[System]
* Age: 16
* Gender: Female
* Race: Human
* Appearance: Armored, Unarmored. She is 5'1, with pale skin, blue eyes, and blonde hair. Her armor is silver with gold decorations. Her sword has a golden hilt.
* Personality: Fanilly is one to take her duty seriously. This is both due to a belief in the cause of the Iron Rose Knights, and a severe insecurity and self-consciousness about her position. She is well aware that she is young and comparatively inexperienced. She knows that she is only in the position she is because of her birth, as she was born under a full moon. This only makes her feel worse about it. For Fanilly Danbalion, captain of the Iron Rose Knights, she can't help but feel that they have a point. She's young. And even though the founder was the same age, she was viewed as something miraculous, almost a saint. Should Fanilly truly be leading them? This weighs heavily on her mind, and thus one of her biggest desires is to prove that she is. In spite of her young age, in spite of how this tradition has worn thin for some, Fanilly wants to prove that she is a worthy captain of the Iron Rose Knights above all else. Aside from this desire, the girl is somewhat socially awkard, sometimes unprepared for conversation. However, she is not really shy and can generally deal with attending various functions in the capital, as is expected of the Iron Rose Knights. She is dedicated to the purpose of the order, to defend the innocent and protect the land of Thaln. However, the doubts surrounding her have lead to a lack of confidence in herself. Fanilly has a younger sister and as a result has a somewhat stronger affinity for children and desire to keep the safe, but as someone dedicated to the Iron Rose Knights' cause she wishes to protect all those in need. While she has a lacking in confidence, she retains some pride in her training, as she has proven to be skilled at swordplay in spite of her youth.
* Brief Backstory: Fanilly was a daughter of the Danbalion family, a noble family already. While they had never been knights, her birth on a full moon immediately made her a potential future candidate for the Iron Rose Knights' captain. She was simply needed sooner then many expected. And so she experienced training for several years leading up to her instatement as the Captain of the Iron Rose Knights. Initially she was confident in herself, but it quickly became clear that even some within the Knights had grown tired of the tradition of selecting a maiden born on a full moon to be the captain. This wore on her quickly, and has lead to her desperation to prove herself.
* Equipment: Fanilly wears a well-made set of somewhat ornate armor. She wields a fine longsword in her right hand and a dagger with a curved hilt for trapping weapons in her left.
* Skills: Fanilly has experienced extensive training in swordplay, specifically in the use of a longsword in both hands, or paired with a unique parrying dagger.

[User]
Julianna got an sudden chill down her spine when the guantlet touched her shoulder. Considering their situation, Nero was lucky Julianna didn't stab him with her weapon. What an incredibly rude thing to do and stupid thing to do during a crisis, even if it appeared to be over. Thankfully for Nero, Julianna was able to realize just who it was.

Julianna didn't respond right away and let Nero do what he wanted. Nero was scorpion, shiny, armored, and full of poison. He was also very observant and his little jab at her hit home rather quickly, but of course she wasn't going to go along with it.

"What matters is that we have caught the immediate threat and that we know whoever is behind this attack is of the extremely cautious sort. No doubt it will be very hard to glean any useful information out of the assailant." That was certainly true, with an attack who could not even speak who had to know how to ask the right questions to get any useful information, also if the killer was illiterate as well it would be even more of a challenge.

All that being said, she now had a nasty hand on her shoulder, did the man have to leave his gauntlet on? Yes they were still in a potentially hostile situation but having a gauntlet on your shoulder was creepy and uncomfortable in more ways than one. Thankfully she had just the thing to take care of the situation.

"Ah yes that reminds me Sir Nero, have you had the pleasure of meeting my father, Marquis Silvern?" Julianna smiled put an open palm toward the large man now standing next to them. There was never anything quite so intimidating as a father who looked like you were assaulting their daughter. His smile seemed pleasant but his eyes were fixed on the offending gauntlet.

[Assistant]
Martina Stonehammer
Well, she'd missed, but... At least someone had managed to catch the assassin. Getting to her feet and dusting down the front of that garish collection of frills her mother had made her wear, she joined the knights who had surrounded the Nem, fully ready to let her have it...

...And then she noticed the scars on her neck, and her inability to speak. Surely, this poor thing had been forced into this... Surely, whoever had done this to her was the true villain, the one truly deserving the fiery wrath that had been boiling inside her since the princess had been attacked.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes as the undead knight tried to get the assassin to write on a napkin. Without wasting a breath, she stomped off to someone who she knew would have something to write with...

Her father.

Naturally, a big event like this filled with nobles was an excellent opportunity for him to negotiate new trade contracts and expand his business. And whilst it was the dwarven way to inscribe such agreements upon stone or metal (thus creating a lasting, binding contract)... Well, Thaln wasn't exactly dwarvish lands, and sometimes even the most traditionalist of races had to compromise. After a short exchange with him, Martina soon returned to the Nem, slamming a roll of parchment, a quill and an ink well in front of the diminuitive assassin.

"If you can write, write." The scowl etched across her face burned with barely contained fury. "Tell us who did this to you, who made you go after the princess, and we assure you... Our vengeance shall be swift and merciless."

[User]
The assassin stared in blank confusion, momentarily taken out of her limp acceptance of everything that was done to her, when the little girl retrieved napkins and food. That, certainly, was difficult to understand for the girl. But she understood when parchment was spoken of. As the girl who had pinned her to the ground asked her questions...

For the first, the nem nodded. She nodded to the second, as well. To the third, she hesitated.... and as her mind seemed to wander, an expression of anger came to her face. Yes, she'd failed, but if she hadn't...!

With trembling hands, she snatched the paper away from the taller girl, then the quill and inkwell. She'd tell them exactly what they'd done by stopping her assassination attempt. Then they'd understand.

As she wrote, the true hoplessness of the situation she'd found herself in sank in deeper and deeper.

When she raised the parchment up, there were furious tears in her crimson eyes.

You've killed my sister. And so have I.

---

Fanilly relaxed slightly when she saw the Assassin had been stopped. Good. She'd gotten stopped before she could leave the room, and she was unharmed by the looks of things. That meant they could figure out who was behind this. As Sir Gillian proposed getting everyone out of here, the short blonde nodded. It'd be easier for everyone involved.

It was about then that the head of the head of the royal guard approached. He was a tall man, in ornate armor, with a long poleaxe. He had quite the mustache.

"Your highness, are you okay?!" her called. The Princess nodded.

"I'm fine, the Iron Roses kept me safe," she said. While she looked like she had composed herself, Fanilly could hear her voice wavering. "The captain has a request for you, as well."

"The captain?" he looked around, before realizing the rather short Fanilly was directly in front of him. "What is it you request?"

Fanilly nodded. "I need your men to clear the hall out, to get every noble to a safe location. We'll keep the Princess safe."

The main hesitated. It was their duty... but... the Iron Roses were legends, of course, even lead but such a small girl... "... V... very well."

With that, he set about ordering the guards to clear the room. Fanilly glanced back at the others.

"I'm going to see the prisoner," she explained, "Keep the Princess safe, no matter what."

And with that, she began to approach the cluster of knights, and the defeated assassin. As she grew closer, her blue eyes widened at the sight of the ugly scars on the nem girl's throat. Just what had happened...? ... Regardless, they had to learn what was going on. That message she held up... they'd killed her sister? And she had as well?

... No. They'd find out what was going on regardless. There certainly hadn't been a second Nem here... So the message must have meant something else.

[Assistant]
Tyaethe blushed when the parchment came out... who was she to know that there was someone actually carrying writing supplies around in a ball? It was far beyond the norm for someone to actually come to what was supposed to be a relaxed party and bring tools of their work. Instead, she munched idly on the bread whilst waiting for the nem to write out her message.

It definitely wasn't a pleasant one.

If they had both killed her sister then that meant the assassin was blackmailed to be here... and if they let news spread of a failed assassination, then that would remove any chance of preventing the gruesome punishment from being carried out. Swiftly, Tyaethe drew her sword again, slamming it into the ground for attention.

"To everyone outside of this room, bar the king and queen, the princess is dead. This is a matter within the remit of the Knights of the Iron Rose, and I will hold anyone spreading the truth responsible for manslaughter. Do you understand?" the paladin stated, hoping that her reputation would overcome her small stature. Nobody that she had been determined to protect had died, though once it had been close... if not for Elionne. This would be the same.

[User]
Gillian eyed the moustached guard as he retreated, though was relieved he seemed to back down to Fanlily's inherited authority. He returns his sword to his scabbard, rubbing his eyes as he does so. Tonight was more stress than he'd care to have in a year. Mayon above willing it only aged him a few days, though considering tonight's luck that seemed unlikely. "At this rate I'll be grey by my thirties…" he grumbles to himself.
The princess it had it worse though she held up better than he'd expected. But even seasoned members of the order would be shaken after an attempt on their lives, and Gillian had no interest in testing the limits of the young woman. "Your highness…" He starts voice much softer than normal. "I think it best that we retire to somewhere quiet until things have calmed down. Do we," He says, gesturing to himself, Ian, Christina and Sult, "have permission to escort you back to your quarters? Or would you feel more comfortable elsewhere?" He asks. Normally, he'd confine the noble to their quarters and ignore any protest. But given his earlier behavior, he doubt she'd respond well to such an act at the moment. And that aside, the girl looked as though she was well past due a chance to regain some control over the situation.

