up from the start to be exposed to whatever that stuff was. They've been at it for some time now, slowly picking up some of the other people who were there that night. Some willingly joining them, most probably not though. They're the others too, the ones who mutated their minds are gone, twisted into some kind of monster beyond all human form. Or using their powers for greed, or just plain chaos. I made sure you're the only person I want seeing this message, its encrypted, and will be completely wiped from existence as soon as I find out you read it. They might think of you as a menace now, some kind of threat, but I know you have it in you to do something about all this, the right thing to do. As for who I am? Just call me Apollo for now. Trust me, I might be the only 'friend' you have anymore. As soon as I hear back from you, meet me at the janitor's closet in the west hall after school at the place you go to during the day. Once you're there, we can get this show on the road.
Crappy phone made it all one message, it took some time to separate it all apart using a chopstick to navigate the phone. Looking at the phones clock, he could make it soon enough. Throwing on a ski jacket that hid his features, he made his way to the school in time for the final bell.


[System]
Raynor Blake

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Character Summary
Aliases: Ray, Rune
Age: 23
Home Planet: Nar Shadda
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Class: Jedi Guardian
Languages: Galactic Basic, Droidspeak

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Appearance
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 170 pounds
Build: Athletic
Eye Color: Brown
Skin Tone: Tan
Brief Description: Raynor looks like a standard human - curly dark brown hair, dark brown eyes that a slight shadow to them, and all the standard limbs/appendages. He's lean but muscular, more of a sprinter than a boxer in terms of build. Most people wouldn't expect it, but he cares a lot about fashion. He tends to wear things that are a little more stylish and show off his figure than a typical Jedi.

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Psychology
Protective * Secretive * Brave * Selfish * Intelligent * Introverted

Personality: Raynor is a bit of a cryptic individual. Whether it's through what he calls his Charm or just his personality, he never is completely straight with someone. He could convince a Hutt to forgo a debt without breaking a sweat. Yet while some might think he's charismatic because of this, he's much more of a dry humor sort of person. He doesn't make a fuss if he can help it and tends to work in the background.

Now, he's also incredibly brave and protective. He'll go out of his way to protect what he believes his worth saving - whether that's his own interests or those of another person. This ambition and resiliency can come off as selfishness on occasion, which isn't entirely wrong. Raynor cares deeply about the Republic, and feels a grave sense of responsibility for the galaxy and the people within it... but these days, that is motivated mostly by a desire to create a better world for his wife and kid.

Sexuality: Pansexual
Relationship Status: Married (secretly)
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Fears:
* Losing his wife and child
* Exposure of his secret marriage to the Jedi Council
* The fall of the Republic

Likes:
* Fashion
* Stargazing
* Animals
* Practical Jokes
* Sunsets
* Snow

Dislikes:
* Personal Questions
* Hot, Desert Climates
* Separatists
* Politicians
* Rations
* Pazaak

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Cards On The Table
Skills:
* Computer Use: 0
* Demolitions: [Class] 2
* Stealth: 0
* Awareness: [Class] 3
* Persuade*: [Class] 3
* Repair: 0
* Security: 0
* Treat Injury: [Class] 3

Feats:
* Jedi Sense
* Jedi Defense
* Force Jump
* Power Attack
* Dueling
* Toughness
* Close Combat

Powers:
* Force Push
* Stun Droid
* Throw Lightsaber
* Battle Precognition

Lightsaber Forms:
* The Perseverance Form, also called Shien or Form V, is an aggressive form that does not sacrifice protection from blaster fire. It is most effective when facing blaster-wielding opponents or when outnumbered and least effective against a single foe.
* The Aggression Form, also known as Ataru or Form IV, is best against a single opponent and is especially weak against blaster fire.

Medical Issues/Injuries: Any long term medical problems or past medical problems need to be listed here. Put N/A if your character doesn't really have any.
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*

Possessions: Limited to the spots provided. This is generally the list of items that you own, just list your characters possessions. These are the basics that you have on you 24/7. These characters are moving a lot so you won't be able to keep much on you. The more you have, the greater the chance that it'll end up getting lost...If it isn't listed, you don't have it.
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History
Destiny: 1 paragraph. Consult with the GM. The character may not achieve their destiny, but as destiny is a force in Star Wars, so shall it be in the game. Is your character destined to do something unspeakable?

Background: 3 paragraphs. How did they get to where they are today?

Republic Record:

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Extras
Character Quote: Something they say a lot or live by
Theme Song: What would be playing if they walked up in a movie?
Anything Else:

*By submitting this CS in its completion I am stating I have read all the rules for this Rp and am agreeing to follow them to the fullest with respect and courtesy. I acknowledge that I can and will be removed from the RP without warning if I break a rule or cause problems with my fellow Rpers or the GM.

[User]
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MZ-33, Protocol Droid
29 pts (Light-Side)

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Emzie started to lead. They followed the map that they had of the factory. A small light indicated to them where they needed to go -the power source of the factory.

The rest of the way was clear. They had met quite a bit of resistance, but Emzie still felt it might not be appropriate. There was of course the strange droid with the lightsaber. The lightsaber that Emzie now carried. They had never carried one for more than a moment in all of their 'life'.

Emzie stopped in front of a door painted red with several numbers painted in black.

"Through this door will be the power source of the factory. The mission is to destroy that. The space battle currently happening above this planet would end faster without the swarm of droids that were being made and being shipped right out into the fight.

