[System]
Will be updated often

Username: Adalrod (Both in game and out)

Pain is fleeting. The feeling of it is already gone, the only thing that remains is its effect on you.
Age: 20

Gender: Male

Main: Malzahar

Appearance: At 5'8", Moritz isn't the tallest whenever it comes to height, yet that doesn't seem to bother him. Moritz's long, black hair and light green eyes are constantly looking straight ahead, or wherever his current destination is. His posture is relatively relaxed, with his hands in his pockets and his head shoulders slouched forwards, but he gives off the air that he is no one to be bullied around. His clothing is typically the same as it is in the picture: rolled up long sleeve shirt, top button unbuttoned, loose tie and a black vest and pants to top it off.

True Appearance: When Moritz's true form is triggered his clothing undergoes no change. Instead, winding blue Arabic-style markings line his body and his eyes turn a searing blue. Moritz's true form is not currently able to be triggered at will, and grants him increase magical abilities for a short spurt of time (About 15 minutes). Heavily fatigued afterwards.

Powers:

Summon Voidling:
Ever since Moritz woke up feeling strange, he has had this annoying voidling following him. The creature is about two feet high, almost like a puppy, but with an insect-like exoskeleton and six legs sharp as knives. It appears relatively peaceful, but any time Moritz uses and ability it appears to be drawn to it, attacking if used on a specific person.

Call of the Void:
Moritz can summon a portal to the Void, which stays open for about five seconds before it loses connection to the "real world" and shrinks into nothing. The portal is about four feet long and three feet wide, and whatever happens while the portal is open is incredibly unpredictable. When in true form lasts for 15 seconds.

Null Zone: (True form only)
Moritz is surrounded in a five feet radius by a field of negative energy which dulls the senses of anyone in its influence and makes their movement sluggish. The closer they are to the center, or Moritz, the more the pressure impacts them and weighs on them... a feeling akin to being underwater with weights on your feet. Expires after Moritz's Prana becomes low. Marick is limited inside the field while in use, and the field is immovable. Projectiles slowed as well.

Malefic Visions:
Self explanatory. Dark visions plague the person afflicting, showing them different ways that they can perish from this world and different tortures applied to their person, including nails digging into skin, suffocating in space, so on. Can range from one vision to many, depending on Marick's prana pool and how much he expends. Max time: One minute. Twice as long while in true form.

Nether Grasp
Moritz grips the target with dark energies, immobilizing both of them for about ten seconds. A feeling of great pressure squeezes on the target, as if they are being squeezed with a great hand. Damage done is purely psychological. Moritz cannot break eye contact, and doing so will break the effect.

Personality: Moritz is relatively laid back and care-free, never really worries about too much. "Whatever happens, I'll live" tends to be his motto as he just pushes through it. Although he may seem like the kind of person to avoid his studies, Moritz is incredibly hard working in class, often working silently as those around him talk about their latest exploits and gossip. He is a bit of an introvert, keeping to himself or to small intimate groups. If there is a party, expect to find him in the corner or talking to a girl he fancies or a close friend... not in the middle of it all.
When it comes to League, Moritz is cool and collected, preferring to stay quiet and focused on the game. League of Legends is his way to simmer down and get away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, so he typically doesn't get very angry when things don't go his way and his team starts losing, but you will never hear him yell at the screen. If a teammate cheats him, he will be the person who won't mention it- until he ditches you in order to live. You deserved that.

Short Biography: Moritz Valiero's family is ridiculously wealthy. In a "Father on Congress and mother CEO of Victoria's Secret" kind of way, yet he never really mentions it. An observant person may notice it through his expensive clothes, or his high-tier gaming equipment, or him living in the most expensive apartment at the University. Regardless, his family has been a staple of the town for awhile and well respected.
An only child, Moritz is prized by his family and he is repeatedly pushed by his father to be a politician, or by his mother to be a businessman. In all actuality, Moritz would be happier having a small job and have more times to just chill at home, maybe just being a waiter at Olive Garden or something. Yet, he has a major in Business and is on his third year doing just that.

Other: Along with Moritz's great powers have come something else. A small voice on the edge of his consciousness, barely perceptible, pushing him to take action. As his prana lowers, Moritz gets more susceptible to the voices and images, his natural energy being the only thing protecting him from its influence. Whatever this voice may be, it wasn't there before, and more and more strange things keep appearing to Moritz Valiero.

[User]
@Leolycan@TheWinchester4@Ambra@Adalrod@DFA@Kiroue

 'I bloody knew it... he was a problem after all.' Clarice thought as she was flung aside. She on purpose didn't bring out her sword when she attacked the Hecarim guy, she didn't really want to injure him much, despite her instincts calling to cut him in two. Still the fact that Claire and someone else interfered and stopped him, was good. She gave a slight note of surprise as the man began to come back to his senses, talking about how that wasn't him." It's more than just powers that we got..." She said as she took a deep breath. Traits and even it seems personalities from the champions were also present in some people. In her case she didn't exactly feel like loosing herself to Garen, but she did feel instincts and thoughts that weren't hers." We will need to be careful from now on... it's possible that all of us may lose it at a some point or another."

 Clarice's eyes flinched for a moment as she noticed what was going on with the woman she saved from being hit. She was losing control of her powers! The fire was starting to burn stronger and stronger. This gathering was a bad idea to be held here! If this went out of control the entire building could be in danger, not to mention all the people inside.

 With a single jump, Clarice found herself right by the burning girl. The heat was almost unbearable, but for some reason she didn't even flinch. That was probably part of Garen... Not to mention her armor was protecting her from the bulk of the fire." I'm sorry, but this is going to hurt..." She said, before her energy gathered in her hand. She didn't want to really injure the Shyvanna girl, she liked her... a lot! She felt her as a comrade, a companion to march side by side... another Garen thing it seemed. Anyhow... this worked in the game so it should work here too. The Decisive Strike should silence it's target. This flame was an ability so it should stop it in it's tracks! As her energy surged through her fist, she hit the stomach of the covered in flames girl." Claire, if this doesn't work, freeze us both!" Clarice called.

[Assistant]
Garrett Fisher

Crap. Garrett winced as his fatal blow slammed straight into the giant gauntlets. The woman threw his dominant arm to the side, and his eyes went wide when he noticed that Vicki was charging up a powerful punch. He threw himself to the side, grunting loudly as the harsh movement literally sapped him of energy. This form was drawing on his energy, already... he would have to get used to it. He struggled to regain his balance, raising his blades once more.

"You're wasting my time," he growled dangerously, producing another shadow beside him. The shade took the same position as he did, its eyes smoldering as it stared at Vicki. With a silent command, the ethereal creature sprang towards her, brandishing blades as it attempted to impale her. "Just die already!"

[User]
Vicki Victory

Just a moment before the shadow clone could impale her, Vicki placed her gauntlets into x-formation, guarding her vulnerable flesh. The metal-on-metal impact resounded with a mighty clang, and Vicki was forced to lean back slightly from the recoil. Vicki pushed back the shadow clone with a forceful shove from both gauntlets, causing it to stagger backwards. In one smooth motion from the push, Vicki brought her left arm down low, priming the boosters.

The steel-plated fist rocketed into an explosive uppercut, landing square on the shadow clone's chin. The black figure went flying, and disappeared in a puff of black vapor upon hitting the ground.

Vicki resumed her boxing stance, bouncing from one foot to the other, her yellow gym shorts flapping from the motion. Just a few seconds ago, she was terrified for her life. Now, Vicki was absolutely enjoying this, even knowing that her life was on the line. She bared a grin at Garrett, taunting him,"Is that all you got, crouching tiger?"

[Assistant]
Alex

Alex sighed, he'd thought it was a good idea, but when everyone had tried cramming in that elevator he'd just gotten a bad feeling and bailed. A few seconds later he was blading away for some food. He didn't know what he'd been thinking. Hanging out with Arthur was fine, but with all those people? Alex'd never been one much for people and to be frank it was usually the other way around as well. The cafe they'd been in earlier had been nice. He turned the corner whistling merrily and entered, only to find that in the otherwise deserted cafe, he could see a women with two mighty gauntlets who could only be Vi and a dark male with blades that belonged to Zed. A champion fight? Already? One of Alex's knifes sprung to his hand and he twirled it idly, "Now, now folks, hows about we all take a step back and talk out our differences like nice people hm?" It was impossible to know who started the fight and Alex wasn't going to take sides in a situation he knew nothing about.

Artemis

Artemis stepped back quickly until she was pressed against the wall furthest from the action. Too quickly. Things were happening much too quickly. Sam without a doubt the champion of Shyvana. What she hadn't anticipated was the flood of people that came afterwards. Things were out of hand. Moonlight appeared around her body and swirled around it in delicate orbs. But she said nothing, merely stood back and watched silently. If she'd this idea was bad before it was nothing compared to what she thought now. The hecarim fought briefly with nearly everyone in the room before giving up and Sam was slowly losing control. Frankly she was surprised Liam and Matt hadn't done something but that was really no concern of her. Every detail of what was occurring was noted down in her mind, to be reviewed at a later date. When the armored women sprung forward Artemis almost stopped her, but her plan did she sound, if nothing else Claire's freezing should work.


[System]
Race: Human??? (Deep One)

Appearance: A squat, 4ft girl that appears to be quite young. She's got the Innsmouth look, with her eyes being set too far apart, her mouth being a little too wide, her skin clammy and grey, and her long black hair matted and unkempt. Her fingers and toes are slightly webbed. She wears an old, faded, dirty dress that's nearly been worn to ribbons. Over top of it she wears what looks like armor made of woven reeds. This armor includes a chest piece, arm guards that extend from her elbows and stop just before her fingers and leggings that likewise start just under her knees and extend to right before her toes. She has a large conical hat, also made of reeds, that she uses to obscure her face.

Inventory: A fife, carved out of a greenish wood. A small knife, for carving said fife.

Special Abilities:

Ignore Terrain (Wet): Mud and muck do not impede Gish's ability to move. She could walk through quicksand and it would have absolutely no effect. In fact, she gets faster when wading through even a small body of water.

