[System]
Age: 24

Physical Appearance: Josef is a rather lean individual, but still has some muscle and strength to him. His hair is a cross between blond and brown, often appearing different depending on the lighting, and he dons an officer's moustache on his upper lip. His black military uniform is crisp and neatly pressed, with his parade and dress uniform adorned with shining medals from both the now-gone Austro-Hungarian Military, and the Borovian Blackshirts.

Unit Profession: Officer

Personality: Josef is an officer to his men first and foremost, and to the Baron second. He works to ensure that the orders he gives have his men's best interests in mind, and if his orders would lead to death or harm for his troops, he does not hesitate to contradict them. He works to maintain a good relationship with his men, wanting them to trust and have faith in him, as well as putting his own trust and faith in them. He sees working with the Blackshirts as a method of bringing stability to a troubled land, and he hopes that if Borovia can be made stable and intact, it can be either reunited with Austria, or perhaps inducted into Germany.

History: Originally a citizen of Austria-Hungary, Josef was among those in-between the working class and the nobility, wealthy but not of high birth. As such, in an attempt to push forward their social careers, Josef's parents enrolled him in an Officer's Academy once he came of age. By the time he had graduated and received his commission, the Great War was in full swing, and Josef found himself at the front lines of the Italian campaign. By the time the war came to an end in 1918, Josef had achieved the rank of Hauptmann, as Well as a Silver Medal of Bravery First Class, a Bronze Medal of Bravery, and a Karl-Cross. Eventually, the collapse of Austria-Hungary would occur, and Josef would find that his home no longer lied in his beloved Austria, but instead in a newly-formed, independent state known as Borovia. Despondent at the loss of his country and state, Josef took to the one thing he knew best: commanding forces. He used his status as both an officer and the heir to a wealthy family, and gained a commission in the Baron's Blackshirts, being given command over a special force drafting mercenaries, loyal citizens, and defectors from other nations.

Equipment:
Mannlicher M1895 Rifle, with Bayonet
Frommer Stop handgun
Infantry Saber
Officer's Spotting Binoculars

Prominent Skills: Josef is a skilled field officer, capable of properly and skillfully organizing troops and planning battles. He's also a skilled parade formation organizer and commander, and a trained user of the rifle, pistol, bayonet, and saber. He speaks German fluently, and can give orders and receive reports in Hungarian and Czech.

Other: Prefers to be addressed as 'Herr Hauptmann' if the subordinate speaks German, otherwise he accepts either the Czech or Hungarian word for Captain, or failing that, the subordinate's native word for Captain.

[User]
Josef nodded to Karl and Erich as they followed him, noting their polite startings to conversation. "There's likely some communist influence in these strikes, but I doubt we'll know unless we take some of them prisoner, which we likely will."

Noting that Erich had spoken to Karl, Josef turned to take to his gear, gathering his rifle and officer's sword, his pistol having already been on him. All three weapons had been his during the Great War as well, and so they bore a bit of customization and identification. The rifle's sights had been modified to measure in meters rather than the old paces, while the stock bore a carving of his name, and several tally marks from kills. The saber was well cared for, as was the sheath, the metal still just as bright as the day it was issued. Josef took these weapons, latching them over him, and once Karl and Erich were ready, heading out towards where Servác kept the truck.

Approaching the truck, Josef called out to Servác. "I hope you're ready to go, everyone else is." If they were, he'd climb into the rear of the truck, and after helping everyone else in, give the signal to go.

[Assistant]
If Pyotr had heard Josef mention communism, he'd likely have had a few words to say on the topic of the Bolsheviks, none of them good. As it was, he was none the wiser as he met up with the rest of the crew at the front of the building, happy as ever. Riding what his thing, so he often claimed, and he found it hard to imagine a better time than riding full-speed on the back of a sturdy steed. Maybe fucking a nubile and eager lady, of course, as many men might agree, but it'd be a very close second, if that.

'I know I am!' he called, having heard Josef yell over at Servác. Nice guy. That said, he trotted Varvara over to stand by Karl, glancing down at the tall German with a grin on his face. It was funny, really - you could be as tall as you wanted, and yet a man on a horse would still tower over you. 'So Karl,' he uttered, 'are you ready to keep these silly peasants in line? Varvara has been cooped up for very long, so she is extremely eager to stomp them under her hooves! Maybe. She is a horse, so perhaps yes, perhaps no.'

[User]
"They are weapons," said Karl simply. "Excellent peices of proper German engineering, yes, but weapons nonetheless. I take care of them, they serve me well, and they live with the other weapons where they have company." He laughed and patted the butt of the gun gently, turning to the good captain. "They're always communists. Bastards."

"As for why I seriously keep them in the armoury? It is where they are safest. Attempting to raid the baron's armoury is a death sentence. My room in the barracks? Less so, especilly since I'm normally in a much more feminine room every night." He winked as he chatted to Erich, before rapping his stahlhelm heavily.

"Ja, let us get going!"

He smiled as the Russian approached. The man was a little odd, that much was clear, but funny, yes. A little bit in the clouds but good where it counted. "I think a good horse like Bavaria-" Karl had long since given up calling the horse its true name. The province was much easier for him to pronounce, and more memorable "should always be ready to stamp on some enemies of the state. Isn't that right?"

He hefted himself up imto the back of the van, hammering on the bench and shouting. "Servác, my good man! Let's get this show on the road!"

[Assistant]
"Fine pieces of German engineering, indeed they are." he said, looking to it.
"Solid, beautiful and reliable. German engineering never let me down."
"Although i must say that i grew quite fond of this one here." he said, holding his m1890 and looking through its telescopic sight.
"Its quite enjoyable to shoot with."

"As for why I seriously keep them in the armoury? It is where they are safest. Attempting to raid the baron's armoury is a death sentence. My room in the barracks? Less so, especilly since I'm normally in a much more feminine room every night."

"True... Although i do enjoy to give my equipment a more... personal care, if you understand what i mean.""Feminine rooms eh? That explains the big smile on your face every time i see you!" he said, laughing.

As he got out of the armoury together with Karl and Josef, meeting with Pyotr and Servác outside.
"Lets go then. Try to not get shot, i don't particularly enjoy having to sew your asses back together." he said with a grin, in a playful tone as he climbed back into Servác's truck.

[User]
After checking the truck over for any overt signs of dysfunction Servác starts up the engine, and after nothing breaks begins attempting to visualize the route that will take do these instructions. He mouths the words as he reads them, not entirely comfortable with the written language, but he has no problems understanding it.

Servác was caught out of his mental visualization of the route they would be taking by Josef's call. He watched to check and make sure of the Hauptmann's seating before shifting his bag into the passenger side seat as well as the standard issue weapons. Waiting, watching, and listening as the others boarded, or in the case of the other Slav arrive. Trying to ignore Karl's hammering and shouting, while waiting for the Hauptmann's signal and when given taking the Truck out to drive off on the known route.

Servác makes an effort to ensure a distance between Varvara and his truck, having seen some of the awful things that become of vehicles which have gotten caught in with larger animals. Also partly because the beast probably didn't deserve that either, on second thought.

[Assistant]
"Jawohl!" Bruno thundered with a crisp salute at the confirmation of his commanders instructions. With a spin on his heels Bruno marched out of his office toward his next orders. He had been reassigned to another unit within the Blackshirts. Unfortunately he wasn't given much of a briefing on his orders other than breaking up a "military disturbance". Bruno was relatively new to the blackshirts, but not the lifestyle. Due to the mandatory conscription of all boys in Switzerland he had already got a good taste of what was to be expected. In his opinion, the flavor was good. His father had been in the military most of his life, but like Bruno, had never experienced any real foreign threat. Bruno couldn't say he wasn't at least a little nervous, considering this may be one of the first times he had encountered any real danger.

 Upon exiting the office, Bruno grabbed his K11 rifle leaning against the corner of the wall. He brought the leather strap attached to the rifle over his shoulder and picked up his kit that was laying next to it. His uniform was sharp, very sharp, and he knew it too. His uniform and kit made him feel dynamic and powerful. However, he couldn't relish this moment for too long, he had an assignment to complete. Bruno left the building and jogged at a reasonable pace to where the rest of his unit was located.

 First, he saw the truck. With an acute intuition, he assumed that the rest of his unit was inside. Bruno moved up to the rear of the truck and peeked inside with his free hand before the truck drove off and his unit left him behind.

 "Bruno Leuthard reporting! I was reassigned to Herr Fichter's unit last minute. I hope I'm in the right place!" he said confidently over the noise from the truck's engine.


[System]
Gender: Female
Age: 19

Appearance/Physical Description: Tall, slim, and blond. Jacel has a thin, angular face, with tired green eyes. She looks, quite rightly so, as someone who doesn't get a proper meal very often. The hair on her head is sheared extremely close to her scalp, and she covers her head with a blue headscarf, in the fashion of the Southerlings that have lived in the Old Kingdom now for nearly a century. She chose this as it allows her to cover her tainted charter mark without attracting very many questions.

She dresses in an amalgamation of clothing from both sides of the wall, and many walks of life. Her boots and trousers are those of a Crossing Point Scout. Made in the military style of Ancelstierre, but by hand so that they can withstand being in the Old Kingdom. She wears a button-up shirt that is faded and colorless. Over this is the bandolier of bells, signature to a Necromancer. Her belt is brown, and the seven handles that stick out of the pouches are of sandalwood, the bells themselves are brass. Her bells are typically covered by a wide triangular cloak, similar to a poncho. This she got from a band of Travelers, and it bears their clan markings and sigils embroidered in the fabric. Her head, over top the blue scarf, is adorned with a wide brimmed hat, the left side being pinned up in a cavalier fashion.

