[System]
Appearance (Real Life):

Height: 5' 8"

Weight: 160 lb

Hair Color: Black

Eye Color: Brown
Age: 15

History: Hailing from a country town in America, Tim was a boy, and you know how they are. Playing games, showing off to girls, doing sports, etc. Tim grew up to be a fit young boy, and then grew up to be a fit young teenager, which is where he is today. Maybe the fitness thing came around because his parents were fitness nuts and insisted he learn martial arts. Not that he minded, though. Being able to kick ass was pretty good. In fact, Tim went the extra mile, learning Karate, Judo and Tae Kwon Do. The key word there is 'learned', however. He doesn't have that the cool belt colours yet, but he's getting there. Some might say that he's overworking himself to make his parents proud, but he was glad that they forced him into it, because of the dark time in his life during the transitional phase when he moved into the big city… Which I won't go into :P
At any rate, he turned 13, got Deep Ground and has been playing it for 2 years, balancing all his other commitments on top of it.

Personality: Tim goes through life cheerfully and confidently, always ready to show off. He's easy to get along with and is stupid enough to not take offense easily. Friends will find him handy in a pinch, unless it has to do with academics. He's somewhat average, and will probably need as much help as you do, but he's dependable enough any time else. He friendliness, however, is a mask for his dark past, one that he wouldn't like to confront. Nevertheless, his sense of justice and loyalty are quite strong and he supports all of his friends.

In deep ground, he acts as a kind of superhero, running around saving people, because he likes to do it. He's very similar to how he is in real life, but in game, he's stronger. He's liable to jump into fights in real life too, but in game, he's more reckless. His sense of justice is even stronger in Deep Ground because he has the strength to back it up.
Appearance (Avatar): I'll try to do this in one sentence. A silver statue of a naked, bald, 6 foot musclebound man with suspiciously absent sexual characteristics, strangely accented eyebrows and no eyes. He's super shiny. Damn, that was two sentences.

Avatar Class: Tank

Avatar Title: Silver Streaker

Avatar Level (Initial): 3

Avatar Guild: Solo player

Ability 1: Quicksilver brawler (passive)
The Silver Streaker's physique and physical makeup make for some unique properties.
* +20% movement speed per level
* +10% attack speed per level
* Armour can be equipped but aesthetics will not change
* Weapons can be equipped, but not wielded. The weapon is instead absorbed by the Silver Streaker's body and stat bonuses are instead applied to the Silver Streaker's fists. Normal weapon restrictions still apply (If ranged weapons are used, the Silver Streaker gets finger pistols).

Ability 2: Silver Dash (active)
With this ability, you find that the Silver Streaker is aptly named! The Silver Streaker performs 3 quick dashes in rapid succession, closing the distance fast or dodging hits.
* Can outrace bullets
* Relatively short range, about 15 meters per dash
* Can be ended early, shaving off a third of the cooldown for each dash
* The Silver Streaker can attack while dashing, but good luck hitting anything
* If done correctly, attacks can receive up 30% bonus damage (eg. Charging straight at their face and punching them)
* Cooldown is 30 seconds

Ability 3: Light Metal (passive)
The Silver Streaker's physical makeup has strong defensive properties and also increases the Silver Streaker's strength.
* +10% melee damage
* +20% bonus armour (as in, if he has 20 armour he'll get 4 more for 24 in total)

Level 3: Pain resistance
Level 4:
Level 5:
Level 6:
Level 7:
Level 8:
Level 9:
Other: Well, if you're still around, would you like to hear the legend of the Silver Streaker?
There's a popular story amongst the circles of weaker users. It is said that when people are in trouble, a silver light will appear on the horizon, speeding to bring speedy justice. ¬Indeed, the altruistic acts of the Silver Streaker have led to many legends, though some are more notorious than inspiring.

Most tales share the story of a naked silver man running in to help them in a fight, but this isn't always a good thing. It seems that there're an equal number of stories where the shining legend heroically saves the would-be victims, and ones where he comes just in time to die along with them. And also, seeing a huge naked man made out of silver speeding towards you in your time of need wouldn't exactly be welcoming to most people.

Some have reported switching their assault to him instead of the attackers because their attackers also did the same, only for the silver man to speed right back out into the distance. Some have even reported reporting him for sexual harassment after he saved their lives, but to the dismay of those people, the Silver Streaker has never been brought to justice.

Some speculate that he's not a player at all, but an NPC put in by the goodwill of a lone renegade developer to help others in life, hence being untouchable by the moderators. Others believe that he instead bribes them to overlook his antics, theorising that he is instead a skilled hacker who takes advantage of the system to show off his indecency. The real mods just laugh and sit back, content with the knowledge that they've already tried and are well aware that, unfortunately, neither they nor the player can do anything about his endemic indecent exposure.
Theme:

[User]
Unable to see what exactly was going on about her, the Midnight Soloist could only register in the back of her mind that something had been struck by her Land Demolisher whilst she was somersaulting, and that her ally, Rocket Lancer, had died. Her flight cut short by that impact, the strawberry blonde girl crashed into the ground as a dark miasma rose in the throne room of the Black King. It stung and burned, eating away at her HP as she rose up slowly, trying to figure out if she had hit her mark or not.

She hadn't.

That mage was still fine, chatting away with her King as if nothing had happened at all, while Moon Rider herself offered an invitation to the Ebony Strykers for all those within the room.

Yuuki grit her teeth, baring them as she disregarded the message sent to her. As a rogue flew past, sent by whomever, a Heavy Arms swung downwards and flattened the rogue, before grinding their pixelated body into dust as it transformed while the stealthy bastard's head was still in its grasp. Forming the remaining two Heavy Arms into Land Demolishers, she narrowed her eyes, brought her body down low, and smiled.

Her win condition still hasn't been met, and with her HP decaying at such a fast rate…well, this was going to be the final one then.

Two hammers drove themselves into her feet, a violent shock passing through her body as she launched herself forwards again, trails of black smoke clinging to her stubbornly. At this point, her HP was too low to realistically expect a victory if she gets so much as punched by the mage, but…that's what made it fun! Challenging! Entertaining! It was a proper deadline to have, turning Newt into lizard paste before she died!

Drawing back her real fist, Yuuki couldn't help but roar out dramatically as she swung for Newt's face.

Then, she froze in mid-air, pixels falling off her virtual flesh arm. It twitched sprodiacally as she stayed there, suspended, not moving as Yuuki wanted it to. But a moment later, red lights blared all about the Black King's Castle, before the killing blow was delivered in the form a warning.

There was a glitch in the system, and that error cost the Midnight Soloist her what could have been a victory. As the world darkened around her immobilized form, as her arbitrarily decided goal vanished along with it, that smile became a frown.
~
Yuuki opened her eyes, back to the wilted gardens and the cold grass. Autumn was cold, and, upon touching her face, she realized just how cold it was. Slowly, she brought her hands over her face and breathed in and out slowly. Her breath warmed her hands, and her hands warmed her face, before she could staple on a small smile once more.

The brunette stood up, patted herself off, and then realized that she needed to breathe again. And again and again and again, until she could properly calm herself down. It was frustrating, how short it had been. It was upsetting, how it had ended. But, in the end, there was nothing she could do about it. Just smile and carrying on.

"Come on," Yuuki said, looking outwards to the afternoon sky, "Smile."

That mage's name was Newt. She was part of the Ebony Strykers. The next time they met, Yuuki would have to make sure that she turned that Avatar into paste.

Actually, wait, why decide?

Her coin was brought out once more, and, with that same passive smile on, the plain-faced girl declared, "Hatred or forgiveness?"
~
Some time later, her cellphone rang, and, flicking it out of her pockets, Yuuki smiled at the time, spun her phone in her hands, and answered in a chirpy tone.

"Good afternoon, Erika~"

[Assistant]
Havoc stopped her advance on the crippled Dissolution as others approached, she prepared for them to attack but they seemed to hesitate by their fallen comrade, a moment later she found out why as they somehow merged together, their black mass flowing into one and a much bigger dissolution was formed, there was a moment of inaction as Havoc and the dissolution sized each other up and then the thing lept at her. Havoc's choice of action was taken from her as a fist slammed into her from behind.
"WHAT THE FRIIIIIIIIICK!"
The momentum from the punch threw her past the big dissolution and into a large group of smaller dissolutions, further worsening her situation shed left her sword behind when she'd made her daring aerial escape from the big dissolution. She hit the ground, rolled over once and ended up on her back. Her hp dropped a truly minuscule amount from the punch and her passive activated, doing probably the tiniest amount of damage ever recorded to every dissolution in the mob.
Havoc sighed, there wasnt much point getting up, without her sword she didn't stand a chance. Lying on her back staring at the sky Havoc didn't notice as the dissolution's movements lost their smooth flow and began the sharp jerks of a lagspike.
What did finally gain her attention was the MASSIVE message in big red bold writing that appeared in her face.

---

Attention! Attention! All Players will be forcefully logged out of Deep Ground Online due to internal errors and damages! Attention! Attention! All Players will be forcefully logged out immediately!

---

She opened her eyes and found herself back in her room, back to being Rebecca it seems. She sat up and looked about, the room was full of half packed bags and her things were strewn across the small floor area. She'd be moving into the dorms at the Academy tomorrow, it would be the first time she'd ever lived away from home. She sat for a while thinking about it. A while later, deciding that moping about wouldn't accomplish anything she rolled off her bed and continued her packing.