Swimmer: In the water Gish is greased lightning. While on land her movements can be clumsy and uncoordinated in the water she's more graceful than any fish, being able to control her direction and reach great speeds in a way that should be impossible. She can somehow propel herself with enough force to leap three times her height.

In addition to these obviously supernatural traits she's also a good wittler, can fish, weave her own clothes, play the fife, and knows the sound of a language her mother called Deep though she's unable to comprehend or speak it herself.

Personality: Ruled by a cautious curiosity, only knowing of most of the world through stories. Deeply religious and chalks thing up to providence. Starting to doubt her gods after a run in with the Mindskitter, though still firmly believes in fate and destiny. Talks a lot when excited or as a defence mechanism. Enjoys speaking and listening to other people speak. Her time in the swamp living with someone she trusted implicitly have left her with a complete inability to lie or hide her emotions.

History: Raised in an inland swamp by her mother. Never knew her father. Mother eventually went into the water and never came back, leaving her to fend for herself. Doesn't know how long ago that was, but it is much longer ago than she figures. She haunts a local town on the edge of the swamp, skulking under windowsills and in attics at night watching and listening to people. Has become something of a local legend.

Other:
-Fascinated by fairy tales and fantastic stories.
-Gets headaches whenever she tries to think too much about certain topics.
-Gish is not her real name. Her mother named her in Deep and she's unable to pronounce either her own name, her mother's, or her god's. Gish is sort of a contraction of what she's heard the people in town call her. She picked Gish because it was either that of Firl and she thought the former sounded better.

[User] Echo got untangled and stayed away from the silk after Lila helped him out of it. The fight didn't leave much space for him to get involved, but it ended quickly afterwards. As the fight ended and Cyrano began eating on the dead undead man, introductions began to be exchanged. Echo found a good spot and began to write with his light as the others introduced themselves. "Hello, I am mute and my name is Echo." The group had set the dead man on fire now and he was quite efficiently turning to ash now. He gave a bow to everyone as the introduced themselves in a sense to say 'it's nice to meet you' with his actions.

[Assistant]
Unyat watched the group descend towards him, and was struck by curiosity. Each of them were interesting in their own right, the animal thing was something he wanted to know more about. he had not seen such a creature before. As he stared intently on the chimera the woman said something to him. It took several moments before he realized that she was addressing him. Turning his gaze to the woman he noted her defensive stance, something that was entirely normal for Unyat as he was rarely greeted with open arms.

He struggled with the language, even though he knew it was some kind of greeting or hail he was unsure of the reply. Grumbling to himself in several languages lost to time before he tried one, but when he spoke they only heard brutal sounding gibberish. Noting their confused reaction, he tried again with another language, "Greetings, I am Unyat, the seeker Gods." Each word sounded as though he was pronouncing it very carefully and deliberately. For those with magical knowledge, it seemed that he was somewhat treating language as a communication spell where each word had to be pronounced exactly or it would not work.

After speaking he shifted again to watch the animal creature intently, as though he were studying its every movement and trying to understand how the creature worked.

[User]
The undead that had attacked them had been dispatched in a most gruesome manor. Lila was sure she did not want to be on the receiving end of Fazra's hammer. The gargoyle had started to eat the much to her surprise. She may be considered a monster herself, but eating such never came to her mind. Mathias thankfully offered a reasonable solution and the body was burned. Oddly it seemed they all watched the thing slowly reduce to ashes

Cyrano made his way over and decided to stop by Lila. She was not entirely sure what to make of the creature made of stone. He was not like any stone golem she'd ever seen. He was much less cobbled together and had more of a... natural appearance? She did not quite have the words to describe it ever to herself. Never the less she was asked about herself and Mathias. Shaking her head she gestured back down the tunnel they'd come from. "No not at all. I would say that it's only been a couple hours since we've met. I was rescued from the water by Sir Godfrey. I am thankful to him for that and that he did not attempt to kill me in such a helpless state." Looking around to all the others she thought it perhaps a good time to try and learn something of this place.

Directed at no one in particular Lila put her hands together "I thought that as a creature of the depth I had a fairly good knowledge of the underground. However I do not recognize anything here. Even the air seems different. Do any of you know where it is we are?" Probably a bit wordy, but speaking with people wasn't the most common thing for her. It was actually quite exciting to have the chance to speak freely without the undue risk that was usually afforded her.

[Assistant]
Cyrano listened and considered lilas words carefully, head cocked to one side, watching the fire burn away the monstrosity.
He nodded at her words as she finished speaking and posed her question to the group, reflecting on his own experiences since entering the Endless halls.

"We as well have only been venturing together for a short time, and I myself at least have only been in these halls for a short time. I don't know where we are... or even have much more than a vague memory of anything before the halls."
Cyrano twitched his ears back and forth, something that might have been the gargoyle version of a consternated frown passing over his face.
"Do you then have memories beyond this place?" He asked her hesitantly, but also eagerly, and continued "or some other frame of reference whereby we can understand where we are?"

[User]
Rose nodded slowly as the creature introduced himself. "Uh-huh. I'm sure we'll be great friends, uh... Unyat." Her grin slowly grew. "Alright, Unyat the Seeker... Gods." She lowered her staff, once again using it to support herself. "So, you're not the hostile sort of creature are you? I'm assuming so, since you haven't attacked us yet. If that's so you can be sure that I won't attack you either." Rose said with a small wink, unsure if the creature would understand what a wink was. Rose spoke again, "Well, if you're not going to attack us, I'll go and inform my companions, who seem to have conveniently disappeared. That must mean they trust my ability to protect them! I'm sure. It's nice to know that they have so much faith in me. I mean, they wouldn't just leave me to get killed by some sort of eldritch abomination, right? Uh, no offense, Unyat." Rose wasn't really talking to him anymore- she was talking for her own benefit, reveling in her own train of thought. She cleared her throat, "Well, uh, I'm going to... yeah..." She said, beginning to back away towards the lake midway through her sentence.

Rose found that their party had grew since she last saw them. "Oh! Little Luciel, Gish, it appears you've made a new fr-" She stopped mid-sentence, sniffing the air. What was that smell? She followed it slowly, and found herself slowly edging closer towards the new arrival. She approached him quickly, moving her face unreasonably close to his body and sniffing him. She backed away. "I don't like the way you smell." She stated plainly, offering no explanation for her strange behavior. "Anyways... the monster. His name is Unyat, and it doesn't seem like he means us any harm. All the same I'd be wary of him... and this one as well." She said, gesturing towards William. Despite her serious tone a sly smile still graced her face. She would've also warned them to be wary of Victor, but it wasn't hard to tell that he'd already become accepted into their group.

Rose moved to examine the lake. She looked into it making a queer face. The lake bottom was completely smooth, with no evident pathway for the water to drain itself from. "Hmmmmm... how strange... no river, no hole to drain into... this cavern has quite the mystery going, wouldn't you agree?" She said to no one in particular. "Perhaps we should just leave. After all, poking around places like this rarely helps... although I would like to know what those scarecrows are. And that cottage could have something in it... who knows?" She said with a coy smile. "I'll leave the decision to... Miss Gish." She said, nodding to herself, clearly pleased with her decision to not decide and her notion to pick the group's leader without input from the others. Rose had seemed to have taken the leading role in the group for herself, but even Rose knew that this wasn't a great idea. Who in their right mind would let Rose lead? That would simply be asking for trouble.

"If I might add, I don't really like this place, although I am curious about it. But don't let me influence your decision." It seemed like Rose was intent on arguing both sides. "I do have one more piece of advice that may influence our decision to investigate. The scarecrows... I am at least seventy-eight percent sure that they have been made by a witch." Seventy-eight was an arbitrary number, as Rose was actually quite certain they were of witch-origin. "Although... well, I'm sure most of you don't really know all that much about witches, so allow me to provide some exposition. Witch's aren't necessarily evil, you see... of course stories would have you believe otherwise, but there's an important distinction to be made. Witches, you see, come in two varieties." Rose held up two fingers to cement the idea. "You see, there are the witch's that most of you are familiar with, which are called Malevolent Witches. The evil sort, you know? But there are also Benevolent Witches. They're technically witches, but instead of doing the typical 'witch' things they're more like... folk healers. They use White Magic. While the Malevolent sort uses Black Magic. Simple, right?" Rose wrapped up her explanation that no one actually asked for. There were much more caveats to the classification of witches, but Rose didn't care to explain them. "Of course I'm explaining this because I suspect the witch that made those uses White Magic and I'm feeling helpful." She gave a wink to Gish and then took a seat, deciding to be a simple observer of what the group would do.

[Assistant]
Gish was about to answer when Victor wandered up, and she cursed herself for letting the opportunity to pass on Rose's warning slip through her fingers. "It's not that strange, you know." She said to William. "Waking up here, I mean. It's what I did. I don't think it's that uncommon to just end up here somehow. I don't know why, but there's a reason for it. I'm sure. You'll find it."

Rose had come up while she had been talking and Gish tensed up when she leaned close to William and declared that he smelled wrong. Gish had no idea what that meant, except that maybe the witch didn't find him very appetizing. She told them that the monster, which could apparently speak, was named Unyat and that it, apparently speaking, meant no harm. Gish glanced back at the slithering mess and wasn't sure she bought that, but Rose hadn't either and advised caution against it and William. She didn't quite see what the witch had against him, and the sly little smile that was constantly on her face made her think the she was just playing some headgame with them.

The next thing she said, however, made her think there was some sort of game she was playing with Gish in particular. After looking into the water and confirming that there was nowhere for this water to drain she was shocked when Rose passed off the decision of whether to stay or leave onto her. She didn't even know what that wink meant. Was there such a thing as good witches or was that a lie? There were different versions of the old story and she'd never believed them. Her mother had never told her about good witches, and she'd normally take that as gospel, but there was this doubt now wrapped around her brain like a snake. Despite Luciel's and Rose's opinions this place didn't feel bad barring the slithery mess hanging around. This place felt like her home. Maybe if there was white magic she could find something in the house to help protect her against the bad kind. Maybe then she'd feel safe asking Rose a few questions.

