[System]
"Don't worry, the cavalry has arrived. Now we can all die together."

Sprite:
Nicknames/Title: The Emerald Lancer, The Sour Knight

Gender: Male

Marital Status: Single

Age: 20

Sexuality: Straight

Family Ties: Son of a minor noble of Jotenvarr

Class: Cavalier

Weapon Mastery(ies): Lances and swords

Inventory: Silver Lance, Iron Sword, Vulneraries

Personality: There are very few people as blunt and honest as Mikhail in this world. This stems from the fact that he sees lies, even kind ones, to be a waste of time and thus wants nothing to do with them. Unfortunately, this often results in him coming off as a harsh or even heartless individual, even though that couldn't be further from the truth.

On top of being painfully honest, Mikhail also has a penchant for being snarky. There is very little that escapes his sarcasm, much to the dismay of those around him. Of any given group, he is the one to play the devil's advocate, mostly just to see how people justify their stances on things. And it is important to note, that while he is snarky, he is not necessarily dismissive of others in most cases.

But if one is able to get past his sardonic exterior, they will find a man that is fiercely loyal and capable of being truly kind to those he cares about. Yet his kindness is something that can be difficult for most people to appreciate.

Biography: Mikhail's early life was simple and predictable. He was of minor nobility, so he was exempt from many concerns that others had to face. As he grew up and saw firsthand the lengths others had to go just to put food on the table, the boy began to resent the unfairness of it all. While this was one of the primary causes of his sour personality, it also led his desire to improve things for those not as lucky as himself.

However, being the third son to a noble with little land left Mikhail with few options. He could either grow old in the tiny shadow of his eldest brother or join the military and try and make a name for himself. Needless to say, he joined the military as soon as he turned 16.

Four years passed and Mikhail had found his calling in life. Mounted combat had come naturally to the noble as did lance play. The war with Alistaf left him with new scars, but also some renown. So when the King's call for new recruits reached him, Mikhail knew that he had to answer.

[User]
Compared to the training that followed, the first trial seemed surprisingly easy. Every day, it was like training in the ninja village where she stayed, except five time tougher. Her reward was food, perhaps the best reward among the ones her companions got. That apple pie definitely gave her enough motivation to continue... Ah, it was amazing. Pauline managed to get it once though, that one time when she hit all the targets. Most of the other times... Let's just say that she got used to eating wild fowl.

The second mission was up in the mountains. This environment was a lot less appealing to Pauline than the forest they were in for the last trial and she hoped that her stealth skills were enough to attack someone without getting noticed.

It seems that they were not the only squad who tried to complete the challenge. Pauline whimpered slightly when she saw the dead bodies of another squad. She knew she would need to deal with gore, death and murder, but still, it was incredibly distressing. A female scream drew her attention and Pauline ducked slightly, ready to dash off and help, yet when she glanced behind her back, she saw bandits approaching. The ones Hirotsuka mentioned…

Pauline barely noticed the wyvern rider in the sky when Tybalt called her and explained his plan. Thankfully, the bandits were slower than the mounted enemies they fought with, so they might have some time. The ninja waved her hand to get Hyakuya's attention and glanced at the leader. "We're lucky their leader didn't come from the mountains. Let's go while there's still time, I certainly hope you're good at climbing, because you'll probably be attacking from up there," – she pointed at one of the less steeper hills and rushed towards it.

[Assistant]
With the emerald rider closing in on him, the warrior pulled back his heavy blade even more, showing the flat behind his right shoulder to the direction Mikhail's lance was about to strike. He tilted his body even further to his left and kept his eyes on the encroaching foe until the very last moment.

With the clang of steel ringing through the battlefield, the tip of Mikhail's lance impacted and slid along the back of the warrior's right pauldron, sliding off at an angle as Rollo galloped behind the axe wielder. Instead of swinging his blade to the right and striking Mikhail from behind, he completed his turn and shoved the weapon forward, such that his enemy would charge straight into the wide flat of the axe's head. Assuming that somehow disrupted their movement, he would try to again attack the horse.

[User]
Hyakuya

With his dragonstone firmly placed in his pocket once more, Hyakuya listened to Tybalt's strategy. It wasn't bad. The manakete admittedly wasn't one for surprise attacks but he wasn't complaining now. After that, Pauline waved her hand and his attention was transferred to her as she explained what they would do. "I've spend a fair share of time walking instead of flying. I can manage that." Hyakuya replied as he looked at the steep side of the mountain. Good thing manaketes age slowly or else he would've crumpled in pain because of weak bones. "If we ever get spotted, I'll carry you back." He said, pertaining to how he'll transform and then grab her by the arms and fly away. He would follow Pauline as she moved, trying to be as stealthy as he can.

With that out of the way, the manakete took a deep breath. The risk was there and they were in a true battle, unlike the first trial. Here, they could kill people as revenge for killing the other squad. Something inside of him was just itching to transform and kill these bastards. He tried to calm himself down. No, he can't fight. Not yet at least. He needed to get up there so he can trap those barbarians and then rain fire on them when they least expect it. If they get caught, then he'll have to take Pauline back to the group before even thinking of making any risky maneuvers.

[Assistant]
Mikhail Fuast

It was becoming more and more clear that Mikhail's opponent did not become a royal guard by riding on the laurels of anybody else. From his form to his calm and calculated response to being charged by a cavalryman, the odds of being able to end the fight quickly and cleanly were looking grim for the lancer. And then his hit glanced off of the bastard's pauldron.

Well shit… Time had a funny way of slowing down when things went to hell. In this case, it was just long enough for Mikhail to notice the axe-fighter's plan. There was no chance of moving out of the way, which left him with a hard choice and only a split second to decide. On one hand, there was the option to roll with the hit and hope that if there was a follow up attack that he would be able to either parry it or avoid it. Or he could be an absolute idiot and hope it paid off.

The royal guards were given some of the best toys the kingdom could afford. Piercing their heavy plate mail was a dubious ordeal at best, but the price they paid for that kind of protection came with the severe weight of them. And that was a fact the totally inept decision-making portion of Mikhail's brain realized he could take advantage of.

In the moment before Rollo became all too familiar with the back of an axe, the cavalier relinquished his grasp on his spear in one deft motion and made a grab for the knight's wrist. Best case scenario, he would end up throwing the knight completely off balance and making him fall, which would then hopefully give him enough time to recover and circle back with his sword. Worst case though, he would end up looking like a complete idiot that dropped his spear and then fell off his horse because he overextended himself during the collision.

All in all, Mikhail absolutely detested what he had managed to come up with in his clairvoyant split-second. But seeing how he was already committed to it, he saw no reason to repress the insane grin gracing his face. Whelp, one way or another, this will be a moment I'll never forget.

[User]
Diana

Apparently reinvigorated by the appearance of their leader the men charged at them with renewed vigor. Diana simply smirked, they would be even easier to deal with when they were scared and angry. One axeman charged her directly seeing her spear, a mistake on his part. Diana held her lance out towards the man charging her and he grinned, chopping at it to knock it out of the way. Diana simply spun, moving her own weapon out of the way and causing the man to stumble off balance- directly into her shield that was powered by her spin. The man fell to the ground dazed and wasn't given a chance to rise by the lance he'd attempted to bat out of the way driving into his head. Diana's face showed no remorse as she returned to her original position. Another axeman approached her slightly more warily attempting to close the distance between the offending spear and Diana's more vulnerable self. His careful approach meant Diana couldn't do much more than nick him without leaving those behind her open to attack but the man didn't make any progress either and would be forced to relent before those tiny cuts started adding up. The wyvern rider seemed to be doing well for herself, already laying low two of the bandits. Personally Diana thought that going through the work of flanking was somewhat excessive and that they should just kick ass, but it was fundamentally sound.