[System]
Species/Race: Chiss
Middle Name: Eva
Last Name: N/A (Chiss don't have "last" names the same way that humans and other races, do, they have "family" names, but their family names go FIRST, then their "core" (or middle) name, and then they have a "third" name which is commonly thought to be a last name by most other species, but it's...not really XD)
AKA: Thevalara, but she generally prefers to go by Theva. Don't call her Eva, ever. EVER.
Gender: Female
Date of Birth: 3,663 BBY (I think I've worked that out right, I admit I'm kinda terrible at tracking the dates haha)
Place of Birth: Copero City, Copero, Chiss Space
Age: 20 (equivalent of a human 22 year old, Chiss "grow up" faster than humans, but once they hit adulthood they slow down again XD)
Height: 5 feet 10 inches
Weight: (How rude!) but since you asked, about 167 Ibs
Home Planet: Copero by birth, but will always say it's Korriban
Current Residence: Talon-class Interceptor, named the "Ice Shard".
Hair Color/Style: Inky blue-back, about mid-back length (when left down), and usually pulled back into a single braid behind her head to keep it out of her face, though she does have a single unruly curl sticking out from behind her right ear that will not stay in her updo, no matter what she does.
Facial Hair: N/A
Eye Color: Pupil-less, deep red eyes which glow slightly, especially in low-light conditions.
Body Appearance:

A tall and rather imposing figure, especially for a woman, Theva is a solid wall of muscle from head-to-toe, more than capable of crushing bones with her bare hands should the fancy strike her, and she walks like she knows it. She has an arrogant sort of swagger to her steps, and often looks down her nose when talking to others, particularly those she considers to be "weaker" than her. Her skin is a striking, pale blue, though it can and will darken at times, depending upon the oxygen levels in the atmosphere of the planet she's on.
Vehicle/Starship: Chiss Talon Interceptor
Not dissimilar to the popular Empire Fury-class Interceptor in terms of its internal structure and functionality, however the Chiss Talon was built, obviously, in Chiss space, and features a much more unique outward-design, with a taller cockpit window and wings which can fold/unfold at a much more rapid rate, allowing for extremely quick speed changes and maneuverability.
Armor: Blue-grey and purple War-Hero Force Master Armour
Primary Weapon(s): Single-bladed Lightsaber, red blade, the Force (combines the two for maximum power and effectiveness)
Secondary Weapon(s): Wears a Shield Emitter on her left gauntlet, which can be used to extend a small personal shield over herself, Brute force with her bare hands, if necessary,
Allegiance: Sith Empire (formerly the Chiss Ascendancy)
Rank: Sith Juggernaut

Biography:

Theva was originally born far away from the troubles of the Jedi and the Sith, in one of the districts of Copero's main city, she was born to House Mitth (the same house that would later give rise to the likes of Grand Admiral Thrawn), and would have been well on track to take a seat within the other high-ranking Chiss of their House once she matured, had it not been for one, little problem. When Theva began to exhibit Force abilities at the age of 3, all prospects of her future with the Ascendancy were thrown to the wind. For, to the Chiss, Force sensitivity is not a blessing, but a bad omen.

For this reason, she had to go. Theva didn't understand why her parents couldn't even look at her anymore, only that they were sending her to somewhere called the Sith Empire, and that she was never again allowed to return to Chiss space. Why?
She was a demon.

Unlike many other Chiss sensitive children, her parents at the very least left her a ship, the very same one which she still flies today. It's the only thing she has left to remember her family by, and however much she may hate them for casting her out, she still feels some latent, familial loyalty to the people who brought her into this world.
Theva was escorted to Korriban, as was the agreement the where she was left at the Sith Academy to be trained as one of their fighters, for the Sith knew they may need them in the days to come. She had a hard time, at first, being an alien - and one so different-looking, at that - meant that many of the other human acolytes picked on her, or used her as target practise whilst honing their own power.

Theva quickly learned that friends are of no use to a Sith, and resolved that if they weren't going to like her, then they would fear her, and so would anyone else she came across. She trained long and hard, sometimes going without sleep in favour of sticking to her rigid schedule. She learned to fight, and she learned to kill others before they could kill her, first. Despite her species, Theva quickly made herself indisposable : fast, deadly, efficient, therefore it was no surprise that she was quickly apprenticed to a Sith Lord, and even sooner, flew through her would find her

She fought in many battles, though she was not present for the Sacking of Coruscant, she played a major role in other pivotal battles of the war, including the Alderaan Civil War and the tail-end of the Battle of Balmorra.

[User]
Theva did her best to keep the tension out of her shoulders as they crept back onto the upper levels. As they crossed onto the familiar strip of cafes and casinos, she caught a barely audible breath of relief from the man beside her, and allowed herself the very slightest of smiles too. They were still in hostile territory of course, but the fact that no-one had tried to shoot them yet as they ambled towards the taxi port meant that Thaerex's idea had at least worked.

Just as she was beginning to think he wasn't a lost cause, however, the fool went and suggested they go to Deucalon Spaceport, of all things!
The Chiss bristled, wheeling around to fix him with a glare.
"Deucalon?! Why would we go there, that's right in the middle of Republic territory, or are you blind?!" Theva paused, her expression changing from furious to something more thoughtful as she slowly began to put the pieces together.

She narrowed her eyes at Thaerex suspiciously, her saber arm twitching slightly as she suppressed the urge to just draw the weapon then and there. Not only would it give him a chance to perhaps explain himself, but she knew it would draw attention to the pair of them and likely end up with the Cartel breathing down their necks again.
"...Unless, you're one of them, hmm?" the Chiss raised an eyebrow at him, putting herself between him and the side-street they'd used to get to the taxi platform, he wouldn't be able to bolt down there without fighting her first. She hoped he wouldn't want to risk it. "I'm not going anywhere else with you until you explain yourself, Thaerex."

[Assistant]
Thaerex froze, he realized his mistake. The Empire's hangars were located in the Mezenti Spaceport. He had to think quickly. He could see the taxi speeder approaching the pad. He looked over his shoulder at Theva.

"You're right," he began. "It is in the heart of Republic territory. And it's the last place the Hutts will think to look for a pair of fugitive Sith."

"Fugitive Sith?" the taxi droid repeated, a note of alarm coloring its synthesized voice. It's photo-receptors flickered briefly. "This vehicle pad is temporarily closed. Please stay where you are, agents of the Hutt Security Force will be arriving shortly." The taxi speeder was already docked behind the droid.

"Blast it!" Thaerex cursed. He thrust out his hand, using the Force to launch the droid off the pad and over the speeder to fall to its destruction. Without wasting a second, he jumped into the speeder, disabled the auto pilot, and looked to Theva.

"The Hutts are on their way! Get in, unless you want to get caught!"

[User]
Theva studied him with narrowed eyes as he offered his explanation, which gradually widened the more Thaerex spoke. Frantically, the Chiss waved an arm, and when that didn't work, drew a finger across her throat in a desperate attempt to get him to shut his mouth before the droid-
"Shhh, shush, shut up, Thaerex!"

And, they were dead again. Her companion cursed, throwing the droid over the railing and commandeering the speeder before looking to her and imploring her to join him. Theva rolled her eyes as she leapt into the seat beside him. Not as if she had much of a choice in the matter, go with him to Republic territory or stay here to be shot at by the Hutts again.
"You…are an idiot!" she hissed, punching him angrily in the arm. "Now get us out of here before they arrest us, or worse."

[Assistant]
Thaerex ignored the punch in the arm and slammed the throttle forward. They were both thrown back against their seats as the taxi speeder went from full-stop to full-speed in seconds. At this speed it would take them only a couple of minutes to reach Deucalon. With any luck, the Security Force Agents would take a few minutes to reach the pad and realize what happened.

PEW, PEW, PEW! The sound of speeder-mounted blasters, and the bolts that followed, announced that would definitely NOT be the case.

Thaerex managed to evade the first volley of blaster bolts, but was struck by one from the second. The damage was cosmetic, but there was smoke streaming from the damaged panel.

"Blast!" he cursed again, then used the controls to send the speeder into a dive. Once he got them down into the constructed canyons below, hopefully he could lose their pursuers in the tight quarters.

[User]
For a brief moment, it appeared as though their luck would hold out and they had in fact, given the Hutt Security Force the slip. As was typical, however, this proved to not be the case, and they were soon being shot at again by pursuers.
"Today is NOT our day, is it!" Theva growled in agitation, risking a glance behind them over her shoulder as she attempted to count just how many speeders were following them.

The Chiss counted at least three before she was forced to duck down into the car to avoid the blaster bolt that skimmed over the top of her head. "If we die, I'm going to kill you!" she snarled at Thaerex, the irony of that promise entirely lost in the heat of the moment. "There's at least three, maybe more. We need to lose them, and fast!"

The speeder jerked violently as Thaerex tried, and failed, to avoid the second volley, causing both its occupants to curse in tandem.
"Now, would be nice, Thaerex!" Theva braced herself as Thaerex directed the speeder into a steep dive towards the infrastructure. "I like your thinking, they'd have to be either very brave, or very stupid, to follow us down here."

She just hoped this would work.

[Assistant]
His tactic appeared to work almost instantly. Not anticipating his maneuver, the pursuing speeders had to pull a series of corkscrews and wide loops to reorient themselves and follow him down into the shadows of the lower levels. This allowed Thaerex to put some distance between them and their pursuers.

Once they had almost reached the surface, he began to weave a path through the infrastructure, speeding through gaps between decaying industrial pylons, dodging past broken communication antennae, until he spotted what looked like an abandoned barracks directly ahead. The front doors looked like they had been blown off. They hadn't managed to lose the other speeders, but the barracks gave him an idea.