She swallowed deeply, took one more nervous glance over at Unyat, and said "I want to look in the house. Let's all look in the house." Then, blatantly giving some shallow justification, said, "There might be food. We're going to have to eat down here so we shouldn't pass that up." She didn't feel bad stealing from someone's home, it was practically how she got every little luxury she owned. Happy that this was justified with good sense she set off to take a closer look at the cottage.


[System]
R.I.S.C. Dossier

---
Age

16

Physical Evaluation

Quinnlash is a young woman, five foot three, average build, and slightly underweight. She has very long hair (dark gray streaked with bright yellow) cut into sharp, straight bangs in front, and typically tied into a braid. When tied, it ends at approximately hip height. Untied, it falls nearly to her knees. She has extremely pale skin, unmarked with the exception of scarring around her empty eye socket (right), over which she wears a black and yellow eyepatch. Her remaining eye (left) is brilliant yellow. She has a sharp chin and jawline. Her muscle mass is slightly beneath consistent with regular exercise, and she is somewhat clumsy. She has a tendency to stumble if she isn't watching where she steps.

Psychological Profile

Quinnlash has some very strange psychological markers that nonetheless make sense when her history is taken into account. She is very much

1) Outgoing
2) Friendly
3) Cheerful
and 4) Supportive,
as well as

1) Anxious
2) Emotionally volatile
3) Prone to attention-seeking behavior
and 4) Highly competitive.

In addition, she seems to bear a great deal of attachment issues (for more information, check her background information).

Background Information

Neither we nor Quinnlash herself know exactly where she was born, but all she can remember is the house she lived in for sixteen years in Hovvi. Specifically, she remembers her own room, as she only left it—without permission, I might add—twice in her life. She was kept completely isolated by her parents, researchers on Modir and modium, and was only aware of what they allowed her to be. The only notable incident throughout her life was, as far as can be told, two or three months after she snuck out into the living room and saw the outside world for the first time. Her right eye spontaneously burst (very likely a result of sudden modium growth) and was subsequently removed.

The second time she snuck out was fully, immediately before meeting Besca, which was the first time she actually left her house. She was intimidated and fascinated, and the world seemed to stare at her very strangely. The only known survivor of the Hovvi Incident, she was removed from the town's ruins and taken to the Aerie, where she was subsequently tested for compatibility and given a modioscory to interface with a Savior.

There are a number of strange medical anomalies present in Quinnlash's system, such as her bright yellow eye and the hair being naturally yellow. More pressing is the unfeasible level of modium present in her entire system when she was first retrieved post-Hovvi Incident, and the filed and maintained seed growth of modium in place of her missing eye. Interim-Commander Darroh has taken over care of the child's training as a pilot, and should be contacted for any inquiries.
Savior

---

Designation

Ablaze

Body

Tall and lean, Ablaze is on the thinner side for a Savior. Long scutes of modium not unlike those found on some aquatic organisms run along the arms and legs, forming a sort of natural armmor-weapon combination. The fingers are long and end in sharp claws. At the pilot's request, its right eye has been covered with a thick plate of metal.

Weapon

Ablaze's weapon, suited to the name, is a cannon as long as long as Ablaze is tall that fires explosive blasts of fire. The mechanism by which it produces this fire is unknown. When phased, the cannon gains a charge mechanism, allowing her to charge a shot for up to five seconds to increase the destructive yield considerably, up to approximately twice the size and intensity of the blast at full charge. In addition, the cannon shots can be detonated on command, or detonation can be delayed as a form of trap.

[User]
Quinn stared. Numb. Numb again. Numb with panic. Numb with fear.

But still again...Quinnlash urged her on.

She was so tired. So, so tired. And she didn't want to plug back in, didn't want to feel those fierce ripping pains again. But...she had to.

A beacon.

To light up the world around her.

And keep everyone there safe.

So, eye still on the sword-wielding Modir—god, she'd never fought a Modir before—she ran through the still-open skullport. Slammed the door. Flashes of white walls echoed around her. She gritted her teeth. Ignored them.

Keep everyone there safe.

"I'm plugging in." A moment. "Send Dahlia up, get her in Dragon. I don't know if I—" She cut herself off. The exhaustion was still there in her voice, and now a desperate fear came with it. But it had tightened, tensed. She had to do this. She was the only one who could. But no, she knew. She remembered Hovvi. She wouldn't—

And then as she clambered into the chair, suddenly—unexpectedly—her chest filled with joy. Unfiltered, unrefined, unwelcome. But there nonetheless. Because here, she didn't need to wait for the perfect shot. She didn't need to avoid shooting, taking care not to hit anything vital. She had no need to hold herself back, play on the defensive.

Roaki wasn't a monster.

This was.

Quinnlash Loughvein reconnected.

It hurt. A lot. The pain sliced back through her. But, tearing in sharp, ragged breaths, she fought through it and stood. Faced the Modir square on. Reached. Gripped. Pulled. The cannon dropped back into her hands. Everything was quiet, for just a moment. They looked at each other. Her heart quaked. No matter what she said...no matter what she'd told herself...she was so afraid. So horribly, horribly afraid.

Then the cannon in her hands roared, and the flame seared forth. She began to circle around, limping, trying to draw the creature away from the camp as best she could. A sudden feeling of tranquility took over her as she prepared for another fight. One from which she was...pretty sure she wasn't coming home.

"Deelie, are you there? Can you hear me?"

[Assistant]
The answer to both questions was yes.

"Quinn! Just hold on, I'm headed to the lift now, I'm—I'll let it take me low enough for a good angle and then I'm dropping down! Just keep your distance!"

Strangely, that didn't seem like it would be too difficult. The swordsman turned its body sideface as Quinn's shot flew past it, exploding harmlessly on a distance hill. It matched her circling, and as the space grew between them it didn't swerve to chase her. Instead, it reached down and plucked up one of the axes buried into the ground, not yet returned to the void. It stared at Quinn silently, and clutched the axe's haft hard.

White flames burst to life on the head, as though activated. Only that couldn't have been so—Modir never had two weapons. Did it mean to come at her with both? To make good on Roaki's promise to gut her, to tear her limb from limb?

Evidently not. The flames on the axes grew brighter, spread from the blades down into the hilt, and burned deep. The swordsman's grip closed harder, and there was a metallic keening sound, brief but sharp, before the blazing axe crumbled into embers. Far away, its twin collapsed into dust. It was nothing at all like how weapons were normally dismissed. What on Illun had it done?

She didn't get much of a chance to wonder. Strange task done it kept walking, still staring straight at her but not a step towards her. Why? It had obviously come for a fight, and with the camp so far away, she was the only one—

It stopped over Blotklau, and before Quinn could even realize what it was doing, it lifted its sword high and plunged it down into the Savior's chest. The fuller flared, the ichor that poured out from Blotklau's heart burned and spewed silvery smoke. The swordsman tilted its head, pulled the blade free, and then repositioned it over the Savior's face.


[System]
*Universe: Super Mario Brothers
*Appearance: "OH YEAH! WARIO TIME!"

*Personality: Wario is extremely greedy and will do anything to get money, be it stealing or going on an adventure (but mainly the latter- nobody cares if you take stuff from villains or ruins!). He is also a miser, as he never lets anyone touch his treasure. While he is hot-headed, disgusting, and greedy, he's also something of a polymath- he regularly builds additions to his castle, he designed, built, and wired Wario Stadium, he is the founder and CEO Emeritus of the Fortune 500 video game company WarioWare, has a pilot's license, designed and built a teleportation helmet, and is a regular participant in the Mario Kart Grand Prix. However, there are consequences for such a busy man- Wario's hygiene is absolutely atrocious.

*Powers/Skills: Despite his obesity, Wario is quite athletic and wields superhuman strength that both exceeds that of Mario's and rivals that of Bowser and Donkey Kong. Simply by punching the ground, he causes the earth to shake! Wario's weight also lends itself to his signature moves: a charging shoulder bash which can break through stone and brick with ease, a powerful running charge which lets him bowl over enemies like they were made of cardboard, and the ground pound- if he gets enough height, he can shake the earth even harder. Surprisingly, Wario also seems to be nearly invulnerable- though attacks send him flying. Whether he's set on fire, turned into a vampire, flattened, frozen, trapped in a cocoon, or force-fed food until he can barely walk, Wario can just walk it off, seemingly none the worse for wear.

Wario is, depending on who you ask, a thief, an adventurer, or a game developer. In truth, it's a little of all three. His first major crime, capturing Mario Castle in retaliation for Mario's childhood bullying, didn't go over so well, and ended with him booted out of Mario Land.

A number of unsuccessful revenge plots later, Wario decided he'd build his own castle- one better and more opulent than the Mario Castle the plumber left abandoned. One day, Wario learned that the Brown Sugar Pirates, led by the fearsome Captain Syrup, had stolen a massive golden statue of Princess Toadstool. With Mario already hunting for the statue, Wario saw an irresistible opportunity to show up his old rival: if he could find the statue before the plumber, then Princess Toadstool's ransom combined with the plunder of the Brown Sugar Pirates would give him enough money to buy a castle even bigger and better than Mario's. So Wario set out to reclaim the golden statue. After a long journey, culminating with a battle against the captain and her Genie, Wario escaped the collapsing pirate fortress with the pirate queen's loot. However, Wario's main objective, the golden statue of Princess Peach, was reclaimed by Mario (whom it was stolen from originally by Captain Syrup). Fortunately for Wario, the genie was so grateful for being freed from Syrup that he used his powers to make Wario his own castle! Of course, Captain Syrup would not take this sitting down, and captured Wario Castle with her pirate army! Flooding the castle and stealing the treasures, she ran off, leaving Wario to chase her around the world in pursuit of his ill-gotten gains. After fighting through a legion of bosses, he repaid Syrup by emptying out her treasure hoard, fueling the flames of their ongoing rivalry.

Wario's adventures continued, from the Music Box World to the five multidimensional corridors of the Ancient Pyramid. He started up WarioWare after discovering just how much money could be made from video games, and releases a new Mega Microgames now and again to experiment with evolving hardware. He invested his fortune in pharmacies, shipyards, and gold mines, and has seen a tremendous return. His most recent journey took him to the Shake Dimension, where he retrieved a bottomless coin sack... only to have it stolen by Captain Syrup. However, he managed to keep most of the OTHER treasures from the Shake Dimension, and his hoard is larger than ever. Of course, there's no such thing as enough treasure, and the multiverse provides an infinite amount of consequence-free plunder!