[Assistant]
For someone who uses an axe, the warrior did a fine job of breaking stereotypes. He came off as collected and disciplined, instead of loud and brash. He seemed like someone who was ready to most any situation, but right now proved itself to be the exception. Mikhail's grapple attempt to topple his foe would have worked because of this, but the warrior's raw strength was simply enough to remain standing as Mikhail effectively pulled himself off of his own steed as Rollo raced by the unmoved soldier. His body tumbled to the ground, landing face up just in time to see the warrior hold his axe over Mikhail.

"If it wasn't entirely clear, we are not sparring." He rose the weapon high above himself, ready to bring it down upon the green knight.

[User]
The battle was certainly going lopsided in favor of squad Quinque, Heike observed from a distance. Was the element of surprise really so vital for their strategy? Could his squad have beaten them back this easily if they hadn't been caught off guard? The thought, frankly, pissed him off. Having freed his hands, and spotting no immediate rescue forthcoming, he prepared himself to make his way towards the squad when he caught movement out of the corner of his eyes.

He ducked under the grab of the bandit who snuck up behind him, and slammed his head upwards, smashing it into the brute's nose. Oh yes, he was pissed off.

"Son of- you BITCH I'll fucking cut your guts out for that!"

With blood pouring out of his nose, and tears in his eyes, the bandit gripped his axe and prepared to swing, but an enraged Heike lunged at his throat instead. The axe flew wide as the two lost balance and began tumbling down the slope, each trying to strangle the other, towards the raging battle below.

*****

Emboldened by their leader, the bandits charged forward in spite of their recent losses. They were out for blood now, and Tybalt's attempts at getting their attention had paid dividends. One bandit threw a hand axe at him right as the companion of the one he burned earlier, filled with rage, charged him from the side. Another of the axe users was trying to use his size to break through Diana's guard, willing to take a hit to take her out in one swing. For now, they ignored the Wyvern rider who had caused them so much trouble while she was preoccupied with her latest kill.

The flanking maneuver may have been a mistake after all, it effectively evened the playing field of the current battlefield, and allowed the bandits to retain their momentum in spite of the losses.

[Assistant]
Things were not going well, even though t:he plan had gone exactly as Mikhail had hoped. Not only did he manage to get a hold on the knight, but he was even able to keep his grip after the impact. And yet here he was, on his way to give the ground a big old kiss, all because the freak of nature stood still. No cunning counter, no artful dodge, just being a stubborn jack ass that refused to be moved.

Needless to say, the cavalier's breath was unceremoniously knocked out of him upon hitting the ground. But the sight of the axe about to fall on him made it quite clear that there would be time to catch his breath. By some strike of luck, or perhaps it was merely a consolation for his titanic failure, his spear had ended up right next to him.

The axe started to sail downwards. If he had the time and oxygen to spare, Mikhail had a number of rude things he wanted to follow up the smug jack ass's comment with. But alas, it was not meant to be. Instead, he mustered what strength he had left and barrel rolled out of the axe's way, grabbing his spear mid-roll.

The axe fighter was already committed to his swing. Assuming he was human, which truthfully Mikhail was beginning to doubt, the axe fighter would take a moment to recover from such a heavy impact. And in that precise moment, Mikhail planned to make a thrust at the knight's exposed outer neck. Seeing as the cavalier's attack would be made with him on his back, the strike itself would be severely lacking in force, but it should still be strong enough pierce skin if his aim was true.

Now don't kill the bastard, just send him a message, the cavalier reminded himself, grimacing from both the pain and his overall distaste for his current situation.  And that damn horse is certainly taking its sweet time.


[System]
Age: 8 months since prime activation

Gender: None, goes by the male pronoun

Race: Machina model based on Mura

Appearance: Built to appear friendlier and to avoid damage through physical abuse, Cecil was built to appear as close to a Mura youngster under the assumption people would be less inclined to hurt a child. Standing at 4'8" he has a surprising weight in his arms and legs while the rest of his body is lightweight and durable. His arms and legs can be removed to change his clothing while the strap across his chest can be unbuckled from the front.

Element Affinity: N/A

Magic: Self-technopathy – Cecil can attach machinery onto his body and control it.

Gear: Power gauntlets used by construction and repair Machina upgraded to the highest spec. Comes with a self-service kit. Cecil's boots allow him to run vertically on surfaces and walk upside-down through the release of magnetic currents. He can't run or walk like this on wood and vibrations can cause him to fall.

Brief history: Part of an experimental range of Machina that are designed to be able to blend in with normal people. Designed to limit Helpers from being damaged, Cecil was due to be released and established as a builder who would help with construction; however, Cecil held little interest in being one of these and seemingly escaped. The exact circumstances of his escape are unknown, even to him as the last memory he has was being out in the great wild world. The programming within him probably knew what he was doing here so the surprise to be had was not massively overwhelming.

Cecil felt he had a purpose if he was being sent to this side of the realm and immediately he was off looking for it, searching for what he was programmed to fulfil. Completely unaware of the troubles and even the Church of the land, his outlook was naïve at best. He was a hard working Machina, he knew that much, and to find what he needed to do was his top priority. He knew how to read but couldn't write, if questioned about his looks he felt he knew the answer, telling people they were for construction work. Those travelling would rarely question him and would either be curious about the maker of his Machina to which would only confuse him.

Cecil didn't know much about this world but learning it from travellers proved fruitful. He learned that people used machinery quite commonly and people didn't appear to know he was just the same as that machinery. Learning from these people was proving to be educational, but he still had some questions that needed answering. Any other Machina he came across and tried to talk to didn't have any sort of leverage for conversation, as if they didn't have a mind like him and was simply 'following the program'. Whether he was following his program or his own curiosity he couldn't quite tell, but he had to find some answers somewhere in his own time. To explore the world and find what he needed to do was his first objective.

Additional info: Despite being a machine, there appears to be something off about this new model of Machina. If the personality he had didn't give enough suspicion, it was almost as if he was more than simply a new design, almost as if he was assimilating a sentient being without internal programming needed.

[User]
Zander stood there frozen in place for a moment processing what the thug in half crazed hysteria had said. Sleep magic, would have little to no effect on him, he also doubted that he could talk his way out of this one. Guarding the door, suddenly seemed like a rather stupid idea to the logical part of his brain. He had no magic that could do damage, with sleep out of the picture he took a deep breath and kept his eyes on teh man's chest. Hopefully it would give a few tells of his movement with the blade, otherwise Zander was in trouble. He kicked himself for not hollering for one of the others, but knew over the ruckus he was less likely to get an ally and more likly to draw more attention to himself.

Everything seemed to slow, the sword wielding slaver brought down his blade in a curve, Zander hadn't even realized what was happening. He went to leap back and felt the closed door greet his back. Bringing up the wooden staff as quickly as he could, he swung it like his own sword, striking the broader blade of the others and giving him a chance to get out of the way from his deadly edge. He spun on his heel, taking three quick steps away and brought his staff up and around.