[Assistant] Viviane sighed as she tried to get control over herself the situation was over there was no more need for violence at the moment. Despite those thoughts she still gripped her dagger tightly in her hand an assassin who failed their missions was nothing more than a fly to those that may have sent her. This meant that this was nothing more than a opening act surely they did not expect the assassination to work? "A opening act worthy of ten playwrights by itself. The act opens with the failed assassination attempt on the beloved princess Quick to defend her life the fearless captain leaps to her aid pushing her away just in time." She said aloud as she twirled on her left foot causing the hem of her dress to fly by the action. "Surely no better tale could be told? A twist perhaps of events to create a starts of forbidden love? Oh the story of love and tragedy that it would entail." She continued twisting events to seem more like that of a scripted play as she headed towards the captain. Her twisting of events slipping from her tongue not done in jest or in merriment rather a way to get across her own opinion of that there was a possibility it was scripted to happen. Though she doubted anyone would understand what she was getting at it was the nature of people to assume the worst after all even she was not free of that.


[System]
Yo, here it is!!!
Age: 24

Gender: Male

Race: Mura

Appearance:

I did warn you not to look... haha

Element Affinity: Edos, the Luminous Saint (Priest)

Magic: Seals (used in healing)

Gear: Alezander only carries with him his pure white hoodie and wears wooden sandals and a white bottom kimono. He has a stave strapped to his back and wears black gloves on his hands. He also has a pouch that carries his Seal Paper with pre-written glyphs for healing and warding off evil spirits.

Brief history:

Born into a family that still prays to Edos and has a small shrine on their property to their Patron Saint. He was raised from a young age in believing he was no Magi and would never be a Magi. His father's harsh words were not far from the mark. Alezander, Zander to friends, holds a small grudge against those who are pure Magi and need no extra items to use their magic. His father being the one he holds the biggest grudge against. His father is at large known as a master healer and doctor for his ability to make most ailments go away with a simple wave of his hand and soaked brow. Zander's mother, is a Priestess of Edos and pretends to not understand why the Church does what it does and why people have turned their back on it. Zander will not acknowledge he even has a living mother just for that notion of pure blindness.

For years Zander kept his head down, did his chores around the household. Pretended that everything was fine and nothing was wrong. He studied under his father to learn the glyphs used to heal people and animals alike. To chase away dark spirits and to never turn his back on the Church. If there was on thing that Zander needed, it was more training on creating his own glyphs to force his own magic to awaken, if it ever would.

At age 24, Zander's life came crashing down. His whole life had been a lie. He was a Magi alright, but his father was not. He only claimed to be one. He used the same glyphs, hidden around the room he treated his patient in. He called upon them and had one on his forehead to make sweet appear as if he himself was the focal point of the spell being cast. His disgust for all things related to the church and his own hatred for what he himself had become and had been his whole life.

"I'm a Magi..." he muttered to himself. He was bruised and bloody from the thrashing given to him by his father. "I'll set out, away from the Church and it's reach... I'll heal those I can. If I truly have to I'll use my own power as a Magi... through these glyphs."

Additional info:

Alezander likes to be called Zander. He is a Magi just repressed by his father trying to protect him from the outside world. He still holds a grudge against other Magi though to cover for himself. He uses the seals out of habit and only in an emergency will he use his own body as the conduit for his healing magics.

Name: Geoffrey

Age: 22

Gender: Male

Race: Mura

Appearance:

Element Affinity: None

Magic: N/A

Gear: Wearing citizen garbs, brown pants and a single black shirt. He has a pair of fingerless leather gloves on each hand to help with his Archery. Wearing a pair of simple sandals, and usually keeps his bow un-strung in his quiver along with arrows.

Brief history:
Geoffrey has no idea who his father is, and it doesn't bother him in the least. He's unsure of what he wants to do with his life, but he's always felt the call of the wind. The urge to go out and see what the world has. When a young Priest appeared at his Inn Doorstep, offering healing in exchange for a room over a week ago, Geoffrey took him directly to his mother.

Later that night, the two bonded over ale and Zander for once let his walls down and let Geoffrey into his life. That same night brought them even closer together. Before all that; however, Geoffrey helps his mother and his not really twin sister's who are quite a bit older than him. "Thirty-five is OLD!"

Having worked at the Golden Coffer Inn most his life, he's heard wild tales of adventurer's, guard patrols, and a few bandit's that his mother, Olga turns a blind eye too. A few have helped him learn the ways of a bow, a few have offered to make it Demacite Arrows and Shafts and has always refused. He has nothing against Magi or Demacite users, but finds it a bit cheap to hard work with his weapon.

With a choice before him that he doesn't even realize, he tends to his few time lover in hopes he'll awaken.

Additional info:

Geoffrey HATES being called Geo. His mother and Zander are the only two he allows, save for the two barmaids who call him that in a mocking tone and luscious winks. His bow is re-curve, a throw back to earlier hunters and his want to show people hard work earns more. Though he will defend Zander, he doesn't agree with the way he treats others.

Editted to change the backstory a little to match and show he is a Magi not Mundane... heh Mundane I like that.

[User]
It wasn't long before the sounds of ringing steels and shouts and curses drifted down from the deck—Danica's instincts had been correct. Someone had come to reclaim the merchant's goods, but the bandits weren't going down without a fight. At the moment, she had no way of telling how many opponents there were, or even who they were. Was it a contingent of guards? Ten men, maybe? Dani could not imagine that the city had sent too many of them. The goods and ship they had stolen may have been valuable, but surely not important enough to warrant the attention of a whole army. The snatches of conversation that reached her failed to give her any clues, but the cries of pain from familiar voices made her wonder if things were under control.

The bandit leader had already gone out to confront their assailants, so it was left to Danica to hide and wait for action to come to her. The Naga backed into a corner, taking advantage of the limited light and augmenting her natural talent for stealth with her shadow magic. It was just as well that she hid, for soon enough someone entered the cabin she was in. And by entered, she meant he barreled into the room, falling down the stairs and ending up in a muddled heap at the bottom. Dani palmed her knife, silently watching him stumble to his feet, noting in surprise that he was just a kid. Well, she amended, he couldn't be much younger than her, and he was even a few inches taller, but she had been expecting someone much older. This Muran couldn't be a member of the city guard, and he certainly wasn't dressed for the part.

It didn't seem like any of his friends were going to follow him down here, considering his involuntary grand entrance, and he was still recovering from his fall; Danica saw her opening and took it. She exploded out of the shadows in front of her adversary, appearing in a blur of motion as she slammed into him and drove him into the opposite wall. There she pinned him down with an arm, conscious of the tiny amount of space between their bodies as she held her weapon up to his face. He was bleeding from some cuts on his cheek, and overall had the battered and bruised look of one that has been in battle. Clearly her allies had given as good as they'd got. The look on her victim's face made her laugh—she was going to enjoy this.

"What's the matter, little Muran? Lost?" Danica simpered as she pressed her knife up against the man's throat, leaving some space between the blade and his skin. Their faces inches apart, she locked her startling yellow eyes with his, having to tilt her head back slightly to meet his gaze. The minor height difference clearly didn't bother her as her lips curved into a deadly smile, snakelike fangs on display. "Say, you're a cute one… Shame I have to kill you."

[Assistant]
Amuné couldn't really tell what was going on in the fight from where she waited, hidden behind a clump of bushes. She heard shouts of anger and pain, but she didn't think most of them came from her friends. That was good, wasn't it? The girl hoped so, as she pressed against her moorcat's side to minimize her shaking. Zander had gone to join the conflict by then, and it was just her and Wyth, waiting and hoping. She was so scared for them, but Ethan wanted her back where she would be safe.

The vision that slammed into her took her by surprise. It was jumbled and confusing, with her friends and the new healer and the bandits and men in suits with strange devices. Where had they come from? The child had no idea, but the expression in their eyes made her blood run cold. They were dangerous, and they didn't care who they had to hurt. They'd kill anyone that got in their way, and right now that included Amuné and her friends.

The girl struggled to reorient herself as the vision faded, finding herself on her hands and knees. She must have fallen when she zoned out. Wyth was watching something, a silent snarl on his lips, and abruptly moved so that she was draped over his shoulders and leapt aside. Shards of ice buried themselves in the ground where the pair had been moments before.

Amuné's gaze moved in the direction from which the attack had come, and she couldn't keep from shuddering. It was a suited man like from her vision, and on his arm was a strange device that held traces of magic. She could see others like him, closer to the ship. What should she do? Ethan had said to stay clear, but she was no longer safe hiding where she was, and the others were in even more danger. She repositioned herself on the moorcat's back, barely avoiding falling off as he dodged another attack. Why was he attacking her? She'd done nothing -- she needed to tell the others, and they had to get out of here. Bandits were one thing, but these men were something else, something very dangerous.

A soft command to Wyth and he made for the ship, gathering himself to leap onto the prow. "Nymira!" the girl called, her voice frightened. "There's bad men coming, one shot ice at me and they're /really/ bad!" Amuné looked around, but she couldn't see Ethan or Cecil from where she was. "Where are the others? We should go!"


[System]
Attributes: Middleweight, decent speed, decent jump, kinda hard to launch. His Psynergy-based specials deal less damage on average, but they have higher launch power.