*Equipment: A number of Nintendo DS systems, with demo copies of Wario Ware and Wario Ware Touched.

[User]
Souji Mitsuka - Mahora

Souji had thought that his luck had been looking up when he had spotted someone at last, in this mess of food. Well, he'd seen other people, but they seemed a bit preoccupied at the moment, or they just hadn't heard him. Besides, it was a fellow redhead, so maybe he'd get more lucky? One could hope.

That luck had been dashed though as she presented some sort of giant spear, leveling it his way. That brought him to a halt quick, hands raised in a gesture of surrender. This was...not good. She was armed, and he could hardly turn into Tailred right in front of her. If she was going to use that thing, then he would need to figure out how to escape from her sight so he could transform and let Red handle it. He had no other choice.

But for now, he had to play it safe. He gave the girl a quick look over, noting the collected food and the costume, which certainly caught his interest. Maybe she was another Gear user, like him? That would be fortunate. "Sorry," he apologized with a smile, doing his best to leave a good impression. "It's just that I don't know where I am, and my GPS isn't working." Hopefully that would serve as an explanation.

[Assistant]
Sakura Kyouko

Kyoko raised an eyebrow as the boy raised his hands in surrender. Huh. So he did have some kind of brains in there if he surrender. Though on the other hand if she was the type she could pretty easily kill him like that, but she wasn't just going to murder him for no reason. It didn't benefit her and why would she do that kind of crap anyway? The redheaded magical girl raised her spear and rested it on her shoulder, tilting her head to one side as she bit down on another chip. After a few moments of crunching, she swallowed and decided to give him a reply.

"Whatever. I dunno where this is, but you'd have to be pretty stupid to think a GPS'd work somewhere this weird," she said, walking over to the nearby pocky flower as she placed the potato chip bag aside. Grabbing two sticks and pulling them free, she bit into both at once. Yes, they were just as tasty as the pocky she usually ate. Even with how much the situation pissed her off, this was a pretty awesome place to go. If only it hadn't been against her will!

"I just got teleported her a few minutes ago," Kyouko continued, two pocky sticks in her mouth as she spoke, "I'm kinda ticked about just gettin' dragged here or whatever."

Raising her spear off her shoulder, she twirled it once, a fanged grin returning to her face. "I'm gonna be askin' whoever's in charge of this a few questions."

[User]
Ranma- Mahora

Gratefully using his pair of chopsticks to pluck the proffered treat from Chun-Li's hands, Ranma deftly flicked the cookie up into the air towards his face before chomping on the bite-sized treat with graceful ease and spilling not a single crumb. "Ehh, par the course for me. This ain't the weirdest thing I've ever been through, not by a long shot. Thanks fer the cookie by the way." It wasn't often that people gave food to the pigtailed boy and wanted nothing in return, which was honestly rather refreshing to the martial artist. Rustling around in his green kerchief turned impromptu holding sack that was humorously bulging with various pilfered meals, the boy took out a Japanese style curry bread and held it back to the Chinese officer.

"Personally though, I ain't ever seen people literally growing home cooked meals on tree before though I've seen ramen that gave people ridiculous strength and a man who's trained in martial arts dining that he can stuff a watermelon in his mouth and has a tongue the length of his body. That and Martial Arts Takeout. That's probably the closest things I've seen compared to this and that's just cause they're food themed." Directing this towards the person of indeterminate gender under the tree, Ranma plucked another bento and held it out to Kino with a smile. "You look like you need a meal. I can vouch for its edibility, so don't worry about it." The boy then had a strange look in his eye as he tried to connect the dots on this particular Challenge.

"Probably if everything's food themed, the Challenge will be either... cooking something up, or gathering something special considering there's food everywhere. Maybe our goal's to get to a rare food that ain't literally growing off the sidewalk..." Speaking his conjectures out loud in between digging into his bento, the boy had a thoughtful gaze. One did not experience much weird themed shenanigans without noticing a pattern, and the young man in question had a LOT of experience. "...Also judging by the size of some food, there might be things that are bigger than that... No such thing as a free meal." With the box finished up, he idly threw it backhand style so the emptied container spun through the air and into a nearby trashcan. "Gonna hafta get a bit of exercise today too since there's so much stuff to eat... too much..."

"I was sorta expecting a martial arts challenge, though that might just be due to it being the stuff I regularly have to go through back home. Martial Arts Eating Contest, Martial Arts Fast Food Delivery, Martial Arts Calligraphy, Martial Arts Tea Ceremony. Kept having to fight some weird yahoos due to this or that on their own home turf, with ridiculous themed stuff all the time. Heck, I'm expecting to have a literal food fight later on in the day!" The sad thing was, Ranma was only half joking as he talked with Chun-Li about the Challenge. That and the fact he WAS keeping an eye out on the stuff just in case it came alive and attempted to perform violent actions was just proof of the many weird events he personally experienced. "What came to yer mind when you heard challenge?" Idly leaning back against the bough of the branch, he gave off a small sigh of contentment and pat his stomach, enjoying the nice day while it lasted. After all, push came to shove, he'd probably have to fight sooner or later. He always did.

[Assistant]
Wario, Mahora
Wario was bashing his way through boulders, hard candy logs, and tremendous slabs of peanut brittle as he pursued a giant pink crab. The crab's long, spidery legs let it clamber over the landscape effortlessly, moving over tree trunks, cars, boulders, dumpsters, and creatures with relative ease. Its huge, meaty claws lifted and threw whatever it didn't climb over at the yellow-clad plumber.

Wario, however, did not have long legs. He couldn't go OVER the obstacles between him and his prey. So he just went through them. Jumping through one of the boulders, he finally managed to find a grip on the crab's leg, beginning to pull it closer to him. The crab continued scrabbling to get away, but Wario eventually tightened his grasp and began shaking the titanic creature. Small pinkish pearls flew off in every direction as Wario shook the creature up and down, leaving it with spinning eyes. With its coat of pink bubbles gone, the crab was only about the size of a basketball, most of its size coming from the disproportionately long legs that held it several feet off the ground. It looked up in terror as Wario dropped it, punting it like a football.

"GET LOST, LOSER!"

Wario ran around picking up the bubbles the creature left behind, stuffing a fistful into his mouth. After all, those rocks earlier were delicious, so why not this stuff too? As he swallowed another fistful, he was pleased to notice that it tasted like that gunk the kids put in their fancy tea drinks- Boba or something. It was then he took out a large sack and began shoving the boba into it.

"OH YEAH! This stuff's crazy sweet! I could make a mint selling bubble tea!"

Of course, this meant only one thing: He must hunt. He must find tomatoes, garlic, all the things that make Italian cuisine wonderful. That girl who dressed like Young Cricket was able to support herself with Chinese food- it stood to reason he could turn a profit with Italian!


[System]
Date of Birth: October 30th, 1997
SEO License: Iron

Physical Description
Reference
Sierra is a girl at an average height, around 5'6" with lightly tanned skin and bright wavy blonde hair which is usually pulled back into a ponytail aside from one piece which hangs off to the side of her face. She has big but somewhat slanted hazel eyes, often compared to those of a cat's, with full pink lips that often hold a teasing grin. She has high cheek bones which cause her cheeks to seem a bit puffy, to her despair, she often seen pulling or squishing them in the mirror with a distressed expression. Her ears are slightly pointed, she often joking about how she was half leprechaun.
Sierra has a full figured body but a toned one, from all of her track and field years. She especially has thick muscular thighs, making her kicks something you want to avoid at all costs (it freaking hurts!) She is a little thicker at the hips, which she is quite proud of, though she does wish her top was a little more balanced. She has firm abs, but they aren't very visible. Sierra often wears a pair of jogging shorts and higher cut shirt which touches the top of her belly button, along with a sport bra underneath with socks and jogging shoes, sometimes a jogging jacket. It's what she wore since 6th grade, and she is most comfortable in it— so she isn't changing it!!

Psychological Profile
Sierra is quite the wild child, the emphasis being on child. She has a touch of ADHD, so keeping her in one place or on task is about as pleasant as pulling teeth. She constantly has an overabundance of energy, some referring to her as "the Energizer rabbit" because of it. If she's not doing one thing, you better expect her to be doing something else.
She isn't the calculating type, and tends to rush head on into things. Sierra likes to get things done, and can't wait around for slowpokes to come up with a detailed plan. This makes her a bit rebellious, and is known to go against orders if she truly feels the need to. However, Sierra is an asset due to her mere instincts. She's very attuned to the environment around her, though it may not seem like it, and notices every little thing. She is especially good at reading people and their emotions, and is a very outgoing friendly person, even if she does seem to be a spazz to outsiders. Sierra is often caught drinking coffee or other caffeinated beverages, and is always in a bright and cheery mood- if she's not, something must really be wrong. She can be teasing and playful, but if you dare to wake her up when she's fallen asleep, well... let's just say it's better not to test it.

Medium Talent: Minor electrokinesis. She can fry small electronic devices or power them up just from touching them and sending electricity through her fingertips. Sierra also has the ability to add electricity to her punches or kicks, giving the person a shock when she hits them, but nothing that would cause any more damage than a normal attack. The more she uses it, the more it affects her. She can get headaches, nosebleeds, fainting spells or could even die if she really overdoes it. Sometimes when she is angry, her hair will crackle with the currents she gives off.

Qualifications
* Track Star: Sierra has been a track star for over nine years of her life and has won multiple trophies for it. She's extremely fast on her feet and has a lot of energy to spare, making it hard to tire her out.
* Girls can be strong too!: Sierra is very powerful for her stature, especially in her legs. On a machine, she can push nearly 200 pounds with ease with just her legs. Kicking down doors is particularly her specialty.
* Team spirit: Sierra has incredible moral boosting abilities, able to cheer on the most unwilling of people and spark a fire in people's hearts. She can get almost anyone moving if she puts her mind to it, and easily brings a group of people together.