[Assistant]
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Raynor Blake, Jedi Knight
21 pts (Light-Side)

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 Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

 It was taking all of Raynor's focus to not just focus on the bloody wound in his side. He had to use the Force, reach out with his senses, determine if the way ahead was clear. The battle raging above the planet's surface depended on them. It didn't matter if they lived or died, all that mattered was if they could destroy the power core of this factory. In the shape he was in, Raynor didn't know if he'd be able to escape the factory in time if he destroyed the core, resulting in a violent explosion. "Do you know how to disable the core, Emzie?" Raynor asked, even though each word physically hurt to form.

 He reached ahead with his senses, trying to determine if he detected any lifeforms up ahead. He didn't feel any. There could be droids though. That was one of the pesky things about the clankers - they were slippery when it came to the Force. He could throw them around with the Force all day, but feeling their souls, their presence? It was almost impossible for him. He knew other Jedi were better at it, but he wasn't. Especially not now.

 He took another breath, bracing himself, before flinging the door open with the Force. His muscles were tensed, ready for a fight, and...

 The room was empty of droids.

 "Emzie, I don't like this..." he muttered warily. "It should be guarded, right?"

[User]
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MZ-33, Protocol Droid
29 pts (Light-Side)

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Emzie looked around the room. They were tempted to fire a shot and see if it would bring out potential enemies. This was called 'scarring out the rats'. They did not though. Instead, they turned to face Raynor.

"You are correct. This place should be guarded. There is a chance all the guards left and were caught by the original mission. We should continue. Can you place the charges? Or give me instructions on how to do it myself." The question seemed to be checking on Raynor's health, without asking directly. It was clear Emzie was distressed about Raynor's health but was too focused on the mission.

[Assistant]
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Raynor Blake, Jedi Knight
21 pts (Light-Side)

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 "Right, the charges," Raynor muttered. He should have known that. He hated that he hadn't known that. The wear and tear on his body and mind was beginning to show. He turned, seeing that Emzie had the charges on them. Raynor knew more or less how they functioned - they were standard issue, the sort used on all jobs like these. But a relatively new design for the Grand Army of the Republic - an older droid might not know how they worked. "I can do it," Raynor assured Emzie, reaching out with a shaking hand and grabbing the bag of charges.

 He started towards the core, only to stumble and fall to the ground, the bag of charges spilling out around him. Then, the last line of defense of this droid factory showed itself. It came up from the ground, a horrific and noxious gas. Raynor's vision immediately began to blur. He cursed under his breath. Some Jedi were able to hold their breath for extended periods of time, calling on the Force... but he had already called on the Force so much. And the gas started to sting. Emzie would register that this gas was a chemical warfare weapon used by the Separatists to take out organic matter, whereas droids and whatnot would remain unharmed.

 "Place... the... charges..." Raynor choked out, before he lost consciousness.

[User]
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MZ-33, Protocol Droid
29 pts (Light-Side)

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If Emzie was capable of blinking they would be. Staring at the no unconscious body of Raynor. Quickly they went over priorities in their mind. A decision was made. Emzie dragged Raynor out of the room and back into the hallway, checking for more droids. Emzie knew the basics of first aid. This was not a scrape. But they figured fresh air would be good.

They also had no idea how to set the charges. Raynor could not. They could not. But they had the spare lightsaber that Raynor had removed from the not-a-droid-droid. Fine. Brute force it would be. Emzie returned to the room. Turned on the lightsaber and started dragging it through the machines.

It was not easy. The parts that Emzie figured would be the best to destroy the system was hard to reach. She had no desire to throw the weapon. The weapon was also hard to manipulate. Some of the machines stopped working. But Emzie assessed the situation and knew it would not be enough. And Raynor needed to be returned to the Bacta tank. The mission. Was it already too late?

There had to be something to stop the factory. A self-destruct. But it wouldn't be here, which meant they would have to find it. Get to it. And survive the whole thing. They picked up the bag of spilled charges and placed it back in their storage compartment, where they also placed the now turned-off lightsaber.

Emzie left the room pulling up the map. Picked up Raynor again and started following a new path.

[Assistant]
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Raynor Blake, Jedi Knight
21 pts (Light-Side)

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 Raynor remained unconscious, unaware of the looming threats surrounding them. In his dream space, he saw something terrible. It was himself, violently disfigured, clinging to life on a distant moon. His Jedi robes were in tatters, his lightsaber gone, and his eyes... they were filled with pure hatred. Raynor watched like a distant observer, unable to do anything, as this version of himself clung to life through the power of the dark side. It was gathering around him more and more with each passing moment, swirling darkness that threatened to devour him and everything it touched...

 "No, no, no..." Raynor murmured in his sleep. "Not...me..."

 As Emzie moved along their new path, they would find more signs of the destruction wrought earlier. One hallway was littered with the bodies of Republic soldiers and droids alike, making it almost impossible to navigate. At the end of the hallway, two bodies in particular would stand out. One was the body of Jedi Master Sevrina Mozh - a Bothan woman. And the other was the body of Commander Firtick, CT-4827.

 Commander Firtick was still breathing.

[User]
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MZ-33, Protocol Droid
29 pts (Light-Side)

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Emzie mourned the loss of another Jedi. They paused at the breathing body of one of the clones. Someone was alive. Emzie gently placed Ryanor on the ground again and moved to Commander Firtick's side. They checked and found a few wounds, and one on his head explaining why he was unconscious. It took a bit of work but Emzie was able to bring the Commander to consciousness.