Attacks:

Neutral: A 3-hit combo with his Sol Blade
Side tilt: A horizontal blow with his Sol Blade.
Up tilt: An upward stab with his Sol Blade
Down tilt: A low sweeping kick
Dash attack: A horizontal blow with his Sol Blade
Forward charge: His Sol Blade unleashes Centurion, where he stabs a foe several times (up to 6 hits, combo lock, more powerful and higher launch at the tip)
Up charge: The Sol Blade unleashes Radiatn Fire. Isaac swings upward, and a flame energy emerges from the Sol Blade. Foes hit by the blade take more damage and are launched further than those merely caught in the blast.
Down charge: The Sol Blade unleashes Purgatory. Isaac strikes the ground in front of him, causing a small, fiery explosion in front of Isaac. Foes hit by the blade take more damage and are launched further than those merely caught in the blast.
Neutral aerial: A vertical spinning swing with the Sol Blade
Forward aerial: A forward swing with the Sol Blade.
Back aerial: A backward stab with the Sol Blade
Up aerial: An upward stab with the Sol Blade
Down aerial: Isaac casts Spire (meteors foes that are directly below it)
Grab: Uses Catch to grab a foe. Acts as a tether grab.
Pummel: Isaac strikes a foe with the Sol Blade.
Forward throw: Isaac casts Psynergy Slam, forcefully charging himself into them to send them flying.
Back throw: Isaac throws a foe backwards while casting Rockfall (a rock comes up and slams into the foe)
Up throw: Isaac throws a foe upward before casting Briar to send them flying up.
Down throw: Isaac casts Psynergy Surge, grasping his foe before jumping up and slamming them into the ground.
Floor attack (front): Isaac rolls into a vertical swing with the Sol Blade
Floor attack (back): Isaac kicks backwards with his feet before getting up.
Floor attack (trip): Isaac flips standing, swing the Sol Blade in a vertical circle
Edge attack: Isaac pulls himself up, stabbing forward

Specials:

Neutral special: Isaac casts Gaia, causing the earth to erupt in front of him, pelting foes with pure Venus energy.
Side special: Isaac casts Quake, which causes a chunk of earth to launch a foe to the side.
Up special: Isaac casts Helm Splitter, where he leaps up before plummeting to the earth. The second half of the attack can be cancelled out. Deals lower damage than even his other specials, but has a higher launch power too.
Down special: Isaac casts Oddysee, which may pin a foe with four mini energy swords before he strikes. Each mini-sword deals 1%.

Final Smash: Megiddo- The Sol Blade visibly flashes and lets out a howl. Then, Isaac leaps high enough to wind up in outer space, where he hits an oncoming meteor downward. The meteor crashes into the battlefield. Isaac then follows, striking one foe (or more, if they are close enough). Any foe above 85% that Isaac strikes is KO'd instantly.

Taunts:
Up taunt: Isaac assumes his battle Psynergy casting stance
Side taunt: Isaac pulls out a Venus Djinni, which flies around before disappearing
Down taunt: Isaac swings the Sol Blade, beckoning his foes to come closer.

Alternate colors:
1. Color scheme based on Garet
2. Color scheme based on Ivan
3. Color scheme based on Mia
4. Color scheme based on Dora
5. Color scheme based on Kyle
6. Color scheme based on Felix
7. Color scheme based on
8. Color scheme based on

Palutena's Guidance:

Pit: Lady Palutena, who is that! I sense a strong power coming from him.
Palutena: Be careful, Pit! That's Isaac, a Venus Adept!
Pit: Venus Adept? What's that?
Viridi: Isaac hails from a planet called 'Weyerd'. There, several people are born with the ability to manipulate one of the four elements of Earth, Fire, Water, and Wind. These people are called 'Adepts'. Venus Adpets use the power of plants, rocks, and the earth itself to attack.
Palutena: In addition, Isaac is a very skilled warrior. Be wary of his Sol Blade, as it is a very powerful blade, and one that Isaac is used to using.
Pit: Wow, this guy's pretty strong! Anything to watch out for?
Viridi: His Psynergy is weaker than most other special attacks, but they have a higher luanch power as well.
Palutena: In addition, the Sol Blade has four unique attacks which Isaac has at his disposal.

[User]
On that day, just a week ago, the Capital World of Subspace was attacked by a dark force. It was just like 8 years ago, during the events we now call The Brawl, only it was on a bigger scale, and without the guidence of Master or Crazy Hand. Yes, the shadow bugs were indeed back, but they were backed up by dark and infected Koopas, Knights, Space Pirates, ghosts, demons, and various others. The heroes protected Subspace with all of their might, killing many that stood in their way, yet they were quickly picked off, one by one, by unknown slashes coming seemingly out of nowhere!

Mario was the first to be turned into a trophy, followed by his brother Luigi, then Link, DK, Samus, Pikachu, Marth, Megaman, Ike, everyone protecting the Capital had fallen. As they lay helplessly frozen in gold, small transport skiffs came and quickly picked them up with their large, mechanical claws. Not even Megaman, Pac-Man, Lucas, and Ryu were spared as they became prisoners frozen in the trophies that were cursed upon them. Eventually, even the heroes and "villains" from the nearby regions were also captured as well.

Only three of the entire hero force of Subspace survived... who head into hiding beyond the outer perimeters of the territory to the east. They were; Pit, the Angel-Captain of Goddess Palutena's army, Lucina, the warrior princess and daughter of Chrom, and the newcomer Cloud Strife, a powerful swordsman that wields the legendary Buster Sword. Those three were the only survivors of the invasion and thanks to their wits and capabilities, they were able to fight another day. They will become known as The Big 3, for being the original roster survivors of the invasion.

They had to defeat this new threat, its a must, but what does one do when all but three of the original roster members had been captured? They just need to contact fighters from beyond the boundaries. Surely there has to be some out there right? With that, they casted a message that was be sent to the outer and unknown regions and provinces of Smash. This message was now their only hope, the fate of Smash. Weather it will reach to new heroes or not, weather they accepted it or not, all the 3 warriors need to do now... is wait and hope for the best...

And so... our story begins, one week later...

---

Monster Hunter

Gerudo Valley. A hot and rather desolate place, its known for being one of the main stages for a fight to take place, usually amongst Link, Zelda, Sheik, Ganon, and even Toon Link, along with anyone related to the Zelda realm. The stage is mostly flat, with the middle being a large gap, with a river running through it, only being connected by a wooden bridge. Two platforms can also be seen, one on each side, along with a tent on the left side. The trail is otherwise used by coming citizens and miis, which connects Hyrule, to the left, and Subspace, on the right, respectively.

Walking down this path, a male Monster Hunter stops several meters behind the bridge as he takes a look at his surroundings. His armor, made of a Rathalos he killed, gleams in the sunlight as he slightly pants from the running he did previously. Forming from the ground, he seems to have encountered several shadow troops, these being in the form of Bulblins and skeletons. He takes out one of the weapons he uses, that being a charge axe, and runs towards them, issuing a dash attack by swinging his hammer down on them, taking out three of the units. Another skeleton rushes behind him, but the hunter greets it with a forward smash, using his great sword to jab and knock him out of the stage. Then the last bulbin leaps towards the hunter, only to be hit by his up special, Hammer Swing, initially getting hit on the hammers ascend and then pounded into oblivion on its decent, taking it out of the match too.

The fight was indeed quick and easy, with the Monster Hunter making a slight grunt as he goes about his way. Yet after walking across the stage, he senses that the battle was not over yet. More shadow units began to form from the ground, along with new Shadow Knights wanting to join the fray. With a sigh, the hunter simply takes his great sword out once again as he prepares to do combat with the enemy once more...

[Assistant]
Adam Jensen

 It was rather convenient, the timing of the call. Everything was starting to die down, and the sense of adventure and danger was slightly rubbing off of him. Bringing justice was something that usually only occurred once, and it was unlikely that even the slightest riot would've, though it could've, broken out in this day of age. As far as he enjoyed it, peace can be somewhat disappointing in the terms of doing your job. If you were in this position, you'd have done your job, and would serve little purpose. Having this opportunity, which he knew very little about, proved to be one hell of a chance to get back into the saddle. However, this was something slightly different to what Adam was used to, he had no idea what he was getting into. His whereabouts, his role...all just seemed a little too bleak for his liking.

 Adam Jensen looked from his window. The rural ground below him began to fly past quickly as the VTOL kept on moving. He wasn't so sure to even trust this whole mission area, as things seemed a bit skinny information wise. Perhaps another attempt to bring down the New-Age legend. Instead, he decided to call up the communications call to the man responsible for agreeing to this contract. Sarif, of course. Typing in the specific frequency code and pin number that allowed him to directly communicate to his superior. Soon enough, the voice communication, though mildly unstable, seemed to pop in within seconds.

"This is about the job, isn't it?" The voice was slow, not very excited to hear his field-operator calling in.

"Maybe if I got a Little more information than 'You are going to do some stuff.' then maybe we wouldn't be having this conversation..." Adam said glumly. It was clear that this wasn't the everyday 'Shoot-A-Terrorist-In-The-Back' sort of thing.

"All I can say, from what I know is that something is going on far-out where you are headed. Something about a transmission distress signal for help, asking for some of the greatest fighters and what-not. Who's better to send instead of the one and only Mr Jensen, ey?" There was no response. "Alright, that's all I know. The message didn't really send very well from the distance it must've been sent."