Profile
Despite her cheery demeanor, Sierra has had a recent chain of bad events happen to her. Her father left her mother and her when Sierra was young, so she only had her mom for a long time. Her mother tried her best, but it was hard financially and Sierra had trouble at school with classes, but they couldn't afford a tutor. In order not to fail her first year in middle school, the school cut a deal with Sierra and her mother. It appeared the PE teacher noticed Sierra's ability in running, and had recommended her to Track and Field. The principal offered if Sierra would join Track and keep her grades at least mostly at low Cs, they would let her pass. Sierra agreed, and excelled far past what was expected in track, earning trophies and money rewards that helped out at home.
When she was going into college on a sport scholarship, her mother got ill. Sierra rejected the scholarship to stay home and take care of her mother, but she passed away a few months later. Sierra, still lacking in funds, went to her aunt- the one her mother said was absolutely insane, and to ignore.
Sierra's aunt was a medium, and had told Sierra she had predicted her mother's death and warned Sierra's mother but she didn't listen. Sierra didn't believe her. The aunt went on to tell her how as an infant, Sierra was haunted by a poltergeist. She was always surrounded by spirits, but her mother rejected the very thought. The aunt protected Sierra from them behind her mother's back whenever she came over, but the mother still thought her sister was insane.
Sierra stormed out of the house, distressed. When she was walking down an alley, she felt a cold hand on her shoulder. Thinking it was a pervert, she attempted to hit him- but her fist went right through. Sierra was in disbelief, and would have been killed if her aunt hadn't come in and rescued her, dying in the process from the exertion it put on her.
Sierra found a number in her aunt's pocket, one to the SEO. She went to the organization and joined as her niece, wanting to put her abilities to good use.

[User]
Mirela Zima

April 10th

This was the first time Mirela stepped anywhere outside of the Eastern Hemisphere, mainly Europe. The letter she received days beforehand detailing her new job was held tightly in her hand. The transfer came as a shock since she was just starting out in SEO when they offered her a position operating comfortably around Eastern Europe.
She stared out the bus window as it left the Seattle airport vicinity and towards the city.

Mirela started to feel anxious as the bus zoomed past the buildings. Her heart pounded at what awaited her at the location mentioned in the letter. What more were the people she'd most likely be working with. English wasn't her first language but she's no stranger to it. She actually preferred it since many in Europe spoke it as a 1st or 2nd language. Nevertheless, the words come out like smooth silk for her and to others with the slight Slavic accent that she had made it unique yet pleasant to the ears.

The hopped herself off the bus not too far from her destination. With a black duffle bag slung over her shoulder and the map in hand, she walked around taking in the sites and the spring of the city. She dressed rather casually donning a basic white t-shirt with a light nylon black jacket over it and wore dark jeans decoratively ripped at the knees and Chestnut combat boots.
After a short walk, she spots two women conversing outside what should be the building they were to meet in. Mirela held her chin up and approached the two hoping they were here for the same thing as her. One girl had a chipper tone to her while the other matched the mood of the rain that had occurred earlier.
Upon approaching them Mirela repeatedly ran over what she wanted to say in her mind and once reaching them the words came out chopped and her accent thicker than usual,
"H-hello my name is Mirela Zima. Nice to meet you, maybe ve... head inside now...?" She mentally kicked herself at the stumbling of words. She looked towards the wall between the two apartment buildings and found herself puzzled.

[Assistant]
April 3rd
Location: Deep Sea Fortune Telling, a small soothsaying clinic in New Zealand.

Shen-Mu was in her chamber meditating when she received the letter; she typically sat and meditated when she didn't have any customers. The man upfront, an assistant of sorts who ran the cash register, the customers coming in, and helped Shen-Mu with things that would require eyesight; such as reading paper or things out of Shen-Mu's "detection" range.

Interrupting her meditation, her caretaker walked into her booth with her mail. Reading it out loud to her, Shen-Mu ran the message over in her mind.

To be summoned... Shen-Mu said, not breaking her position. Shaking her head, the blind seer questioned the letter To pick me... What a choice. No matter, I will go. Will you accompany me on this, Emanuel?
Oh course, Miss. Emanuel nodded, Should I make preparations for the trip now?
Tomorrow. Changes of clothes. Some food for the flight. A spare cane. We will leave as soon as possible, but there is much to do in such short notice.
Then I'll find a person to watch the place. He was with a nod, Anything else?
That is all. You may leave, so that I may regain my focus. Shen-mu said, trying to get back into her meditation.

April 10th

Shen-Mu didn't enjoy the slight over. Overall, she didn't like flights or moving vehicles at all. Made her feel sick to her stomach. But, as she got off her plane, she grew in confidence. Just a car ride away now. Then, as she grew closer to the location, she spoke to Emanuel. Drop me off here. I can make it the rest of my way on my own. Enjoy the area, you deserve a vacation while I work.
Y-yes... He said with a nod, Call me when you need me, Miss.

---

Despite her disability, she made her way to the location just fine. Able to sense the world around her just fine, she could navigate surprisingly well, combined with her guidance cane to not bump into anything.

Finally, she made it to the designated location, arrived a bit late as the others had already arrived. There stood a young looking woman. From her pale skin and hair, she showed signs of albinism. Over her face, she wore a blind fold, keeping any tiny debris out of her eyes. Shen-Mu she said, introducing her name before going quiet. She listened to the people around her, how they talked, their mannerisms, down to the tiniest fidget. She planned on forming her opinions in time.

[User]
Mackenzie "Kenzie" Holt

"Uuurgh, never again..."

The living room spun sickeningly around Mackenzie as she opened her eyes, instantly shutting them again when the light proved to be too much. With a groan, she pressed a hand to her throbbing head, feeling slimy day-old foundation under her fingers.

She stirred. Here went nothing. Letting out another moan, she propped herself up. Big mistake. Her neck and shoulders ached from the weird position she'd slept in, and she felt as if someone were striking at her forehead with an icepick. It was all she could do not to throw up on the couch.

Of course she'd go and let this happen again. The morning's payback was something she wasn't exactly going to think about at the time. Besides, she'd had to celebrate having been chosen for the new site somehow.

... The new site.

"Oh shit." One glance at the clock, and she staggered upright, ignoring her protesting head and stomach. She showered as quickly as her stiff limbs would allow, changing out of the party dress she'd fallen asleep in and into her frayed-jeans-and-vest-top combo, trying and failing to make her hair resemble something other than a bird's nest that had been hit by a particularly violent gale. There was no time for coffee or a bacon sandwich. Not that she wanted to think about food right now anyway. Gathering the belongings she'd need, she stumbled out of the door.

Despite nearly getting on the wrong train, she managed to make it to her destination. The damp chill to the air was starting to make her feel more awake, even if just a little. As she walked, she sang to herself, softly and off-key. If she could seem cheerful and carefree, maybe she could trick herself into feeling that way.

"But it don't make no difference, cause I ain't gonna be easy, easy, the only time I'm gonna be easy's when I'm killed by death, killed by death, killed by de-"

She stopped. That was odd. As soon as the manor came into view, it stood out. Not just because its old, forbidding appearance contrasted with the modern buildings surrounding it. The place didn't give off the same spiritual energy other areas did. Maybe her senses were a little thrown off at the moment, Kenzie thought. Then again, she'd visited a fair number of strange locations during her time in the SEO.

Just as she'd expected, the others had turned up first, a small group already outside the gates. She hurried, her headache spiking, the spring in her step turning into a wobble. Leaning against the wall, she gave her soon-to-be coworkers a somewhat strained smile as she squinted through the morning light at them.

"Hey! I know I'm late, but it's all part of my training - according to the movies, it's the job of every decent hunter of the supernatural to make their dramatic entrance at the last minute," she joked. In her current and rather obvious condition, it was the only way she could hope to save face. "My name's Kenzie. Good to meet everyone!"

[Assistant]
Sierra took another scan over the group. They were all quite the character it seems. Sierra flashed them all another bright smile. While she was processing the different appearances and names, the first woman who had noticeably given her the cold shoulder spoke.

"Excuse me, my name is Catori Ricci, I was instructed to appear here today for in-processing? Oh, I'm sorry, it's nice to meet you as well, I'm not incredibly awake right now. Would you mind letting me inside, please?" The blonde cocked a brow, turning to the gate.

"Is it not open or something? Yeesh, you'd figure they'd at least unlock it if they were expecting us. Err, I'm only an Iron level, so I don't have any special key card or anything, but lemme try this! It's worked on every other gate or door before!"

Suddenly, a determination crossed over the hazel eyes, she staring down the gate as if it were here arch nemesis. Sierra got low, into a sort of fighting stance, drawing one right leg behind her. In a flash and with a smirk on her face, her leg shot up and kicked the gate door with such power it shook loudly, as if a bomb had gone off underneath it.

Still, no dice.

Sierra pouted childishly, raising her knee to her chest to rub her foot. "Owww. What the heck is wrong with that? It's not made of brick!" She whimpered, placing her throbbing foot back onto the ground and glaring at the gate. "... There's no way I'm waiting. This is taking way too long!" And just like that, the hyperactive girl was off again, now attempting to scale the brick wall and go over onto the other side. At least she was resolute, it seemed nothing daunted her. Of course, that will only get her into more trouble in the long run...


[System]
Call sign: 'Judge'
Age: 46
Appearance:

Gear:

Abraham wears stolen Illumination soldier body armor under a dark trench coat. The armor is riddled with bullet holes but is still effective, the armor color is faded black, Kevlar weave being visible along certain parts of the armor. He wears gray camo trousers with tactical pouches on either leg. He also wears black combat boots.

-He wields two modified pistols that have varying ranges and fire rates, from close to long range and single to automatic fire. The pistols themselves are completely black, save for a silver gavel engraved on the hilt of each. He calls the left one 'Jury' and the right one 'Executioner'.

-Besides his pistols, he has an extremely large Bowie knife strapped to his right thigh. It's slightly curved with a black leather wrapped hilt. Burned along the blade is the name 'Jericho'.

Abilities: Exposed to a radioactive deposit when he was young, Abraham as the ability to go into a state he calls "Cross-Examination". With this ability, Abraham's reflexes are enhanced so much that everything seems slow to him. While no scientist, Abraham believes the radioactive deposit he was accidentally exposed to as an infant enhanced his brain power, allowing him to use his ability for short periods of time.