"On my mark, get ready to jump clear!" he yelled over the noise.

He guided the speeder down. They would only have a split-second once they cleared the doorway. He looked over his shoulder and spotted the three speeders that had managed to keep up with them. Steeling himself, he focused on the dark portal ahead, if he was off, even by just a few centimeters, he and Theva would be dead.


[System]
Nicknames: Joe-it-all
Joe is the son of the mechanic Arin Verona, working in Smith's rest, which allowed Joe to get to see a few NCs in his life while his father was working on them. He also picked up a bunch of scientific knowledge regarding engineering from him.
An old but still post-cataclysm computer was a gift for his 13th birthday; it only had a commandline interface, although it was possible for it to display and generate images. Especially the lack of a graphical user interface paved the way for Joe to learn much about computing with his remainder of a child's ability to learn complex systems quickly, given sufficient interest.
About two years ago the financial situation of the family got really bad, so Arin decided to sell Joe's computer. Unfortunatly without consulting him first. The very same day Joe noticed and snapped, punching his father in the head during the rage which lasted only a few seconds before he regained control. The force of the punch was great enough to break his hand and permanently damage his father's brain. As a result of the damage, Arin's long-term memory is unable to store new memories, although previous memories from before that day remain unaffected.Age: 26
Personality: Joe is usually the analytical type, using knowledge to his advantage. It is very hard to anger him, and if he is in a rage it only lasts for seconds, but during those seconds he is capable of anything, except staying calm and analytical.
height: 1.79m
normal weight, although closer to underwheight than to overwheight
pale as a vampireTactical preference/skills:Joe isn't really cut out for combat, mostly because his tendency to overanalize his situation lowers his reaction-time significantly; in some situations 2 seconds pass before he can react. As such he usually prefers to be in safe locations during a battle, being rather involved in communications, tactics or cyber-warfare(taking remote control of an enemy unit and the like). He is not a great tactitian despite his analytical nature though
Other things of note: NERD!!!
Code-Name: Swarm
Body-Plan: A general humanoid, although armored and handless. Where the hand would normally be is instead a currently unoccupied weapon or utility slot
Type/Quality: It acts as a ranged unit, taking out both grounded and airborn targets, preferably out of their range. Middling-low
* The 22 missile launcher have a reload time of 40 seconds and it takes about 4 seconds to fire an entire volley of missiles.
* To ease targeting and target-prioritizing, the head is equipped if a more powerful radar, which can manually be focussed in any direction to increase its range in that direction a bit.
* The Swarm is equipped with 2 guidance systems:

	+ A cruise missile controller for precise strikes with single missles
	+ An IR-laser to aim at whatever a volley of heat-seekers shall target. The laser itself has not enough power to do any damage on its own
General Description: The Swarm Is a heavier, hunchbacked unit with an extreme focus on long range combat and defensive armaments. It features numerous long-range high mobility missile launchers, and it would have a high-powered plasma cannon in the waist, but that mount is currently unoccupied.
As well, the Swarm has an interesting backpack design suited for aerodynamics and in-atmosphere flight speed, effectively meaning that while it's slow as mollasses on the ground, its actually sort of fast in the air.
However, if the backpack was hit by a heavier weapon, due to speedy and shoddy construction, it does have a chance to damage the rest of the unit. Thus, the pilot should always point towards the enemy.

[User]
Percy was wary of the rain - not specifically because of the the rain itself, or even how rare it was, but for the possibility it being acid rain. It'd really fuck with the NCs if that was the case. It could just be his paranoia, but he keeps it in mind nonetheless.. Especially since the fucker mentioned it. Even if it's not acid rain, he has to be act fast, be precise, and not. fuck. up.

He did his damnedest to make sure the train was safe, firing more burst-missiles at the Champ. Whatever was being broadcast on his comms, he just shut it off. He needs to focus.

His missiles didn't hit the Champ a majority of the time - partly because of his shaking and racing thoughts, but mostly because the fucker wouldn't just stay still.

As the Champ got ever-closer, he switched from missiles to his rifle so shrapnel didn't affect Jingo, the train, or himself. This mission isn't going bad if he can help it.

The pilot of the B.C. stopped her barage, meekly mumbled things over the comms as she dodged the last of Percy's missiles and began (fumblingly) dodging his rifle fire. It was seemingly a series of denials, and perhaps fear.

She stopped completely, giving Percy a few free shots at her NC before she snapped out of it and continued. The armored trains' plasma-based defenses charged for another barrage and did a relatively slow 90 degree turn, allowing all three of its' right turrets to fire at the assailant.

The B.C. dodged two of the shots, the third impacting. "F-f... Forget it! Forget it! This is going worse than planned! F... fuck you guys!" said a quivering young womans' voice.

"Fuck you too, good riddance!" Percy shot back. If he wasn't irritable, he might have noticed she sounded genuinely afraid and would have definitely laid off the insults.

"Eat shit!" she said futilely while gaining distance. She charged her thrusters to full power after a bit and left the combat zone.

...That was easy.

Percy grinned. He must've scared the pilot off, meaning nobody on either side died (that he knew of, at least). This mission is going smoothly.. Almost too smoothly. He chalks up the sudden unease to him just thinking too hard about this.

[Assistant]
Thankfully, the 'Escort Train' mission was more or less uneventful for the next few hours, as the trains' guards rotated, a fully company-owned NC duo replacing Jingo and Percy. Blur returned to base and dropped off the Mad-E, before doing the same with the Swarm a while later. The engineers were successful in prying open the emergency hatch, and Madison was instantly put into the medical ward for a complete physical exam and rest.

Blur, also, found that while picking up the Swarm, the unknown NC was nowhere to be found, and due to the Swarm's damaged sensors, Verona had no idea what happened to it either. It seems like he indeed was fine, and he somehow got his NC functioning just enough to sneak out while Verona wasn't looking.

As the team got settled back in, they were quickly debriefed, and dismissed. They also found an additional 15,000 in each of their accounts.

[User]
Eli might have screamed when she saw that the enemy NC was gone. It would have been bad enough wasting a potentially useful source of information, especially considering the enemy clearly knew about them, but now they had escaped. It was almost enough to make her forget why they'd come out in the first place. At the very least their main objective had been completed.

She spent the entire flight back to base in silence, a mixture of her displeasure with Joe, and the minuscule anxiety forming in the back of her mind. The Captain did not scare her, nobody scared her, but all signs pointed to trouble and Eli could not for the life of her figure out what she'd done wrong. The mission came first, Smith's Rest came first, that was the whole reason they were out there, surely the Captain understood. Surely.

During the debriefing, she dutifully gave her recollection when her turn came, and refrained from mentioning any personal decisions or minor altercations that occurred on the field. A small part of her was relieved, even thankful, that she had not been called out while everyone was present. A mercy she was not used to, since she'd always been taught that public humiliation was an effect form of discipline.

Eli waited until the others had filtered out, and it was merely the Captain and herself that remained within in the debriefing room. When the door shut, she snapped to attention and raised a salute to the Captain, face blank, though the scarf pulled up over half of it helped.

"You requested to speak with me, Captain," she said more than asked, likely an unnecessary reminder, but one that was issued all the same.

[Assistant]
After the debriefing, Joe ate his dinner ration for the day, the struggle had made him hungry. The hall he expected to be the canteen was almost empty at that hour, so he was done eating within 5 to 10 minutes, as nothing distracted him from eating.

Having nothing to do, he went to his room and browsed the shop, the technical issues he was having had been resolved in the meantime, so he looked through the weapons category.
He was looking for a backup weapon, in case he couldn't use his missiles due to either damage or too thick fog around the enemy. As this included him not planning to use it too often, he was looking for a cheap weapon. The cheapest listed weapon were missiles for a mere 8K ICC, but those weren't really an option, he already had sufficient missiles. The 2nd cheapest one was the VEKW-01.65 railgun for 12K ICC. It fulfilled all of his criteria for his backup weapon, and when you don't frequently use a weapon, its power consumption usually does not concern you, provided your system can store enough power for 1 shot.

Joe decided to ask an engineer whether or not Swarm's power generators and capacitors could field the railgun's requirements. The engineer he asked thought a bit, and then responded with an assuring 'yes', so Joe went back to the console and purchased it.
In the occasion, that damage dealt by the enemy prevented Joe from using his missiles, a mere NC-grade rifle likely didn't have enough 'umpf' to do much about the situation.


[System]
Character Info
Age - 27
Gender - Male
Place of Origin -
Type - Newtype

Mobile Weapon Profile

Suit Type -Transformable Mobile Suit/Mobile Armor
Suit Style - Federation
Combat Role - Skirmisher
Suit Armaments - Long Blade Rifle, 2x Beam Sabers, 2x Shield Boosters

-

Pilot Personality

Stalwart
If there were ever a single word that could aptly describe Leon's character, it would be stalwart. Steady and sure, Leon stands as impassive as a looming storm cloud, towering and lumbering over all those around him, being as constant and power-exuding without the need to mutter a few words. While capable of antics of frustration or irritation, Leon's true emotions never surface unless he's truly sincere about his resolve in committing to it. Like the rumblings of ominous thunder, Leon would often quell arguments by brief flares of rising temper to settle meaningless debates even within a his crew.

Bitter
Idealism is the bane of Leon's existence. He contempt for those that spew useless dreams that do little help anyone. A notion crafted from the meaningless deaths of his brother and father, Leon bares his fangs to those that seek to face the universe with no real plan. He tries to distance himself from the idealistic, hero types as those always lead to pain and suffering. To go out of his way to attack these types is not like him, but he is not friendly.