"So you didn't hear the entire message because of the distant frequency? Basically, this could be people asking for the greatest fighters to hunt down some sort of hospital, for all we kno-"

"Sceptic, as usual, I see. Try to relax, for once in a while. You should be there in about 10 to 20 minutes. For now, just watch the scenery go by..." The comm-link cut itself out. A deep sigh exited from his mouth as he sat back down, waiting for the arrival to the ever-strange world outside his own.


[System]
Age: 16

Race: Human

Gender: Female

Appearance:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Adventuring Rank: Porcelain

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

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

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

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

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

Porcelain Adventurer's Tag

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

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

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

[User]
Slowly lowering their lantern to the floor, Shade squinted as he maintained a lingering gaze on the corpse. While neither the first nor the last cadaver he would come across, the boy took a moment to trace his fingertips across the bones. Several bite marks could be seen, clearly strewn across its shape. The head had fallen off, and nothing remained but the very shell of what had once carried a person. "It's been a while..," Shade commented, feeling the dry nature of the bones against his dainty fingers, "must have been a sewage worker," he continued, before managing a soft sigh, "or an adventurer." This could very well be the fate of all three, killed and forgotten within the disgusting confines of a sewer. It was somewhat fitting, one might add, at least for the assassin. He was born in darkness, and perhaps he would die in it, as well.

With the lantern lighting their surroundings from where Shade had left it upon the floor, the boy stared into ever-growing darkness with streams of light weakly peering through grates above. Clenching his teeth, the Dark Elf was unable to ignore sounds of squeaking, accompanied by the padding of small, filthy feet. Rats were coming. "Archer," Shade spoke, the word leaving his lips at a rapid pace once the forms of two rats made themselves known.

Large, furry creatures leaped into the circle of light which spread its way around the party, gnashing and gnawing teeth attempting to hungrily dig their way into flesh. Behind them, another two rats charged the group with a lone halberdier tasked to keep them at bay. "Damn, a pincer move," Shade clenched his teeth. They were rats, but they were also hunters, and they had killed humans, before. A pile of bones next to the party made that abundantly clear.

Shade leaned towards his quick reflexes and dashed aside, avoiding the devastating pounce of a rabid, filthy beast. The boy's footwork allowed for him to rapidly swing his blade, leaving a trail of blood on the floor, before the sound of a squealing rat filled their ears. It would not allow such a meager wound to slow the beast down, however. Swiping at Shade, the rat pounced forth and managed to knock the assassin into a hard, stone wall. Sharp, rotting teeth attempted to sink their way into his skin, before biting down on the edge of his blade, where he guarded himself against the otherwise finishing blow. He slid the blade out from between his enemy's teeth, leaving a long cut across the rat's cheeks, but was yet again standing against a viciously pouncing beast.

"Shit..," Shade yelped, moments before he was pushed over and hit the floor, a massive rat climbing atop of his small frame. Through pure reflex, the assassin shoved his blade through the rat's temple only moments before its teeth managed to reach his face. Instead, the beast slumped on his body, deadweight now pushing him down without remorse. "Goblins would..," he panted, slowly pushing himself out from beneath the monster, "have been better..," Shade finished.

[Assistant]
Rats! Litterally and figuratively!

The little monsters had cleverly laid an ambush, clearly using the pile of bones as bait to draw in unexpecting prey, only to pounce on them with the all the cunning and skill of a master assassin! ... Or, perhaps not... Regardless, the situation was nevertheless very real and very dangerous. With one of the vermin rushing straight past Guard Lady, the half-elf turned as quickly as she could in order to intercept it. Alas it was too late, the little mongrel had already begun attacking the hooded boy. What a failure on her part, or so she thought, she had been in charge of front and yet she had let their very first enemy just slip by her, shameful.

Still, there was time to redeem herself yet! A second rat from behind was dashing towards their archer-friend, hell-bent on catching them from behind. Even if she were to try and help the boy fend off his attacker, her weapon wasn't exactly suited for small, precise attacks and chances were that she'd take the head off her companion just as well as the rat if she tried swinging for it. Thus, she decided to move infront of their forgeiner-friend, placing herself between the other girl and the oncoming rat. With a swift, determined movement she raised the polearm and brought it down sideways in an attempted horizontal slash.

Sadly, the rat - while much bigger than usual - was able to see the attack coming and somehow managed to evade the cleaving swing. Having missed her mark, Guard Lady became unbalanced and had to recover from her failed attack. This moment of disarray allowed the huge vermin the chance to counter, and so it did - leaping into te air and biting down on the girl's torso. HEr leather armor buckled and deformed slightly under the large frontal fang of the rat, but it was durable enough to withstand being pierced through at the very least. The sudden addition of weight on her torso was enough to stagger the half-elf though, and in a clumbsy backwards motion, she dropped her weapon and fell on her bum, trying with all her might to pull the beast loose from herself, all the while cursing under her breath.


[System]
Nickname(Optional): Pfft, no.
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Physical Appearance: Of Average build with short dark hair, Neil isn't exactly the most unique specimen. He is fit but not noticeably so. He isn't big at all, but he is also not small. He has a face girls can find cute, but not exactly dreamy. Tanned skin and a ruddy complexion from all of the machine's he's worked on, coupled with the calluses on his hands gives him an experienced look despite the very youthful appearance he has. All in all, other than the twinkling of his eyes and the trademark grin, he is essentially average. He has dark eyes and very dark brown hair, enough to be considered black under most light. He's about 5'10 and 165 pounds.
Clothing: He often wears baggy pants, mostly military cargo. He likes to wear single colored T-Shirts. Usually he wears red.
Personality: Oh, now that is a question. To say Neil is eccentric is...well, that hits the nail on the head. Very good with hand-eye coordination, competent combatant, good engineer, and a daring pilot. But prone to sarcasm, snide remarks, unorthodox behavior, and just good old fashioned explosions. He's a born jokester, though behind his charming yet insufferable demeanor belies a certain intelligence, and to those he enjoys, he does tend to have a big heart.

[User]
Neil had slept some, needing at least a decent amount of shut eye to function. But he'd turned on the alarm for him much earlier than Sayeeda, which surprised him. Not his early alarm, but hers giving her a longer sleep. She was usually very vigilant, far more than he thought healthy. But then again, she was a bigger badass than he. He guessed she was still very beat from all they had done. He'd had time to rest after she had gotten hurt from the initial encounter back on X-792b.

Once Neil hopped up, he stretched and took a quick shower, his black hair matted to his neck as he walked out and changed. Tugging on his shirt and pants, slipping on the belt and shoes, he wasn't even fully dry by the time he got back with the items from the junk area he'd weaseled his way into. The guard there learned who he was and let him in, not wanting to keep out a guest of the Dukes'. Though the amount of junk Neil hauled out still had him questioning just what the mechanic needed it for. Neil gave him vague hints as he borrowed the grav-transporter.

Dumping the items onto the main cargo hold of the ship, Neil had already placed on his headphones, listening to some classical music. Once in the bay with the materials unceremoniously dumped, he fell to his knees and unlatched his toolkit, goggles on his head and metal plating spread out before him on Highlander's floor. "Alright, first things first," he breathed to himself, taking a few of the smaller pieces and measuring them.

"Going into salvage are we?" Sayeeda asked from behind him. He didn't hear her at first through the music, needing the Captain to repeat herself before he took note of someone else here. Unusually for Neil, he seemed startled and slightly embarrassed. "H-Hey," he said, attempting nonchalance. "What's uh, what's up?" He asked her, taking an earbud out and lifting his goggles. "Oh this? This is nothing. Nothing at all! Why it's so very nothing that you're probably just... hallucinating right now. Yeah I'm in the other room asleep, actually. Or masturbating, whatever you'd believe is most likely."

Her look caused him to slump his shoulders and sigh. "Aight, take a seat." He told her, waving his wrench at the chairs to the left. "Just give me a minute. You'll thank me." He promised her, and before Syeeda knew it, his welding torch was ignited. The flame lighting up his goggles and illuminating his growing feral grin. It was no wonder his arms and hands were callused and parched, the proximity to the flames and the way he handled the metal as he bent and shaped it. Before long, he was setting up wires in what looked to be a serpentine contraption.

Three classical songs after he had finished shaping the steel, he began to attach the various items he'd made. At first glance, it looked like a half body medical device, but once he was finished welding it together and hooking up the right spots, bolting this and that, he took his goggles off and wiped his forehead, sweat beading down, slipping past his collarbone. His hair was slightly matted yet again, though this time from exertion. But his dark eyes were just as bright as his usual grin.

He placed down what he'd finished in front of Sayeeda, and now that it was before her eyes, the contraption was easily identifiable. It was a hydraulic exo-suit. Much smaller than most standard issue ones given to Storm Troopers, but nevertheless... Sayeeda could slip her arms into the skeletal steel 'gloves', increasing her strength and durability with melee attacks while giving her enough dexterity to wield her gun effectively, and the center between the two arms was a back brace she could hook around her waist, increasing her back stability and allowing her ease of movement with them.

"Sexy right?" He asked, and he rubbed his nose with the edge of his thumb, facetiously smug. "Yeah, wasn't planning on making you something initially, but I had some extra scrap and you had a shit time at the medical facility." He shrugged. "Thought I'd give you something to think about."