She has a sword belt on her waist as well, hanging with a plain shortsword that is Charter spelled. With the Free Magic flowing in her veins now, it hurts her to wield it and she only does so out of desperation.

Personality: "Curiosity killed the cat," one ought to say to her. When she was a child she would reply snarkily "Satisfaction brought him back." But, though still young, she's come to see her thirst for knowledge as a bit of a weak point for her. She's not a "watch and wait" kind of person, she has a need to do and experience. And so she isn't satisfied to explore the theoretical, hence her impatience with Wyverly's magical curriculum.

This is underlined by a compassion that has been born from seeing too many bad things happen(and causing some of them). Her time with her Master has left her less than willing to continue in the more traditional veins of Necromancy. Instead, she wishes to use her powers for good. She has a feeling like she needs to atone for past wrongs, and habitually sacrifices her own recovering Charter Mark to do so.

History/Background: Born Bethany Hooke in Ancelstierre, the Necromancer who would later be known as Jacel was a native of Bane. She came from a well off family that had long lived in the Northern part of the country, and grew up on stories of superstition and magic about the Wall and what was beyond. It was a subject she was immensely curious about, and so was always willing to hear scary stories of times that things had come across(though it never happened during her childhood).

She attended Wyverly College, and was all too happy to jump to the magic lessons that were taught this close to the wall. But she found it lacked something, she wasn't sure what. Some element of the stories and superstitions she had been told just seemed to be missing. She hungered for it, but couldn't place what it was. For two years at school she studied hard, but still found her magical education lacking. Over this time she fantasized about running away to the Old Kingdom, but it wasn't until she was fourteen that she finally did it.

Getting across was easier than it should have been. She put on a blue head scarf and hid in a group of refugees who were being forced across. Not only did the army not stop her, but they actually helped her!

The refugees were beset by all sorts of nefarious characters shortly after being shuffled across, but little Bethany Hooke was the only one among them with a Charter Mark, and so she attracted the worst of the attention.

Even these days, Jacel believes she was lucky with who got to her first. A Necromancer looking to recruit an apprentice. Anyone else might have killed her, she reflected later. Used her Charter Mage's blood for ritual, taken her soul and body for their own purposes. Instead, she learned those same dark arts that could easily have been used upon her. By age fifteen she had walked in the First Precinct, and eschewed her own true name.

By seventeen, her master had gone missing. She didn't know where, he often left to go about his own business, leaving her with tasks to complete. It was months before she realized he wasn't coming back this time. She set out on her own, but didn't have a clear plan at the time. Since then, it's become clear that her kind is wanted in very few places. Without the influence of her teacher, her own better nature was able to blossom, and she tried to use her powers for good. She would ring Kibeth to walk the dead back where they belonged, or Ranna to quiet a graveyard. Once she even used Belgaer to discover the identity of a man's murderer, and inform his family.

In some places she has gained a sort of respect. She is called Jacel the Impure, a semi-derogatory title. They dislike her powers, but these are places out of the way, where the Abhorsen doesn't come very often, and she is often their best defense against the dead.

Jacel wants to put Free Magic behind her, but she finds it hard not to use the Bells when she finds a village beset by the Dead.

Skills: Necromancy and Free Magic Adept. Novice swordfighter, she had classes at Wyverly, but had only taken one year before running away.
She knows a novice level of Charter Magic, but accessing the Charter is exceedingly difficult for her, nearly impossible.

[User]
Toriel stared at her father...in a puddle of crimson blood. She was standing there, holding a bushel of flowers she'd brought for him. They were Sunflowers.

He loved Sunflowers.

She dropped the flowers and walked towards him, in a daze.

"Pa...pa..." she said, like a broken doll.

She tripped on a sword, HIS sword, and fell into the puddle, her white sleeves soaking up red blood.

She whimpered and crawled closer. Trying to call for help, she sent out a flare of Charter Magic, out the broken window. Holding her fathers head in her hands, she tried to sit up and shook violently, waiting for someone to see the flare for help.

[Assistant]
Navis

The chief of the village, an elderly man, rushed to meet the paperwing that came fluttering down with the grace of a live bird, its eyes shutting as the Charter Magic that powered it was cut off and the rider climbed steadily out of the transport. He was dressed for battle with the traditional symbols of his esteemed lineage but the slowness in his movements could not be mistaken for anything except for what it was: old age. His beard was a storm grey as was his close-cut hair but there was a strength in his body and although he moved cautiously there was strength and purpose in his actions; this old Abhorsen still had plenty of life in him yet.

"Where?" He asked, shortly. The village chief nodded, not questioning his esteemed visitor's shortness. When the Abhorsen came in a Paperwing dressed for battle, looking tired from a long journey, then pleasantries were merely a waste of time. The chief guided the Abhorsen to where two horses were held by his fellow villagers, also mounted on their own animals. They were work beasts, stocky and slow as opposed to the lean gallopers messengers and warriors used but they would serve their purpose well enough.

The Charter stone being watched by two more of the villagers, a little out of the town and closer to the chief's village but due to the thick forests all around it had been easier for the Abhorsen to land at Navis and then continue on foot or horseback.

"Nothing yet." The elder of the pair greeted them, noticing their grim but determined faces. "The body looks to have been there a good few days now."

The Abhorsen went alone and on foot to examine the stone and the corpse still crucified upon it. He circled the stone before gesturing for the village chief to join him. All of the villagers looked ill from their proximity to the broke Charter stone but the chief had weathered much in his time and made no sign of his unease.

"Have you seen any of the Dead?" The Abhorsen asked and the man nodded.

"Yes, sir. Not many and out of the village proper, sir. When we go back there's nothing left, no trace. Their tracks just stop, like they disappeared. One of the young lads says he saw a lass camping around here. Says she had bells on her, sir." He spoke the last words in a whisper as if mentioning the devices might bring the Dead down upon them. The Abhorsen stared at the stone, shifting his shoulders as he prepared for the exhertion ahead of him.

"See if your young lad can find her again. I'll need to have a word with her."


[System]
Gender: M

Age: 19

Primary Power: Telepathy Specialty

Personality:

Peaceful, friendly, and sensitive. Takes things at his own pace and tends to live in the moment. He's devoted to the people in his life and is not inclined to debate, disliking disagreements. He is attuned to small variations in the physical world and highly aware of balance, understanding what does and doesn't fit. He is emotionally well-rounded and empathetic toward others.

Skills:

Sneaking out of his room has given Daz some skills in being stealthy. Daz loves to paint, and greatly enjoys art in general. He is fluent in French and has some skill in other languages acquired while trekking across Europe.

Bio:

Daz was born in Bristol, in the UK, and grew up there with his eldest brother who would go on to be a YouTuber of some reknown. At age 15 he first discovered his powers when he began reading his teacher's thoughts to find the answers to her quizzes. His powers gradually began to grow from there; teleporting from his room to the bathroom in the mornings, reading the muted emotions of his parents to know when they were sleeping, and then summoning his panicked cat to him. Inevitably, he turned to the Net for answers, which was where he first found another like him. At first his searches turned up no satisfactory results, but then he was contacted by fantalazy86, a man- he assumed it was a man- who just so happened to be an internet genius keeping an eye out for people with powers like himself. He told Daz he was in contact with 12 others and gave some advice on how to use and hide his powers. He also informed Daz that every now and again one of their kind, Deviants he called them – as in deviation from normal humans – would disappear, and he advised keeping a low profile.

Before moving on with his education to go to uni, Daz went on a trip with several of his friends across Europe, starting in Portugal with plans to stop and meet fantalazy86 in person while in Germany. He never made it that far, he was suddenly being chased across the streets of a small town just outside Lyon by uniformed men with American accents. Foolishly he refused to use his powers in front of people until he had no other choice and in the process of being tackled he vanished in the middle of a large crowd. His reappearance at the edge of the town did not mean his escape, as he had transported the man with him. A sharp pain saw the world fade from view, and then he was waking up in a white room to the sound of running water.

EXTRA INFO:

Relationship Status: Single

Relationship Preferences: Pan/Open

Likes: Cats, Books, Sweets, Tea

Dislikes: Coffee, Dogs, Cold, Bullies

Health: None.

Other Important Information:

His brother, Sean Quirke, is a YouTuber of some fame, Daz's disappearance has not gone unnoticed by him, and thus not unnoticed by his viewers. Daz owns a homemade time-turner necklace with his initials carved into it, he informed his contact in Germany to look for it when they met up. It was confiscated when he was captured, but his attachment to the object means he will seek to reclaim it.

[User]
Daz led the charge for the most part, being the first one on the stairs with the others porting in just behind him. But he was quickly overtaken by several of the faster prisoners. His steps faltered unsteadily as he felt another death, a sickening feeling in his gut, but it wasn't one of the Deviants at least. With every step he cast his mind out as far as it could reach, taking in everything he could find. There! Daz snatched the stray half-thought from one of their pursuers; "Mr. Whittemore is going to be pissed-" A name! Mr. Whittemore... who the hell is that?

Yeah, keep it together. I will survive this! He mustered as much determination as he could, but he was being buffeted on all sides by quick, panicked thoughts and powerful, erratic emotions. It was hard to keep focused.