Personality: Abraham is quiet, reserved, and thoughtful. He can be irritable and grumpy at times, especially when talking to someone he doesn't know particularly well. He has his own sense of Justice, what crimes deserve death or simply a beating. He encourages his comrades to fight their hardest and often helps them in their trouble areas. Being one of the more senior members, people often look to him for advice. And while he occasionally indulges them, he often leaves them to their own devices, believing the best advice anyone can get is experience.

He feels the need to fight the Illumination to find his family, but also right the wrongs he did in his past and pay for his cruel and brutal nature.

Backstory: Abraham was born in the high class society of the elite, loyalists to the Illumination. His parents were both Doctors who specialized in medical research for the Illumination. Abraham was raised being brainwashed into believing that the Illumination was the savior of the world, as well as his sister, Roxanne, who was two years younger than him. Abraham was talented in everything he did and throughout much of school he was on the popular kids. He was cruel though, uncaring, targeting weaker students to satisfy his own power urges. This was not a trend who would grow out of until much, much later.

He graduated High School at 18 and joined the Illumination Military Academy to become an Army Officer. There he met his wife, Angela. Much like high school, Abraham dominated the environment. Top of his class, known for his strict and effective reputation. He was officially commissioned as an officer at 22 years old. While serving for the next 10 years, he would earn a reputation like he did in the academy. Brilliant, strict, and effective. The men who came under his command would be in many dangerous positions, but they would be the best. His daughter was born when he 27, he and Angela named her Rosanne. He still maintained a decent relationship with his family, all serving the Illumination in some way or another.

It wasn't until Abraham was 32, that his life would take a turn for the worse. His parents were suspected of leaking information to insurgent and rebel cells. They were found guilty. A death squad was sent to their house and gunned them down. Abraham was visiting that day. An hour later, he found his parents dead and heard a rumor about an Internal investigation that resulted in a death squad being deployed. He put two and two together. He then received a call that his sister had detained his wife and child and that Angela was on trial. Enraged by his sister's betrayal, he grabbed a weapon and stormed the court building they were in. He didn't make it far. He took 3 bullets to his Illumination armor and he retreated, being hunted by multiple death squads. He disappeared into the city. Three days later, his wife was executed. He heard rumors that his sister had taken custody of his daughter. And he would do anything to get her.

For the next 5 years, Abraham worked alone. He attacked the Illumination left and right with various different rebel groups. But he never got close to his family. When he was 37, he was contacted by the Huntsman clan and was offered membership. He accepted.

Notes: Loves Pre-War Music, is a skilled guitar player.

[User]
Merrick lit a cigarette as the members of the group filtered in. Quite a few were out on other missions, or on leave. He took a drag before puffing smoke from his nose. "Well, the Underground has given us an assignment," he said. He swiped his tablet, sending the picture of their target onto the flatscreen. "Oban Chou, head of the Chou Mob. They've got their fingers in every variety of criminal activity you can think of. In addition to this, Chou has quite a few high-ranking members of Illumination in his pocket."

Hunter examined the image. He could often get a good impression of someone just by looking at them. The young man had a knack for reading people quickly, something that had kept him alive for as long as he had. "I take it this won't be easy, Boss?" he asked. Merrick nodded.

"You're looking at one of the richest people in the world, son," he said. "He can afford whatever he wants-- guns, soldiers, vehicles. Again, it's nice to have friends in high places." Merrick took another drag. "Anyways, we also have orders to eliminate members of his inner circle if the opportunity presents itself. You have permission to kill anyone who gets in your way, but Chou is our main priority. Finish them quickly, and take the bastard out."

[Assistant] Abraham leaned against the back wall, listening intently, his black locks hanging over the left side of his face. He fingered executioner under his coat as he listened. "What's the layout of the facility?" he asked in a low but soft voice. Abraham was already formulating an idea in his mind, involving vents. If the facility was well ventilated, it could prove as an access point for one of the smaller members. While Abraham himself wouldn't be able to fit, a small member could sneak in and open a larger access point and allow the rest of the team to infiltrate.

[User]
Faye and Amaya

---

---

From the dark corner of the room, Amaya would silently listen in on the vital information provided, nodding her head a few times. It seemed like a simple job at first; rich man probably doing some corrupt things, corrupt things having to be solved through some major ass kicking, and get rid of said rich man before he begins to do any more corrupt things. The fact that he could have an entire army backing him up would prove a bit difficult, though.

"Ah, sorry about that!" a high pitched voice sounded, bouncing against the room corners. The frail looking Faye skipped inside, waving her hand in apology.

"That job took a bit longer than I'd expected, Boss. Drats, I didn't interrupt anything important, did I? Or has the meeting just started? Oh, there you are Amaya! Sorry, I didn't mean to be gone for so long…"

As she hopped towards her giant of a friend, Faye flicked the remaining drops of blood from her fan. Boy did things move a bit too quickly when this woman was present.

"So, anything I've missed so far?" she whispered to Amaya. The girl stooped down a little, and Faye was asked to repeat it again before replying.

"A man named Oban Chou or something. Apparently he has a lot of strong people guarding him, so we'll need to be careful."

"Ah…" Faye responded, her voice drifting off. "Oban Chou… Chou Oban… A rich bastard at heart, most definitely."

"Anyways, we also have orders to eliminate members of his inner circle if the opportunity presents itself. You have permission to kill anyone who gets in your way, but Chou is our main priority. Finish them quickly, and take the bastard out."

With a child like smile full of sunshine and rainbows, Faye said, "Well, if you're looking to finish off a bunch of decent fighters, then I'm sure we'll get the job done in a flash. Right, Amaya?"

The redhead simply nodded.

Similarly to the man a few metres away, Faye questioned Merrick's plans. Raising a hand, the woman called out.

"So… any sorta plan? Or are we just gonna go tear some random heads off? Not that I mind doing either, but… yeah, maybe knowing a bit more about how not to get killed by his men would be very useful."

[Assistant]
Survivor@Jay Kalton

Merrick swiped a set of blueprints onto the screen. "The Chou Mob's HQ is in the old armory, on the East end of town," he said. The old armory was a remnant from the War, and had been refurbished by the Mob over a decade ago. It was two stories, with another three subbasements. On public record, at least. "As always, this may not be up to date. Since this blueprint was made the Chou's may have made changes. But we do know something." He nodded to Hunter.

"Chou's having a birthday party for his daughters," he said, standing up. The young man tapped away on his Tac-Pad, and a picture of Chou and his daughters came on-screen. "Five years apart, but their birthdays are on the same day. Kids'll be at the mansion with their friends. Chou will stay there, and then go to the HQ for a dinner with his inner circle. Booze, drugs, hookers, that kinda stuff."

He bit his lip. This would be a more difficult mission. Despite being a criminal, Chou was a family man who would do anything and everything for his wife and daughters. Just another reminder that their line of work wasn't so black and white. Hunter cleared his throat. "We'll strike when they're drunk off their asses. Not the most noble approach, but I'd prefer the odds being tipped in our favor."

The images cleared from the screen, and Merrick stood again. "Now I know that this man has a family. Many of you have lost family yourselves. If someone doesn't wish to do this, I will not think less of you, and there will be no ramifications. However, you will be required to participate in the next mission, no matter what it entails."


[System]
Keyblade powers:
Light sworn: Slamming his two keyblades together Arthal can float in the air and this boost allows him flight as well meaning he take to the skies, however doing this gives him only one keyblade. His attacks are weakened but his defense is unchanged.

Masters Enlightenment: Being a Keyblade master Arthal can use this ability to predict other's moves and sense attacks before they happen. Of course this ability is very taxing and drains his health, stamina, and magic at different rates.

Heart type: Heart of the Valorous

Spells:
Holy
Magnet
Stop

Bio: Train under the Keyblade master, Thon Sho, Arthal has spent eighty years honing his skill under him. Thon himself spent fifteen years fighting in the keyblade was and abandoned it to return home the day the X-blade shattered. He began training an apprentice, he felt that when the war came to an end the survivors should be able to deal with the heartless and protect the worlds from each other.

Yet things changed, three dark Keyblade wielders arrived in Elf Burrow slaughtering villages. Thon began to organize a massive defensive of the capital, with those they killed turning into heartless they used this army to attack the capital. They did not expect to find two Keyblade wielding Elves heading the army. The battle raged for hours in the end Light conquer all, Elf burrow was saved and the World tree that granted Elves immortality protected.

Yet things were not well, Thon had been wounded fatally. His apprentice held his hand as the man died, explaining what he had done. He had abandoned his friends, when he saw a portal to another world he jumped through it then sealed it behind him. It had been the only escape from the world which housed the X-Blade now only known as the Keyblade Graveyard. The Keyblades there were not in fact left by those that had struggled for the weapon but those trapped in isolated piece land. Most of the graveyard was full of those that had simply fallen on their blades rather than waiting to die.

Thon sealed his heart within Arthal, which is how Arthal came to wield Redemption. As Thon believed Arthal would redeem his actions. Arthal having been named a Keyblade Master before Thon passed prepared himself. He would go and find others then end the war, so that no other world would ever suffer the kind of pain he had. He took the robes of one of the Dark Keyblade wielders and put them on, they would allow him to travel between worlds.

The last thing he did was approach the girl who had saved his life. Bellasiel had formerly been a priestess of the world tree, yet now she carried a Keyblade. He offered her a place at his side, he would train her and take her to new worlds with him. She accepted the two set off, Arthal leading her through the portal his robes could open and into a new world.

Theme: Louder than words.

Custom world sheet:
Description of the world: A a lush world with few cities and lots of spread out villages. Very centered on being one with nature and maintaining the natural order. Deeply rooted in magic and belief in gods that will protect them and help them in times of need.

Where you fit into the world: Formerly a Knight of the World Tree. Arthal was apprenticed to his worlds Keyblade wielder who had fled the war.