N/A
[color=#807B84][/color]
 | Physical Description
Leon is what you would call a midget; standing at only 5'3', Leon is below the average height for a male. Despite his height disadvantage, he weighs at a whooping 150 lbs; the weight mostly coming from the muscle obtained through vigorous workout, a notion obtained from his father that the body should always match the mind. In combat, he wears a suit bought help with the G force and comfort within space. It is insulated as well. Outside of combat, Leon keeps his attire simple with a black T-shirt, blue jeans, and hi-top red/black sneakers. Around his neck sits a wedding ring attached to a chain, a memento of his late mother.
Character Conceptualization
Leon is a mercenary trying to hide from the Federation, Zeon, and all those in-between. He was born and raised to pilot a mobile suit, his father Leon Barlow had always intended for him to join the Federation. His father knew his son was a Newtype and his plans were lofty. Unfortunately these plans would crash and burn as Leon lost both his father and brother during the War of 0088. Already skeptical, Leon became quite disillusioned with the Federation and Zeon, stealing his father's Gaplant before racing off into the stars. For years he made a name for himself as the mercenary known as Red Scream; Red being the color of his Gaplant, and the scream heard from his engine. Leon made it a rule to hide his face behind a mask. Now he seeks to hide from those that want him dead or jailed, his mind overlooking the true threat in the depths of space.
Mobile Weapon Description

Leon acquired his Gaplant by stealing it from the Federation after his father's funeral. A variation of the mass-produced Gaplant, the TR-5 is a customized variation to increase the speed of the mobile armor with shield boosters. The Gaplant comes with the standard issue beam sabers stored in the legs but, it also comes with a Long Sword Rifle; a weapon that forms the main cannon for the Mobile Armor and a sword/rifle for the Mobile Suit. This suit is mainly an offensive tool used by the Federation for high-precision strikes. |

[User]
---

Ezmy was relieved to have traded the crowd of whining rescues for the usual junkyard entourage of the Cathartes' crew. They weren't that much better, but she'd found a begrudging comfort in their company over the months, especially compared to the people they usually did business with. Watching Cornell guile respect out of Feds and Zeons made putting up with all the creeps and freaks on his payroll worth it. There'd be no escaping war—that the Cathartes existed at all was proof of that—but meeting its horrors with self-serving indifference was a pretty close second, in her opinion.

They came to what was left of the scrapheap. Ezmy hopped up onto a pile of flattened debris and watched as Disker went to work doing…Thinker things. To her it just seemed like he was obsessing over ash-marks and slag, but she'd come to understand that there was usually more going on behind those eyes than might appear.

"…Because whoever jumped our guests are certainly packing tech that shouldn't be in service right now."

Wow, or maybe not?

"You mean the pirates are using illegal weapons?" she asked dryly. "Killer detective work there, Disker."

Beside them, Marlowe dragged a Fed over to ask him some questions. She found herself scowling again, already—it never took long when Marlowe was nearby. The younger Voltus had an effect on her, like the effect a cheese grater might have on the side of someone's face. She could practically feel the headache coming on as soon as he opened his mouth. Sometimes he didn't even need to talk, just his presence was an irritant.

When the Fed shut up, Marlowe looked to the rest of them. Ezmy rolled her eyes.

"I don't get it," she said. "If we're worried about the pirates coming back, we should just suit up and get out there. The trash isn't gonna tell us anything that seeing them won't."

[Assistant]
---

"Normally, I'd say we don't have the numbers to play seek and destroy." Gaida smiled warmly as she put her hand on Ezmy's shoulder, "However... we aren't exactly lacking in people or suits."

Gaida understood the logistics of tracking down pirates when their orders were contrary to that, but the red-haired woman would remind that she signed up to protect this junk-rig of a ship. Nothing more and nothing less. She didn't have any skin in the game with the pirates, though she knew the shortstock beside her most certainly had a sort of axe to grind. She was certain she yearned for action rather than protecting the ship or scanning around junk fields hoping that something interesting happened for once.

She looked back toward Disker as she released her hand from the girl's shoulder.

"I can power up my suit and join your group. At least, as long as our defenses here are ample enough. If we end up not doing little Ezmy's plan."

[User]
---

Disker's inquiry was met with the standard fare he had become accustomed to from the Cathartes' pilots: Scaling from solo sincerity to ludicrous dismissal, with confident caution in between. At the extreme latter end of the scale was, of course, Ezmy but Disker already knew to expect that from her. He played along with her quip, smiling and nodding at her before breaking into a scowl. "Not illegal weapons, you muppet. I meant they're using old weapons. Think post-30 Bu- Mid 80s." A slip of the tongue, Disker had to bite his lip. The incident he was about to refer to was never made public knowledge but would definitely incense any Spacenoid that knew of that massacre. A legacy treasured only by the Titans in their suppression of dissidents.

As Disker suspected, their Federation guest confirmed that it was indeed an early Titan mobile suit that committed the assault. "Titan Marasai, huh?.." While this piece of information did answer his early question, a dozen more took its place. "I mean, I guess that shouldn't be a problem for our MS team if we went but we'd need the old man to sign off on it." Disker would state, acknowledging the pilots' proposal to sortie out for a hunt. He was confident their combined experience would make short work of any jag piloting a discontinued mass production unit. However, wherever there's cannon fodder, there's bound to be an opposing cannon aimed directly at you.

"My only concern is the fact that our future playdate might be packing more Titan relics, some of which we are not able to deal with. Not with our current firepower." The exotic arsenal designed by the mad geniuses of the purged Federation elite was deadly. Some were able to blast targets with beams beyond the horizon, some able to precisely dissect targets with wire-guided beams up close, and even some more nullified beam attacks altogether. Who knows what they were gonna encounter but Disker suspected it was coming for them soon.

[Assistant]
---

Ezmy's fists balled up on reflex the moment Gaida touched her, shuddering like the temperature had suddenly dipped into the negatives. She shot the woman a hard look, eyes flicking from her to her hand, as if, surely, it was just some tragic mistake that it had landed on her shoulder. But no, it wasn't, and Gaida went on to agree with her, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Ezmy might not have been a very socially-conscious person, but she knew when she was being patronized.

"…little Ezmy's plan."

Oh, she'd be paying for that one.

"Gee Gaida, thanks." She said through teeth grated in the closest approximation to a smile that Ezmy could muster. When the woman took her hand away, Ezmy brushed imaginary grime off of her shoulder. She wasn't done with her, but Disker's sharp interjection reminded her that there was, in fact, an actual conversation of import going on. Fine. There'd be plenty of time for getting even later.

"Okay, and?" she snipped back at Disker. "If the pirates come back, the options are run, or fight, and you're out of your mind if you think this hunk of junk is outrunning anything. Fuck's sake, you don't have to stall like this, you can just say you're scared. Not like anyone'd be surprised."

That was a bit of a low-blow. Ezmy didn't have much respect for Disker's…"cautious" piloting style, but that didn't mean he was useless; he was a coward, she thought, but even cowards could be good shots. Still, with how quiet the man usually was, it was worth snatching at the opportunity to get a rise out of him.

"The real question is whether or not we're gonna sit around scrapbooking until they get the jump on us."


[System]
UserName: Konan375
Age: 25

Mageblood type: Aqua

Favoured Magic Class: Hydromancy

Previous Magic training: None

Race: Naerse Human

Appearance: Leith was born with albinism, so his skin is about as white as it can get. His eyes are a very light blue, and he has no hair. There is a scar that runs horizontally across his right cheek to almost his ear. He stands at 6 feet tall and is very skinny. He usually wears dark green pants and a hooded cloak of the same colour. The cloak has a clasp on it, and it was given to him as a gift. There is a silver ring on his left index finger and he currently has a gauntlet fused to his right hand that goes up to his elbow. It is roughly five times the size of his left hand.

Short Bio: Leith did not have a nice childhood. the other children were afraid of him. They had heard stories of vampires and what they looked like, and in their minds, Leith was a vampire. He had learned quickly that fear could turn to violence, and had gone home with bruises, and one time, a black eye.

As he got older, the fear disappeared, and he made some friends. He discovered his ability to control water, and started to try and figure out what he could do with it.

When he was twenty, Leith Heard about Twilight College and decided to go there and get a better grasp on his hydromancy. He figured it wouldn't take that long. A few weeks at most.

He got there five years later.

After a few days of travelling, he encountered two men who immediately apprehended him and tried to kill him because they'd "be doing Eania a favour. The only good vampire is a dead one, right?"

Leith tried to explain that he wasn't a vampire, and that the men were making a mistake, but they wouldn't listen. The men took him into a small clearing off the road. He stumbled and fell into puddle of purple liquid, which disappeared almost as quickly as he landed in it. His head was buzzing when the men picked him up, tied him to a stake and one of the men went to set him on fire. In his panic, the buzzing increased, and Leith felt water nearby and pulled at it. He was splashed by something warm and lost consciousness.

He was found by a herbalist who was restocking his inventory. When Leith woke up, he felt like he needed to repay the old man, and decided to become his apprentice. The buzzing in his head didn't go away, and his hair started falling out days later.

Near the end of Leith's fourth year of being an apprentice, the old man got sick, and quickly died. After burying him, Leith stayed at the little hut in the forest that they lived for a few more weeks, and then started out for the Twilight College for a second time. Fortunately, the second time was uneventful, and he arrived the day they were accepting a bunch of new mages. And who knows, maybe somebody there might know what's making his head buzz.