"Be gentle Commander, but I need your assistance. Commander Raynor has lost consciousness due to some gas. We are unable to complete the original mission. The secondary option of the self-destruct is the best option we have." What had already been almost a suicide attack was now likely to be the only option. But the Republic needed them.

Commander Firtick seemed to be concussed but at least he could stand. They must hurry. Emzie lifted Raynor back up and continued following the path. Expecting Firtick to follow.

[Assistant]
Commander Firtick
28 pts (Light-Side)

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 Commander Firtick was not unaccustomed to loss. Nor were they unfamiliar with the idea that they might die on any of these missions. To lay down their life for the good of the Republic was a high honor; but to continue to serve her would be an even greater one. Their head was pounding and they reached up, feeling the site of the wound tenderly. They felt dried blood crunching underneath their fingers - one of the clankers must've gotten them good, but not good enough. They were still in this fight. "Sorry, what's your designation?" Firtick asked the droid.

 "My memory's a bit hazy, you'll have to forgive me," Firtick apologized. It must've been the head wound. They could remember bits and flashes - the droids coming upon them seemingly out of nowhere, the General going down... but the specifics, such as how they had gotten there, and what the backup plan needed them to do exactly were escaping them at the moment. "But the self destruct option... We won't all get clear. Take me to the designated point, and then I want you to clear out with Commander Blake. And that's an order, trooper."


[System]
Age: 24

Sex: Female

Race: Human

Appearance: A tall, slender girl, Backlash's dirty, waist-length red hair crowns a pale, unhealthy face adorned by cold gray eyes. She wears a woven green shirt, gray or brown trousers, and farmer's boots, while a blue, hooded raincoat shield hers from the elements. If not the raincoat and scarf, then some other elements of heavy clothing; she seldom seems to care about the warmth. She wears a black bow in the collar of her shirt. There is a slight hump to her back, though since she doesn't stoop it isn't immediately apparent.

Occupation: Farmer

Skills: Plowing, seeding, harvesting, watering, agility, resourcefulness, fortitude, intuition

Powers: No innate supernatural abilities

Inventory: A well-made torch that will seldom go out once lit, and that can spread fire easily. A bag of sunflower seeds to chew on or to give to others. A wide-brimmed, rumpled brown hat to keep the sun off.

History: Belle hails from Northington, a rural, backwoods town fifty miles away from Tanjozo. Eleven years ago, Northington erupted into a violent crisis when a string of sudden, violent deaths among the young people sparked a panicked, frenzied hunt for witchcraft. Even when the killings stopped, the wild hunt raged on, becoming a tool for people to take out their anger, mistrust, and resentment on one another. This included Belle, who framed her sister as a witch using nasty vermin called Bone Worms from the expansive town cemetery. During her sister's public execution, an onslaught of Bone Worms caused a terrifying outbreak, during which Belle came to her senses and risked her life to save her sibling's before fleeing into the wilderness. In doing so, she escaped the catastrophic fire that raged through the village. Eventually, she came to Tanjozo, where she happily enlisted as a ranch hand and lived quietly.

About fifty miles away from Tanjozo lie the remains of Northington, a town lost to time and superstition. Eleven years ago it was in its heyday, and while the rest of the world reveled in the latest technological innovations and modern lifestyles the townsfolk of Northington clung doggedly to the past. They drew water from wells, sustenance from the ground, and strength from their kinship. All was not well in the town, however. The people were united by their indomitable faith, but when a young girl was murdered by her own bones in the streets one autumn evening the cry of witchcraft quickly erupted. Fear for loved ones fanned the flames, and Northington became suffused with the panic that drives ordinary people to violence. Accusations were made, and precious few of them in the name of holy righteousness.

Goodwife Osburn was one of the first accused of witchcraft, and when she refused to testify to her alleged unholy practices, she was put to death. Her firstborn daughter, Laura -and her profitable match to the handsome son of the richest man in town- was the object of envy and hatred to thirteen-year-old Belle, and when accusations started becoming more prevalent (not to mention baseless), she connived to frame her older sister as a witch. Searching about the town cemetery one moonless night, she unearthed a colony of unnatural, repulsive creatures: centipede-like vermin, whose grotesque, alabaster-white bodies bore an incredible similarity to spinal cords.. After confronting her initial misgivings about the crawling wretches, she stuffed some into a sack and planted it among Laura's things. The Osburns' neighbors awoke the next morning to horrific screeching, and when they found Belle writhing within the house, they heard her condemnation. After a brief search they discovered the 'Bone Worms', decided them to be evidence of witchcraft, and seized Laura (despite her protests) before hauling her to the town jail.

As was expected of her, Belle was at the head of the crowd that gathered to witness Laura's public execution: burning at the stake. With her insidious plan about to come to a grisly end, Belle was beside herself with a certain dark triumph. So enthralled was she in the blaze that she did not see the warning signs when the townsfolk brought the skeletal vermin to burn with her; at first, she did not notice when the centipedes squirmed out of the villagers' grasp and wormed their way beneath the skin. Only when some of the people went mad, twisted shapes emerging from their bodies, did Belle truly grasp her mistake. She ran, his pouring tears evidence of her gripping regret, but not before untying and saving her sister. Days later, in the aftermath of the disaster and the catastrophic fire that followed, it became apparent that those who survived had been forever changed.

Belle, meanwhile, fled. She ran until she dropped, slept, and then ran again. Living precariously off of what she could find, she made her way across the land and ultimately stumbled into Tanjozo, famished and exhausted. She was found and cared for by the locals, and after getting better she gladly lived as a ranch hand for the local farmers.