The slaver knew what was coming, and brought his large sword up in a sweeping motion. Zander's wooden staff caught it, but was not thick enough to fully stop the blow, red hot pain laced his chest again. Mirroring the cut from the ship from the ice, he cursed and bite his lip hard to keep from screaming. He wouldn't go like this, he had escaped his father's wrath and branding, had escaped his mother's claws and her beating when he spoke back to her. He cursed them with everything and for a moment, the slaver was his father sneering down at him and in his rage Zander leapt at the man. Terror and rage fought for being acknowledged in the healers mind but all he could do was get his hands around the others throat, having knocked them both to the ground. His chest screamed for attention, his hands hurt from squeezing the other's throat. He didn't realize he was screaming out his rage as he used his grasp on the other to try to bash in his skull using the wooden floor as best he could.

"I won't die, I won't die... I WON'T DIE HERE!"

--

Geoffrey cursed when he couldn't find a way up, and went to find a back entrance to keep tabs on it with his bow, no one in or out unless he knew them. He kept the bow loose at his side, as to not bend the bow and have it lose power. He kept his eyes trained and ready to take out any of those rats that tried to make a run for it. The building wouldn't be a good idea from him to go into, he'd lose range and distance. He kept his eyes open though, nothing in, nothing out. he kept repeating to himself. Not unless it was Ethan and their group.

[Assistant]
As nauseating as everything was they couldn't stop, not until Amuné was safe. Even as Ethan felt his heart in his throat and his ears muffled by his thundering pulse he stumbled along, not daring to turn his head and look at any of the dead men laid around the building. It was atrocious, unnecessary, and yet wasn't this what they needed? To save Amuné at any costs? Even so he couldn't accept that so many casualties were needed for it, all of their lives snuffed out for the sake of her. He held the girl dearly but wouldn't want someone to die in her place, certainly not near a dozen men or so. Almost running on auto-pilot as he walked along his head swiveled slightly hearing a growl and noticed Wyth's large frame slinking out of a door, Cecil hot on heels. That had to be the way to Amuné, she was somewhere in that direction. They were coming, she was going to be safe soon. She only had to hang on a little longer.

Blast that mountain of a man struck hard, and with only one kick too Nymira's arms already felt numb. Gritting her teeth as she picked herself up out of the crate she'd shattered she spun her dagger in her hand and watched the man approach her, anticipating his movement by watching how his torso turned slightly to the right and his his right arm cocked back slightly, ducking and preemptively avoiding a massive cleave that sliced into the wall at her back. Kicking out on her own she struck him in the leg to try and bring him down yet found no such luck, having to duck away again to avoid being grabbed by the throat. She managed to get a small cut on his side as she darted away to make room and took the moment to try and gather her thoughts on just how she was going to defeat this man. Powerful and large, he seemed well versed in combat too, not an easy foe for one her size. Magic wasn't an option, she couldn't use it on someone without a Saints blessing, which meant this would come down to an old fashioned brawl.

Keeping her eyes firmly on the man she watched every move he made, doing her utmost to sort the feints from the actual strikes and reacting accordingly. Duck, step to the side, knock away his arm, for a man of his size he was surprisingly quick and precise with his strikes, nothing being wasted in his movements. Narrowly avoiding having her head taken off she swung out at his arm and sliced along the forearm enough to make him drop his sword, albeit temporarily. Nymira only just managed to raise one arm to defend herself when she was kicked in the side, dropping her dagger as she was thrown across the room and into the wall. The impact was a painful one and her arm burned in pain immediately, her head swimming from the landing. With a muted groan she pushed herself up and stumbled to her feet, noting the blood seeping from her reopened leg wound and from a fresh cut on her head. Trying to retrieve her second dagger she gasped as the man was upon her, a hand around her throat as she was lifted off of her feet and pushed into the wall.

"Fuck... Fuck... They're dying out there! We've gotta move 'em!" a slaver shouted, looking at Amuné and the other prisoners frantically.

"Where we gonna move them, eh? Only two doors outta here and they're through that mess!" another snapped back, shaking his head and looking at the locked door, "They've gotta be comin' in here, aye? Let 'em come, we'll ambush whoever gets through and kill 'em nice and quick! Problem solved."

"Right, and what about that fucking growling we're hearing, huh?" a third shot back with a gesture to the door, "They've got some big mutt or something! And there's more than one of them too! We're gonna try and fight them all in this little room huh?"

"Unless you've got a better idea yeah, that's what we're doing! Now shut your traps and get ready!" No sooner had he said that did something slam against the wall outside of the room, a faint groan following as a warning that the guard had been taken down somehow. The three men exchanged worried glances before fetching their weapons about the room, the foremost grabbing his dagger and inching towards the door. Pressing himself up against the wall he put a finger to his lips and waited, not moving an inch until the door was kicked open and nearly off of its hinges. With a wild grin he stepped out and thrust his dagger into the first person at the door, expecting to see a trail of blood flowing from the wound he made. Only there was no blood, and the dagger barely made it an inch into the boy's skin before it stopped, unable to penetrate any further. Staring down at his weapon utterly dumbstruck the slaver glanced up at Cecil, not understanding whatsoever what had just happened. "Huh...?"

[User]
Wyth came in on Cecil's heels, slipping around the Machina and the man that stabbed him and leaping for the one beyond. But the room was more open, and Wyth's flank was undefended. One of the other slavers sank his long knife into the feline's haunch, and Wyth yowled in pain, turning to snap at the man. The injury had the cat limping badly now, but his girl was right there, he could smell her now.

Amuné got to her feet when the door was smashed in. The first one through wasn't who she expected, but really, she would even be glad to see Zander's scowl at that point. "Cecil!" she cried with a sob, running to the bars of her cell and reaching a hand through them, even though he was across the room. "And Wyth..Cecil, get me out of here!"

Wyth crossed the room as quickly as he could with two injured legs, hitting the bars of the cage with considerable force as he tried to break it open with sheer bulk. But the metal held, and he stumbled back with an unhappy noise. His girl flinched at the strike, but moments later she was reaching out to run her hand through his coarse fur. Wyth only spared her a moment for comfort before he turned to face the rest of the room with a growl. Anyone that wanted to get to his girl would have to go through him.

[Assistant]
Cecil was fairly confident that Wyth knew where to go, it just meant he was going to end up having to take this on alone as he soon lost sight of the others. He didn't know what he was going to encounter along the way whether it was more of those men or if they were starting to retreat, it certainly didn't help when he was so unfamiliar with people that bad ones were completely lost to him. If they had already escaped then that would be bad, it would mean Amuné would be gone too and then what. He was pretty nervous, not because he was going to take some punishment but because he was by himself in a terrible situation and nobody else was going to be able to help him. Wyth was not able to fight very well by the looks of him, he was definitely on his own. Frowning as he moved, he continued to look back as if to tell himself that he wasn't alone, but it seemed he was.

Just what was he supposed to do? He couldn't punch people too hard, they would break and he would get in trouble. If he used his electricity he might lose control of it and end up hurting someone he didn't mean to. He was going to have to calm down first at least, he couldn't get into further trouble after what he already did before. It wasn't fair, everyone expected so much from him but when he did fulfil his purpose everyone got mad. Maybe if he was calm the men would also be calm and not immediately attack him, giving the others time to come along and help him. But what if somebody wasn't going to come help him? He didn't know what he might do, he felt totally lost.