Good Attributes: Very knowledgable. He has a love of learning and can learn more quickly than other people would. He is a very kind person, and will try to help people when he can. After working with the herbalist for four years, Leith knows quite a bit about Earnia plant-life and can usually tell which ones are harmful, and which ones are helpful. He has a good sense of humour, and he doesn't let what other people say to him bother him.

Bad Attributes: He never was a strong person, but after his encounter with the men, he was weakened physically, and when he feels that his weakness stopped him from helping someone, he can get very depressed. There is a constant buzzing noise in his head that started when he was almost killed, and it can get to the point where it is distracting. Sometimes the buzzing gives him insomnia. He also trusts people too easily. He doesn't like to let other people know if he has a problem because he doesn't like to bother people with his issues.

Secret Word: Fade... wait a second. Rebirth

Yellow Ring
Name: Illuminating Ring
Description:
Type: Non-Combative/Combative
Range: Individual to up to five meters
Duration: Depends on the mode
Other information:
This ring, unlike the other two, has three different uses depending on how many taps you give the gem. One tap actives the first mode called Search, two taps active the second called Illumination and three taps actives the final mode called Flash.

Search mode is just as it sounds where the ring casts a soft, nightlight like glow to locate hidden items. The ring will flicker off and on when something is close by that the user is focusing on finding. When hot, the flickers increase rapidly to give a general and foot by foot area it is located within. However, when cold the blinking will cease into a steady, faint light much like a firefly would cast making it useless for a light source.

Illumination creates a light strength much like a campfire, lighting up several meters from the source. It is useful to see in most dark caves not affected by magic or unnatural reasons. Though unlike Electromancers who can increase and alter their light source, the ring is set at one level only at all times making it possible to be seen by others easily.

Flash is a sudden, blinding light that can affect both ally and foe alike if the user isn't careful. When tapped, it makes a small hum for a warning to the user to protect their eyes then pops, shrouding everything within the scene in bright, white light. This will stun enemies, or allies, for a brief time unless they are knocked out of it prematurely by outside influences.

[User]
Lyn

Lyn felt worry grip her heart when the Wood Elf looked down. Her eyes shifted from Lyn's outreached hand to the snow elf, her lips locked in a scowl, then casually looked away. She turned her nose up at them both while she returned to watch for signs the line was diminishing, her foot tapping the whole time. When it had started to move, her eyes widened at the sight of the demons replacing the horse and seemed to think better of it before walking off elsewhere. It was obvious the Wood Elf hadn't want anything to do with the child or the newcomer-or the carousel now- causing Lyn to lower her hand. Her face fell into disappointment though she tried, miserably, to hide it.

She bit her lip, wondering if she had done something wrong.

Any more thoughts were casted away when Meirin gripped Lyn's small hand. The child looked up and smiled, her fingers reflexively tightened and her feet started to move, following close behind. The crowd seemed to have thinned since her uncle summoned the demons as many others started to shift uncomfortable from the attraction. This gave Lyn a good look at it and fear edged into surface. Not because she didn't trust Tyrael's demons, but rather she spotted children, alone, getting off quickly. The idea of riding by herself wasn't a comforting one in her mind.Her body immediately pushed against the red haired woman, fearful the woman would up leaving her behind and vanish if she released her hold.

When they walked up the wooden steps she heard Meirin speak which made her fear dissolve a bit. Her mouth opened to speak softly through she still could only manage sounds. "Tee-thh-hh…"

She gave up after a moment of two of trying. Giving Meirin a sheepish, defeated look, she spoke through the rune. 'Thank you. And I tried to say it, but... '

A little sigh came from her as she looked at the horse, and climbed up. When finally seated, she held onto the pole sticking out of the beast's back while she waited. The moment it started she would squeal in surprise, her body shifted with the movement, and then start to giggle at the sensation. It would last a bit before the staff began to shout for the riders to get off. Through she enjoyed it, Lyn knew there was still the petting zoo to experience and her curiosity was peaked by Meirin's description.

Mar

Mar's eyebrow arched in confusion as she spotted the girl standing outside her den, holding a tray. It was filled with sugared fruits, a salad, bread, cheese and not a single trace of meat on it. It was obvious a mistake. The was easily to recognize with the crown upon her head, the jewels glinting and shimmering in the twilight red. She had seen Summer, as she learned her name from Lyn, was among one of her daughter's playmates.

"With the opening feast being underway, it's expected. Mar said, her eyes fixed in uncertainty one the platter.

Slowly the Naga's hand pushed the door open and she slithered back. Her figure slithered back enough to allow the human in. The den entrance lead to a stairwell that lowered the smoothed out dirt floor, making anyone above six foot have to slouch downward to crawl through and reach to larger main room. There was the normal settings from a desk and chair to their bed, clearly left unmade during their morning romp. Beside the bed was a table, small and very elegantly carved from the college, which Mar pointed to.

"Put it there,"Mar stated the. Recalled something Athalus said and added with a slight struggle,"...please."

After a few moments, the Naga twisted upon her snake like tail and commented. "I don't think that's my order. Mainly as there's no raw or cooked meat whatsoever. However taking it back is pointless and I'm sure you've not eaten."

Mar inhaled and continued.  "You are one of my daughter's playmates, Summer?"

[Assistant]
Tyrael Marchosias

Sighing, Tyrael wasn't really in the mood to debate the morality of enslaving demons. But Tyrael was in a good mood, so perhaps he could actually explain what he meant to the snow elf. As Lyn and Meirin got themselves settled down, Tyrael decided to give a little lecture. "Demons will betray you. That is an inevitable. A deal, a promise, is just a ruse to make them trustworthy. What you need when dealing with demons is certainty. The ability to make the demon know that when betrays you, that you will bring it great suffering. Thus it should postpone its betrayal for as long as possible." Soon, after people started to gather their courage to take part of the carousel ride, it was time to get the ride started. Tyrael commanded his demons to move, and they did so with no arguments.

"The basic concept is mutually ensured destruction. Never assumed that a demon, whether it is an imp or an archdemon, is not capable of bringing your end. If you wish to control weaker demons, ensure a fate worse than death if they defy you. For stronger demons, promise ruin if they refuse you. If you cannot back up these claims, then your fate is your own fault. Of course, you can always try to make deals with demons for their power... But if you lack the power to enforce those deals, do not expect the demon to uphold their side of the bargain. Pray that when you deal with demons, they have the intelligence of fools or animals. At least they can be coerced by violence. Cunning demons will burden that abuse until they find your weakness. Powerful ones will earn your trust." That was Tyrael's philosophy towards demon ownership. Hardly a friendly relationship, but after many attempts at "Diplomacy", Tyrael simply found it easier to use the same pain and suffering he's gone through against the very creatures who inflict it on him. It was the reason for his success, and will likely be the reason for his eventual downfall.

Ten minutes passed, and the ride was over. Lyn seemed quite pleased at the carousel, which pleased Tyrael. He immediately dismissed his demons and they returned to the Inferno whence they came. The Fallen Orc tipped the carousel workers with an actual bag of coin before going to retrieve Lyn. "Did you have fun, Lyn?" As if he wasn't a towering hulking demon, Tyrael lifted Lyn off the ground and allowed her to rest on his shoulders once more, standing above all. It was only then did Tyrael also notice Satori, but figured she had her own reasons to be at the carnival. "Where do you want to go to next?"

Satori

Satori had hoped to distract Keri from her harsh memories and bring her somewhere where she could express her feelings without making a scene. But it seemed that her feelings for revenge were far greater then any other emotions she could have been feeling. Satori didn't need to use magic to know that Keri was angry. She didn't want her friend to be angry, but at the same time Satori cannot back down. She had to confront her friend and be level with her. So Satori dismounted once more, turning towards the bear and telling him to return to the dinning hall. The bear grunted and walked away as Satori walked back towards Keri.

"I understand Keri. I'll speak plainly: you're becoming a vampire. But you're still turning. You've been hurt badly, and I want to help you. Please... Let's go and make sure you're alright. Then we can talk about finding who did this to you."

[User]
Keri wished that she could take back the words at once after they snaked out of her mouth. It wasn't really out of anger which caused her to act that way, well not entirely anyway. Yes it was indeed becoming an uncontrollable amount. Keri knew her attempts of keeping it under control were proving difficult. Thankfully she would be able to unleash that fury to the one that had cause this grief in the first place.

She closely watched Satori as her old friend turned her attention back towards the bear. Keri eyes shifted towards Ssarak, as if she was about to ask something. The bear towards Satori's direction causing Keri's eyes to shift back. She intently focused on the cobblestone as her friend's footsteps drew closer. As Satori stopped in front of her once more causing her to look into her friend's face again.

As Satori laid out that she was starting to become a vampire, Keri lifted her bitten hand. A filthy piece cloth laid somewhat loosely upon the wound. She carefully started to examine her arm only now to notice filth on unnoticed claw marks. Her face paled as fear replaced the tightly held hope. She felt her knees lock in place then turned to jello. Air seemed in Keri's mind thinner forcing her to take shallower breaths.

" What do you mean by turning into a vampire. That's impossible Satori." Keri whispered, begging almost, as gravity forced her to fall hard on her knees.

[Assistant]
Leith was slightly surprised when Annabeth grabbed him by the hand and started to pull him along in her search for Khan. She didn't seem to have any misgivings about the gauntlet. It was nice that she didn't. Not many people can ignore the gauntlet.