Point of Interest: The Charred Village, formerly known as Northington. Nestled in a deep valley almost narrow enough to be called a canyon, it lies in the middle of a large woodland. On the village's terraces, the disused fields are choked by weeds, and where there previously stood towering houses lie only burned husks shoddily rebuilt, tilting like looming shadows over the cobblestone streets. The ground is ashen and littered with fire-blackened bones; even the air, thanks to both fog and dust, can be stifling. The Charred Village is inhabited still, though its denizens rarely leave their homes and never leave the town. Though it trades with other settlements, it does so indirectly, and is not at all friendly to strangers. Its people are gaunt, dead-eyed, secretive, and aggressive to outsiders. Rumors abound about what evil acts may be going on in the hellish Charred Village, not the least disturbing of which are strange, bony growths sprouting out of some of the buildings.

[User]
@Jerkchicken

Sarah arched a brow as the groggy woman in front of her held her head up, she didn't know she was asleep or she wouldn't have bothered her. But a table was really no place to sleep in the first place. She frowned slightly as she answered the waiter, it was obvious she had little to no money. It was soon made apparent why from what she understood of what was said to her. Despite being an Elf she spoke all of none of Elvish seeing as she was raised by a human and not by Elves. She nodded slowly, "I'm Sarah, local smith, nice to meet you." She told her, smiling warmly.

She wondered what it was like, being part of a clan, formerly or not. She knew almost nothing of Elven culture, what she did know from when she was a kid long forgotten. "You're from a clan, huh? That's neat." She told her, genuinely intrigued at the idea. "I don't..speak Elvish either. Kinda lived here all my life, long story." She added nervously.

"You know, if you need a placd to stay I have room at my place?" She offered. The waiter soon came by with water for Nila and job information. With the waiter back she decided to take this opportunity to order something to eat before heading back for the crafts show, turning to him she spoke "If you have it, can I get a baked potato and a glass of ale?" She then turned to Nila, "What about you? Surely you're hungry after such a long trip?" She asked her.

[Assistant]
Cia was smiling and talking to a customer when she saw a herd heading straight for her vegtable stand. "No-No! You are not ruining my vegtables!" Cia yelled at the cows, he fists clenched and before anyone could say something she had taken off her cloths. She knew what was going to happen if she transformed with her cloths on. They would get ruined. Once her cloths were on the ground and just before the cows reached her she got on all fours transforming into her bear form fully. She was huge much larger than any normal bear.

Cia let out a roar making the cows come to a stop scared. However they didn't seem to run, Cia was an intimidating presence, atleast she was intimidating enough to command respect from the cows who just started to walk back to their pen as Cia herded them back. Once all was done she headed back to her cart and transformed back to human before putting her cloths back on. "I really don't like having to do that in public you know." Cia said looking back at the kid who was in charge of the animals. "Just be more careful in the future alright?" Cia added trying not to get angry at the kid.

[User]
A look of surprise came appeared on Nila's face. At first she'd assumed Sarah to belong to a clan but to hear she was a native...it was interesting to say the least. Nila's eyes lit up once she realized this was perfect for her. Not only was Sarah familiar with the town she'd also be able to help her find what she was looking for, plus it wouldn't hurt to see a familiar face around town. "Are you sure? I wouldn't want to be a bother?", she replied to Sarah's offer. It was bad enough that she was offering her a place to stay but on top of that Sarah was not offering her a meal as well. As grateful as she was, Nila hated having to rely on others for help. Growing up with the clan she was always the strong lone wolf yet she enjoyed the company of others all the same.

"Ma ser-", Nila stopped herself, remembering Sarah knew no elvish. "Thank you, Sarah. I'm in your debt", she said before turning to the waiter, "I'll have the same". Nila glanced back at her bow, wondering if it was possible at this hour. The waiter had said that the Sentinels were taking recruits. Nila could only guess the Sentinels were the protectors of this village, perhaps they'd find use for an archer or a scout. There was another option, though it might be more work than its worth. Nila did have skills in leathermaking, she could start up a small business but she'd need to get set up with the proper tools and such. However, all that could wait till tomorrow, tonight was meant for getting to know what she'd call home.

[Assistant] Sarah smiled, "No bother at all, I have plenty of room at my place. Having a guest for a while might not be such a bad thing either." She replied. "You're welcome, in exchange, you can teach me Elvish. Always wanted to learn it, though, there aren't very many books on it around here." She replied on the topic of her being in debt to her. She didn't want to make her have to pay her back or anything, something as simple as that would do nicely, besides it would be interesting having another Elf around town. "Do you have any particular questions you'd like to ask about Tanjozo?" She asked her, "I'll of course show you around town tomorrow too if you want." She added. She wondered absent mindedly if the cow situation was taken care of, then decided it wouldn't matter seeing as she was currently involved in talking to Nila. She'd just sell her wares some other time, who knows some wealthy guy might show up and want her to encrust his sword or something.


[System]
Project Proteus File: Subject PBV-2424
Gender: Male

Age: 27

 Date of Birth
March 4th, 1993

---

---

Background
Appearance

PBV-2424's muzzle is to be kept on at all times. The exaggerated size and sharpness of his teeth and his lack of lips sufficient to cover them have a disturbing psychological effect on other patients. His muzzle is designed to cover this feature to prevent disturbance.

Because of this oral deformity that 2424 either can't or won't use his abilities to fix, 2424 is unable to speak intelligibly.

As of 6/12/11, PBV-2424 is allowed the use of one (1) slate board and free access to chalk for communication so long as he retains good behavior.