Approaching an area where the sounds of talking could be heard he couldn't really make out what was being said, but it definitely sounded like they weren't planning on moving quite yet too. He was definitely certain now, but with Wyth making so much noise he probably didn't have the surprise attack. Moving faster to keep up with Wyth he pulled back a fist the moment he spotted a man before throwing it as a projectile, catching the man by surprise and saving him the close combat troubles. Pulling back his gauntlet with the chain he approached the door, knowing now he was probably in the right place seeing as how the man had been here.

Throwing back a foot he broke open the door, being hasty to try and enter before feeling a force hit his body. Gasping only briefly out of surprise he looked down at where the man had attempted damage on him, only looking at him briefly before he wrapped his hand around the man's arm and let out a sharp electric burst. Throwing the man off to the side afterwards he pulled the lodged dagger out of his body, frowning lightly before tossing it to the side. That probably left a mark in his shell, but it was under his clothes so that wasn't a concern. Throwing back his gauntlets again he soon threw them straight for the other men, his eyes absent-mindedly looking to Amuné as she decided to bark orders at him. "Yeah! I just…was busy…" Moving quickly for the cage he pulled his gauntlets back to him before using slipping his fingers in-between the bars, pulling them and the ones beside them apart with relative ease.


[System]
Appearance:

Age: 22

Gender: Male

Gear:
* Weapon:
War Mace: An Iron Hammer with a sharp tip to increase deadliness. An easy weapon to obtain.
* Helm: Giaprey Helm: White helm made from Giaprey materials. The hallmark item of a snow-lands hunter.
* Torso: Giaprey Mail: Made of Giaprey materials, this practical armor is a northern hunter's trademark.
* Gauntlets: Giaprey Vambraces: The snow white Giaprey material of these vambraces make a tenacious armor.
* Faulds: Giaprey Tasset: Tasset made from Giaprey material. Superior item that matches ability with beauty.
* Leggings: Giaprey Greaves: Greaves made from Giaprey material. Beautiful design optimized for hunting.
* Talisman: N/A

Fighting Style/Tactics: Throwing full force into everything is how Kaze fights. Every swing should be made to cripple a monster, every smash made to destroy it's life. Using the momentum of his heavy weapons to amplify the force of his own strength. While others keep a monsters attention he comes in from the side or behind to smash their legs into uselessness. Destroying the core of a monsters strength tends to be where he is, crushing their limbs. Or sometimes even assaulting the head from below with powerful uppercuts with his hammer to shut their mouths, denying them their breath attacks.

Useful Skills:
Kaze is particularly skilled at moving through whatever environment he's in. Snow, vines, mud, or shallow water doesn't slow him down. With the strength in his legs it's difficult to knock him on his ass as well once he plants himself. Given the strength in his legs he can lunge in and out of combat, moving several feet at a time. This allows him to be highly mobile when dodging in and out of a monsters attack pattern.

Kaze is also fairly skilled in tracking. He's tracked monsters through snow and mud, some of the more difficult terrains to go through. He's not perfect but he can give a general idea in direction if all they have to go by are footprints.

Personality Buff(s):
Kaze is naturally aware of his surroundings and wary of his foes. He's always moving around, keeping things in sight and shifting away from parts of his surroundings he deems dangerous. Given his wary nature he's always hovering on the flanks or behind a monster, waiting for a proper opening before moving in. This makes him rely heavily on other hunters to create openings or distractions for him to move in and capitalize on.When attacking from behind or from the flanks Kaze deals bonus damage to monsters.

Out of hunting he enjoys cooking quite a bit as well. He grew up in the north where food tended to be bland but nutritious. So he learned how to make good tasting food that was just as nutritious. During his travels he learned from the various Felyne chefs that had their little eateries in the villages. He's not a master but he does alright when he has the ingredients.

Miscellaneous: Got nothin just yet...

[User]
Rex

The young man had been hesitant at best to hunt in a group as large as this. A four-man team, plus Palicoes, he was alright with. But in a group this big it meant that the spoils-- anything carved off the dead monster, any kind of secretions they gave off-- as well as everything that came from the employer, would have to be divvied up.

And it certainly didn't help that two of his party members were very attractive young women.

Rex had never been good with girls (even more so than most people), especially when they were attractive as the girl in Arzuros armor and the girl in Wroggi gear. Now that he thought about it, why the hell were they so scantily-clad (relatively speaking) when the weather was this horribly cold? Okay, so he would often wear shorts in winter when he was a kid, but showing off that much skin in these temperatures was dangerous. But what a view...! thought Rex. Blood abruptly trickled from one of his nostrils, and he took a handkerchief from his pocket to stop the bleeding.

[Assistant]
SIR SPUD

The laybrinth of the Yak-Yak was a twisted maze of icy cliffs and frozen death traps. Standing at the entrance of this horrifying place, one could not help but feel like their legs grew roots from fear. In the case of monster/farmer/potao morphs, this was a legitimate issue they had to deal with. Spud sat down in the snow, his leg stool rooted to the ground, and used his pitchfork as a makeshift crowbar to pry his boots off the frozen dirt. It wasn't an easy job, as his tender roots instantly froze to the ice, and he had to put all his force into freeing his legs. He waved for the rest of the party so they won't forget him. "Go on then! The beast be in there sumwhere. Leave me and me good 'ol fork to free meself, and I be with you in a heartbeat."

The opening to the maze was several times larger than Spud imagined, and he only realised that the actual entrance was way further away when he finally catchged up to the rest of the party after a 15 minutes trekking on the snow and ice. But this time he was 99.9% sure that it was the entrance of the actual labyrinth, and he made sure to let the rest of the party know his expert opinion. "Well butter my ass and call me peanut, I betcha dis is the cave of da beast." He used his empty hand to scratch his chin and nodded a few times with a serious expression. Now it was time to finally face the beast, and stop the ol girl from eating half the annual crop production. Spud readied his pitchfork, grabbing the handle with both hands and getting a good grip on the creaking wooden handle. Despite the rust and indents on the weapon, it still shined in the bright light reflected by all the ice around them. Without much else to ready or care about, Spud pushed into the maze along with the others, his fork pointed forward like the weapon of the legionaries.

[User]
@JackalopeLove@Sam12435@Otaku95@Zeroth@Lmpkio@KazemitsuThe Greater Jak-Jak
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 The beast shuffled through the thick snow, its pale blue scales reflecting slightly in the grim winter sun. The Jak-Jak uprooted vines and shrubbery from the forest floor, foraging the remaining greens from the hard, frozen ground. The monster brought it's head up from its grazing, vines and bushes hanging from its tusks like racks holding food. It sniffed around its area. Something in the air was musky, metallic, and all around... warm. It was as if a new kind of creature had encroached into the Jak-Jak's territory, something the beast would not like one bit...

"GGGGAAAHHHKKKIIIIII"

 As if to justify it's concerns, a territorial cry rang out from the very heart of the arctic labyrinth. The Jak-Jak, features perked and disposition deadly, cried it's own war call out into the grand, icey bowl it called it's home. And that's what it was going to be; it's home.

 The Jak-Jak's back arched as it charged towards it's den, ripping through packed snow and small trees alike. The vegetation that the monster had placidly put onto its horns was flung away with the power of the Jak-Jak's movements. The skeletal crunch of the cold ground gave an intimidating sound to the Jak-Jak's presence, the sounding becoming louder and louder as it approached the group of monster hunters.