'And It'd make it so easy to crush her hand. All you'd need to do is grab her hand and squeeze.'

Leith stiffened when the words were spoken into his mind. He was told that if he kept the gauntlet after it fused to his hand, at some time it would start talking to him. The same went for any of the Daemon Artes. The gauntlet had started talking to him during his mission in his fight against his doppleganger. After the fight, it had remained silent, but now it seemed that it had started talking again. Leith frowned. This wasn't a good sign.

With a start, he realized that had stopped walking, and in essence, stopped himself from being pulled along by Annabeth. He had to think quickly as to a reason why he had stopped. Then it occurred to him.

"Sorry. I just remembered where Khan might be. I saw him and Uicle having what looked like an argument in the Dining Hall. They both left and were heading in the same direction. They might be in either one of their offices."


[System]
Nickname/Alias: Hell's Strongest Accountant; Greed
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Age of Death: ??
Occupation: Head of the Monetary Division
Species: Sin
Appearance Description: Mammon normally assume the appearance of a young male of average height (174 cm [5'8½"]) with a lean, muscular physique that seems to be heavily marred with scars. He has overall exotic characteristics, with his hair being pure white - and normally maintained at shoulder length and constantly disheveled - and coupled with purple colored eyes and a pale skin that makes one wonder if he ever saw the sun.
His most prominent feature is the scar that covers the left side of his face, starting as a pentagram on his forehead, trailing down in a line that severs his eyebrow and mars his eyelid and hooks slightly at his cheekbone, following his cheek down close to his chin

Mammon's demon form is far from showing an essential change from his usual form, merely demonstrating a more curled hair and golden, reptile-like eyes. He seems to emit an uneasous aura in this specific form.
In the opposite of what his fairly tame demon form shows, Mammon's transformed form seems to be ridiculously different from the norm for demons, being demonstrated as a pure white skull with darkness acting as its body - being akin to the traditionally described appearance of a Grimm Reaper.
Personality:
For those who see him while he is working, Mammon is clearly an stern, overly serious individual without any especially expressive mannerisms and a tendency of lacking any expression in his face. He often acts in a calm, detached way and appears to be ridiculously cold and merciless, favouring efficience over useless blabbering and often acting in a machine-like way when making decisions, appearing to regard the efficient management of the underworld's finances as his sole objective.

Surprisingly, the same individual completely change when he's out of his profeprofessional mode, as he appears to be, in fact, an extremely fun loving individual motivated by nothing other than his own sense of amusement and an amazing ability of attracting trouble to himself, being often seen as unpredictable and even crazy. Amongst th sins, Mammon is known to be the most free-spirited of the bunch, not only caring just for a few selected things but also being capable of showing an extremely easygoing behaviour, able to easily interact with pretty much anyone as long as he feels that it would be interesting to do so and hardly showing anything that slightly resembles discomfort or awkwardness. He also appears to hardly hold the other party position as important, talking in the same informal way with anyone and hardly showing any special respect for someone - fact that is often show during his conversations with the other sins. His main "greedy" aspect is, in fact, his tendency of developing obsessions with certain objects, people or even concepts, desperately trying to keep anything(one) that he holds dear safe from anything(one) that could possibly take or corrupt it(they) - AKA everyone other than himself.

Above all, in despite of what is suggested by the behaviours he often assumes, Mammon is surprisingly sharp individual and possess an intelligence away higher than the norm, having quite the calculative side under all the irreverent behaviour and having a tendency of calculating every act that he takes, taking every single factor in regard before making any decision. Much like what he demonstrates in his work mode, Mammon's utmost priority is maintaining the functionality of the underworld's economy and the safety of his prized treasures, making him extremely dangerous for those who either bring too much of a imbalance to his loved division or try to take anything away from him.

Powers:
Major: As a sin, Mammon has a single unique power that acts as his signature move.
* Drain: Mammon's main unique power, this unique form of magic makes him able to gradually drain his target's abilities through physical contact, taking part of it for himself. This ability seems to qualify anything capable of being used to improve efficience as an ability, being able to drain not only things such as powers or physical prowess, but also knowledge or fundamental abilities, being able to act in more literal things - such as taking away someone's sight or hearing without damaging their sensorial organs - or even more conceptual things, such as taking an individual's capacity of reincarnate or even lifespan to himself.

Minor: Due to the nature of his ability, Mammon has hundredths of minor abilities taken from previous victims - most being weakened to the point of being practically unusable - as well as a sole innate minor ability.
* Darkness Manipulation: Mammon's innate minor ability, this ability is - as the name clearly states - the ability of manipulating darkness and shadows, freely changing their physical state and characteristics to achieve multiple purposes. Mammon's darkness, in specific, seems to be somehow connected to his body, being able to act as a vector for projecting his senses to do things such as interacting or spying on people from a far away place.

Sacred Weapon:
Devourer: Rather than an item, Mammon's sacred weapon is - in fact - his whole left arm, being composed by the ink that completely covers the sin's limb. This "weapon" solely increases his unique ability speed of draining.

[User]
Clarence Frontwater

"h-here,"
With a cock of an eyebrow, Frontwater reached out and pulled the lighter away from Beatrice's finger tips, slowly, cautiously.

"So, I'm as much of a famous tool on this heroin trip as any other, he said, with a scowl and a flick of a light upon the end of his cigarette. Clarence absentmindedly pocketed the lighter.

He heard someone ask a question, but he didn't care enough to search for the curious party. The vocalist had curiosities of his own. Ignoring the previously mentioned question, Clarence called out "Hey! I think I'm in the wrong place... I'm an atheist... I'm supposed to be floating in a pit of nothingness currently." He laughed to himself. Why was this heroin trying to teach him some moral lesson about hell? What in the hell else was in that heroin??

[Assistant]
Belphegor Sloth

The tailed Sin flinched at the sudden way Oliver pulled away from him, eyes widening slightly. He, almost looked hurt by the accusation. Belphegor was always known to be easily hurt, since he was always so open to everyone. That's why when people, especially the humans he worked so hard for, jump away from him like he's some monster... A sad expression fell over his face, but he just glanced away towards a random spot on the ground. He always got at least one human like this, and every time it stung him.

Out of his daze, Sloth picked up the familiar constantly irritated tone of Wrath speaking pointedly at him like always. "The second you are done with them, come see me. If you're not in my office within the next two hours, Slackass, I'll drag you there by your tail. And.. Leave the grimalkin when you swing by."

Hm? Why should I...? he's only going to yell at me about this and that. But I suppose I have to go. Especially since last time he practically ripped my tail off when I skipped. Almost as if expecting Satan to do so at that very moment, Belphegor clutched his spaded tail to his chest protectively, simply watching him leave. A demon's tail was as sensitive as a cat's- grabbing it too roughly was extremely painful. Still, Belphegor wasn't too scared. At least I'll be able to tease him a bit. That's always good fun.

The humans had begun to murmur among themselves, making Belphegor think it was a good time to lead them out and into the underworld. Envy would probably make them sign a bunch of weird papers anyway. But just as he was about to get their attention, a voice rang out. It seemed it was proceeded by a waving palm, but the owner didn't even allow Sloth to notice it before crying out his question.

"Mr. Belphegor or more accurately Mr. Sloth, if this is not supposed to be the hell we were told about and it instead is some sort of underworld, why did you write hell first in the now burned sign? Did your subconscious unintentionally betrayed the secret truth of the sins and demon society?"

Belphegor stared blankly at the burning skull speaking to him. He wasn't quite listening before was he...? "Hell was originally the most well known name for the Underworld, and because of that the angels have it a bad reputation on Earth. We only changed the name because the old one has a bad connotation." He stated simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Hadn't he seen this spirit before...? Well, he wouldn't remember.

"Alright everyone, please follow me. I'll be taking you to the HQ. Each Sin would most likely like to speak with you, I only introduce you generally. Shall we?" The blue haired Sin turned away, hands calmly in his jacket pockets. His Majesty had clambered out of his hiding spot inside the tall man's jacket, instead taking a comfortable place draped over one of Belphegor's shoulders- of course, Sloth didn't mind a bit.

---

The group walked through the bright city streets of the Entertainment district, it lively and filled with laughter and chatting. Humans and demons were mingling, shopping, and just relaxing peacefully. "Please stay close. It's easy to get lost." A couple of souls with a childish appearance called out to the male, with names like "Big Brother!" and "Bellfry!" The blue haired Sin gave a kind smile and a simple wave to them, who giggled and waved back excitedly in return.

They finally came upon a giant building, in an old gothic style made out of deep red and black marble. His Majesty leaped down from Belphegor's shoulder and strutted away proudly, as if not wanting to get his friend in trouble.
Inside, it was warm and cozy, already very home like. "I suppose I should show you to Levi first. Just a warning... there might be a lot of paperwork." He gave the new souls a nervous glance, guiding them to Leviathan's office.

Belphegor knocked twice, quietly opening the door just a crack. "Um... L- I mean, Ms. Envy?" It was funny. He would easily annoy the most violent and easily angered Sin without an issue, but when it came to Leviathan he acted quite politely. She was just downright terrifying. The sleepy blue eyes glanced around at the group of their leader, Lucifer, and Mammon. "Oh... I brought the new group, but I'll come back later if you're busy..."