Background Information
PBV-2424 was collected on 11/23/09 out of CPS custody due to problematic behavior. Records indicate 2424 was ejected from his home 3 years prior to collection and lived as a homeless child for one full year before entering CPS custody. After two years of repeated escape attempts and violent behavior, PBV-2424 was sent to Sheltering Home Residential Treatment Center, a Daedalus front company. 2424 is officially listed as deceased of a drug overdose on public records. For reasons of his past violent tendencies, despite his conditioning it is advised that all staff remain alert in the presence of PBV-2424 and ready to report uncharacteristic behavior as a containment breach.

Personality
Thanks to his conditioning, 2424 is extremely docile and avoids confrontation unless given his combat command word or is provided with live prey and commanded to hunt. 2424 has shown a preference for the company of female subjects and young subjects, and seems to protect them from more erratic test subject behaviors. Whether this is born out of a stunted physical attraction or some degree of noble intention is unknown.
[NOTE: After Incident 2424-03, all staff are urged not to interfere with 2424's writing implement. We are lucky it was not a staff member who was killed, and that the test subject was a failure. Let this be a reminder of what 2424 is capable of, and to always exercise caution in his presence.]

 Procedure
PBV experimentation began on 12/23/10 after preliminary testing showed him to be resistant to many forms of viral infection developed for testing purposes. Administration of PBV was successful, and subject experienced expected mutations. Subject is currently a carrier of the PBV virus but does not spread it to others, and is safe to be removed from quarantine.

After subject was removed from quarantine, Mind-alteration procedures were enacted to ensure subject would remain in a docile state unless commanded to do otherwise. Subject has a deep aversion to violence that is only lifted when the words "Sic 'em" are spoken in an authoritative tone. 2424's rampage can be stopped by saying the word "heel."

Modifications
Subject has gained the ability to drastically alter the form, composition, and density of his biomass, as well as the ability to consume massive quantities of biological material very rapidly. Subject has been recorded to:
-Grow large, blade-like claws capable of cutting through plate steel up to 1 inch thick
-Grow thick, bone-like armor capable of withstanding sustained fire from a .50 calibur machine gun
-Fling 4-foot long spears made of bone at near sonic speeds
-As of Incident 2424-03, subject has been documented to be able to consume a humanoid entirely by [REDACTED].

Subject is extremely dense, weighing approximately 450kg. Because of this, subject cannot swim, and does not have the capacity to alter its lung function to compensate. In the event of a containment breach, lockdown is to be initiated and the area is to be flooded. Subject also shows an aversion to very bright light and loud sounds, indicating that focused beam weaponry and sonic weaponry may be effective in incapacitating 2424 in the event of a breach.

Talents
2424 has some skill with writing poetry, though samples of his work rarely last for very long. 2424 refuses to write poetry on anything other than his tablet and chalk, and often erases his poems shortly after sharing them with other subjects.

---

---

Looking Deeper
Interview Log 2424-18:
Subject interviewed after 6 days of conditioning. Identity of "Dawn" is unknown.

What do you value most? What (or who) are you most afraid to lose?
I am peaceful. The staff make me behave violently. I don't like that. I miss Dawn. They took me away from Dawn. Where is she?

What was your favorite thing to do, before you were taken?
Dawn and I were going to buy a van and move to Colorado. We almost had enough. Where is Dawn?

What do you want?
Where is Dawn?

---

---

NOTE:
The only part of this that matters to his appearance is the mouth. It was the closest representation I could find. This isn't otherwise a reference to his appearance.

[User]
---

---

Daedalus Corp. 'Site Corinth', 1000 Hours
@GingerBoi123

Dr. Lanel gave a low whistle, fingers tip-tapping away at his note-taking tablet. What he was seeing wasn't nothing - it wasn't exactly something, but the combat applications of Project Ichor might not be worth throwing away entirely. It was obviously no substitute for Project Ajax, but then, what was? The subject's speed and ferocity were, at the very least, something - it was hard to get that kind of aggression out of a super-soldier without a good deal more mental conditioning, under ordinary circumstances. Of course, he hadn't seen enough to save the project from being flushed just yet - that would depend on what happened next. He tabbed over to the RONIN's control panel and began to type, his words appearing in text across the cyborg's vision. To your right, a panel in the wall has just opened up. It contains a UV flashlight of significant intensity. Attempt to use it to subdue the subject.

---

The door opened, and a familiar face greeted her behind it. Pudgy and greying, Dr. Chauncey looked like he belonged in a college classroom, waxing poetic about astrophysics, not in a top-secret lab doing superscience that could affect, as he called it, 'The stuff of reality'. And yet, here he was.

"Iris, my dear! Come in, come in, it's no trouble at all. I've had extra time to get us all set up for the day's experiments. Exciting things are afoot, my dear! With a bit more data, we'll be ready for the Deep Dive." The Deep Dive was what he called the planned excursion into darkspace - 'the whirlpool', as he called it, for the shape of the portal Iris had had a hand in creating. They had made a few forays into darkspace before; that was where the crystals that had saved Iris's life and granted her her abilities had come from, of course - but Chauncey was confident that, with the aid of Iris's unique talents, a portal could be stabilized long enough for a prolonged exploratory mission; one that would, hopefully, help them understand what had happened to her.

He continued talking as the two walked into the lab, droning on about the miraculous achievements they were certain to accomplish together. He took his standard place in front of the monitoring equipment, gesturing for Iris to take hers. "Come along, come along, we have so much to do."