---

 Whoosh would be a correct way to explain the Greater Jak-Jak's entrance, the limbs of trees flinging through the air as the beast brought itself into the front of the adventurer's party. Thick snow made a hazy mist around the monster, it's gleaming eyes and horns the only thing visible in the aftermatch of the charge.

 The villagers from a week-ago had obviously come back. They had trudged themselves back into the Jak-Jak's realm, and now they came with the smell and sounds of dangerous intruders. An angry mother Jak-Jak would never allow such an offense to stand.

 Flaring its hunky, scaled wings into the air, the Jak-Jak brought it's battering utensils down onto the party, creating yet another screen of white, snowy smoke erupt from the frozen ground. Brining its snout up into another charging posture, the Jak-Jak barreled into the party's past, lined-up positions. Move or be squashed, puny hunters.

[Assistant]
Lyra Steppon

As soon as she enters the cave, Lyra hears some guy roar with his own battle-cry. It didn't come from her group however, so it's clear that they weren't the only hunters here. Yet why would that guy give his position away so soon is unclear to her. Arguably she's running in blind, but at least she tries to make herself decently quiet.

Or maybe that guy INTENDED to give away their position.

Suddenly, Lyra hears stomping noises coming towards them. This wasn't the sound of hard rocks however... it was a combination of snow, slush, and twigs.

The monster wasn't in the cave after all.

The Jak-Jak bursts into view behind the hunter gang, with large branches flying to the side upon her reveal. It was a big mama indeed, and while despite being covered mostly in snowy mist, she still looks rather imposing. It's pure-white eyes gleam through the cloak of white, with her front silhouette of large front legs and gnarly horns being visible as well. However instead of trembling in fear like most people, Lyra simply grins stupidly in the face of possible death.

"Heehee!" she chuckles, "Fancy seeing you here, Big Mama. You wanna come and play?"

With that her grip on her switch axe tightens, as its handle and blade extends, ready to do combat with the beast. It's bright orange color, made from the scales and skin of the giant Tetsucabra, makes her presence fairly known through the thick snow, almost as if it was a flag. With that she quickly runs in a curved motion parallel to the Jak Jak. She quickly finds a small ledge in which she swiftly jumps off of and raises her axe as she attempts to mount the monster with a cry of her own.

[User]
Rex

Rex almost crapped himself when their target abruptly charged at the group from behind. Luckily he'd already gone ahead and loaded a pair of Paint Shot rounds into his Bowgun. However, Little-Miss-Wroggi decided to charge in with her Switch Axe and attempt to jump on their target's back. He was a good shooter, but not that good just yet. The young man cursed under his breath, and ejected the magazine of paint rounds, and slapped a magazine of Demon Shot into his Hunter's Rifle. He swung the barrel of his weapon towards the other members of the group.

The young man had a particular expression whenever he was in combat: a blank, cold look befitting a serial killer. Without a word he squeezed off a pair of Demon Shot.

[Assistant]
Kaze scowled at the sound of a shout deeper into the labyrinth of the Jak-Jak. Of course some nimrod had to alert the monster that people were here. They also had to leave behind some farmboy who somehow rooted himself to the damn ground. Why do people come along to hunt if they're incapable? He thought to himself as he stomped his way through the snow. Cracking the crusted top and mashing down the powder underneath so the others would continue to have an easier time. The sound of thundering footsteps started coming along, something bigger and heavier than a human.

"Great, it knows where we are thanks to that shout earlier..." He growled just before the beast revealed itself. If it wasn't trying to kill them he would have considered it to be pleasant to look at. The white and pale blue scales matching their surroundings perfectly. Of course the big mother was pissed they were here and charged the group. As Kaze moved out of the way he pulled his hammer from the sling on his back. He wasn't paying attention to what Rex was doing and the girl in Wroggi armor was already trying to get on the Jak-Jak's back. "It's to early for that!" He hollered, having never mounted a monster so early. Normally he tired it out a bit before even attempting that.

Changing directions back towards the mother he lunged at her rear legs. Aiming a strike at her calf with the more pointed end of his hammer. He had seen most people go for the powerful and muscular thighs of monsters, but that was a lot more meat to go through. He'd go for the thinner and more vulnerable lower legs and the feet instead. Not many could walk, never-mind run, on a broken limb.


[System]
"Drizzak is pretty dragon. Look at Drizzak scales! LOOK!"
"Me Drizzak, who you?"
Age:
16.
"Drizzak live long time! Young now but he live forever soon."
Race:
Goblin.
"Drizzak is Dragon! But really he Goblin. No tell no-one."
Class:
Alchemist.
"Drizzak make the dragon-juice, he make the boom, he make the burn and sometimes he make the feelgood gunk."
Biography:
Drizzak does not speak much about his past. Its obvious from the way that he avoids questioning about it that his departure from his family and clan was not an easy thing for him. If one was knowledgable enough, they would be able to find the skin-mark on his neck in the shape of an angry goblin skull and crossbones, meaning 'exile'. All that is known about him is that somewhere out there, in the world, there is a Goblin who believes himself to be a dragon, wandering around in that tattered red dragon costume.
"Drizzak have no past, only future!"
Demeanor/Attitude: Drizzak is, for the most part, extremely friendly and positive, bordering on naive. If one were to attribute an overall alignment to him, it could easy be Chaotic Good. He can be extreme at times, but his heart is in the right place for the most part. His extremism comes from his tendency to be easily excited. He tends to see all other races as different sizes of Goblin for him to preside over, in all his draconic might.
"Drizzak think he good goblin. Is you good goblin?"
Equipment: Drizzak has little to his name other than his chemicals, his weapons and his dragon costume. He wears the costume as much as he can, when he isn't in battle. Whilst in combat he ditches the costume for a simple pair of cloth pants, enchanted to not burn in the fire he sometimes douses himself with. They do absolutely nothing to make him immune to outside sources of fire.

He seems to wear a wickedly-spiked iron collar, set with a lovely fire agate.
"Drizzak like to wear dragon skin a lot, but occasionally he like his pants. They special. No burn so easy."
Skills/Abilities: Drizzak mainly focuses on dominating his opponents through the use of alchemical mutagens, increasing his strength and resilience. The mutagen gives him a red coloration to be more like his idolized 'ancestors'. He also has a surprisingly wide knowledge of makeshift explosives and harmful chemicals. He is not above lighting himself on fire if it comes to it. His knowledge of healing solutions consists of literally throwing potions at people. Thankfully, he knows how to aim them so the broken glass isn't TOO hard to pick out.
"Drizzak drink his dragon-juice and he make the boom and the burn. No get hurt, okay? Drizzak aim not so good today."
Weapons: Drizzak possesses a rather sad little crossbow, able to throw both flask and vials, and bolts. His previous jagged dagger has since been replaced with a lovely silver one.
"He can make shooty and stabby-stab too. No laugh."

Alator is a reptilian woman standing at 6'. She is tall and lithe, some would say she was too skinny at first glance, but ignore them. Instead of a coat of rough, dark scales, her skin is smooth and glossy like that of a dolphin. It seems to always look wet, even when dry, it just has that wet sheen to it. Her skin, in the light, is coloured a deep navy that fades into an electric blue, before fading back again. Iridescent in an almost hypnotising fashion.