Behind him, there was still a huge amount of scrap, something that would take days for even Neil to work on. Lonney politely reminded Sayeeda they had 90 minutes before meeting with the mysterious messenger.

[Assistant]
Sayeeda tentatively inserted her hand into the glove rig and closed her hand. With a whiring of servos, little louder than the background hum of a datapad the mechanical hand closed in syconrony with her fist. Slowly she spread her fingers and then closed them one by one. The machine moved fluidly with her without any hinderance to her movement. She wondered how quicly she could jetision it in face of an emp, but such weaponry wasn't likely on most worlds they were likely to venture to.

"It is sort of sexy," she admitted, "Thank you Neil."

"I wonder if I could get it on over my..."

"90 minutes to the mysterious meetn-greet cap'n!" Lonney chirruped in his irritating accent. Sayeeda withdrew her hand from the half finished rig with a sigh.

"I swear to the Goddess if this is some prank they will never find the body."

Sayeeda and Neil moved rapidly through the streets. The hab was unusually quiet even though the streets were packed. MOst people had downed tools in face of the alien invasion and with every armed man preparing to defend the hab there was no one to force the laborers back to work. Instead they congregated in bars and on street corners, watching vids and buying food where there could. It wasn't quite hoarding yet but people were definitely getting the notion that things were more serious than the authorities were letting on. Pretty soon someone would have the bright idea to start looting and then the city would become real interesting.

Although she had agonized over the choice Junebug had lost the inner argument about wearing her armor. Beat up as she was the idea of strapping twenty pounds of ceramic plate over her torso had not appealed. Instead she had dressed in what she had explained to Neil as business causal. As usual she wore fatigue pants of mottled green fabric with many convenient pockets and her heavy back combat boots. Somewhat more uncharacteristic was a dark blue tank top with the word Timebomb written across it at a jaunty descending angle in white exaggerated font. Junebug dimly remembered it as a band from one of they worlds she had served on towards the end of her tour although she couldn't have said anything else about it. The garment was light and airy and exposed the owl tattoo snaking down over her shoulder. In a shocking departure from protocol she had even left her como helmet behind, opting for a pistol belt and a bandoleer of reloads that she carried slung over her shoulder.

"Might have been a mistake to roll so light," she commented as they headed deeper into the more deserted manufacturing sections. Neil snorted.

"Would have attracted attention if we had come armed for an assault drop," he pointed out, reaching forth to brush back some dangling cables so she could step clear unobstructed.

"I've always found that a 20mm plasma gun makes people fairly uncurious after they get a look at it," she countered, earning another snort of amusement from her companion.

The walked for about half an hour, doubling back and taking rapid blind corners to throw off any pursuit. It would be difficult with things so quiet although Junebug had known intel ops who could have managed the trick well enough. Well if there were people of that calibre following them their mysterious petitioner was going to be in for a shock. Eventually they entered the AB13 manu, designated by the stenciled characters above a large starship style hatch. They had passed dozens of other similar signs. The interior was a large open warehouse perhaps a hundred feet long by half that wide. Large mechanical components, engines of some sort sat on large roller ways, not unlike old fashioned rail lines. Cranes and lifting apparatus hung from the ceiling like skeletal arms. The whole place smelled of metal and old lubricant as well as the ozone residues of arc welders.

There was a momentary static pop as the overhead speakers crackled to life.

"Thank you for coming," a deliberately distorted voice said from the speakers, as sexless and lacking in distinction as an AI. An unmodified AI anyway Sayeeda thought sourly.

"Your welcome," Sayeeda replied in a deceptively mild tone her eyes scanning the shadowed receses of the warehouse. Always a mistake not to bring the helmet, she could have used IR.

"Who I am is not important..." Sayeeda broke in without waiting, her clear voice, used to calling orders across a battlefield filling the inside of the warehouse more efficiently than the cheaply installed speaker system.

"Listen, whoever the fuck you are, you have about 3 seconds to cut the shit and come out or my friend and I are walking." The speakers cut of suddenly as though the operator was shocked. Sayeeda waited a few moments eyebrows raised and then turned as if to leave. There was a sudden comotion from an upper level gangway an a young woman, dressed in conservative black street clothes and holding an expensive datapad scrambled out of a concealed position.

"Wait wait!" she called, her voice useful and a stark contrast to the modulated filter she had been using.

"I'm coming down." As the girl came down the metal stairs in a series of clanks Sayeeda measured her with her eyes. Early twenties, asiatic features with hear a shockingly vibrant blue that could only be a synthetic implant job. It looked as though she had made some attempt to conceal it with a hood while she had been playing incognito. The girl had an attractive open face although she was clearly flustered at having things depart so radically from her prepared script.

"I'm Taya Cho-Lan," the girl said as she stopped in front of the two spacer. She had a long barreled pistol sticking out of her belt sash, doubtless it was intended to be practical but Sayeeda doubted the girl had ever fired, or expected to have fire the thing.

"You're Junebug Cyckali right, the mercenary?" the girl burbled nervously. Sayeeda exchanged a long glance with Neil.

"Yes I suppose I am," Sayeeda replied.

"What can we do for you Misstress Cho-Lan?" Her tone suggested that it had better be good. To her surprise the girl didn't flinch but rather turned grave.

"I need you to get me off this planet before the Duke has my family killed and, before my father has the pair of you killed." There was a moment of stunned silence.

"Uhhh... you are going to have to back that up for me Taya," Junebug confessed, irritation giving way to perplexity.


[System]
Species: Gible

Gender: Male

Moves:
- Tackle
- Sand Attack
-
-

Bio:
 "Hiyah!" Gavin shouts, standing on a hill beside Mt. Dragoncoil and holding a pointy stick to an Axew's neck.
 "No, wait! That's not fair!" shouts his friend once he realizes he lost the mock-battle. Gavin lowers the stick.
 "What's not fair?" He asks, slightly annoyed.
 "Why do you get to use a pointy stick? Where's mine?"
 "I made this one. You don't get one because you didn't make one!"
 The Axew thinks about his predicament for a moment, but soon gets distracted by the activity down in Scale City. Gavin notices too and looks over in time to see two Pokemon walking into town. These aren't just any Pokemon, though... These are new ones! He's never seen these two around town before. One he recognizes as a Salamence, while the other is some sort of green lizard with leaves for a tail. "Who do you think those are?" his friend asks. Gavin realizes something.
 "Maybe they're adventurers!" he gasps.
 "Adventurers? Don't you mean explorers?"
 "No. Adventurers. Exploring is different from adventuring."
 "How?"
 "One's boring and the other's not." Gavin replies bluntly. "You know, that's what I want to be when I grow up. An adventurer!"
---
 Getting to see the Salamence and Sceptile, the first two Pokemon from other towns to visit Scale City, had changed Gavin. There were other towns out there! Other places to explore! Other people to meet! He became obsessed with where they'd travelled and the things he heard about their adventures, eventually getting to the point where he would sit in his room for hours on end writing stories about their endeavors. Soon, though, he switched to writing about what he would do if he were a member of a guild. The places he'd go... The wonders he'd see with his own eyes... He could hardly wait.

 Years later, Gavin was still working to become an adventurer long after his friends had lost interest in the subject. He lived in a small house far from Scale City's entrance. By now his parents (both Gabite) were well aware of his desire to move out in order to see the world. His mom, a bit overprotective at times, wasn't too keen on the idea. Meanwhile, his dad was indifferent about it (as he was about most things). To Gavin's surprise, they had finally agreed to letting him move out after years of him pestering them about it. However, his joy didn't last long once he found out that they had bought him a place just down the street instead... He decided to roll with it, though, taking what he could get.

 Gavin's desire to travel, see the world, and join Denise's Guild had stemmed from the day those now-famous explorers came to town. However, he's still not sure if he's up to the task and hasn't yet attempted to form a team there. He's especially worried about his lack of damaging moves, but makes up for it with a very sharp stick he's been carrying around for almost eight years now. Currently, Gavin is helping with what he can in the city, trying to make a bit of money on the side and waiting for the right time to join the guild.

 He's just been dragged into an argument with Danny, who he wanted to buy food from. Apparently, Danny now thinks that Gavin bought something from Bob and Ed's stall and won't sell him anything... Whoever "Bob and Ed" are...

Appearance:
 He looks like most other Gible, but usually has a bag with him. Sticking out the side of his bag is a very pointy stick, which he always carries around. Buried deeper in the bag is a blue scarf that he hopes to be able to wear one day. Don't ask him about his lack of a neck unless you want to be on the receiving end of the stick.

Picture made by Ridlins

Differences:
 Can fly and shoot lasers from his eyes. None

(If there's anything that I need to change or if this contradicts the continuity in any way, please let me know, I can edit it.)

(Edit: Changed the Milotic to a Sceptile.)

[User]
Celes had been awake for a while during the night in this cold weather… She didn't want Spruce to end up having issues… She stayed close to him, before thinking a bit. Some pokemons could end up causing lot of issues to them while they sleep. She looked at the snow… before starting to work, aiming on making a couple of snow mounts around her and Spruce, using her ribbons to do this. She kept working for a while, making sure that they would be safe. She then went and stayed close to Spruce, hugging him with her ribbons after making sure that there was no more snow, making sure to keep him warm during the night…
The next morning she woke up before making sure that Spruce was ok. Sometimes she felt like it would have been more bearable for him probably if she was a flareon instead… but then she remembered how this form could help a lot here.