Then he noticed a really sickening thought; "Better than cutting them open at least-" Accompanying the thought was an image of a young girl who had been cut up like a frog in a school lab. They were going to do that to us...? Daz felt sick at the mere notion of being dissected, to have it thrust in his in all the detail of a memory- "Shit!" He cursed fearfully. He flinched as another wave of pain and death washed over him. Seven, he thought, his anxiety building. He'd never thought it was this bad, he'd been sitting in his cell for three days imagining he was just going to be poked and prodded for blood samples, not murdered!

One of the Deves ahead of him was a dark haired woman about his age, and judging by the sheer damage she wrought on the door her impressive telekinetic abilities far surpassed his own. At least they were out, he followed the flow of relieved Deviants out into the fresh air. It was wet, as if it had just rained, and they were in a field beside a large concrete warehouse. Not far was the treeline, tall, thin evergreens forming a ring around the empty grass. The ground sloped sharply just before the wooded area, going into a steep, rocky incline. Mountains could be seen in the distance, and Daz got the feeling they were at the base of one.

A loud, harsh rushing sound assaulted his ears, forcing him to take note of the large waterfall behind the complex. He'd been avoiding the thought, but faced with this landscape, the accents, and a name like 'Toketee', it seemed they were most definitely in America, Oregon must be a state then. He doubted he could safely teleport all the way home from here, but he was willing to give it a try. His attempt quickly failed, maybe it was too far, maybe not, but his powers wouldn't reach beyond the glade.

Steeling himself to the best of his ability, Daz kept running, moving as fast as he could towards the treeline. Porting doesn't work! He informed his fellow escapees, keep running!

[Assistant]
Bunny was at the base of the stairs when she caught the thoughts of those around echoing with fear, revulsion anger at the death of a girl she'd never met. She might have dwelt on the information a bit longer if she hadn't been so worried about the two younger girls she'd taken charge of and now felt responsible for their safety an survival.

Still needing to recharge her teleportation ability she grabbed her two wards hands to pull them up the stairs an was surprised by the surge of energy she felt flow from them and into her.

"That explains why they kept us separated because we can combine our energy reserves" thought Bunny as she pulled the girls higher up the stairs
And as the trio ascended towards the light Marjorie began to know things about both girls that would have taken days to learn verbally

Their names were Tina an Brittany and were three months apart in age. Neither was skilled in the use of the powers they possessed or even aware that they had any until a few weeks before they were snatched. Both girls were only children raised in loving families like her own; and both were terrified and now leaning one her will for support. This only reinforced a maternal older sister feeling in Bunny making her stronger than she normally could be.

They broke out into the open and Marjorie paused to get her bearings. She saw the falling water which explained the sensation she'd been receiving for a long time now, it was water an lots of it.
 Toketee Falls; now it all makes sense" she thought

Run" Was what she understood when Daz sent his warning

Bunny didn't hesitate and began running for the tree line hoping that distance from the facility would remove the restraint she felt on her power. If that did happen she could teleport herself and her two companions to the mountains on the horizon.

[User]
Lucas flung himself back down the hallway as a hail of bullets crashed into the wall next to him. It was time to get out, they were sufficiently distracted. That was when he started listening to the telepathic shouts. Yup, it's time to get the hell out of here he thought. Hurtling at top speed down the corridors, he picked the minds of the people around him until he found which way was out. He rounded a corner and crashed into a tall woman and a child.
 "Watch where you're going," shouted the lady
 "Really? That's what you're worried about?" Lucas retorted. He dashed up the stair and burst out into the light. Blinded momentarily, he stumbled and crashed into the ground. A running boy grabbed his arm and pulled him up. "Name's ja..." the bullet found his throat and he went down in a spurt of blood. Lucas took that as his que and started sprinting into the woods.

[Assistant]
Running for the tree line was easy enough, dodging the bullets that followed her not so much. Alisha was an adequate runner, and adept at parkor, but this situation with the wet grass, death and gore was making it hard to concentrate on not tripping, falling over, or getting shot. The adrenaline rush was helping, and it gave her the boost of energy needed to telekineticly toss a big log at the group of shooters behind them all. Effectively smashing two of them under the log and distracting the five others for a very short moment. Running she jumped down the incline into the woods. The jump down resulted in a sprained ankle but she ignored the stabbing pain, and kept going, where to she had no idea.

The only information about their whereabouts was that they were in Toketee Oregon. Getting away from the waterfall and bad guys was the number one priority at the moment. She wanted to teleport as far as she could. The fact that she only had those grippy hospital socks on was not helping, as they were soaked through and flopping as she ran. Darting behind the thickest tree she saw, Alisha quickly tugged the socks off and left them. Sure running through a forest barefoot was going to suck, she would probably end up with cuts, but she would be just a tad faster.

Alisha had been to Oregon one time with Mandy over three years ago. It was where they met up in Portland with a man named Dexter who had been a friend of Mandy's and was also a deviant. Hopefully if she could get away from the rushing water, and have a safe hour or two to sore up some energy she could just teleport to Portland for help... Some food and water wouldn't be to bad ether. She tried to teleport but only managed to go about half a yard deeper into the forest. She was low on energy and could still hear the waterfall behind her. She also noticed a rushing creek to the left, which didn't help anything.

She needed to catch her breath so she looked behind her for the pursuers. They weren't visible from where she was running and though she could hear the gunshots off in the distant, there seemed to be less of them shooting off. Alisha leaned against a tree and breathed heavily, sweat dripping down her face, and her feet and legs were covered in mud and pine needles. Her throat was bone dry, and her heart was beating mile a minute. Pushing off from the tree she ran.


[System]
Age: Ancient

Appearance:

(His angelic form. He has a Demon form and a True form, the only differences are that he has evil-ish looking wings, angelic wings, or one of each)

Nature: Independant

Personality: Neveras is a quirky kind of Angel, or Demon. Yes, he believes he is both, but he calls himself Neveras the Angelic Demon. He can be a smartass, a jokester, he is very unpredictable... and even when faced with the impossible, he still thinks he can do the impossible. He can be silly, perverted, macho, and even greedy, but Neveras is only expressing the many traits of the Mortals. For he was created in their realm, on Ceyr, and believes that he is the one to take the Mortals side in discussions, out casting the Creator, even though the Creator created him. Neveras seeks to save the Mortals and bring them back to a flourishing time. However, with the obtaining of all the Mortals feelings, emotions, and personalities, it may have become a backfire, as when he escaped the forbidden sanctuary (Which he calls the Pit), he may have either came out enraged... or uncaring. He may have became greedy with the want for power, or came out just to be out, and no longer cares for his purpose.

Skills and Abilities: Neveras can not be killed by any Upstart, and can only be killed by Mortals. By Ancients (Who remember the cursed seal enchantment), he can only be sealed back inside of his banished realm, which is just a spiritual sanctuary where he is bound eternally until released.

-Neveras has an ancient weapon, which is only a spiritual weapon that he can form into any style he wishes (May it be a sword, a knife, a spear, etc) which he chooses to be a sword. This sword can kill any Angel or Demon, but not those of pure heart. It is also the weapon that Mortals can wield and kill Neveras with it, but in a Mortals hands it can do nothing else. If Neveras dies, the sword dissipates.

-Without Neveras' sacred weapon, he can create a spiritual weapon that has only the power to resist an Angel or Demons attacks, but the spiritual weapon does not give him strength or invincibility or anything, as it only acts as a shield or another sword to clash with another sword. With both weapons, Neveras can take on multiple opponents. However, he is still not all powerful, both weapons only give him the ability to fight multiple Spirits, as with just one or the other weapon, Neveras is weak against multiple opponents.

-Neveras has the ability to heal Mortals from grievous or light wounds, but can not bring them back from the dead.

-Neveras has a created inability, where if he escapes from his Forbidden Sanctuary, without being released, he is still bound in his chains. From this, he is slower, weaker, and does not have his outward abilities such as he is able to pull his Sacred Sword to his hand, locate his sword wherever it may be, and heal Mortals. When he is still bound in spiritual chains, an Upstart can banish him back to his Forbidden Sanctuary, if they know the enchantment.

-His ability to kill other Spirits is defined by how much power he has, which is from how many followers he has. With little to no followers, he can strike any Upstart as long as he has his weapon. The more power he gains, the more likely he can take on even the most powerful Ancients/Gods.

Backstory: The reason for his creation was because Neveras was supposed to create balance between the other Spirits, making sure neither became more powerful than another. Neveras was supposed to be powerful enough to take out those who seek to be One God, or be the complete powerful rulers on Ceyr, this made sure any Mortal and any Spirit may choose the way the life they wish without forcing all Mortals or Spirits to live One Life. If Neveras ever turned towards his darker side, becoming too greedy and wanting to be the very thing he was created to take down, then it was for the Mortals, the Mediums to be granted the ability to outright strike Neveras, for he has no power against them. However, during the battle of Heaven, it was made as the decision to banish Neveras for all eternity. Long before the decision was made, there was always an argument over Neveras' true purpose, for he was unlike the others. Many thought of him as a bad batch, maybe a Spirit who would find a way to kill them all, gain more power. Maybe it was their greed, or their fright, but along with the creation of Neveras... all of the Ancient Spirits were given the knowledge of the seal enchantment, and the enchantment to release him... which Mortals can use, but that meant Neveras also had that knowledge. Unfortunately, any Mortal he gave that knowledge to is surely gone due to the events that occurred while he was sealed away, which is why he never escaped, until now.