Her eyes bear no pupil or iris, and are simply globes of white. Eerie at times, as you never know when she's looking right at you. Her face ends in a short, rounded snout. Starting at her brow and trailing down the back of her neck to her shoulderblades is a fully unfurlable frill, similar to the hood of a cobra. When angered or stressed, this frill unfolds along with a crest atop her head, giving her quite fearsome appearance. The crest continues all the way down her back to her tail.
"Judge me as you wish. In the end, I will still remain."
Name:
Alator Strongscale.
"I am Alator. History has not heard my name, but you have. You are only the first."
Age:
94.
"I'd swear I'm not a day over 30."
Race:
Lizardfolk. With a touch of something sinister.
"I walk as my mother made me. Of the scale, but parted from it."
Class:
Wizard.
"Hold a moment, and watch me light the air on fire."
Biography:
Alator was born in a clutch of eggs, just like the rest of her clan was at one point or another. Her nestmates were the standard fair of reptilian clan-bound warrior breed hatchlings. Green and brown and black were their scales, suited to camouflage and combat in the grasslands, marsh wastes and dark caverns of the world. The perfect brood, bred to defend the clan at any cost. The ideal warriors.

All except for one. One bad egg can spoil the dozen, they say. The same is true for the communal nests of the Strongscale clan. Even when she was within the egg, the nest watchers had trouble quantifying just what had gone wrong during her laying. Alator's parent was, surprisingly nonpresent within the clan itself. One too many times was her egg deemed to be far too small to be of lizardfolk origin. But something kept the clan from dashing her upon the rocks.

When the brood hatched, it was known that Alator was a lizardfolk. It was also know that she was 'different'. No black or brown or green scales to be seen on her, or any pronounced scales to be seen at all. Only the dull, iridescent blue skin to cover her, much like a sea creature's, instead of a reptile's. Born sickly and small, she was the size of a kobold when the others were already beginning their combat training.

Regardless, she was taught to fight. She favoured the staff and spear-like weaponry over all else, and instead of becoming an overall adept with a range of weaponry like her fellows, she chose to stick with a quarterstaff, becoming an artisan with it.

Raids were simple enough to her, being in the rearguard. Stay near the back and keep an eye out. Simple. She had keener eyes than most, and an even keener sense of intuition when it came to danger, or misfortune. It wasn't until she found her first scroll of literature within a raid's spoils that she found her true calling.

She began to go out on her own. To nearby settlements where no one knew of the slipskinned raider that she was to her clan. She went out to do something she felt had greater purpose than just raiding. She went out to learn. Language. Art. Culture. Myth. Legend.

When she unearthed her latent magical ability, she immediately sought tutorship from anyone she could find. Hedge wizards, sorcerers looking for assistants, street magicians. Anyone. She began to lust for knowledge. To crave it. She had to, nay, she WOULD know everything. Her attentions turned from the wider world and focused when she found her future grimoire. Empty and discarded in the smouldering remains of a village. A village she found to have been sacked by the Strongscales.

Her work had all culminated in this, her new purpose. She decided that after leaving unannounced and failing to return out of sheer hunger for more knowledge, she would return and display her magical findings. Findings that she was beginning to record in her grimoire with feverish dedication, as she devouredall the knowledge she could come across on her travels.

Her return was welcomed by less than she had expected. And she had been away for far longer than she anticipated. Her clan was all but dying off. Only a handful of her nestmates remained. The clan was weakened by its lack of good breeding stock. The Warriors were all but gone. Strongscale was no longer near as strong as in their glory days.

She showed herself as she was now. How awesome and terrible her power, that she had spent so long acquiring and developing. She showed her grimoire. She showed herself in all that she was, but they did not welcome her. They feared her. They called her a slipskinned abomination. They shunned her. Attacked her.

They made a grave error.

After consuming what knowledge they had to offer, which was not much, she moved on. Strongscale was put out of its misery and she continued to roam, in search of knowledge that was more enticing and more rewarding than before. She needed to know more.

She needs to know it all.
"Let history be. Grasp the now. Learn as you can."
Demeanor/Attitude:
Cold. Calculating. Morose. Alator rarely shows emotion other than quiet consideration or anger, preferring to mediate and moderate herself in mind as she does in body. Her attitude towards others is as his attitude towards everything is. She speaks on the level, and as an intellectual, preferring not to squabble or fuss over explanation about his actions or goings-on. She is the type to analyse her situation, her comrades and even herself.

Though she can be cold, she is not without her humor. She can sometimes spare a jape at someone's expense, or share a happy moment with another. She is not without emotion, just able to be separate from it when logic dictates her. Occasionally, when engaging her passion, be it reading, writing, conversing or actively practising about or involving magic, she can allow herself a moment to let her childlike wonder shine through. That or her ravenous hunger.

If you were to ask her a question, she would be more than open to helping you to understand whatever it is that is confusing you, should she have knowledge on the subject. Eager to teach, one could say. Alator is easily placed in the Lawful Neutral alignment bracket. She will serve herself first, but tends toward common courtesy and acts with restraint. When she can.
"Come, child. When we make camp, I will tell you of the stars above our heads. There are messages for those that look."
Equipment:
Alator carries little with her aside from what she wears and what she keeps in her pack. She grabs herself in dark robes, lined with fur and covering most of her body aside from her hands. The robes are hooded, and sit beneath a thick cloak of bearskin. Upon her back is a pack filled with relevant reagents she may need for her magic and emergency supplies. Other than those, the only other item she carries are her quarterstaff and her grimoire that acts as her spellbook. Her rather morbid looking grimoire is decorated with rusty iron and tattered cloth. It seems to be covered in occult symbols and scratchings.
"I carry my world with me. Never let what is yours away from you."
Skills/Abilities:
Alator possesses a vast knowledge base on phenomenon of magical origin. Her knowledge on other matters, and her general knowledge, are wide but mostly forgotten due to her voracious focus on magical studies. Other than that, her eyesight is sharper than the average lizardfolk and due to her strange blood, she is slightly more acrobatic than the average bulky, dumb lizard.
"Not your average garden skink, dear."
Weapons:
She carries with her a quarterstaff made of twisted wood and iron, set with a gem in its cage-like top end. Alongside this she has her grimoire. It's rather heavy.
"Careful, dear. I may not cleave you in twain, but I can give you a few lovely bruises."

[User] Elis hopped up on the man and pointed forward, "Onward my loyal steed, to VICTORY!!!" Elis laughed as Hugh carried him out. "And don't worry I won't steal your stuff while I'm up here."

[Assistant]
Hugh stepped off, the little halfling accepting his offer for the ride. He hugged the little ones legs to his sides, and strode out into the crisp night air. He breathed it in, taking a huge breath of air, and exhaling. "Let the adventure" He said, seeming happier than ever. He strode up to his large draft horse, unwrapping the reins from the rack it was tied to, with one hand and pulling it along. "Come along now, Rodger. We've got a journey ahead of us."

Hugh walked briskly, leading along his horse and carrying the halfling at the same time. He caught up with Sana, "Would you mind leading my horse along? my hands are a little full. Just tie his reins to the wagon." He said, shifting Elis up on his back, as though he were a backpack.