Recent history: In the past year an invasion by keyblade wielders of darkness leading heartless minions into Elf Burrow assaulted villages driving them back into their capital, Thoren. They prepare their defense and when it came time they fought to defend their city. Many lives were lost but the the Elves emerged victorious however Arthal's master had been defeated. In his final breaths he bestowed the title of Keyblade master on to his pupil and place his heart within Arthal's. Arthal left his people, seeking the source of the destruction and death to prevent this from happening again. Arthal also has an apprentice, Bellasiel.

[User]
Seth nodded and waited for her to take the orb. He watched her wrap the orb before picking it up. He didn't understand why she picked it up wrapped in cloth so he asked, "Why wrap it up? I highly doubt it would hurt you. If anything it would probably rid you of whatever little darkness you have."

"In fact, I highly doubt anything in this hallway would hurt you or the other warriors. Hell, anything in this temple shouldn't hurt since we can't use our Keyblades," Seth said before he sighed and mumbled, "Still lets the voices in though." Oh please, you know you'd be lost without me the voice chuckled. Seth rolled his eyes at the comment.

"I think Arthal wanted us to get this fragment and bring it to him. Better you give it to him than me. You're his apprentice right? You know more about him then I do," Seth said before he laughed, "Guy reminds me of one of the trainers back home. Couldn't talk to her cause she seemed like the type to lash out at you for asking a question."

[Assistant]
"I am not worried about it hurting me. I am worried about hurting it. I don't know how it would get rid of darkness and if it absorbs it than that could be a bad thing. Also, I don't want my darkness to be taken from me because it is a part of me. Only I can find balance in myself and make the right choices. Seth, don't believe the voices....you are stronger than you believe and I know that you will overcome anything once you truly set your mind to it." Bellasiel replied before continuing, "You are right that we should get this artifact to Arthal, I believe he will know best what to do with it."
Bellasiel laughed along with Seth and she shook her head lightly,I can see how he could come off that way but it is only because of his pain and his past. He is actually very kind and warm though he doesn't always seem to know how to show it. I think he wants to believe in people but doesn't completely trust them till later. I have to believe and trust in people or else my Keyblade's ability wouldn't work. It helps me fight and helps me understand others."

[User]
"I highly doubt you're darkness will harm it, with wat little darkness you have," Seth said. When she mentioned the voices Seth added, "The voice isn't some supernatural being. It's more my sanity breaking. This voice told me something that, I'm not sure I can argue with." Seth sighed. He didn't know if telling anyone what the voice said was right, but if it might help. Then maybe it was for the best.

"The voice, my sanity or insanity told me I need it to get revenge on the person who sent the man that burned down the orphanage with my friends inside. Honestly, I'm not sure if what it's saying is a lie. My Keyblade is a representation of my heart. So how can it lie?" Seth explained before he added, "To be honest, I think the only reason why I didn't pick up the artifact was the same reason you wrapped in in cloth. The voice yelled the light burned, but honestly I think it was putting on an act because it knew I might corrupt it." You give me way too much credit the voice protested.

"So if you don't believe in people then you're keyblades power dwindles," Seth said before he added, "So let me ask you something: if you trust that there is light in someone then how would you fight that person if they were corrupted by darkness?"

[Assistant]
Arthal looked at the orb Cyrus held walking over slowly, he tried to touch it. When he did it stopped whispering just became docile. "It's a tracking device for shard of darkness, it will collect them as well, since touching one directly can kill you, among other things." He decided to start explaining what he had found offering the orb back to Cyrus. "It's safe to touch, fragile as well. Drop it and it's powers would scatter across the world, the secret to making them are all but lost." He finished pointing down the middle hall.

"If you head down that hall and then descend the stair case you will find quarters. A dojo, training room, kitchen, recreational room, prayer hall, and bedroom with attached bathing chambers. The building seems to shift the number of bedrooms to how many people live within in it. Food seems to just appear in the dining hall, the most important thing a chamber that allows us to warp to parts of the world from here, instantly. It's old use was to allow communication across all worlds, this the hub of them all." He sighed sadly putting a hand on the wall.

"If this place could talk it would teach us thing's about our power's even our greatest masters do not know. We are but children compared to what the this place was like at it's height. A place of learning, understanding, and protection, in the name of balance and order. I want us to be like that, to maintain order. Never to act as if we could cleanse the worlds of heartless, we must simple watch over all the worlds. A order of peace keepers and teachers, that what will shall become in order to safeguard the future." He nodded looking back at Cyrus and Azazel. "Take the orb down and make yourselves at home. We will discuss where we should next together once we reconvene." Arthal said nodding to the both of them. "And good work, both of you."

[User] "I see...hmmm that is interesting." Bellasiel said softly after he spoke of the voice in his head. She wished she could help him more but it was hard to fix something like that. He deep down in his heart (even only a bit)believed darkness was the only way for his revenge but then again those two seemed to go hand and hand most of the time. "Hmmm it doesn't dwindle its power completely. It just won't work without help from another I don't believe and can't put my trust in. My Keyblade uses magic just fine no matter what since it is a matter of believing in myself but its actual power won't work without my trust in another and in a way, their trust in me. How do I explain it...let's say I use my Keyblade on you. Your weakness would be my weakness. My weakness would be your weakness. Your strength would be my strength. My strength is your strength. My Keyblade sync's hearts with the one I choose. If I used it on you, your sanity would probably last longer and push away your insanity further from control. Eventually though, it would effect us both if I held on too long and we would both be out of it, insanity grasping us. You would be able to do things with ease that I can do and visa versa. All and all, it would be like having a shared mind, being able to move in sync and perfect planning. Two is better than one kind of deal. It is strange to know things and then suddenly not once my Keyblade stops." Bellasiel tried to explain, seeming to find a bit of difficulty.

[Assistant] Azazel nodded and glanced suspiciously at the orb. It may be safe to touch, but he still didn't trust it. "We should make a bag for it. That way we never drop it." He listened to Arthal intently and a small smile crossed his face. It was nice to have a home again, even if it might not be for very long. Azazel decided to go look around the place himself, starting with the kitchen. Cooking was one of his pastimes back on Eden. He walked through the hallway, admiring the simplicity in its design and feeling the innate magical power flowing though the air. Give him a few dozen years and he might be able to understand the magic behind the rooms.

[User]
Seth listened to her explanation and even though it seemed complicated, he somewhat understood it. However the thought of his insanity infecting someone else worried him, but he knew how to stop it. "Your Keyblades power is, unique and can come in handy in tight situation. However, don't use that power on me. Ever!" Oh come on, the more the merrier the voice laughed.

"You don't need my insanity or the affects it comes with," Seth said before he added, "between the voice and the nightmares I get while in the state of insanity. I'm surprised I haven't gone complete psychopath, but when I think about why I'm fighting the darkness. I think it keeps me from becoming that." Seth watched as Arthal talked with the other Keyblade warriors and turned to Bellasiel.

"Alright, I think once you give him that. We should be all good to go," Seth said before he asked, "If you could, don't tell Arthal about what I told you about the voice. I highly doubt he needs another thing to worry about."

[Assistant]
Cyrus grasped the orb in his bare hand, trusting Arthal and only realizing that fact a moment later. He listened to the elf speak of the temple in its heyday. Cyrus had heard a few myths and stories from second hand sources, and that was as far as his knowledge of the temple went. He spoke of fighting for the sake of balance and order. Not necessarily in the name of the Light. And that, Cyrus could agree with. Too many Keyblade Warriors pledged their blade for one side of the proverbial coin and that, as logic would dictate, served only to perpetuate the war and conflict between the two sides.

But Arthal's desire for them all to become peace-keepers and teachers to the future he seemed to envision... Cyrus stayed silent. Fighting and killing... These things had been his only skills for the last fourteen years of his life. At this point it was all Cyrus really knew, and he suspected they would have to use those skills in order to create Arthal's envisioned future. He was willing to fight to build that future, but could he ever have a place in it? It wasn't a question Cyrus could answer, at least not right now. Perhaps it would come to him as they progressed with their mission, but for now he would just fight. Cyrus also had another suspicion, they would almost certainly have enemies on all sides, and the notion of eliminating them as threats seemed inevitable. What, Cyrus wondered, would Arthal do if faced with the choice of killing an enemy or allowing them to become a threat? Cyrus wondered this with eyes closed in thought.


[System]
Gender: M

Age: 26

Career/Class:Soldier / Ex-Soldier

Weapons:
* Basket Hilted Broadsword
* Imperial Dagger
* Norscan round Shield (Took from his first felled enemy)
* Aged Pistol

Physical Description Cyrdic is tall and lean, but solidly built, standing an inch over 6 feet in height. His eyes are reminiscent of shaped wrought iron. His face is ruddy and echoes a youthful appearance, though battles and training had roughed him into the look of a mature soldier. He has quite the rugged quality about him. Two scars mar his face. One parallel to the bottom of his left eye, and another scraping across his right jawline. His legs are long and his his facial hair is only a coarse, 5'oclock shadow thanks to his knife. He's clad in fine and tough leather over a chainmail hauberk, with sturdy traveling shoes and a worn belt.

Mental Description/Personality: Cyrdic isn't a fool. He spent a year apprenticed to a Quartermaster (as punishment for recklessness) and learned how to read and write (to a degree). The best way to describe him would be a hardened, rough soldier at the brink of his youth. He'll use what he can in his disposal to win, though half the time it turns out he'll need to fuck someone up anyway. His fierce independence and rough nature can only be matched by his determination to survive. He's not tactically intelligent, but he has a sense of how battlefields shift and can command smaller troops with his powerful voice. He tends to have a take-no-shit (unless it's from a superior officer) lookout on life. He's amiable to certain people however, and will have a dry wit around those he enjoys (or to people he wishes he could be more honest with). While fighting and killing and marching has been his entire life, he's not particularly fond of being thrust into impossible situations and doesn't lack a healthy sense of self preservation. He's gotten quite tired of working for corrupt officers. He's a devout Sigmarite thanks to his upbringing, and has a hammer chained necklace upon his breast to signify this.