---

Eralion woke up the next morning, yawning a bit and stretching his arms. He looked around at the group, smiling a bit, remembering yesterday. That was one dang criminal taken cared of at least. Now there was Bonnie's father that the group would need to go and deal with. This… will probably not be that easy. But there was one thing that came to mind… if he was a dark type also now cause of his actions… then god knows how much pain he was going to end up with if Eralion could get a good hit on him. Especially if he kept his normal type also... but that was another thing.

[Assistant]
[Josh]
 With that discussion out of the way, they all went to bed. Josh was finally able to sleep in a comfortable bed instead of out in the cold, and on top of that, Kiera was safe. Still, he couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy. Ever since he left the reef, he'd been trying as hard as he could to stay as far away from it as possible. There was no doubt in his mind that going after this orb would lead to a confrontation with Zane. He'd certainly grown much stronger, but was he strong enough for this?

 The next morning, Josh woke up with these thoughts still plaguing his mind. Not wanting the others to worry, he tried his best to keep a neutral expression on his face as he went down to get breakfast.

---

[Dexter]
 If it was up to him, Dexter would keep going. Unfortunately, his team wanted to stop for the night, and he didn't want to just go out there alone. "Fine. I'll stay up for a while. I don't want anything weird to show up and try to off us in our sleep." With that, he began keeping an eye on their surroundings, while the others slept. For the first few hours, nothing happened. Dexter was beginning to get a little tired at that point, though. He walked up to Rebecca, and shook her awake. "Hey. Mind keeping an eye on things for a little bit?" Once he was sure that Rebecca was awake, he went to sleep for the rest of the night.

 Thankfully, nothing had happened up until the point that he woke up. Once everyone else was awake, he spoke up. "Alright, you've gotten your beauty sleep. Let's go. I want to get the fuck out of here."

---

[Donovan]
 Once the others decided to go to bed, Donovan did the same. Despite how energetic he was just a few minutes ago, he fell asleep almost instantly. By the time his team was called to the guildmaster's office, he was already fast asleep.

 "UP AND AT 'EM! IT'S MORNING! REPORT TO OUTSIDE THE GUILDMASTER'S OFFICE FOR AN IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT! PrrRRRRONTO!"

 The thundering voice woke Donovan from his slumber. So far, this was the only voice Donovan heard that was louder than him. After taking a moment to stretch a little, he was wide awake. "Are we gonna get to kick someone's ass today?" He asked his new teammates. Though this likely came as no surprise to them, he was very eager to get into a fight.

 Donovan headed on down to the guildmaster's office, like the announcement told him to. Once there, he saw the same Swampert and Wigglytuff that they saw yesterday, but apparently that Wigglytuff wasn't the guildmaster. The real one was invisible, as most of the people in the crowd had figured out when the Swampert leaned on him. Donovan, however, hadn't quite figured it out. "Right where? I don't see him." He whispered to his teammates."


[System]
Age: 20 years

Gender: Male

Status (wealth) : Lower class, disguised as an Upper Class (has the same status as a farmer or beggar, but is pretending to be a Duke)

Appearance + Mask : Beautifully slim looking man with slender hands and an enduring smile. His skin is pale and soft to the touch, and his eyes glow a light green much like a cat's. Brown hair tumbles into his eyes and just barely reaches his neck.

Any weapons to be brought in: Weapons? Why, of course not! Only a hidden dagger or two, just in case someone is onto him about his identity...

Job/Occupation: Thief

Personality: Ladies of both old and young ages agree that Duke Indigo is a charming young fellow, though they've never seen him at a Masquerade before. Indigo is a loving, caring individual with a big heart and a humble mind. That's how everyone pictured Indigo before the incident. Frederick, if he ever shows what's under the mask, is an arrogant, selfish, and cruel young boy who is only in it for the money. It would take a stubborn person and a strong heart to really soften his ego.

Backstory: As a child, Frederick grew up with two goals in life; to become rich and help his parents out of debt. All the jobs he ever took on were either disgusting or gruesome, and he hated working for the higher ups. Especially Duke Indigo. Even though they were the same age and looked alike, they were nothing alike. Indigo was too nice, too caring, too self-centered. He used the taxes to help other places instead of his own, which pissed off Frederick to the point of killing him. No one needed to know he was dead; no, Frederick would fill in and pretend to be Duke Indigo for a little while, maybe until the Masquerade.

Theme song (optional): None

Any other info (optional):

Doesn't matter the gender; as long as they have some rich connections, he doesn't care.

- Willing to do anything just to impress the Upper Class, whether it's juggle or jump off a roof. Only if they were willing to pay for a show.

- He is absolutely in love with animals. Show him an animal and he'll treat it with care.

- Certain things seem to tick him off, even though they are little. Scraping a fork on a plate, the sound of glass breaking, and obnoxious laughter make the thief cringe outwardly.

- He thinks all Upper Class are snobby, but can be persuaded to think otherwise by the right person.

[User]
The king of Afterclaw proceeds down the hallways of his castle, servants scuttling in his wake as he fits a snug mask over his ancient but handsome features. He reaches the guards stationed at the main door and nods at them, once before giving a command.
"Open the Gates"

[Assistant]
The wind blew on that glorious night of the Masquerade. The weather wasn't too hot, too cold, not in Indigo's opinion. No, the weather was just perfect for dancing with fair maidens, flirting with a princess or two, drinking the night away... And, of course, stealing the King of Afterclaw's treasures. Yes... That most certainly was the highlight of this trip.

Stepping out of the carriage, the brunette looked around him with an aura of elegance. People knew who Duke Indigo was; a man of pure kindness and a humble thinking process. He wasn't supposed to walk by a poor, homeless hag without sparing a gold coin. That was who Duke Indigo was, but that most certainly didn't speak for the selfish Frederick. The thief who was on the loose for countless bounties of theft, and he was possibly charged with murder. But no one would find out it was Frederick under the metaphorical mask; instead, it would be Indigo under the literal mask on his face.

He dipped his head to a group of women passing by and approached them. "Ah," one woman began, looking in her thirties, "if it isn't Duke Indigo of Rendisone! I didn't expect you to be here."

Indigo laughed and shook his head. "My dear lady, I've never had the time in the past to come... Work projects, certain happenings at the mansion... I thought I would stop thinking about work and come have some fun for once. I am quite excited for what lies ahead." The women laughed with him, going on ahead into the party as he was stopped by a guard. "Ah, yes... Invitation."

He dipped his hand into his coat pocket, pulling out the paper for him. The guard checked it, then looked at Indigo's eyes under the mask. "Any weapons we need to know about, Duke? It'd be a shame if we were to have you kicked out during the festivities."

Indigo smiled kindly at the guard. This smile was fake, but it didn't seem fake to the man in front of him. It even seemed fake to the female guard that approached to listen to the Duke. "Why would I need a weapon?" He laughed like a carefree sailor, his body covered by the black cape he was wearing. Even if they tried, they would be able to find the dagger... Or so he hoped. "I promise you, if anything goes badly or someone sneaks in unauthorized, I trust you guards to take care of it. Ta ta~!" He moved swiftly past the two and into the party, prepared for whatever might come at him.

[User]
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Naina got ready. Fitting the shoulder less dazzling white gown over herself. It had a full skirt with a lacy navy bow in the back and glittered with small navy blue diamonds stitched in at the edges. She fit her mask over her face and left her tiara in its special box. No one should know who she was, obeying the rules of the masquerade and if she wore her tiara it would give it away for sure. She went out of her room where the guards stationed there bowed at her. She exited the palace by using the garden door and then winding all the way back to the front to enter like every other guest did. She reached the guards at the front and handed them her invitation. She murmured something under her breath to them, to let them know that she was the princess so they could look out for her before entering the huge ballroom. Once inside she saw a man with brunette hair who was looking around him. She swept her skirts around her and made her way to him. She gave a small smile and a greeting.
"How are you finding the ball so far?"She asks him.

[Assistant]
Rosetta was filled with anxiety, she couldn't believe she had managed such an invitation. Although at the same time this hadn't beem her first time attending such an event since her father was so well known in the upper class world.

Rosetta patted off her emerald green ball gown as she exited her coach. She held herself tall as she walked eloquently to the gates. Around which the gardens were absolute perfection!
"Stunning! Very well taken care of which I absolutely impressive what they much pay in their up keep" Rosetta said aloud to herself before noticing the guard.

She hurried to him amd handed him her invite, "Rosetta Marie Holland my good sir." The guard just looked at the paper and nodded, "Any weapons Miss.Holland?" Rosetta smiled a lovely smiled and with a bit of flushed cheeks she leaned to him and said, "If I were to say yes would you give me a full search? I might enjoy a pat down from someone as muscular as you." She giggled and then waved to the guard, "I am sorry just having a bit of fun I am actually rather nervous I have no need for weapons." The guard opened the door for her then seeming rather unphased by her playful joke so Rosetta just adjusted her mask and stepped inside.

Looking around she seen two others nearest the door, finding it better to avoid people for now she made her way to the banquets to find herself a snack. This she had hoped would ease her nerves. Rosetta was not a child anymore and wouldn't be sent to the children's wing for a ball, no this time she was stuck here to mingle and hopefully not embarrass herself.