[System]
Age: 13
Height: 5'2"
Body Type: Lanky,
Hair: Dirty Blonde
Eye Color: Dark Brown

-----------------------------------------
Background: Even before the outbreak, Bobby was a victim of others. Being shy, timid, and a frail build, he was the target of bullying throughout his school years. This led to him growing a greater disposition for books and his own company, or the company of his loving father, Stanley. Bobby's mother died when he was very young, and he only has the faintest recollection of her. Stan, on the other hand, was very close to Bobby, and helped him foster his love for knowledge. Bobby was quite particular to books on archaeology, and had grand fantasies of becoming an explorer of artifacts just like Indiana Jones. Ever since he witnessed the infamous "sword vs. pistol" scene of Raiders of the Lost Ark, Bobby begged his father to get him a pistol just like Indy. Coming to a compromise, Stan gave him a slingshot and, being quite skilled with one in his own youth, taught his son how to use it. This led to an incident at Bobby's school, in which one of his bully's was sent to an ER. Bobby was temporarily expelled as a result, much to his father's dismay; but it sure did a good job of stopping the bullying.
Then, the outbreak happened less than a year later. Stan, working in a busy hospital as a nurse, was one of the first to go; and Bobby had the misfortune of witnessing the transition. Stan caught on quick, and knew first-hand just as the rest of the city was catching on... but it was too late on to get his son to safety, himself. He urged his son to leave him behind, and compelled him to use the sewers as a possible method to hide. Bobby was reluctant, of course... until all hell broke loose, as the city fell into chaos along with his father shortly after. Bobby left Stan without much of a good chance for goodbyes, and took on his father's desperate advice to use the sewers. It was surprisingly effective; to not get eaten at first, anyway. He could still hear the chaos unfold above, the sounds of people screaming and being eaten alive.
Being on his own, he didn't have much as far as answers or comfort. The sewers have since proven to be a safe haven from most of the zombie population, at the least; but it has done little to prepare him for the outside world. After a recent incident at discovering his "home" in the sewers was ransacked, Bobby made an awful realization; the Raiders were learning about the safety of the sewers in greater numbers. Running out of places to hide, Bobby has recently been forced in more and more situations to attempt to survive above... and its been proving increasingly taxing for the unenlightened boy.
Personality: As already mentioned, Bobby is shy and timid by nature; add to being in isolation since the beginning of the outbreak, and his social abilities are... inadequate, to say the least. However, he is far from dumb, and learns the traits of others quickly. As such, he will be more comfortable revealing less (or lies) about himself as opposed to more. The world with which he has grown up in has logically made him accustomed to pessimism and distrust, where he looks out for himself first and foremost, if only for survival's sake. He is still a child, however; he has not forgotten how to laugh, or cry.

------------------------------------------
Unique Abilities: Having spent most of the pandemic living in the sewers, Bobby has a great handle of NY's sewer system, and his eyesight has developed quite well in conditions without light. On the negative side of things, the lack of sunlight has also made his eyes very sensitive to the sun. Considering this trait, Bobby is great as a night spotter, as a guide in dark places (most especially the sewers), and (as further described in his "knowledge of combat"), very useful as an unorthodox "sniper." In addition, his small size and height allows him to squeeze through and/or hide slightly more easily in small spaces than others, and/or to sneak and make less noise slightly more effectively (though he's no ninja, and trained ears will find him without much difficulty). As a side, he will also eat next to anything that's edible, having grown a knowledge of what is edible and what is not, learning out of necessity to eat essentially sludge and/or whatever rotten scraps he happens to stumble upon to survive (aka having a complete lack of cooking skills).
Knowledge of Combat: Bobby is an excellent shot with his father's slingshot, and it has saved his life from zombies on more than one occasion. He's a very good shot with it at long distances, practicing extensively on the dull moments of down-time he has in a day. This makes Bobby much more dangerous than his frail frame makes him seem at first glance, and has resulted in the deaths of two foolish Raiders (reluctantly, and still mentally scarring, on Bobby's end). Despite this, Bobby's preference for his slingshot has led to a lack of development and experience in guns or close-proximity weapons; if ever caught in such a situation, he would be sure to be dead without the quick help of others. Knowing this full well, he has lived his life avoiding it at all costs, and has been relatively successful (until recently).
Weapons/Equipment: 1. His father's slingshot. It is one of the professional, metallic kinds, and being a quality instrument, it's still in very durable condition. It is capable of shooting all sorts of miscellaneous objects laying about (as big as a soda can, as small as a tiny pebble). 2. A large pouch holding rocks and scraps of "food", and a smaller pouch of "bang snaps", those novelty fireworks that you throw on the ground to make a small, bright "POP!". Using his slingshot, these in particular prove incredibly useful for directing/distracting small to medium groups of zombies. 3. A combat knife he's found on the streets near the beginning of the outbreak, which has since become rusty and near-dull. Marginally useful for cutting through weak materials, or his own hair. Not very useful in CQC, even if Bobby knew how to use it for such. 4. An old, dirty wine bag for water. 5. Very large shades that he has also found near the beginning of the outbreak, used when the sun is particularly bright (and look rather comical on his small face).
Conditions: Bobby's skin was always pretty pale to begin with. Add to the matter that he hasn't been seeing much sunlight, he almost resembles a zombie from a distance. Also, while knowing quite a bit about the sewers, he knows very little in terms of the outside world since the outbreak.

[User] "And actually, we have to move, like. Uh. Now" The boy said, panic leaking into his voice slightly as Anthony heard the sound of more raiders approaching them. "Shit," Anthony muttered under his breath, "Yeah, you're right. You seem to know your way around here, you know any fast routes out of here?" As he finished, he pulled out his knife and held it out, hilt-first, to the boy. "You look like you could use a tool," nodding at the free hanging knife at the boys side, "now come on, let's go."

[Assistant]
"...You seem to know your way around here, you know any fast routes out of here?" As he finished, he pulled out his knife and held it out, hilt-first, to the boy. "You look like you could use a tool," nodding at the free hanging knife at the boys side...

Bobby flinched at the sudden movement of Tony's hand, assuming the worst; but was surprised to realize it was a kind gesture, as the gruff man held out the knife, the "pointy-end" facing away from him. What... what kind of trick is this? Bobby thought, unfamiliar with anyone holding a weapon towards him the wrong way. What is the meaning of this gesture... this man doesn't even know me. Tony shook it slightly, starting to grow a little more impatient at Bobby's hesitance, trying to kindly telegraph that he needed to hurry.

"Now come on, let's go."

Bobby took the knife, taking a slight moment to admire how sharp and pristine it was. The man clearly was familiar with maintaining such weapons... and it only reminded the boy of what a dangerous man he was about to join parties with. Bobby points to the forward-most sewer tunnel, and begins a light jog in its direction. "About five hundred feet this way, we should come to a manhole leading to a less... eh. Crowded part of town." Bobby winces nervously, hearing the stompings of Raiders growing closer, and the volume was growing exponentially. He waves Tony on, quickening his pace. "Stick to the walls!"

[User] Hurrying after the boy, Anthony spared a few glances behind him, and he saw the first of the raiders appear from the darkness. Turning around, he urged the boy in font of him to go faster. "Quickly kid, we got some crazy's on our ass." he whispered-shouted to the boy. He could see the ladder only a few feet away at that point, and sparing one final glance behind him, he saw the raiders catching up. Cursing under his breath, he sped up unti he was breast to breast to the boy, who was running like a gazelle, wide eyed and terrified. As they finally reached the ladder, he spun around and told the boy, "hurry on up, I'll hold them off. Once we reach the surface, these bastards will finally get off our tail. Well? What are you waiting for? Up ya go kid!"

[Assistant]
"hurry on up, I'll hold them off. Once we reach the surface, these bastards will finally get off our tail."

Bobby just gawked at him for a short moment, not really sure what this guy was thinking.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Up ya go kid!"

Bobby obeyed, scurrying up the ladder as the Raiders were mere moments away from colliding with the man. Ten feet above, Bobby watched in awe as the man stood his ground; either his bravery, or his madness, knew no bounds. Bobby fired off a hefty stone in their general direction, hoping to knock at least one of the crazed men out of the fight...

[User]
He had finally manage to make his way down to the second floor, but not without taking down two walkers in the descending stairs down to the third floor. He back up at a slow pace leading them up single file back up the stairs for a few steps until they were in the right position, then proceeded to smash in their skulls with the curve part of the heavy weighted crowbar. After dealing with them, he reached the third floor, but another one had surprised him from the back and nearly caught him off-guard, were it not for it's dead moaning, he would've never managed to turn around in time as it came out the darkness of an open apartment door. He stabbed into the head with the tipped end of his weapon and moved a bit more faster, not wanting to run into anymore surprises.

The second floor was in ruins. The doors were completely torn off now lying on the carpet hall, the wall paint was chipped and covered in a mess of splattered brown, mainly dried up blood from those that were either killing each other over food and water or from the dead feasting on them until they themselves rose.

Adrian didn't want to find out which was one was true, so he trudged on back down the path until he reached the second to last room, the door was still intact. He reached for the handle, turning it slowly so it didn't make the *Click* noise when you opened them, and pulled the door open. He quickly went inside and shut it exactly as he did when he opened it, and luckily he did to, because he heard the sound of something and the echo of shoes running through the stairwell as he just came down through. He moved towards the room window and looked out to into the the alley way. Adrian counted six walkers, all slowly walking around with nothing but the sounds of moaning and hunger. He had to make a decision and a quick one, because the he couldn't hear them moving outside the in the hall anymore, because the most dangerous sound was no sound at all, meaning something was about to go down.

'Hell no, I'll take my damn chances outside in the night.' With his mind made up he unlatched the the window pushing it up as it lead to the outside and onto the second floor fire escape.