The only reason, in fact, that Neveras escaped his eternal containment was because an Ancient (Ancient Angels Neveras sees as ArchAngels) Spirit must be made to stand guard over the spiritual realm of his banishment, giving it power to hold him and keep him weak. But who ever was made to keep the seal strong, was lost, went away, or died. Neveras never got the name of his guard, but over the time he gained more power, and the seal became weaker. Until he escaped, but because of his escape, the seal had burst, which alerted all the Spirits. Telling them Neveras has escaped, and he could gain the power to kill them. Especially in a time like this, where the Spirits are divided, Neveras sees he has been gone for far too long, and everything is unbalanced by a severe degree. However, even aside from the chains, Neveras has not regained his full power. And he won't. Because Neveras was made for the Mortals, he must have followers to regain his true power. He must have many Mortals to use the enchantment to break his chains, and only then, can he find his sacred sword. The sacred spiritual weapon that was also locked away, like him, but no Ancient is left that even knows where it is.

Connections: Hiraga - They have somewhat similar beliefs, where as even if related... if other spirits desecrate something they call sacred, they will fight back. But, not exactly. Neveras still had the views that Mortals can do as they wish as long as they don't hurt each other. While not an enemy, he still acts friendly. (Knows the Seal)

Danives - Neveras and Danives seemed never really seemed to be at each others throats. Even though Neveras fought in the war and Danives tried avoiding it, they never seemed to cross each others paths as enemies in any way shape or form. They considered each other Friends in the past. (Knows the Seal)

Voana - Sees her as a rival and fears there will always be a battle when their eyes meet. Always thought that Voana thought like the others that banished him, one that will become greedy and try to kill all the others. (Does not know Seal)

Sohena - Neveras always had a bit of a crush on her. Before the banishment and War of Heaven, he'd often visit her and bug her; not in a heartless way. She, out of everyone else, knew Neveras wasn't evil or able to become greedy. He was just a smart dumbass looking for fun. ...While he had a crush, she knew, but he never pushed too far. Neveras still has a gentlemanly side to him. (Knows the Seal)

Agimar - Neveras doesn't like him. He doesn't hate him, and he's not first on the list to die, per se... but Neveras just saw him as the asshole that thought with "It's just business." (Knows the Seal)

Yakushi - One of the girls Neveras liked to poke and prod, and by poke and prod, he would always pop in to be silly and make games out of who knows more. Neveras doesn't see her as an enemy, and hopes that they can become friends in this new time. (Does not know Seal)

(Upstarts not listed due to not knowing of each others existences, but Upstarts still get an overwhelming feeling of Neveras escaping his Pit, and are given the knowledge of him and what he can do)

Religion: Neveras once had a scripture on his religion, but if it still exists... it would be a miracle through all of the death and chaos. It told the Mortals of Neveras, that he was a great Warrior who fought for the sanctity and life of all mortal men, who would not allow Fate to determine their lives, but that they would live the way they wished, but they could not harm one another or create any force against another. The scripture still remains, and few Mortals know of it, but they don't know what they should believe.

[User]
Being not much older than forty years of age, Varavana had never experienced Aett or its hellish counterpart. The sudden rush of unique sensation came as a surprise to him, feeling as if his body was beginning to rip its self apart at the metaphorical seams. In almost the same moment he came out from the other side of the ripple, his body morphed and compacted into the much smaller form of a green-feathered owl. Only after the rather sudden transformation did the pain subside. Flight came naturally to Varavana, taking briefly to the air to find an appropriate spot to land.

'What on Ceyr was that...?' The Upstart thought to himself, finding even his vocal capacities reduced, 'It felt like -' he paused in his thought, thinking of a way to describe the ungodly pain to even himself, 'I was being picked apart.' He finished, large yellow eyes squinting in the air. He descended, landing upon the shoulder of Hiraga softly. Of all those present, she was the least likely to swat him after all.

The reflective feathers glinted as Varavana turned his head at an almost 180 degree angle to stares back at where they had come from, large eyes blinking.

'...This is a different world. I cannot connect with the creatures here.' He concluded upon looking around at the vast forest surrounding them and the creatures just out sight. 'It is a wonder I did not revert into whatever state I was in upon my creation.' An idea that was not completely unappealing to the Upstart, but not something he wanted to discover when surrounded by the others.

Varavana looked at the eyes of Hiraga's humanoid form, giving an apologetic tilt of the head. For one such as herself, the simple message of 'sorry' would be easily carried through such a gesture.

[Assistant]
After Gaon Latze's answer, Shoshar looked forward and meandered ahead of him, inhaling the golden air of Aett to taste the abundance of power. He had intended to ignore the upstarts from then on, but his breath caught in his throat upon hearing that Gaon Latze didn't even know his name. He halted in place and slowly turned around to leer at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. Whether it was the look he was given or the realisation of Shoshar's advice, he seemed to partially back off, but Shoshar was not letting him get away with it.

"My...name?" Shoshar started in a low rumble. Shoshar's head emerged from the front of his water bubble. For effect, he spread a layer of sparkling frost over his face in a regal pattern. "Have the mortals in your home lost their respect enough to forget my name!?" Shoshar coiled upwards in front of Gaon to look as big and imposing as possible and fashioned a pair of wings wrought from ice either side of the middle of his body. Looking down at Gaon, he bellowed such that his voice echoed. "I am Shoshar! The Water Dragon! Liege of Storms and Sire of the Seas!" Shoshar showed his teeth and lowered his voice, the impact made clear, "I hold many secrets, but my name is not one. Mortals who dishonour me by forgetting it hold no welcome on the water. See that you do not forget, little fisherboy." Shoshar slithered downwards until he was at eye level with Gaon, melting his crystalline wings back into his water bubble. In this position Shoshar's head was over half Gaon's entire size. Shoshar's breath was much colder on the fisherman's front than the odd climate of Aett. "I made you what you are. I can just as easily revert you to a drowning whelp."

Shoshar tossed his head to one side with a "hmph!" and swam away side to side. Though he hardly perceived it, Shoshar found that he had to put forth more effort than usual to stay angry with Gaon Latze. He had some atmosphere about him that seemed to affect Shoshar's temper.

Up ahead was a sight that even brought Shoshar to quieten. Never had there been such a magnificent and at the same time haunting sarcophagus as the the Fortress of Redemption. Paying respect didn't seem appropriate. This structure demanded respect by its nature. Shoshar didn't know whether he wanted to go further to see the Golden One's corpse. Even if the creator was dead, the aura was uneasy.


[System]
Age: 19

Race: Lizardman

Gender: Male

Appearance:

Lizard Fighter seems like your typical lizardfolk, huge, muscular, and intimidating. Except instead of browns and greens he's ruby red with a cream colored 'underbelly'. He stands at seven feet tall and has the build of a long time laborer, muscles rippling under that naturally tough hide. Some scars do litter his body, focused mostly in the arms and shins, except an obvious quadruple line running diagonally across his face. Barely missing his eyes.

His garb is strange for a lizard man of the deep swamps. Fingerless gauntlets that retained the fur underneath and floofed out at the elbows. A thick hide vest with a fishnet shirt underneath with the same fluffy visibles like his hand protection. Strangely made pants of leather and canvas that left open pockets at his upper thighs, probably due to his tail. Digigrade leather wrappings that had connecting iron kneepads. To hold his ensemble up is a coarse leather belt with a pair of leather bags, one at the hip the other at the small of his back for his stuff.

Height: 7'7"
Eye Color: Emerald Green
Hair Color: None

Personality:
Unlike what Lizard Fighter's gung-ho body looks like, his personality is very laid back. Preferring to lounge and watch others instead of actually doing extra activities with others. Maybe it was because of his reptilian nature, watching and being a lethargic behemoth. Although when he does interact, it's in almost a deadpan manner and incredibly blunt. The reptilian man never sugar-coated what he was saying or thinking. This lack of tact didn't earn him many friends back home.

Despite his supposed laziness, he does get riled up. It's also very easy to do so, a lazy giant with a short fuse isn't very good. This probably ties into his animalistic tendencies, at the hint of aggression or provocation he returns it in force and forcing others to restrain him from going ballistic.

Likes: Warm and Humid Climates, Exotic Foods, Wrestling and Tests of Strength.
Dislikes: Cold Climates, Physical Weakness, Being Provoked.
Hobbies: Trying New Foods, Basking in the Sun, Making Atlas Stones.

History:
Lizard Fighter had the typical upbringing of a lizardman. He was raised in the swamps to the South, learning to care for what the village had as soon as he could walk and speak. He quickly developed a deep seated need to take care of everything he earned considering certain things were harder to come by in a swamp than on dry land. Like quality metal, iron bacteria was plentiful but produced little of that hard metal. Although his people never wanted for food since they knew what to look for.

Unfortunately Lizard Fighter wasn't adept at tracking, or hunting, or gathering non-poisonous substances for the younger tribe members. Eating so much poison gave him a big boost in his resistance to it, it tended to taste good dammit...

He did excel at combat though, each member of the tribe when they reached eight started to learn basic weapon usage. It was here that he took up the lead, wrestling other youths into submission or disarming and knocking them to the ground. His people practiced with clubs, wooden spears, and claws. No metal until they were older so they didn't kill each other by accident.

Of course accidents happen. L.F's rival raked his claws across his twelve year old face, leaving deep cuts that developed into the scars he adorned today. Training and real combat were different however, so he had been sent out years later to experience the world gain the experience needed.