---

A few minutes after mealtime, the door slid open, and three figures stepped into the room. The first two were armed guards, with facemasks on and rifles at the ready - a useless gesture, really. If something happened to make them necessary, they wouldn't have been enough. The third was altogether more interesting - an older woman in a smart suit, her grey hair tied up in a bun, a tablet in her hands. "PBV-2424, I have some questions to ask," she said, and that was strange, since she wasn't one of the doctors who usually came to ask him questions - she didn't look like a doctor at all. She motioned for him to sit down, and then continued without a care if he did, "Have you been in contact with anyone, Daedalus personnel or otherwise, in the past three days?"

---

The Vault door slammed shut, and there came a hiss of steam as it sealed. The inside was all steel and hot, damp metal, poorly lit like an old factory. Three guards wrestled Emmeline forward, kicking and screaming all the way, into the heavy iron apparatus that dominated the room, and forced her to her knees as the device clamped around her neck, wrists and ankles.

"Fuckers!" she screamed. "I'm not afraid of this anymore! I'm not afraid of anything!"

"I believe you," said a low, dispassionate voice, as the Warden stepped into her field of view. He was a young man, with a close brown crew-cut, pale skin, and dead hazel eyes. "Dear, dear, when will you learn to stay out of trouble?"

"Fuck you," Emmeline replied, holding his gaze with a trembling lip.

"Articulate," he sighed, dismissing the guards with a wave and stepping over to a small medical gurney a few feet away. He produced a syringe, tapping it with a finger. "I assume you know what this is?"

"A coagulant agent, so you don't bleed out," She replied, adopting an exaggerated german accent. "You creepy Nazi fuck."

"That's a new one," he mused in his thorougly regionless American accent. "But yes, I see you're familiar with the process. So familiar, in fact, that I put in a request for more advanced mental conditioning procedures, tried and tested in the Proteus Project. Won't you be a good little dog then? But, unfortunately, the paperwork is not in yet. So, until next time you end up here, we will have to make do with the old ways of behavioral modification. And who knows, maybe if that doesn't work, we'll get some of the little girls upstairs and give them the same, until you learn to behave?"

"Fuck. You."

The Warden chuckled, produced a simple drill-like tool from the gurney, and revved it up.

[Assistant]
The dark-haired girl relaxed when she saw him, illuminating with a gentle glow wholly absent before. In a corporate institute that often felt very strange to her, Doctor Michele Chauncey was her one constant support. While frequently absent-minded, he seemed to be fascinated with the odd crystals that had enabled her to survive the accident that had ended her family's lives and the powers they seemed to have granted her. Still he was mindful of her needs and rarely refused her more reasonable requests without an explanation. Iris - Elaine - knew that he saw her, and for that reason rarely drew him up short when he grew so rapt in his work that he called her by her project name. In truth, she rarely thought of herself as Elaine these days. It was easier to be Iris, here.

Riding into the test chamber on a wave of Dr Chauncey's impassioned rambling, Iris smiled and nodded at the appropriate moments and sat on her usual seat. There she ran her fingers through her hair, parting it at the centre and exposing the ebon crystal where it protruded from the crown of her head. Given the choice she always swept up her air to conceal it from view and the Doctor had helped her with a thin electrum cap that helped to keep her powers from surging uncontrollably outside of a safe environment. At his nod, she removed it and set it aside and felt at once the dark energies seeping into the crystal network running through her body.

"Alright my dear, we're going to start our experiments today with what we looked at on Friday," he began. Chauncey was always very careful to explain to her well in advance what he planned to do, linking it carefully to what they had done before so that she could make the appropriate connections. She noticed with a small mental sigh that he had the cameras set up to record again. That meant this was a demonstration for Doctor Chauncey's bosses. She had to be on her best behaviour today to help him justify continuing to help her, he had explained, which meant that this would likely be a full session of testing and that she wouldn't have a chance to ask about the strange tablet in her breakfast. Maybe she could convince him to stay and talk once the testing was done? Wait, what was that? Oh yes, he was finally getting to this session's new business so the girl listened intently

"So today we will begin with this apple," he pointed. "Open a portal, as thin as you can, reach through and take it in your hand. Hold it there while I perform some measurements, but be sure to tell me if it begins to hurt. Do you understand, Iris?"

"Yes Doctor," she nodded and her grey eyes unfocused. Doctor Chauncey had a theory about darkspace, that it grew progressively more dangerous the deeper through it the portal's pathway went. To that end he had been trying to help her visualise a pathway limited to the theoretically safer higher frequencies and it was this that she did now; clutching at the dark energies as they flowed from her chakra to the faceted chips embedded in her fingertips. Then she reached into the stitches that underpinned the lab - sending his instruments screaming - and tore open a gossamer-edged ring of nothing as well as its twin above the good Doctor's fruit bowl.

Stretching out an arm, she reached through the black before her and watched as her hand reappeared ten feet away to grab the firm green apple between the pears without hesitation. She patiently watched as the Doctor measured the lengths of her arm, poked some kind of syringe into the void and waved a glowing scanning device all around her and the fruit. It didn't feel like much of her was exposed to darkspace. That thin band of skin was bitterly cold, but it was going numb. Not sore. That was okay, right?


[System]
Appearance:
Tupp is, like any ratling, short, stout, and weaker than an average human, however, he carries himself with a confidence and bravado far beyond his stature. He is often seen smoking, drinking, or eating.