[User]
Emmaline let out a squeak of panic as the bolt of concentrated dark magic flew at Amal. She didn't even have a moment to call a warning before it struck the thief. To her shock and delight the bolt seemed to fly wide somehow, desiccating a patch of rushes rather than sucking the life from the thief as it ought to have done. She didn't understand the shouted exchange between the creature and Amal and she crouched down behind the dyke racking her brain for something to do. The only method of escape she could see was the carpet, but the thing had been too sluggish to give her much hope it could carry them any distance.

Magic seemed the only answer, but she didn't know any spell that might turn the tables. Grimly she resolved to try anyway, casing aside her staff and squatting down on the moist earth to gather her energy. To her surprise the staff shimmered into the form of the cobra that had bitten the bandit back in the cave after the caravan attack. It raised its head slightly and hissed worriedly before ducking back down out of sight. It glanced left and right and then struck at a patch of earth perhaps five feet from Emmaline. It looked at her critically and then struck again, batting it wedge shaped head against the dirt. Emmaline arched an eyebrow, risking a quick glance over the dyke to see Amal racing full tilt around the edge of the oasis pursued by the chariot rider and his skeletal horsemen. She looked back at the snake that was worrying the dirt with its face.

"You want me to dig?" she asked in Reikspiel. The snake nodded emphatically, bobbing its hooded head up and down. Emmaline sunk her fingers into the dirt, scooping up a handful of the mud. To her surprise there was something solid in it. Quickly she scraped away the muck to reveal a rusted piece of iron, perhaps a wheelwrights nail the top of which still glimmered with gilding.

"How is this supposed…" Emmaline began but even as she did so she understood. Amal was shouting obscenities at his pursuers as he fled around the wadi. On a straight course the skeletal horseman would have caught him in moments, but the curve and the boggy soil kept him ahead of his pursuers for a few more moments. Emmaline sketched an arcane design into the soil with a muddy fingertip and set the nail in the center of it before beginning to incant.

Amal's lungs burned as he raced, pondering his chances of leaping into the oasis to escape his pursuers. The thunder of skeletal hooves reverberated off the half ruined walls turning the dozen or so pursuers into a brigade about to ride him into the dirt. He risked a glance over his shoulder to see the chariot only twenty paces behind him. It would have been an easy spear cast for the rider, but the mummified creature clearly intended to finish the business in a more personal fashion. Suddenly, the chariot itself was limbed in golden light and it seemed to fall away behind Amal. He watched in amazement as it flew backwards along its path, dragging the skeletal horses attached to it like boat anchors, its wheels a foot above the ground. The remaining horsemen flowed around it like a tide, intent on ending the impudent thief. Amal drew in a shuddering breath and ran onwards. To his utter amazement the chariot continued to fly backward around the oval of the oasis, though by now it had turned broadside due to the steeds continued attempts to paw for purchase on the ground. It rocketed around the shore in opposition to he racing riders pursing Amal. He heard Emmaline yell something as the chariot raced towards him but Amal's reflexes were already throwing him to the ground. The chariot flew over him, missing him by mere inches, the windrush obscuring the ancient obscenities being shouted by the mummy thing.

The noise was tremendous.

The metal body of the carriage and horses smashed into the onrushing cavalry, none of whom had been able to maneuver to avoid it. The sound of splintering bone was deafening as the chariot scythed the horseman down like new mown hay before a scythe blade. Pieces of ossuary rained down into the oasis with a pattering splash before, with a final violent convulsions, the chariot itself seemed to pitch into the center of the pool raising a vast geyser as the chariot, its horses shattered and gone but its rider still pinned in the mangled metal framework plunged beneath the water. The was silence broken only by the ripples washing ashore like waves. Behind him Amal could see a ruin of shattered jagged bone. Here and there a skeleton was trying to drag itself forward but for the most part the ruin was too complete to be believed.

Emmaline stood up from behind the dyke where she had been concealed, her hands muddy and with blood running from her right nostril. She leaned heavily on her staff, her golden eyes clearing to their usual blue.

"Tada…" she breathed and then her knees buckled and she sank to the ground.

[Assistant]
Amal nearly fell over himself. He was as tired as he could be, his heart still racing. But he felt like keeling over with surprise more than his fading fatigue. The Arabyan man couldn't understand how she had done it, but the guardians were no more, save for a few crawling, disembodied arms. He recalled the times in his life when he had gotten out of the most insane situations. On when he had caused the most trouble. This woman had surpassed him in those endeavors in the matter of barely two weeks.

"This is the woman I will marry," He realized, whispering to himself.

Reality came rushing back when he saw her collapse, and he moved quickly, leaping and sliding across the grass to catch her before she planted face first into the ground. The Cobra Staff clanged hollow against the dirt next to them, and to his relief it did not transform into the serpent. Gently, he pulled her back up and set the back of her head to rest on his lap, ripping off a bit of his vest and wiping the blood from her nose.

"Now, I've saved your life..." He looked up at the sky as he began to calculate. He remembered their meeting, the slavers, and a few other instances. He smiled and looked back down at her. "Let us say five times. You are catching up though. Not one to be outdone, yes?" There was a 'pop' as he opened his water jug, and she looked conscious enough to drink. He pressed it to her lips and she sipped gingerly, taking it away after a few moment. "At this rate I'm going to start owing you, and you don't look like one who I'd be comfortable with being in debt to."

He saw her stirring, and he finally decided to see if her head had stopped spinning. "Come on." He breathed, helping her sit up, albeit very slowly. "We cannot-"

His words died in his throat when he looked around and realized they were no longer in an oasis. He felt the weight of his rump and feet slowly sinking into sand that was one fertile ground, and even the buildings and guardians had fled. All save the skull of the Patriarch that had chased them. It sat not two meters away, gazing at them with blue witchlight eyes, it's elaborate headdress still atop the skull.

Amal gazed at the skull, raising an eyebrow, annoyed at the turn of events and scenery. Even with him being glad he saw the Carpet sway into view as it lazily flew over from a far sand dune, Amal still didn't feel comfortable finding himself in the middle of nowhere again. As their gazes met, and Amal could tell there was the same intelligence there as earlier, the thief finally spoke up, raising a fist threateningly.

"If you do not tell me what it is you want, I will dig until my fingers are but bone and bury you in the sand to be lost to time, you worthless skull." He warned.

HEED MY WORDS. The skull said, his voice echoing in both of their minds. The Skull's mouth opened as it mentally spoke. FIVE THOUSAND YEARS HAVE PASSED SINCE SETTRA THE IMPERISHABLE HAS PLACED ME HERE TO GUARD THE ENTRANCE TO BEL-ALIAD. MY TIME IS DONE, AS IT WAS FORETOLD BY ASAPH HERSELF. YOU MAY ENTER, BUT WARE THE DANGERS WITHIN. THE MAGICS BOTH WONDERFUL AND TERRIBLE WILL BE GUARDED BY MORE TERRIBLE FOES THAN I.

As the thing spoke, Amal noticed something. He shifted his vision, looking past the skull to what he had first believed were distant dunes and mountain peaks. Swiftly, he began to understand that over the next dune, what lay before them were the ruins of a city more huge and terrible than any he had ever delved into before.

[User]
Emmaline sat up, her head buzzing. Tiny flecks of gold drifted across her eyes for a moment as the disembodied voice of the skull echoed in her head. The spell she had just performed had taken nearly everything out of her, it had only been possible at all because she found the small bronze pin which had once been a part of the skeletal leaders chariot and thus provided her with a link to him.

The skull finished its oration and then seemed to waver for a moment before vanishing. The chill night wind blew for a moment as Emmaline beheld the ancient city beyond, perplexed by the powerful enchantments that had hidden the city for thousands of year. Even as she watched the eastern sky began to grow lighter, heralding that dawn was not far off. Sluggishly Emmaline pulled herself to her feet, leaning against Amal as they half hobbled, half walked up over the dune.

By the time the receached the crest of the dune the sun had broken the horizon and they had to squint to see the city beyond. It was vast and spawling with dozens of large buildings which might have been palaces or temples. At the center stood massive pyramid of white stone, taller even than the colleges of magic in Altdorf. The morning sun blazed around it like a halo as they staggered down the far side of th dune and onto the ancient and dust choked streets. By mutual agreement they staggered into the nearest building, finding relief from the already sweltering sun in the white washed stone edifice.

[Assistant]
Already, the sun's rays pushed onto Amal's skin with a tingle of fire as he half hobbled/half carried Emmaline into the first building. It was a tall structure that looked like a foreground outpost to overlook both the city and the surrounding area in ages long past. He wasn't certain what to expect when they entered, but the shadows and the air that would remain cool were welcome to his senses. He might not fret from Arabian heat, but it wasn't good to begin a journey in, let's say.

Inside, the sand piled high along the walls like crashing waves, as if the very grains themselves wished to snake higher along the stonework. A simple skull of stone and brass allayed itself along the right wall, while the left wall held aloft a well formed staircase that spiraled upwards, hugging every wall as it climbed into the shadows above. Skeletons lay on the ground, some broken as if by massive blunt trauma and others simply collapsed, holding their ancient weapons in death.

"Well, we're in a tight spot, but we are in a very fortunate place, my friend." Amal told her as they stepped carefully over the bones and small bits of broken masonry. Carefully, he let her down onto the large stairs of the stairway, and then plopped down beside her heavily. "Have you ever heard of Bel-Aliad?" He asked her, producing an apple for her to eat. He slid it down his arm and caught it, before handing it to her waiting hands. She shook her head, happily (as could be) biting onto the fruit.

Amal leaned back on the upper stair behind him with both elbows, looking across the room. The place, no the city had an aura of dread, but he seemed in his element. It was that suicidal wanderlust and restlessness that she had come to learn about Amal. He spoke as if he was looking into a mirror of scrying. "Long ago, it was a city of ancient Nehekhara, said to house the most illustrious and amazing treasure in the southlands, if not the world. Of course...any who come here perish but-"

He gave her a wink. "That's what they say about every accursed, ancient city." He remarked, clearly having robbed such ruins as this before, on a smaller scale. "After we rest here, what do you say to a little plunder? Perhaps then our friend here is well rested." The carpet's brushy hand peeked out from under its rolled form. "And we may travel to wherever we wish." He did want to add, however. "There are likely dangers here. Talking skulls do not often lie, and he did mention that part..."