It was at this point L.F received an old knife and a buckler from his chief before being sent on his way. His people weren't blind to the world though and he had heard about Adventurer's. How often they fought and how far they explored. What better profession could there be for the 'savage of the swamp'. He followed rumors and directions to Palisade town, a place of beginnings for Adventurers or so they said.

Adventuring Rank: Porcelain

Equipment:
* Studded Club: A hefty piece of wood with a simple leather binding at the tapered 'grip'. In the bulky head of the club are iron rivets to help concentrate the bludgeoning force into smaller areas for higher damage. Or so the shopkeeper said...
* : A surprisingly huge blade, more like a small beefy sword than a knife, that protects the knuckles of the user with a sharpened guard. It has several cracks along the blade denoting its heavy usage along with a slightly rounded tip.
* Buckler: The smallest of all of the shields, this is strapped to his forearm to leave his hands free. It's a thin piece of iron, dinged up and slightly rusted, with the typical bubble in the middle to ease impacts.
* Leather Attire: Adorning the man were basic leather clothing. Albeit thick and much more crude than what humans normally made. Essentially it was hides turned inside out so the fur was inside, except the collar and hem of the vest.
* Porcelain Adventurer's Tag

Skills:
* Athletic: Living in a swamp has its benefits. You learn how to move through tougher terrain, build strong muscles, and learn how to climb good. Lizard Fighter can perform long leaps, swim easily, climb where others can't, and traverse muddy terrain as if it were a dirt road. Of course the deeper the muck the slower he goes despite being used to it.
* Toughness: Given his reptilian nature he has a tougher physique thanks to his scaled hide. Also thanks to taking many a blow back in his home while growing up. He can shrug off minor hits and mitigates some of the damage of stronger attacks. Either by changing the angle of how they hit or flexing to lessen the impact.
* Poison Resistance: Due to living in a swamp the majority of his life he has become highly resistant to poisonous substances. Prolonged exposure will still affect him but it takes longer than the average human.

[User]
Steppe Archer's smile only brightened at the prospect of their job getting easier with the bright moons being out. It certainly made alleyways more inviting, with each hour passing only making each place a more unsafe place for darkness to dwell. She really did feel like they were doing great, even if this was just a single, well-lit night on the job. If she didn't feel like getting harassed by drunks on a bi-nightly basis was a turn-off, she might well have considered swapping careers...but adventures sounded a lot more fun than guard duty. Still, she wouldn't mind taking a job like this another time, if needed to.

As the time grew nearer for them to end their night off and head to bed, Steppe Archer would yawn and stretch, energy finally having hit its limits. "Yeah, we just...gotta get back to the garrison, get paid, and go to bed." she would say, starting to walk towards the center of town with her companions, then back north to the garrison. It was simple enough to get back, and, with the time limit having just been hit, it was a good time for the nomadic archer to finally bottom out on stamina.

Thankfully, nothing would happen as they entered, the archer stepping forward to say: "We patrolled around, and no trouble sir! We found a drunk, but...he found out that going home was a lot better than spending the night in a cell," she would say, extinguishing her torch and saluting.

[Assistant]
Lizard Fighter kept his eyes and mind on the job at hand. Those reptilian eyes twitching this way and that when something moved. Rats, cats chasing the rats, and some debris shifting in the errant breezes. The girls talked again, getting a mental sigh from the male. Oh, they were saying it was time to get back to the garrison to report. Great! He walked with them, just because the shift was over didn't mean they wouldn't be dragged into something else.

Thankfully things stayed quiet, the return trip uneventful as they made their way into the barracks. The Archer Girl was finally losing energy after her big yawn. So there was a bottom to that particular well, huh? Like the others he dropped off the torch and shield and made his way to the captains office.

Archer Girl gave a good enough synopsis about the nights events. A little vague though. "The drunk was arguing with the tavern keeper and some intimidation made him run home." He clarified as the Guard Captain nodded and handed the group the paper to give the Guild. Which was probably closed up for the night.

Lizard Fighter pocketed the parchment before leaving the building with the two girls. "Alley camping or an inn?" He asked, obviously not caring which the group did.

[User]
After having returned their equipment, and the archer and lizard gave their report to the Captain, who olny nodded in acknowledgement, Druid Girl felt no need to add anythinbg more. The details about what the drunk had been arguing about, and his lewd comments about her chest, didn't need to be mentioned. Still the Captain sighed a bit when there was mentino of intimidation.

"Well, better than having you beaten him over the head and drag his sorry ass here, I suppose." The middle-aged man muttered, standing from his seat and handing over the tiny parchment to the big red lizard. "Good work, if we ever need stand-ins again, I'll know who to ask the Guild for." He said, jokingly of course, before wishing them a good night.

Upon leaving the garrison, the moons had begun to wane a bit from their zenith, though not by much. It was thus barely past midnight, so the guild wouldn't be open at this hour, which meant they couldn't go and turn in their receipt and get paid tonight. Still, Big Red's comment about alley camping made Druid Girl shiver a bit. She was fine with camping outdoors, in the wilderness, but inside a town, in some dank, nasty alley? With flea-addled sewer rats, stray dogs, drunks and possible rapists? No thank you, there were times when human-made establishments had their charm. Plus, sleeping in a bed sure beat sleeping on cobbled stone any day of the week. Of course, the silky-haired, caramel-skinned girl already had a room booked at an inn, but it was a single bedroom...

"Well, I already have a room at the Salty Pork Inn, so I'll be staying there but..." She started, looking at the two. "It's only got one bed... So, I guess you could fit in if we squeezed together in the bed-" She said to the archer. "-but, I'm afraid you might have to sleep on the floor, if you wanna come too." She said, looking at Big Red.

"Oh, but maybe there're still some rooms available for rent there, since it wasn't fully booked when I rented my room." She added, as if a candlestick had just lit up over her head and given her an idea.

UUuuuurrrrrrrrh.....

Druid Girl's face went beat-red. The sound that had just escaped from her belly, and echoed through the empty street they were standing in now, was a clear indication that dinner was way overdo. The girl, however, looked absolutely mortified at the noise she had just involuntairly just made, seemingly wanting to sink through the solid stone street and disappear into the crust of the earth itself.

"Ah... Uh... Ahaha... So, we uh... We really haven't eaten anyhting since l-lunch, huh? Haha..." She tried to play it off nonchlantly, rubbing the back of her head and averting her gaze from her two companions.

Whether they'd join her at the inn she was staying at, or if they had their own accomodations or plans for the night, one thing was for certain. Once she got back, she was going to force the innkeep to give her something, anything to eat!

[Assistant]
Steppe Archer beamed as they walked away, a job well done under their belts, and a rumbling in their stomachs. Steppe Archer slumped a bit at hearing the druid girl's stomach, her own seemingly agreeing as it grumbled. "I uh...don't really have money for food tonight but I'd gladly share your room. Hehe...most of my money goes into stabling my horse," Steppe Archer admitted, scratching the back of her head. Looking to their Lizardman friend, Steppe Archer would say: "But I won't go sleeping in a bed if our big pal here has to sleep on the floor, feeling like it wouldn't be fair for him if Steppe Archer got better treatment for being a girl. And small.

Fishing through her backpack, Steppe Archer would offer an apple to the druid girl, smiling. "Its not much, but it might help you save a little by fighting off hunger pangs for the night," the archer would say, just as her own stomach grumbled.


[System]
Sol Grim
Occupation: Lawyer

Name: Kelsey Larson
Dallen's daughter. Student.

Name: Lucille "Lucy" Carlson
Dallen's girlfriend. Lawyer.

Name: Riley Nelson
Dallen's partner and friend. Lawyer.

Court house lead security officer.

Court house security guard.

One of the cafeteria room survivors. There on misdemeanor charges. Steel worker.

The little girl that that was stuck in the cabinet.

Student at Romero high school.

Football quarterback at Romero High

Pastor of the church

Leader of the Ranger Station group

Ranger station member

Bartender. Ranger station member.

[User]
"All of the boats are already gone," Riley said, peering out the window of the beach side shop they were hiding in. He was with Lucy and Steven, and they all just stayed low and quiet as they watched the massacre outside.

Before long, the military was gone from the bridge, and everyone left behind was either dead or dying. The horde was too large to stay at the one place, and so, as the bombs dropped deeper into the city, they shuffled and spread out to the beach. From their angle, they could see the tavern that Dallen and the others were in. The trio made there way quickly and quietly to them, just before the horde surrounded the area.

Ethan let them in, and immediately Lucy saw the body on the floor covered in a sheet. It was a small body, and her and Riley knew that it was Kelsey. Before words could be said, the bombs started rumbling closer. The military had begun dropping napalm into the streets, as it quickly filled up all in its pathway, scorching everything.

"We can't stay here," Briggs said. "We make for the ocean, now!"

Dallen was unmoved, simply kneeling over his daughter's lifeless body. Lucy and Riley came to him and tried to lift him up. "Come on, Dal," Riley said. "Don't give up, not yet."

"Yo, if we don't go now, we'll be stuck here!" Ethan yelled, watching the doors as the dead pressed against them.

Dallen nodded, got up, and grabbed the fire axe that was hanging on the wall. Ethan pulled the doors open, and Briggs shot the way through. The group ran past the undead and onto the sandy beach, heading toward the water. A jet flew by overhead, the napalm dropping immediately after. All of the buildings at sea side exploded, taking up the attention of the undead as the group jumped into the ocean. There they waited, and sunk in deep enough to avoid contact with the fires. Moments later it was done, and everything was on flames.