The most striking feature, besides his obvious mutant status, is the seemingly poorly kept prosthetic replacing his left leg. It creaks softly with each step, and is clearly starting to rust.
Age:36

Gender:Male

Former Occupation: Abhuman auxiliary
Equipment: 1 "Long-las" sniper rifle
1 set of ill-fitting flak armor
1 las-pistol
1 oversized camo-netting suit
4 "hot shot" power packs
Variety of snacks, cooking spices, smokeables
Notable Events: Tupp McKennan distinguished himself fighting a chaos incursion when he was cut off from his own squad while they were performing a scouting mission. Over the course of four weeks he hampered the advance and actions of the cultist force, sabotaging supplies, eliminating key targets, and killing enemy patrols and scouts. Tupp's luck and skill nearly failed him as he was hunted down by an ever increasing number of cultists, and he was nearly killed by enemy explosives. He was found by Imperium forces, half dead, buried in mud, and with a missing leg. However, thanks to his actions, they were able to successfully force back the enemy, and Tupp received commendations for his actions.

Time With Inquisitor:Tupp has spent a little time with the Inquisitor. Long enough for him to start raiding supplies when he thinks he can get away with it, and make passes at whoever he thinks he won't get in too much trouble for flirting with.

[User]
+ENVIROMENTAL UPDATE PROCESSING, OUTER SCAN AND DIAGNOSTICS PROGROMS RUNNING+

A distinct pattern of whirs and beeps could be heard emitting from the figure swathed in long, thick light red robes. The hunched figure stepped out of the transport with a series of audible and heavy clanks, signalling that he was most likely heavier than his size suggested. On his back sat a largely moitonless pack, a myriad of mechanical arms folded and dormant against it, save for one thick metallic limb ending in a powerful servo claw which held a data-slate before the figure with surprising delicacy as he scrawled over it with his organic left hand. His righthand was currently a simple three fingered 'hand'. It simply spun and whirred in place, largely idle. Cables ran from his back to what seemed to be a glowing panel sticking out from his chest.

+INITIAL SCANS COMPLETE. AIR - TERRAN ANALOUGE, NON-TOXIC, REDUNDANT SCRUBBERS DEACTIVATED FOR POWER CONSERVATION.+

A burst of binary emitted from his cyberneic throat, and behind him now walked two servitors. The braindead automatons each carried a pair of extremely large crates with Mechanicus seals on them and followed the Tech Priest closely. He saddled up alongside the Inquisitor as he spoke with the sisters. He scarecly gave the Sisters themselves a glance but lingered on their armour, weapons and vehicles for a short time before returning to his data-slate. It was impossible to tell however if he was even reading it, for his 'eyes' didn't move. Three bright green orbs could be seen beneath the hood where several large cables ran into, as further bursts of binary mixed witht he whirring and beeping of his systems as he ran his routine checks upon landing

+GRAVITY LEVELS - 97% SURFACE GRAVITY COMPARED TO TERRA. 22% TO MARs.+
+PLANET CLASSIFICATION - SHRINE WORLD+
+OXYGENATION OF-+
+NATIVE TOXIN COUNT 8-+
+ATMOSPHERIC DENSITY OF-+

He largely ignored the stream of new data, having loaded much of it into his cogitators already, but letting his mechanical parts acclimate from both pre and post landing was a redundant if extremely important ritual for him. He largely ignored the gunfire and general chaos, aside from noting calibers, likely makes, weapon origins, and the myriad of violations to holy machines he could see in the immediate area. The Arbites had illegally modified their Taurus to increase its speed as well as attaching further, non-regulation armoured plating. All minor, all things he would bring up as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Machine spirits must be livid. As the Inquisitor and Sister spoke his cogitators picked out anything interesting or of even minor use to him. Notes about a possible cult, meaning a high likely-hood of illegal Tech heresy, as well as possible unique mutant specimens for study. He largely ignored the overal conversation, most if it largely pointless to him, aside from the names of those now missing in addition to the Inquisitor they had been sent to find.

As they were beckoned to board the Rhino's another burst of binary sent the servitors to the second Rhino to place and secure his precious cargo within. Ortiz himself accompanied the Inquisitor and sat directly next to him, still recording and analyzing the conversation around him. He largely disregarded the Inquisitors promise of safety, he knew the shpeell by heart seeing as he had recorded it the first time it had been uttered to him five years past. It was reassuring, but a sentiment Ortiz saw as unnecassary. His arrangement of sleeping quarters was... odd, and Ortiz made a memo to inquire further about it later during an examination. As the Inquisitor finished speaking the Tech Priest finally dayned to lift his head to the Sister Superior, a burst of binary filling the air before he seemed to pause, as if he were switching gears, before speaking in gothic tinged by and filtered through his vox. +I wil require several things in order to - 1. Aid in Inquisitor Karthis' investigation - 2. Provide medical services for him and other Inquisition personnel - 3. Continue my research. I will need access to all records available to you, as well as your medical facilities and a location to set up my laboratory.+, he paused again, as if cycling through to his next statement so unpractised he was at using it. +I am Genetor Ortiz Freelon, of the Adeptus Mechanicus - Sup division Adeptus Biologis.+, a short introduction no doubt added in the hopes of better speaking with non-Tech Priests.

[Assistant]
Elijah followed the Inquisitor out of the ship, and let him do the talking with the Sister Superior and the rest. He mindlessly nodded in agreement to whatever Karthis was saying to the Sister Superior, as he was too busy taking in the majesty and wonders of the Shrine World they just landed at. In all his (relatively few) years in the Guard, he never occupied a Shrine World before, he barely had any idea they were this breathtaking. To an Agri-Worlder, anyway.