[User]
Ellyn looked at the wagon with a big cheery smile on her face, looking forward and actually feeling excited about the journey ahead. She stepped into the wagon slowly and observed what was inside. Ellyn then notices a comfy little spot which seemed perfect for her, it had a little desk next to it and she could write her poems on them!

'Oh! this spot seems perfect!!!' she projected in delight as she sat down there and instantly placed her harp softly on the desk. Meaning she claimed that little space.

[Assistant]
Drizzak leapt from the stool as he noticed the rest of the party leaving, toppling it with a loud clatter as he ran out the door. The bar staff could be heard outside the bar giving a sigh of relief as the dragon had finally left their presence, demanding nothing of them but their attention. The red of his costume almost shone in the light of the moon as he barreled toward the wagon, nearly colliding with one of the wheels as he failed to stop himself in time and went skidding around to the other side.

"We go! We smash! We burn! Ahahaha!"

His laughter was shrill and maniacal as he mounted the wagon and attempted to climb forward to the camel, where he soon found himself standing atop one of its humps. The creature didn't seem to mind too much. It must have been his domineering sense of majesty. His face almost split in two as he pulled an excited grin, jagged teeth glinting in the moonlight. The dark was nothing to his goblin eyes, as he was naturally a creature of the dark. He could see the road and the rest of the group around the wagon. It was almost like being in another raiding party, except everyone, or mostly everyone was taller than him. Drizzak was rather tall for a Goblin, but he usually paid no mind.

The dragon-goblin pulled the hood of his costume up once more before checking his bag and crossbow at his back. Still there. Still safe. He roared as well as he could, looking back at the others before pointing ahead.

"We kill dogmans, we eat dogmans! Yes? Hahahah!"


[System]
Age: 27

Magic: Dust Magic

Description: Dust Magic involved the use of very tiny particles of stone, earth—pretty much anything that can be classified as powder, as a versatile Caster-type art. Dust Magic can be used directly for attack, mobility, defense, or molded into objects.

Magic Level: A

Birthday: 13/24/x865

History: Born in the city Nepenthe to a professional chef father and a wine seller mother, Fleo enjoyed an uneventful and promising early life. Learning to read at a young age, she found great joy in taking trips with her mother throughout and beyond the town, always thrilled to discover new things. She received the best education that Nepenthe could provide, and discovered at the age of eight that she had a gift that none of the other children did: magic. Thrilled to discover how different and special she was, Fleo begged her father to find someone who could help her learn magic, and he did so. Four months after discovering her gift, she began private tutelage in the art of Sound Magic.

At the age of eleven and a half, Fleo and her mother traveled to a nearby village for a special fall festival, where Mrs. Plector supplied the wine that fueled the festivities. Fleo insisted upon joining the celebrations, but since she was obviously underage, she could not have anything more than a taste of her mother's wares. Instead, she trekked to a nearby river to get water, only to find that the water was absolutely nasty. Laughing at her misfortune, Fleo nevertheless joined the festivities and partook in a thirsty but fun night.

Two weeks later the symptoms began. It became tougher for Fleo to move; her muscles ached all the time and exhausted easily. Unwilling to let a little discomfort get her down, Fleo continued to go about business as normal, not even telling her parents what was going on. One morning, Fleo awoke to found that she could not move. The muscles in her arms and legs were so weak that the girl could not rise from bed. The doctors told her that she had poliomyeltis, a degenerative muscle disease typically contracted by drinking fetid water.

For three years she lay abed. Unable to see the outside world, she practically rotted within her own body, despite her parents' best attempts to console her. Though her education proceeded, it went slowly, as if Fleo had lost all interest in learning. She allowed herself to forget her Sound magic, she cut herself off from her friends, and she did her best to keep herself in an eternal sleep, so that she wouldn't be able to see and hear what she was missing. So desperate were her parents that they sought a magical solution. A guild wizard by the name of Gaudium came to see her, and he was moved by her hopeless despair. He sacrificed his own magical power to transfer it all to Fleo, granting her an innate proficiency in Dust magic. When Fleo awoke to find that her arms and legs had melted away into dust, she was brokenhearted. Gaudium showed her, however, that she could use her mind to shape the dust into new arms and legs, ones that weren't paralyzed by an awful disease. After thanking him with all her heart, the overjoyed Fleo ran around Nepenthe for half the day, and realized that she needed to leave and start seeing what the world was like.

For a while she was a part of an independent guild before they were merged with another, which turned out to be a nefarious Dark Guild. When she realized the true nature of her new organization, Fleo was glad to join a small squad of former guildmates to overthrow the Dark Guild's master with her massive power. Afterward, she traveled again, and had more adventures, always seeking a way -be it in magic or inside herself- to make her new arms and legs permanent. Now her journey has brought her to Pheonix Wing.

Personality: Looking at Fleo, it would be difficult to guess that she's crippled. After all, she's energetic, easily excited, fond of asserting herself, a perfectionist, seemingly outgoing, and a more than capable fighter. However, she's also insecure, proud, easily upset, easily scared, and very, very afraid. Her greatest fear is to be crippled, stuck on a bed and unable to take care of herself, experience anything—even move. Boredom and immobility are anathema to her, and to be anything less than absolutely free she regards as an insult to the blessing that has allowed her to walk again. Fleo despises weakness, both in herself and others, and constantly strives for everyone around her to be the best they can be. While her tendency to point out the flaws in others might come off as annoying, pretentious, or even insulting (her observations can be rather blunt), her intentions are pure. She does her absolute best to keep her condition a secret, and can get very agitated if people start prying.

Team Members: N / A

Three Strengths:
1. Dust Magic – this brand of magic is very powerful, and Fleo is an adept at using it.
2. Commitment – like it or not, Fleo will get the job done. Doing something halfway is a sign of weakness.
3. Righteousness – Fleo sees dishonesty, criminality, substance abuse, sadism, cheating, and the like as signs of personal weakness, and thusly will never stoop to partake in them.

Three Weaknesses:
1. Ultra-cautious – Fleo is unwilling to take any sort of risks that would compromise her consciousness or magical power, and will often flee if a situation seems about to do this to her.
2. Detached – Fleo both likes and wants to socialize with others, but her insecurity means she has a hard time opening up with them, and she also tends to synergize very poorly with others in combat. Pressing her will cause her to become agitated.
3. Disability – if Fleo loses consciousness, or runs out of magic power, her arms and legs dissolve. She will go to great lengths to both keep this from happening and keep it a secret, and failing that, she will go to any length to avoid regression.

Greatest Love: Running, experiencing new things, meeting new and interesting people, traveling.

Motivation: To achieve a level of control over herself so that she may live a full and happy life despite her ailment.

Supplementary Spell List:
Siracco (Sabaku no Kaze) - a rudimentary spell that requires no verbal incantation. The user creates a carpet of dust beneath her that buoys her up a centimeter above the ground and allows her to move across terrain without moving her legs. She can change direction on a dime, making this a more agile approach to mobility than normal motion.

Dust Craft (Hokori Kurafuto) – a rudimentary spell that requires no verbal incantation at the base level. Using acquired dust, the caster shaped it into an object. The more complicated the object, the harder its form is to maintain, and the more time it takes to mold. With practice, certain molds become easier to maintain. More advanced constructs require incantation. Dust Craft has the potential to create very large, very complex constructs, but these require the use of the particular Craft's Pristine Invocation.