The group stayed and stared up at the chaos, but their time was short spent as more walkers came toward them. These ones were slow, as they had trouble with the sand of the beach.

"Do we swim to the other side?" Steven asked, coughing as he swallowed in sea water. The other side was no easy task, as it was miles away and daunting to even comprehend.

"I don't know if I can make that," Riley added.

"We have no choice," Briggs told them all.

The dead were still after them, now entering the ocean with them but not being able to stay afloat. The undead would sink to the bottom, though they wouldn't stop in their pursuit. The group swam toward the other end.

[Assistant]
The sudden voice surprising them both, Erin squeaked as she ran behind Elizabeth, peering out from behind her at the man who introduced himself as Leroy Book. Becoming wary of other individuals after her run ins with others, the woman stared at the him warily at first before deciding she had no reason to distrust him yet. Giving Erin a reassuring nod, the little girl stepped out and cautiously stepped towards the pastor. "I'm Erin," she said, introducing herself. "That's Lizzy."

Picking up one of the heavy boxes, Elizabeth just grunted a hello as she adjusted it on her knee. What he said finally sinking in, she suddenly exclaimed, "Bombs? What bombs?!" This being news to her, she tried not to panic for Erin's sake, but if she were to be honest, she didn't see how she could possibly make it out of this alive. Keeping a clinched jaw to stifle any emotion from getting out, it was hard not to think of her son—where ever he and his father were. Despite their differences and the animosity between them, she hoped they were both still alive and he was keeping him safe.

Hearing a sudden voice, the three of them stopped to find another survivor seeking solace in the church. The box of canned goods heavy in her arms, she glared at the new arrival in frustration as it meant she had to stand there a little longer. Erin on the other hand was a bit nicer and stood on her tiptoes to reach into the box in Elizabeth's hands. The girl grabbed something before running towards them, offering whatever it was she grabbed in her hands. Elizabeth couldn't see what it was. "Erin," Elizabeth barked. Once she'd handed the food off she came running back to her.

Leroy welcomed the two of them in the same manner and gestured for them. "This is like something out of a movie," Elizabeth commented, looking around at their surroundings as Leroy led them deeper into the church to a staircase leading underground.

Erin hesitated at the top of the steps. "A scary movie," she whimpered before jogging to catch up to them.

When they finally reached the bottom, Elizabeth was surprised to see there were more people already in there seeking shelter. Dropping the box on the floor, she shook her arms to work them out before stretching them. Glancing over to the other new arrival, she softened when her gaze moved to the toddler in his arms. "What's your names?" she asked. Erin stood watching beside her, interested in the answer as well.

[User]
There would be plenty of food and water for Axe and his little brother, for Elizabeth and Erin, and everyone else. As introductions were being made within the church's underground, the bombs fell on Mecha city overhead. The entire area shook violently as they all had no other choice but to wait it out. When it was finally over, and the surface was completely on fire, Pastor Leroy Book moved over to the table in the room and picked up the radio.

"-Kenjen, it's Leroy, copy?-"

There was a slight pause. "-...Leroy, good to hear you're still alive...-"

"-I told you there would be others in need, we're on route to you-"

"-Copy that-"

Once the people were calmed that they were still alive, Leroy spoke to all of them. "People hear me! God has brought you to us, as he has told me to wait for you. There is still a light, and we shall find it together! There is a passageway that leads through the sewers, and outside the city. I have arranged safe passage to the mountains, where a group of good people await. They have more food, supplies, everything we shall need to get through this dark time. When you are ready and able, please follow me to the carts!"

They would go even deeper underground, to an old passage where a few golf carts awaited them. The drive through the tunnels would be a long one, long enough for them to sleep if need be, or simply rest. For the extra people, a few of the carts carried a storage crate behind it. It held a good number of them per one, though the ride would be slightly uncomfortable.

Leroy sat in the passenger cart of one, and behind him in the pull storage he turned to face the newcomers. "Forgive me if I was brief before," he said to them. "But now we are safe. There is no more to fear."

...

"Help!" Riley fell further underwater. He tried desperately to stay above it, but his sides were aching. They had been swimming for an hour now, the bright blazes from the burning city still shining over the water they swam.

Dallen and Lucy pulled him up, the three of them now back padalling together as one. Lucy tried to speak, but her exhaustion was becoming to high. Same with Dallen, however his mind was elsewhere; his daughter's death was still fresh in his mind. The constant wave and lack of oxygen kept his mind sharp enough to at least focus.

"Yo, what if the sharks are infected, too?" Ethan spat out.

He was ignored, as the rest continued to swim toward land. What they left behind was covered with the undead, and the flames from the napalm. It was either make it, or drown.

"Hey, hey something's out there!" Steven yelled.

Ethan almost freaked out, until they all noticed it was a small fishing boat. Their morale was raised slightly as the boat came up to them, a single asian man in a dark overcoat was in control.

"You all picked a bad time to go swimming," he said, then helped them in. "I'm Kenjen, how's it going?"

While the others caught their breaths, Ethan slapped a big hug on the man.

"I'm with a group at the ranger station, up there in the mountains," he told them, trying his best to point it out in the distance. "We watched the bombs fall, but luckily for you guys one of our own spotted you with thier binoculars. Don't give up hope, yet." He gave Dallen a friendly nudge, but the man gave him a cold glare that made Kenjen uncomfortable.

"He just lost his daughter," Lucy told him.

"I'm sorry," Kenjen said, and the rest of the trip was made in silence.

[Assistant]
The trek up the mountain path was made with ease, as Kenjen had a jeep parked close by the shore. The group took in one last look at the destroyed city on the other side of the bay, the flames still burning bright. The ranger station sat halfway up Mt. Charleston, it was a large log cabin with a small parking lot in the front of it. There were a few outhouses by it, as well as a larger cabin just behind it down the dirt path. The larger cabin was an old motel, three stories high, and it held the majority of the people here.

Most of the group were soaking wet and missing some clothes, so the first thing they all did was dry off. There were fresh clothes and warm towels waiting for them in the bathrooms of the station. Dallen and Briggs were the only to want to keep their clothing after they dried, as the rest happily changed into the random employee outfits of the lodge, sage green color shirts that read: Ash Tavern.

"Welcome to the ranger station," Kenjen said as they all came back out. "Let me show you around." The station itself was self explanatory, as there wasn't much inside the cabin but a bathroom, loft area, and a small arsenal that was locked behind a desk.

"We could use those guns," Briggs said upon seeing it, and after they all had lost their weapons to the sea.

"We will, but your safe for now," Kenjen replied.

He led the way back outside, down the short dirt path and through the tall trees, to the motel tavern. There were a few covered hot tubs and outside dining areas, but it was currently too cold out for their use. "There's a small town a few miles down the path," kenjen informed. "Everyone came up here, but we still have some supplies down there we need to get."

"How many people are here?" Lucy added in.

"Let me show you," Kenjen said and opened the doors to the tavern. The place was bursting with life, as people were all around on the inside doing various activities. Some drank at a bar, others ate or sat and talked in the dining area, where there were sets of large, long tables. A fireplace was going strong in a corner, where others were drinking tea. Everyone paused to notice the newcomers, but then quickly went back to their activities.

"We have enough supplies to last awhile," Kenjen said. "Give us a good head start, anyway. This mountain is full of game, too, so there's that. Plenty of space for all of you. All we ask, is that you pitch in. Give back, but we'll get more into that stuff tomorrow. Feel free to rest, take any room that doesn't have a marker on the doorknob. We have at least 30 open rooms. We can all hold out here together, until the military finds a solution to this."

"The military tried to kill us," Dallen said.

"It was chaos," Briggs added. "We were at the bridge. The infected got through, then they started shooting everybody."

"...we've been here for the past couple weeks or so, watched the whole thing from here," kenjen said. "We have guardposts, if those things get to us we have an evacuation plan. Basically, if you hear bells, it's time to go."

"You have power, so what about the news?" Lucy asked. "Anything?"

"The grid shut down yesterday," he answered. "Before it was just a lot of confusion, but this thing wasn't worldwide. It affected Mecha city and those around it, but things moved so fast. As far as we can tell, though, the disease isn't on this mountain. Please, make yourselves at home, I have word that more people need my help in getting here, so I might be out for a few days. If you need anything, talk to Gwen over there." He pointed her out through the people, then made his leave with others in his group.

Dallen went to the bar, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and a pack of smokes from the machine that was busted open. "Hell yeah, lets get wasted!" Ethan said, joining him. They all eventually joined, realizing that they all needed a drink.

"Booze won't last with us around," Steven added as they all downed a shot together.

"It's okay, we've earned it," Briggs said, smiling for the first time since leaving the court house building.

"I'll go find us a room," Lucy said to Dallen, she tried to kiss him but he wasn't in the mood. She left, asking one of the many people for directions.

"These people are lucky," Ethan said. "Very lucky."

"Yeah, I don't think they realize how bad things are," Steven said. "I mean, everyone knows what's going on...but, to actually see the dead. To actually have to run for your life...I still don't feel very safe here."

"That's because you're not," Dallen added in, pouring the guys another round. "Just be ready."

The rest of the night was peaceful. The people here were nice, feeding them and engaging in conversations. Eventually, they all grew tired and went to their rooms. Dallen was the last of his group to stay up, still drinking casually. He opened a new bottle up, not planning to stop until he passed out.