[User]
Quinton

The young butler started to head into the castle through the side as the invitation to work as a temporary butler to a noble for the night was allowed by his Cafe's boss, Skylar. It was quite surprising that he would get an invitation to anywhere, and even more so to a fancy ball such as this event. His red mask to cover his eyes, he heads through the security checkpoint without too much trouble...not really worried that his Bracelet of Holding nor Handkerchief of Magical Detection would get him in trouble. The fancy suited butler decided to find a noble that seemed to need his attention and commit himself to attending to her, preferably a her, for the ball. After all, he kept having an itching feeling to serve a person and ended up using his Handkerchief to look for a magical individual if possible. Eventually, he reaches a noble youthful lady of sorts and does a deep bow to her.

"Good evening madam, my name is not of high honor nor nobility. Tis just a normal name called Quinton and I have come upon a troubling predicament. You see, I was somehow allowed to participate in the ball as a guest though I am merely a servant...however, I do have a strange feeling to do my actual duties in aiding a person. If you don't mind, would it be alright if I served as your butler for the night? Whatever the lady desires within fit and mature matters, I will do my best to accomplish it."

[Assistant]
Western formal wear was definitely something else. Khalid didn't completely understand the point of a shirt, and a tie, and a vest, and a jacket, but it was what the Westerners did and he didn't feel like standing out tonight. Besides, the suit was a beautiful silver color with a long back and he rather liked it. So maybe there was something to suits after all.

Once he was sure his tie was on properly, he put his mask on and did a double check in the mirror. To him, his eyes still stood out as being not very human, but the gold of the mask seemed to down-play the flickering light a bit. Hopefully it would be a decent enough disguise.

He double-checked to make sure he had his invitation - something he was still rather surprised he had received - and before he knew it, he was at the gates.

Khalid offered his invite and allowed the guard to pat him down for weapons, and then he was allowed in. If there was any place to make trade agreements, this would be the place, and Khalid fully intended to take the opportunity.


[System]
Persona Data Sheet:
Nicknames and titles- Woebringer, Fiendhewer, Defender of the Southern Marches, Warden of the Frosthills.

Sex: Male
Age: 25
Race: Human

Height: 6'2
Weight: 210 lbs.
Body Type: Lean, athletic, toned muscles
Skin type/color: Tanned faced and upper torso
Scars/tattoos/birthmarks: Several battle wound scars from arrows and cuts
Hair color: Reddish blond
Hair style: Long, pulled back, just above shoulders.
Eye color: Gray-blue
Eye shape: Wide

Class: Knight-errant
Side: Silvershields

Armor/Clothes worn-

Head: Great Helm over padded arming cap and chain bascinet

Torso: Leather brigandine worn over a mail shirt and gambeson. Heavy black hooded tunic.

Upper arm: gambeson and chain from the shirt

Lower arm: leather and plate vambraces protecting the forearms

Hands: chain and leather gauntlets

Waist: heavy double wrap sword belt

Upper legs: heavy suede pants under the draping edges of the gambeson and mail shirt

Lower legs: mail and plate greaves

Feet: heavy calf boots under the greaves

Weapons- (all lengths are overall lengths):

Main hand/primary: 44-inch long war sword with a hardwood grip wrapped in leather

Offhand/secondary: 28-inch kite shield made of wood reinforced with steel bands.

Other weapons carried:

25-inch long war hammer with hardwood handle on the belt.
10-foot long oak spear with a 13-inch long hewing spearhead.
20-inch long poniard on his belt.

Unique skills/special abilities/magic/technology –

Proficiencies:

Literacy, Languages common, elf. Lore- religious. Land navigation. Celestial navigation. Climbing, acrobatics, swimming. Horsemanship. Wilderness survival. Falconry. Haggling.

Weapon proficiencies:

War/Longsword. Two-handed sword. Lance. Polearm/spear. Mace. Ax. Dagger. Shield. Armor usage.

The three horses of Lars: During a jousting tournament, he has a large chestnut red charger that is heavy and strong. In normal combat areas, he uses a lighter courser that is dappled colored. When Lars is not fighting, he uses a palfrey for riding, which is a sleek black mare.

Persona biography-

Lars is the son of Grim, hence Grims'son or Grimsson. Born in the northern reaches of human lands he grew up in a strict household. His father is a minor lord and raised his sons, all seven of them, to be warriors. Lars is the youngest of the boys and has been overshadowed by his brothers and father in terms of their exploits and heroics.

The early training of Lars included the rules of the court, chivalry, music, writing, and weapons. Lars also became devoutly religious having witnessed what he believed to be an angel who had saved him from death at the edge of a lake. Lars has become extremely spiritual over the years, praying early in the morning and after every battle, believing his purpose is a bulwark against evil in all its myriad of forms.

After several years training, at the age of 10, Lars become a squire to his older brother Hafjarl, where his training focused more on combat. Lars expanded his training in weapons and in particular, he learned the tactics of fighting on horseback. This was one of the most important aspects of becoming a knight and one of the hardest skills to master. As a mounted knight, he witnessed the awe and respect that people paid his brothers throughout the land. At 13 Lars worked hard on the list where he mastered the lance and controlling his horse in melee, mastering these skills, becoming a fierce combatant on horseback.

Having gained his knighthood as a member of the minor nobility, Lars decided that he had to leave the small lands and explore the wider world. In this, he hopes to gain the honor and fame that has eluded him and made him the outcast among his family.

Lars has been traveling the last seven years exploring and learning the ways of the world, yet that one fleeting piece of honor and glory continue to elude his grasp. He has served in many armies in many lands. His name is recognized among many mercenary companies as a skilled warrior and he takes his knightly oath of largess and compassion for the weak as well as his unyielding faith in his Gods so seriously that he has made a name for himself, sadly though he can't see this.

[User]
Karvos was the last to join his companions, his tower shield heavily bloodied after smashing in the face of an unlucky and witless marauding Black Talon member who made the mistake of believing that shields were only used for defense and got a tad too close for comfort. The pointy end of his halberd was similarly soiled, though everything else about him was clean besides a few speckles of blood here and there, none of which were his own. His handsome face was relatively calm and quite focused on the task at hand, which matched the confident yet brisk stride that he took as he approached the rendezvous point before the enemy would have a chance to intercept him while he was on his own. Fighting was one of the few things that he was really good at, so as things stood now, the attackers were not all that impressive to him outside of their numbers. He still couldn't fight everyone alone or would be quickly overwhelmed if left out in the open, plus he was bound to run into more competent enemies if they had made it this far into the city without getting killed off or allowing themselves to be distracted by other things.

He didn't introduce himself to the two, only nodding silently as he took a temporary position between them, standing behind the stagecoach that they were approaching. Although he didn't bother introducing himself, revealing the Silver Shield emblem on his bracer and leaving it at that, he felt like they should get on to business quickly so he spoke up.

"I'll take out whoever you need, just so long as I can point a stick at them," he said confidently. "I'm not one for giving orders, only following them."

[Assistant]
Ioetta nodded in response to her comrades. She cracked her neck to one side and rolled the shoulder of her left arm. Favoring it somewhat due to an earlier glancing blow which had left behind marks and indentations in the armor. Then without further hesitation Ioetta held her kriegsmesser in her right hand and began moving forward. Working to quickly close the 23 or so meters to the stagecoach abandoned in the center of the bridge. The sound of metal gently bumping against into metal echoed as the Silver Shield defenders moved up mixing with the cacophony of their feet on the hard flagstone and the screams across the east end of the city.

Lady Ioetta knew once they began to near the enemy would become aware of their presence. Stealth would be no real aid here, but speed would be. Coming to the front of the stagecoach Ioetta slowed her steps as she stopped before an overturned crate. She took a position along the left hand side and waited.

Without turning her head away from that side of the coach, she gestured for one of them to hold the right side of the coach with a wave of her right hand. At least with three of them they could have one reserve member if one side began to falter. She stood so that the coach blocked her profile until one had nearly rounded the corner-- standing just 6 feet from the driver's seat. Standing so that the crate would block underneath the stagecoach. She hardly wanted her feet shot out from under her in case the enemy had come armed crossbows.

She felt her heart hammering in her chest as sweat beaded down her forward. The adrenalin already coursing through her body in anticipation for the violence soon to follow. She slowed her breathing and waited. There was nothing else left to do for now.

[User]
There it was - the sound of footsteps, quickly approaching from the other side of the bridge. Unsurprisingly, their intrusion didn't go by unnoticed - but at least it spared them of the need to creep around. Gernev halted, eyes quickly darting to the palace gates ahead, then down to the coach, confirming that neither of the positions were taken by archers; relived, he threw all caution to the side, breaking into a run headed straight for the coach.

The orc simply bashed down its door, ramming it in with the full weight of his armor-clad body, but then paused just before entering, turning round to face his comrades. Gesturing Phia to stay hidden, quiet and come inside the coach as well, he peered through one of its windows to capture the enemies' positions, and picking a safe moment to do so, hopped right through it, landing with a sharp metal clank from his plated boots. Setting his left foot forwards, heel in line with the right foot's toes, he took a bold, daring stance, mace hanging low, the arm holding it as if almost lazily relaxed, while raising his longsword overhead, in a manner similar to the Ox stance. Hopefully, by that time, Kirian would be making his entrance as well, and together, they could draw all the guards' attention, letting Phia slink into the coach unnoticed.