[Assistant] Anthony grinned to himself as he assessed the situation in front of him. The ladder was connected to the main pathway by a rusty cat walk that was only barely holding itself up above the water. Pulling out his 35 lbs sledge hammer, Anthony began hammering down the walkway. As the first raider's reached the bridge, the bridge was on it's last hinge. The bridge itself was wide engough to support one person at a time, and the waters were deep. As a large mass of raiders bundled up on the bridge, their weight proved to much and the bridge collapsed with an ear wrenching screech. Som of the raiders attempted to jump to safety, only to meet the business end of the sledgehammer. Quickly turning around, Anthony began climbing up the ladder, calling up "Hey Bobby, I'm on my way!"

[User]
Once in the stairwell, Petra heard a series of noises sounding from farther down the stairwell. Not clumsy noises like that of the undead. They were short noises, measured noises, careful noises. Noises of a human. Now, Petra was not a people person. If she could avoid an interaction, she'd make damn sure that she would. It wasn't fear - it was apathy. She didn't want to be wrapped up into other people's problems. However at this point, she was running out of options. If she had to approach another person, so be it. But, these days, the living could be me dangerous than the dead.

Following the noises all the way down the stairwell, Petra made sure to keep her steps light incase the person got the bright idea to come back up or shout to her. There were no animated walkers all the way down, so she assumed whoever was below her had cleared them out.

Petra neared the ground floor. That's when she saw him, peering out the window at the parking lot. What was he looking at? She held her breath, standing just a fee steps above him, not ready for a confrontation yet. Spending weeks alone on a rooftop with little to no human interaction was punch in the gut to Petra's social skills. She let the moment linger, watching the man as he glared out the window. She had to say something, do something. The building was not safe to scavenge anymore and if she was going to go out on the streets, she was at least going to attempt to gain help before going it alone. Petra was an introvert, however she wasn't stupid. She wasnt going to let her preference for solitude get her killed.

The right phrase couldn't seem to form in her mind. Should it be a snarky remark, a fair proposal, or just a simple greeting? Before she could decide, her stomach growled loudly, prompting Petra to try and take a few steps up, only resulting in more noise.

[Assistant]
Bobby watched Athony in amazement at how effectively his sledgehammer made work of the encroaching raiders. Maybe this was actually a good idea... Bobby thought to himself.

"Hey Bobby, I'm on my way!"

Brought out of his awestruck daze, Bobby scurried up the rest of the way, pushing off the manhole covering and making his exit out into the desolate night. Looking around, making sure the coast was clear of any Raiders (or anything worse), he turned around and offered a hand to his accomplice; it seems, in the moment, forgetting his 'no-touch policy.'


[System]
Age: 16

Race: Human

Gender: Female

Appearance:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Adventuring Rank: Porcelain

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

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

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

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

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

Porcelain Adventurer's Tag

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

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

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

[User]
"Well...it would have to be pretty big," Steppe Archer would answer, dead serious in her estimation of the Lizard Fighter's endowment. And, frankly, the comment about a certain kind of "escort" went a bit over her head. Common likely wasn't her first language.

The archer felt bad for their lizard friend though for having to walk...but she imagined the horse wasn't moving fast. Even if it wasn't tied to a wagon, this horse had certainly seen far better days. Before she would take her seat with the cargo, the archer's hand would gently brush against the horse's neck. She whispered something in a low voice to it, feeling the horse could use some nice words to raise its spirits before she would take a seat in the back. Seeing as it was likely that bandits would attack, the archer would already have her quiver off her back, leaning against the dividing line between the driver's compartment and their cargo space. She'd be on the lookout, silently keeping watch. After all, if they got surrounded, they'd be easy pickings.

"Have you ever been attacked before on this road?" Steppe Archer would ask, curious as to how dangerous the road was if such a thing was common knowledge. Or, maybe it was just caution.

[Assistant]
Druid Girl answered a positive, earning her a nod before he accepted the change and potions. He had never heard of an expiration date on these things, so it felt better to have them now, Not to mention...he actually didn't know if Druid Girl had any healing capabilities. His own peoples shamans and druids were capable of healing, but they were elders. He shouldn't apply that to here.

His thoughts were broken up at the surprised exclamation from the farmer, making him raise an eyebrow. He knew lizardmen were rare outside the swamps, but were they this rare? The man was older, but the sun leathering kind of added years to him. But he had never seen one of his people before? Well he was a farmer...

There was some back and forth between Druid Girl and Farmer, making him raise an eyebrow slightly. Their final comments just got a blink of surprise. Sighing he shook his head, humans and their focus on genitals. Druid Girl hid on the other side of the wagon, probably to settle herself down from the ribbing the farmer had given her. The girls could ride, but Lizard Fighter couldn't. Hell he wouldn't have if offered just because that wagon looked like a sneeze would break it.

"That's fine. I prefer walking anyway and if it'll speed things up I'll even push." He stated while the man climbed into the wagon seat. As everyone was getting ready Archer Girl mentioned that his 'tool' would have to be pretty big. Getting a sigh from the large being. "Should I just reveal it so you lot will stop guessing? He questioned, his face deadpanned to hide some of his annoyance.

The Farmer explained the situation, which just got a shrug from the Fighter. If it was a threat he'd deal with it accordingly, like the boars when they were cleaning the ditch. Archer Girl got in the wagon and prepped herself for confrontation while asking the farmer if he had ever been attacked on the road. A good question and one he waited to hear the answer to while he looked at the road and trees ahead. He clearly planned to take up the rear, his long stride would allow him to move to the front if he was needed there.

[User]
"No pushun'." THe farmer said, glancing at the lizardman from the corner of his eyes. "Ol' nag couldn't keep up with ya, so you'd just ram the wagon into her rear if ya did." The man said, explaining that the old mare wasn't in any shape to go any faster than she already was.

Druid Girl had calmed herself down, and clampered into the cart at some point too, sitting opposite Steppe Archer at the back-end of the wagon, using a crate as a back-rest. Her cheeks were still a bit flushed and she was looking off to the side, arms crossed infront of her and a noticeably pouty expression on her lips, showcasing that she wasn't quite over the whole exchange with the farmer from before. Still, at her ally's mention of bandits, the caramel-skinned girl turned her head to more intently listen.

"Had a few run-ins over my years. Mostly just highwaymen though, sayin' they be collecting road taxes for travellin' the path to and from the town. Hah! Like this patch o'dirt could even be called a road!" The man scoffed, spitting a glob of snotty saliva off to the side as the wagon slowly rolled forth.

The horse let out a loud huff from its nostrils, shook its head a little and then kept on trotting ahead. The wagon creaked and popped, and it was bumpy and rattley to sit in the damn splinter-covered thing. Still, it beat walking if you wanted to conserve your strength and stamina. Palisade Town shrank bit by bit as they got further and further away from it, with the forest to their north growing thicker and the grassy hills and plains to the sotuh expanding ever onwards. The dirt road they travelled gradually turned into nothing more than a trail, indicating just how few travellers actually came this far out.

"Still." The farmer said suddenly, his grip on the reins tightening and his eyes narrowing. "With them goblins stealin' from my farm recently, and them rumors about adveturers goin' rogue, I ain't willin to risk my hard-earnings on chance no more." He said, grouchly I might add. "Ain't much of a fighter myself, and the old mare here ain't got 'nough sprint in her legs to run off if we be needing it. So, next best thing to do was to hire on some ... *ahem* Skilled protection. 'Course, guardsmen didn't take the job. Figures. Lousy sods just wanna sit in town and get fat on the nobles paying 'em." The farmer grumbled.

"Goblins have been raiding your farm? What do they usually do?" Druid Girl asked surprised. From what her mentor had taught her, goblins usually would only attack a location if they intended to take it over, or burn everything down and steal the stuff that didn't get destroyed.

"Anything they can get thier ugly lil' mitts on." The man said with a sigh. "They steal my chickens, my tools, materials. Heck, they even stole bits of my fence! They run off soon as I step outta the house with pitchfork in hand, but I'm tired of losing stuff to those disgusting little fiends." The man huffed in irritation. "Never seen more than two or three at a time raidin' my stuff, but they've been comin' around more often as of late. I ain't got time to be patrollin' me own farm and take care of all the chores that need be done. Hopin' some of your kind'll take care of those freaks soon." The man shot an accusing look at the three adventurers, before turning back to focusing on the 'road'.

[Assistant]
"Rogue adventurers...?" the Steppe Archer would ask, her gaze turning thoughtfully to the roof of the wagon. ...She couldn't imagine what kind of circumstances might make someone turn to banditry. Poverty for certain, but to make one's entire living off of ruining the life of another? It felt...craven to even think about. And yet, she knew that some of her own people had likely left their home only to have to turn to that to survive. Steppe Archer was just glad that she, at least so far, had had the good fortune to succeed in her ventures, no matter how...stinky they wound up being.

Then the talk of goblins...the craven species that tales were told of to scare children at night. From what she'd heard from her clansmen however, no matter what quarry, even something one dismisses as harmless can find itself to possess sharp fangs when its life is on the line. She wasn't quite sure if they would be as surprisingly deadly as giant rats or roaches, but she had to assume anything with thumbs and a brain could be more fierce in a fight than any normal beast.

"I'd rather not see it," Steppe Archer would say with a light chuckle to the Lizard Fighter's suggestion of him showing off his twig and berries. "Anyways, you can count on us, Sir. Any would-be bandits will be in for a big surprise if they even try," she would say, stringing her bow and sitting with it at her side, more than ready to protect the cargo if need be.