[System]
Age: 19
Appearance: Dark skinned and blonde, Sifa stands out like a sore thumb wherever she may go. Once one sees past her foreign appearance, however, Sifa looks no different than any other poor traveler, with simple yet old linens and a scraggly, thin frame. While she does own a comfortable pair of boots, it isn't unusual for Sifa to forgo them as she hikes along the many roads of Payle.
Personality: Sifa is rather mischievous when she interacts with others. She likes goofing off and hearing a good joke, which often earns Sifa the ire of those that see her as "childish". Even more so, Sifa is one to eat up gossip like a starving man scrounging for burnt hardtack, and if there are rumors abound, she has likely heard the word on the street or already passed it along to the next person.

[User]
Cowl's eyes watched the pebble skip along the water's surface, admiring the stone's struggle to stay afloat. He felt a lot like the stone at that moment, his travels having been lonely and uneasy. He had a companion at the very start, but he died to a bandit's arrow.

His thoughts drifted away as the stranger moved alongside him. He didn't look at the person's face, but he did catch a lock of blonde hair in the corner of his eye. "To Anvil in particular? It's just another stop in my travels. It is a beautiful town, though." He took a moment to look up at the stranger. His eyebrows rose slightly. The woman was not just another native, "I'm looking for something... Or someone." The prince returned his gaze to the river. "And what brings you here? I've never seen someone of your, um, genetic makeup."

[Assistant]
---

Anvil
Town Bridge

---

Sifa was left dumbfounded. Most rich individuals would tell her to scram, yet this one took a vested interest in the foreigner.

"Well, the same as you, really." Sifa replied, scratching the back of her head. "I have been travelling for sometime, seeking to fulfill my rite of passage. Some of my people join the military, others prefer scholarly knowledge from the higher arts. Me? The open road." The foreigner attempted to explain, wondering if she made any sense at all to the man. She had yet to see similar coming of age rituals through her travels, and it wasn't unusual for Sifa to wonder if her people were truly different than any other civilization throughout the world of Payle.

"However, I've seemed to have overstayed my welcome here. I kind of forgot to save some coins for tonight's room..." Sifa jested, laughing awkwardly into the night. She had no issue with sleeping outside, yet there was an allure to sleeping in a warm bed that anyone would've likely coveted.

[User]
Amicus

---

He wasn't sure if it was just because the streets were relatively quite at this time of day or if it was the effects of the setting sun, but the city of Anvil always seemed so serene during this time. Amicus pondered gazing listlessly at the river from his spot under the bridge. Then again what did he know? He hadn't been in the city but for only a couple of weeks now, finding work in treating the slum's sick. Not a very fruitful endeavor coin wise but, enriching in spirit at least. The people could only give so much for his services. He knew this and was fine with that. Still the growing hunger in his stomach had differing thoughts on the matter. Thankfully the river was in no shortage of fish. Now if only they would bite. He thought casting his makeshift fishing line into the water once more.

Any prospects of successfully catching something diminished into nothing as a stray rock was skipped across the surface. It took a moment for the action to register in the elf's head before he let out a defeated sigh. Seems like fish wasn't on the menu tonight. Oh well. He supposed he wasn't that hungry. That or either the origin of the rock had piqued his curiosity enough to forget about it at the moment. Amicus stood from his sitting position, stretching his arms before gathering up his belongings. The blonde then proceeded to climb up the bank and make his way up to the bridge. He was met with two silhouetted figures. A rather tall and muscled man leaning against the side accompanied by a smaller female. She seemed quite young and judging on her looks certainly not native to the area. Perhaps he was interrupting something? The thought of turning and leaving crossed his mind for a moment before he waved it away. He'd take his chances. Besides the two seemed relatively friendly or at the very least docile. "So, who is the talented rock skipper that owes me dinner?" He spoke as he folded his arms over his chest. There was no heat behind his tone more joking than anything. The grin that tugged at his lips didn't help much either.

[Assistant]
Hark stumbled out of the small tavern door trying to take care as to not spill his mug full of ale. He looked around the small town to see if there was anything that perked his interests but unsurprisingly the town was just as quiet at night as it was the last time he was here. Hark took a long gulp of ale followed by a loud burp before he started walking down the the dirt road. Hark had no destination in mind but he was far from ready to turn in for the night. Hark took a deep breath in and took in the smells of the residents cooking their dinners. While the town was a very quiet place it was Home to Hark and hadn't found a place in all his travels he would trade for Anvil.

As Hark wondered around the small town he spotted a small group at the bridge that perked his interest. He immediately noticed the blonde woman who had been denied a room at the inn and put up a little funny scene. Hark casually walked up to the group and said, "Well it only took about 26 but inally I seams this town has a little night life going on." As he glanced around the group his eyes fell upon the seamingly leather armor of the tall muscular man that was leaning on the rail At first glance it would appear he was wearing regular armor but anyone who has been around enough royals and people of high status would know that was dragon skin armor. Now, Hark was really interested.

[User]
Cowl

Cowl peeled a piece of paint away from the bridge as he listened to the foreign woman speak, his eyes on the dark water beneath him. When Sifa finished, he dropped the piece of paint into the river. "You do not lie when you speak of enjoying the open road. You have walked far, wherever you come from." He took a moment to consider the rest of what she said, letting the quiet sounds of lapping water fill the silence. "I'm sorry your civilization expects so much from you. I'm staying in the Cracked Tankard and I have the coin for a meal and a room." He paused for a moment, "the expense doesn't matter to me. I'd much rather help a fellow traveler, especially one as traveled as you." The prince turned to face the dark-skinned woman again, "My name is Cowl. And yours?"

He caught motion behind the foreigner. The color he saw wasn't the usual colors worn by the Anvil guard. Cowl moved off the rail and looked over the foreign woman's shoulder. He saw an elf with gold eyes that'd make any dwarven miner want to go at them with a pick. He smiled at the thought for a moment before the elf, who was dressed and armed like a hunter, spoke to the foreign woman. Behind the elf, another person. Cowl raised his dark eyebrows. The night was young and full of energy.

Gall

Gall, a once handsome man scarred from travel and fighting, stared at the light given off from Anvil. He stroked his greasy black beard, then kicked his horse into motion. Behind him a handful of rough looking men and women dressed in leathers got their horses moving as well.

[Assistant]
Tristan the Unworthy Knight
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 Tristan rode into the town of Anvil, his horse laden with bags full of supplies. It had been a long journey, but not particularly unforgiving. There was always the usual threat of bandits, but it had been lighter than usual this time around. It's a shame, really. He was getting quite practiced with the hefty longsword he now called his own. Tristan smiled once more as he thought of how he had earned his equipment. That bastard had it coming. Tristan reached for his canteen, frowning as he realized how light it was. "Guess I ran out without realizing." His problem seemed to have a quick fix, because he quickly spotted a tavern that was still quite lively at this time of night. "It looks like my luck is picking up." Tristan dismounted his horse, leading it towards the tavern.

 He entered the tavern, the amount of noise he heard increasing rapidly. A slight hush washed over the crowd as they spotted what they thought to be an honorable knight. Perhaps they would wonder what adventures had caused the damage to his armor. Tristan walked over to the man working the bar. "I need somewhere to keep my horse." He did his best to make his voice booming and powerful, but it didn't seem to work very well. The man raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you a little young to be a knight?" Tristan shook his head. "Long story. Now listen, do you have a solution to my problem or not? I assure you I can pay."

 The man laughed. "Alright, little knight. I have a stable out back. I'll get my boys to take your horse there." Tristan nodded, and dropped four silver coins on the bar. "Thank you for your assistance. I'll take an ale." The man snatched the coins up as Tristan walked towards an empty booth in the back. He unsheathed his longsword, resting it on the table as a warning to any who would dare antagonize him. Tristan kept his helmet on for the time being.

[User]
The Innkeeper

The old, bald innkeeper of the Cracked Tankard watched the knight walk off in his armor. At least the young man's armor was worn. A knight in shining armor has never had their mettle tested, or so that saying went.

A customer at the bar got up and left at the same time the knight walked away. The innkeeper took the used cup left by the customer and gave it a wipe with a semi-clean rag, watching the knight lay his sword down. The innkeeper risked a glance at the group of people sitting in building's corner, where the light was lowest. He thought he could see then watching the knight, but he wasn't so sure because of the low light.

Gall

The plainsman finished his tankard of beer, his eyes tracking the confident knight who had laid a sword on a table. He grunted, raising a hand for another beer. The knight had sat in the back, where the light was low as well. Gall couldn't make out any distinguishing features.

Beth

Beth, the young serving girl of the inn and daughter of the innkeeper, walked up the the knight with a tankard of ale. She nervously brushed her long blonde hair behind her shoulder, flashing the knight a smile. "Here you go, sir." she said, setting the ale on the table. "You're not from around here are you sir?" She said to Tristan, her cheeks reddening slightly. The nineteen year old serving girl had been serving in the inn since she was twelve. While pretty, no one had ever found her pretty enough to rescue from the inn.

[Assistant]
Tristan the Unworthy Knight
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 As Tristan rested in his booth, a serving girl barely younger than him delivered his ale. He observed her, noting her good looks. "Here you go, sir." Tristan nodded appreciatively, but she stayed to converse. "You're not from around here are you sir?" Tristan peered up at the girl. He then sighed as he removed his helm, revealing his mostly-handsome visage, excluding the broken nose. He smiled warmly at her. "There's no need to call me sir." He looked around at the inn, taking a long pull from the ale. "No, I'm not. It took me a long time to get here. I'm thinking about staying for a bit, but I don't have anyone to show me around..." He ran a hand through his hair. "It's a shame really." Tristan looked at his reflection in his blade. It was one of the only things in his arsenal he kept good care of.