One of the slivers of his combat savvy, gathered over years spent in raids and military campaigns, told that the best use for a bow and arrow was ambush, and only second best was keeping the enemy at bay. If all went well, for all the hails of steel that felled the Black Talons from Xoni's walls, it would be the Silver Shields who'd be cursing archers in this battle.

[Assistant]
With each step they took, Lars' voice carried as he uttered a prayer to Graff, the God of war and battle. Each word echoing as the chaos outside the walls dimmed a moment. The soft clank of the chain armor, and the beat of the sword pommel against the shield, enhanced the prayer as they kept time with his cadence.

"You are called Gangleri,
Wandering God,
at home nowhere and everywhere;
You are called Sigtyr,
brilliant in Your battle-glory,
born to conquer, to possess the world;
You are called Grimnir,
and by vitki Yggr,
in honor of Your terrible time upon the Tree.

You are known by these and many other names,
and the paths to You are many.
We praise them all, that You may savor
in each of Your guises,
and by whichever name pleases You the most
the fermentation of our spirits.

May these words please You oh God,
and may You bestow upon us,
whose mouths overflow
with adoration and praise,
the terrible grace of Your blessing."

As he finished he prayer, Lars was at the coach, on the eastern most side, the shield pressed against the back of the coach. It was clear that the enemy was upon them. The stench of Orc filled the air. It was a rotten, putrid smell oozing from their pores; a stench that once cursed with smelling, never forgotten.

Smashing the coach heartily with the shield, Lars snarled as the brutish creature hopped out, "Well Lady, it appears the Black Talons have graced us with their ugliest warriors." The coach on his left shoulder, the shield before him as he let the war sword drop into a low guard, the blade jutting up ever so slightly, his booted feet apart. Rising slightly on the balls of his feet, Lars flexed his knees a tad, ready to react forward or back if need be.

The orc, heavily armored and wielding a mace and longsword assumed a posture that the seemed similar to the Ochs, with the sword up and to the outside. The point of the sword aimed somewhat towards Lar's face.

It was a stance normally requiring both hands on the hilt for stability, yet this Orc seemed supremely assured of his position that he carried it with a single hand. It was clear that the poor bastard had some training, not very good training but some training. At least he would offer some fight. The Ochs stance, although not as stable as others, would protect the Orc well enough, and allow him a counter with a straight thrust. Of course if he was skilled he might turn to cut diagonally down, or pull back to cut from underneath. All this of course was possible from the Ochs; however, this Orc carried a mace as well so those moves must be modified to account for the second weapon.

No matter, Lars already gleaned some insight to his opponent already.


[System]
Character Sheet
* Picture: Verbal descriptions just don't cut it for me unless they're memorable. Pictures spur my imagination much better.
* Data: Species (if not human), birthdate (mm/dd/yyyy, standard Roman calendar), height, weight, eye color, hair color, skin color (if not the default medium-dark)
* Blurb: Introduce your character to us and tell us what makes them interesting. Advertise them. Do NOT tell us their whole personality or biography - that should be revealed in-story for best impact. Short and sweet is the rule here.

And that's it! I don't care if you develop skills and abilities on the spot, or if you happen to be carrying something useful that you didn't know you had. This isn't D&D. We're making a story here, so go wild and have fun!

Feel free to create NPCs at your pleasure, so long as they don't usurp your player-character. If you think they might take over your interest, post their character sheets here.

For reference, the current date is January 1st, 3200 A.D.

[User]
When Liliana saw Winter smile at her and compliment her work, her heart filled with pride and gratitude. She smiled warmly back at Winter. "Thank you your majesty. It means so much coming from you. I am truly grateful to be here with you, and I'm glad that my research can be of use to you."

 The cool dressed orc who had entered the room along with her then began to speak and introduce himself to the queen. She didn't know much about orcs, Starkstone didn't get many visitors. The few things she did hear about them didn't exactly paint a pretty picture, but there were always exceptions, and he was exceptional indeed. He introduces himself as Goro, and despite his verbal trippings he spoke with elegance and restraint, something she could appreciate.

 When Goro presented the pineapple to Winter her ladyship became ecstatic. Liliana herself was also pleasantly surprised, albeit not to the extant as the mistress. It looked like a rare species that she would love to get her hands on and inspect, though the beaming excitement that radiated from the angelic immortal is a priceless treasure she would not trade for any other. Who ever Goro is appears to be well traveled and have an eye for the finer things in life.

 A man who looked like he carried a part of the forest with him walked in just as the mistress was serving the pineapple slices. He takes a seat next to Liliana and began to speak. He says his name is Nkosi Naswaru, and that some strange force known as the Mother guided him. A greater spirit perhaps? Perhaps maybe a god? Intriguing. Liliana's barely functioning nose catches the faintest scent of cedar coming of him. He must have some interesting microorganisms growing on him, though somehow she doubted that he would compromise his personal space just to satisfy her curiosity.

 As Liliana bit into the pineapple her mouth was met with an explosion of sweetness. She turned to Goro in wide-eyed excitement, tears of joy running down her face. Not many fruits grew in the arid Grey Canyon, so to taste something this sweet was a welcome change of pace. She then gave a series of short small bows. "This is DELIECIOUS! Thank you so much Goro!" Liliana wiped her tears once more. "Oh! How rude of me. I forgot to introduce myself. I am Liliana Rosenveldt of Starkstone. It is a pleasure to meet you both."  The queen then decided to summon their attention as she gets down to business.

 Liliana heard the proposal that Lady Winter offered them. Goro talked to the queen concerning his ability to write and make use of the notebooks as well as asking about the whereabouts of this "Bay'kin" place the lady was referring to. Nkosi then accepted the invitation and attempted requisition arms and gear for the trip. It was then that Liliana graciously accepts the codex, then kneels before Winter.  "Your divine! I will accept this most holy mission you have granted me! It would be my pleasure to serve you my lord." She stands once more, hugging the tome given to her. "I will cherish this fantastic gift you have given me Lady Winter, and I will bring you all the secrets that I find." she says as she smiles.

 Liliana turns to the two adjacent gentlemen.  "I guess we're all on the same boat. Truth be told I don't have a lot of experience fighting, but I won't hesitate to eviscerate our enemies!"

[Assistant]
Looking at the other two, Goro tried to get a feel for them. This Nkosi's fellow seemed like a rough sort, reminded him of his old captain who taught Goro seafaring. Had a certain air of intimidation but control about him, like a steady ship in a tempest. Still, he also seemed the type to serve his own interests rather than the group, something that Goro didn't like. That sort of mentality is why he left Ulayh in the first place. Plus some other things he disagreed with. "I expect danger, I ain't worried bout dat. But only a git calls dere ignorance bravery, mate. I don't know wot's at Bel'kin, an knowing wot is can help us prepare accordingly. No sense in goin bushwhacking wif only half a sack. In order words, be prepared." Goro learned the hard way of what it was like to go on an adventure unprepared. Indeed the journey here had been quite a struggle because of poor preparation, and that didn't even involve any dangers with brigands or beasts. The trip had been peaceful, but the lack of food, not knowing local medicines or poisonous plants or even where to find shelter in rough weather had did a number on Goro more than any blade or fang has.

As for the other, Goro had his suspicion. Granted, they were racist suspicions. Something about her from her long dark hair, pale stone-like skin, and general sophisticated demeanor made the orc think she was a witch of some sort. His mother would tell him bedtime tales as a child of women with such duality of beauty hiding ugliness, luring young foolish men to their dooms with their sweet faces and kind words. Of course Goro had grown out of such fears, but he would be lying if they didn't make a sudden resurgence looking at this girl. He had to keep himself in check however; last thing he wanted to do was make an enemy of her, witch or not. It was just good business. Otherwise she seemed respectful enough. She enjoyed the fruit and spoke well towards Winter. A bit too much for Goro's taste; it reminded him a lot of the toadies back at home. But at least Winter likely earns that respect.

What did catch Goro off guard was how emotional she got eating the pineapple. He knew it was good but damn, to drive a woman to tears? "Ah. Good ta know. Nice ta meet ya, Lady uh... Lady Liliana." Her following declaration of acceptance towards Winter made Goro really wonder if this lady was off her kilter or not, but then again maybe this was normal where she came from. Goro's people were much more brusque and boisterous when they weren't kissing up to their superiors, so this sort of flamboyance was simply unfamiliar to him. He tried not to think about it too much; as long as Liliana did her part Goro wouldn't mind how she acts. He finishes the rest of his coffee and puts his tome inside of his bag, tightening the straps around his hook hand and moving his club from his backpack to his belt for easy reach. When Liliana was done talking to Winter she turned to Goro and Nkosi, mentioning her inexperience but eagerness for fighting. This got a chuckle from Goro.

"Let's not go lookin fer enemies now. Last thing we need is fer people lookin into magic like us get a rep fer violence and such. Now I don't mind fighting if I gotta, and I ain't not stranger to war, but dat don't mean every confrontation's gotta end in blood and guts. Remember dat Lady Winter is sendin us ta research da magic stuff goin on in Bel'kin, not slaying monsters or taking out a rival gang of lads."