Of course, his amazement was wrenched away from him when the sounds of autogun fire and the odd explosion reached his ears. Shoved back to reality, he reminded himself to check his lasgun when Sister Laedi was finished. When Ortiz was requesting a space for himself and his duties, Elijah made a mental note to ask the Tech-Priest if he was even doing his rites correctly. He was pretty sure he remembered the ritual for cleaning lasguns, but his Merovech pattern was unusual. It would be smart to ask from someone who knows what he's talking about if it perhaps required special rites and he's been doing it wrong the entire time.

Boarding the Rhino, he was mildly amused by the sheer size of it, both inside and out. He was quite used to the cramp interiors of a Chimera; it was a nice change of pace. Almost pleasant. He was particularly, visibly amused when he remembered that this is the exact same type of vehicle the Angels of Death rode about in when necessary.

He sat in Rhino alongside the Inquisitor, sitting on the opposite bench and facing the Inquisitor, the Vindicare Jessica, and the Genetor Ortiz. As everyone else was loading up, he decided to strike up some work-related conversation while inspecting his Merovech. Turning the safety on and preparing to eject its two power packs, he asked "Hey, do these Rhinos have Lasgun ports?" while he set the power-packs on his lap. Unscrewing the barrel, he continued onto the actual mission. "So, ain't meanin' to be rude or nothing, but we've any theories on what we could be goin' up 'gainst, Mister Karthis? I know our primary ob-ject-ive is to find this fellow Inquisitor, Valgone." Elijah began using a clean rag to wipe away at the barrel's focusing lens. "If he is... unavailable to continue his duties when we find out what happened to 'im, are we s'posed to finish his job for 'im? Don't mind, just wondering's all."

He shrugged when examining his work on the lens and began to screw it back in. "I ain't got any theories myself, I'm quite obviously new to this whole Inquisiting thing so's, I'm not gonna assume nothin'". He then set out to fulfill his mental note from earlier. "Hey, not trying to bother, Mister Freelon, but do these Merovech patterns require any special care or rites? It's obvious I gotta inspect two power packs and all that. But, if you got any expertise on the matter I'd like to be enlightened on anythin' else, if it ain't too much to ask."

[User]
The Squat yawning walked out of the ship, stretching his hands and by reflex his mechadendrite too. Eyes hazy, he looked at the Sisters of battle. "The nutters," he thought. He was quite faithful to the Imperial Cult, but anyone with five minutes outside of authority's influence would guess that, much less someone who grew up outside of direct Imperial authority. Lighting up a pipe and pouring down a bit of Lho-stick powder into it, he nodded approvingly at the shooting. A sign of soldiers not slacking, he thought.

 "Oh just mole-morta...." He started and nearly instantly stopped as the flame cult in the Executioner's Square came up. "You've been out of the guild for decades." he thought to himself. He really needed to work on getting those habits out of his system. Yankel would listen intently, and go into the Rhino as instructed. It seemed one of the members of the party was already talking to the Inquisitor, so the half-man would have to ask for slightly larger quarters later. His face would go into an expression of digust and contempt at the sight of the Tech-Priest. If he was like any other of his kind, they would not get along well.

 When the topic of sleeping quarters came up, he perked up. He had to ask the Inquisitor about some more room for his "projects." After all, the space for his tinkering is where the 'magic' happened. Besides, he need it for his personal... projects. The legacies of his people that he still had, and must work on. He knew he was speaking out of place, but better now than never. "Oh err, can I have some more space too? I need it for all the repairs and things I do, what." Finishing his words, he would let out a thin ring of smoke into the air, satisfied and lean back.

[Assistant]
Tupp McKennan strode from the ship, stopping a moment to take in his surroundings. With a sigh he took in his surroundings. He'd been to a couple shrine worlds once before in his days in the Guard. They didn't hold his attention long. This one wasn't much different, though his hopes were high for Sector 8. Tupp took a place next to his fellow abhuman, feeling a vague sense of camaraderie with the squat, despite hardly ever speaking to him upon the squat's joining of Karthis's entourage. Tupp hardly paid attention to the priests and pilgrims, but he watched the sister superior and her subordinates. Of course, he knew that the Emperor botherers were disdainful of his kind at the best of times, so he didn't say anything to draw their attention just yet.

Tupp, however, paid close attention to what was said, in case he would need to make use of the information. It seemed like he wasn't going to have any chance to 'investigate' Sector 8 as he had hoped. The fighting had already broken out, and he turned to face the sound of the autogun's sharp cracks in the air. 'Like being back with the regiment.' Tupp thought as he watched the Arbites vehicle speed off into the city. The familiar sound of Imperial Guard rocket launchers firing in the distance served to strengthen the comparison. He shrugged, uncaring about the fortified square. It wasn't his problem.

Approaching the rhino, Tupp smiled to hear he was under Inquisitorial protection. Immediately he produced several lho sticks, sticking one in his mouth and lighting it, before proffering one to the squat on his right, and another to the Vindicare nearby. He didn't believe for a second that either would take him up on the offer, but it was still best for him to take care of his own, however new they were. When they reached rhino, Tupp couldn't help but stare up, it towered over him, much more than even a chimera. Tupp shook his head and clambered in, finding a seat to pull himself up and into. Tupp could understand why the inquisitor would want such a thing as sleeping quarters. Even without it serving as a mobile command base, it's size was positively luxurious compared to the kind of places Tupp would usually be stuck in when he was in the guard.