 Unfortunately, he couldn't find it within himself to trust somebody with his armor. Since his theft, he was painfully aware that any small slipup could cost him his newfound livelihood. Tristan had found that his general paranoia over his armor was translating to real life. It was because of this paranoia that during his observation of the inn he noticed a group of people facing his direction. He cursed quietly to himself. They could just be curious. He tried to convince himself of it, but he found himself pulling his longsword ever so closer regardless.


[System]
Alias: The Atom, Rae the Bae to her friends

Age: 23

Birthplace: Connecticut

Hometown: Ivytown

Appearance: Despite her shrinking ability, Rae is actually somewhat tall, standing at exactly six feet. Her hair is a medium-length, dark Auburn, which matches her eye colour. She is not overly muscular, but keeps in shape enough to retain a fit physique. When she is not wearing the Atom suit, and working in her laboratory she usually wears a white lab coat over her casual clothes.

Costume

The Atom suit could only be described as a hybrid of a Hazmat, and a Scuba suit. Attached to the back is a compact tank filled with five hours of oxygen, emblazoned with her trademark symbol. The tank is connected to the back of her helmet by two silver tubes. The suit itself is painted with a red and blue colour scheme, as well as patches of black at the joints. The helmet encases the entirety of Rae's head, with a voice amplifier extending slightly outwards from the chin. Embedded into the front of the helmet is an orange visor that can shift in between transparency and translucency to protect her face.

Powers:
* Possible Unknown Metagene: Rae's physiology allows her to remain stable when she is miniaturized unlike other living things which explode after a short time of being miniaturized. She hypothesizes that her "microscopic stability" is due to some unknown metagene within her genetic makeup.
* Size Alteration: Rae is able to shrink her body to varying degrees - including the subatomic level - this is achieved by storing most of her mass in a pocket dimension. As the Atom, Rae can assume any size from her normal six-foot stature down to the sub-microscopic. Recently she has developed an encepholpathic grid in her helmet that allows her to shrink on command mentally for greater accessibility and swifter transitions into smaller sizes.
* Flight: Depending on her current size, Rae is capable of gliding on air currents and stiff breezes.

Skills:
* Judo: Rae Palmer often finds herself in situation where physical violence become necessary. As such, she has developed a proficiency in Judo.
* Education: Rae Palmer has a degree in physics, and microbiology from Ivy University.
* Stealth: As Rae is able to shrink out of the view of the human eye, her ability is extremely useful for stealth missions.

Brief Bio: Rachael Palmer was born to a middle-classed family in Ivy Town, Connecticut, to a stable and very suited environment. Having always been a smart girl, even at a young age, she had a very bright future ahead of her, especially in math, physics, and chemistry, when she was in middle and high school. She graduated earlier than most, and was put at a National level, scholarship-wise.

Every major college and university wanted her, but eventually, she humbly settled for Ivy University at her hometown, and packed her bags with a few months to spare. There she began dating law student John Loring, and majored in chemistry, forensics, and physics, and the complex studies dealing with genetics. It was around this time, as she grew older, that she began to realise what was going on around her. Crime was erratic, people died, and this was further bolstered when she was walking back to her dorm on a dark night, and a man attempted to pull her into an alley. Thankfully, Judo lessons paid off, and the man was flipped onto his back, knocked out, before he knew what hit him.

As this began to pick up speed within her mind, Rae began to think of things that would help her clean the streets of her hometown... keep people safe. Having been recently investigating matter compression and nanotechnology within the safety of Harvard's funded laboratory, under the watchful eyes of professional scientists, Rae hit a breakthrough, never before seen in modern, and past, scientific achievements. The suit she was working on shrunk. Originally too small to see, but a high-powered magnification screen showed that the suit was simply subatomic. Glory was shared in the laboratory at that moment, and every single day, Rae went back to that lab, working and tinkering on the suit, enhancing its abilities. Finally, the prototype was finished and it was time to test it out. However, just as she was about to begin the test, onlookers watching, her boyfriend, John, offered to test it out. It was clear to see that he was concerned about her testing a potentially volatile piece of equipment. At first, Rae declined, not wanting him to be hurt if it backfired, but he convinced her, and she allowed him to equip the suit. The scene, not even ten minutes after, would forever be ingrained within her mind. She was stupid to allow him to try it on as the first tester. He imploded, to put it simply. His body caved in on itself, before the force of the shrinking technology proved too much, and he exploded. After that, the whole experiment was put on an indefinite hiatus, as it was proved to be too dangerous, and although deeply affected by the event, Rae didn't want to stop. She knew that there was a way for it to work...No, she knew that it would work. Months passed, with her working, in secret, on streamlining some of the problems with the suit. Finally, after a while of buttering up to the Headmaster, Rae was allowed to test out the suit, again, after the failure. She equipped the suit, put on the helmet, and activated it.

Exploring the testing site at the size of an ant was...well, it was really surprising, and very intriguing, to say the least. As she waved from atop of her teacher's shoulder, the crowd laughed and oohed and ahhed, Rae was proud of her achievement, although saddened that John could not be here to celebrate with her. As the days went on, she finalized the suit in its entirety, christening it the Atom suit, and finally graduated from Ivy, with a degree in Microbiology, and Physics. Her future was bright, but not in the way most thought. Although she achieved a high-paying job as a scientist with Wayne Enterprises, Rae would occasionally fought crime as the Atom. She never found out the true reason why she was the only one able to survive with the suit on, but she hypothesized that it may have been related to an unknown metagene she possessed. For now, she had to live in the present, and work on protecting the world, day after day.

[User]
Kaleolani was on top of the communication tower plucking away at his ukulele. He promised both his moms that he would not forget where he came from on the mainland, an hour a day for hula and an hour for ukulele. He never did them back to back so as to spread the influence out over the day.

Up here on the top of the ship, he could just look out over the edge and see the world. The whole of it all made him seem so small, what could he do to help it all? 'Little people need little things, big people need big things, but anything to help anyone is important.' It was an odd wisdom his momma told him to get him to always help strangers and neighbors.

"I see trees of green, red roses too-"

"MANA! GET DOWN HERE!"

He could tell they weren't yelling out of anger, just to be heard. Looking over the other edge of the tower stood one of the 'skittles' with a folder for him. Her name was Johannah Jameson and she at times seemed to straddle the line between friend and 'handler'. He rolled off the roof and dropped at least thirty feet to the titanium deck plate with a *THUD*.

"What was that for? You could have just floated down"

"Just taking the express elevator, ma'am."

"Don't "ma'am" me, I don't outrank you. You don't even have a rank for me to outrank you with. Now come on, you got a meeting. And put your damn shirt on!"

"Yes ma'am."

The Hawaiian pulled his black t-shirt from a back pocket to put on and came into the briefing room barefoot with his sandals tucked into the back pocket. Nodding to everyone present. Surely this slacker took the hang loose too seriously as he looked around for a bite to eat or something to drink. The ukulele was still in his hand as he took an open spot near Captain Potts.

" 'Loha."

His blue eyes kept nagging himself to look over at the guy in all the leather. There was something... fearful about that guy and He used lava for poi balls one time. This man evoked a sense of... vulnerability In Mana and it bothered him deeply.

[Assistant]
Dick yawned as his alarm beeped a little quietly. With a groan, he pulled himself up and out of bed, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He wasn't really a morning person, considering he did most of his stuff at night. Still, he wouldn't miss this for the world. Today, he was going up to the SHIELD Helicarrier. Join that new team that he was told about. He didn't like that the transport chopper was coming so early, but he was sure he could catch some sleep on the ride there anyways.

He set some coffee to brew, before putting on some civvies, a cyan tank top and some black jeans. Slipping his small utility belt on under it of course. He might not have had to follow Bruce's orders anymore, but, occasionally, the man did give good advice. He quickly checked to make sure all his stuff was there. Extra fear-serum canisters, a few smoke pellets, his grappling hook, and of course, his patented Crownai. His medical glove and cape were attached to his costume though, and he wouldn't be wearing his costume just yet.

He grabbed the backpack in-which he had stuffed his costume, and spare sets of everything. Also grabbing up a disposable cup and pouring some coffee into it, he made his way to the roof. He sipped on it silently as the cool Gotham City air nipped at him. He cursed himself for wearing a sleeveless shirt. Luckily, he didn't have to wait long, as only a few minutes later, a SHIELD agent met him, and introduced himself as such. "Hey." Dick exclaimed with a grin. The agent simply nodded, and summoned the helicopter. Dick huffed at getting stuck with such a spoil-sport, but stepped into the vehicle anyways.

---

"Get up."

Dick mumbled as he shook himself awake. It seemed, they were here. He took a peek out the window of the helicopter to the billion dollar explosion of extravagance. It looked cool, certainly. but it seemed like it had no purpose for how much money was blown on it. A lot of tax payer money funneled into maintaining something this was probably the reason they hired a small group of separate people. Didn't want to have to have the citizenry dying, as well as paying money for this military-like cause.

Dick hopped off the aircraft, and was guided to an auditorium room with some other people. Mostly young people, like him, but there were a few twenty-somethings. He was going to sneak out to explore the place later, but for now, he would introduce himself to the group. He situated himself near the nerdy boy, near the front, and told the team, "Hey, I'm Dick. You guys are?"