Dust Bomb (Funjin Bakuhatsu) – a basketball-sized projectile that travels in an arc. It explodes with concussive force, spraying dust everywhere, when it is triggered by touch or by the command "kyuukei". It can be stuck to the ground, walls, and even ceilings to make mines. Several can be conjured by a single incantation.

Silver Wind (Haiiro no Kaze) – the dust is condensed into a single plane, which then shoots forward at high speed. It is capable of cutting through weak objects, and will generally carry away an opponent caught inside it. It can also be 'drawn' on the ground or on flat surfaces to act as a boundary.

Dust Bowl (Koujin Chitai) – a wave of dust blasts outward in all directions before spiraling upward into a funnel, creating a miniature cyclone. It is difficult for both living beings and magic to get both in and out, making Dust Bowl both an effective trap and a good shield.

Vacuum Rupture (Shinkuhakai)– holding one hand palm-first and the other directly behind, the user draws the back hand backward as if pulling on a massive syringe. Vast quantities of dust, sand, dirt, snow, ect. accumulate into a massive ball stuck to the forward hand, which can then be launched by thrusting the back hand forward. If the ball hits the ground, it will lose some of its mass but can be guided to home in on its target. The ball will swallow up whatever it comes across until it encounters something it cannot engulf, at which point it explodes.

Dust Devil (Sunakemuri) – dust is drawn toward the user, forming a shell around her before erupting. When the shell is gone, the user has changed. The bandages covering her arms and legs have vanished, and the limbs have grown longer and spiky, developing a texture like scales. A sixth finger appears on each hand, and the fingers become more like claws. Similarly, the feet have become morel like talons. When in this form, the user's speed and strength are vastly enhanced, and all of her spells that require the accumulation of dust to function charge twice as quickly.

Vortex Impact (Uzuna Eikyou) – the user uses Sirocco to begin moving, then accelerates until she's moving extremely quickly. At that point, she becomes enveloped in dust and starts to spin, effectively becoming a massive dusty drill. At the tip of the drill beneath the dust is the user's foot, making Vortex Impact effectively an ultra-powerful kick capable of breaking through solid surfaces.

Notes: Each spell Fleo uses has three variations. Saying the spell's name in English or not at all is its weakest incarnation. Saying the incantation in Japanese, the home language of her mentor Gaudium, is stronger and more reliable. Then there is the Pristine Invocation: the true name of the spell, bestowed by its original creators in ancient times when dust magic first came to be. Fleo must discover the Pristine Invocations one-by-one by exploring the world and finding the translations. As of now, she has yet to find one.

Appearance:

Beneath the bandages she constantly wears, her arms and legs are gray dust. The bandages are purely cosmetic, to hide the status of her limbs, and serve no other purpose. Her guild mark is on her belly.

[User]
Master Jamie

Master Jamie watched as some of the members immediately rose to the challenge. He smiled, expecting nothing less of them. Looking about, Jamie figured he could let them deal with it, but she still followed those members out, watching.

Better to be safe, then sorry. Today, Jamie was in her more...cute form. Almost looking like a little kid, Jamie wore a loose top to prevent any chaffing on the bandage around his side, and strode forth in pants that almost seemed too long.

Jamie liked this form. It was amusing to show his power in it, and see people's shocked expressions. For now, Jamie surveyed the scene. She had a feeling that not all was as it was here.

Penny

Penny sighed, and sat down, as much to hide her shaking as to be sitting. She gently removed Sayuri's arm, not wanting to seem rude before she did. That was for herself. Her skin had broken out cold and clammy, and it was just another show of weakness.

"there isn't much to tell. I spent most of the last few years searching for Sasha. We are half sisters, and she was my only family. I'm a fire wizard. I don't like being a Phoenix wing S class wizard, as I feel like im suddenly responsible for everyone, and that just ticks me off. I have to be careful what I do now, so it doesn't reflext badly on the guild, and it makes me feel trapped"

She slammed her mouth shut, having not meant to say any of that. She winced, and closed her eyes. "that makes me sound so horrible, Doesn't it?"

[Assistant]
Ariel
Other mages began showing up. At first they seemed to be coming from nowhere but after a minute it became clear that they were from Phoenix Wing. In no time they had the people under the rubble free and being moved away. Their efficiency surprised Ariel, most guilds she had seen were rather small and unorganized at best. Unsure what to do she backed up to let them work. Overhearing something else going on just nearby she spotted Damien attacking someone else.

Slightly confused she pried herself away from the demolished building and headed to the other incident. A bad idea? Possibly, she didn't even know which side she should be assisting. Either way she wanted to help if she could.


[System]
Nickname:

Radio, Jockey, Phantom

Gender:

Male

Quote:

"They say there is no such place as paradise. That no matter how far you walk, it is always the same road. It just goes on and on. But, in spite of that, why are so many others so driven to find it? Why am I so driven to find it?"

Voiced by:

Jason Griffin (A former voice actor for Sonic the Hedgehog)

Theme song:

Occupation:

Street-Racer (but joined the World Grand Prix, to see what was truely going on with the race cars)

World Grand Prix Rookie

Relatives/Relationships:

Thunder McQueen (Racing Rival)

Jet Hawk (Mentor & Crew Chief )

Rain Black ( Teammate)

Jacob Wilder (Friend and Teammate, Fuel Manager)

Jackson Storm (Racing Rival)

Chick Hicks (Racing Rival)

Storm Bird (Teammate and Tire Manager)

Type of Car:

Ford Mustang GT

Top Recorded Speed:

250 Miles Per Hour, 402.3 Kilometer an Hour

Type of Engine:

3.7L Cyclone V8 engine

Horsepower:

800

Transmission:

6 Speed Automatic Transmission

Acceleration:

0-60 miles per hour in under four seconds

Personality:

Radio hates oppression and staunchly defends freedom. Although he is mostly quick-witted and easygoing, he has a short temper and is often impatient with slower things. Despite this, he is a daredevil car who is honest, loyal to friends, keeps his promises, and dislikes seeing his loved ones cry. However, one of his biggest flaws is the fact that he is easily distracted, and as a result, other racecars often try to distract him when he is racing.

Because of his impulsive nature, Radio can be reckless and quick to act before thinking, throwing himself into trouble without a second thought and regards for others' warnings. He hates lies and evil in all its forms, exploding with anger when witnessing anything unjust, and will do all he can to snuff it out, throwing his life on the line without hesitation. However, he usually sees racing as an opportunity to have fun, making him a thrill-seeker.

Distinguishable Traits:

-The blue stripes on his body glow in the dark, as do his tires

-His racing number is 53

-Like Lightning McQueen's lighting bolt sticker, the blue mustang logo on Radio is reflective to light, but has its own Cobalt lights behind it

-He has Emerald Green eyes, and has a New York City accent, which makes sense, since he lived in New York City since he was "young."

-The silver logo for Apple Inc. is in the background of his racing sticker, with his racing number in the foreground.

[User]
Zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom!

"That sound..."

Zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom!

"That sound..."

Zoom, zoom!

"That's the sound of one thing..."

Whrrrr....!

"Speed... the one trait I hear everyday"

Whrrr! Whrr!

"It's been a normal thing for us. But obstacles were the phobia... a phobia that can take over, and drive you into the pits..."

Whrrr... bam!

"This fear... can flip the ride over, and never spin back up again. This isn't my story..."

Zoom! Zoom! Zoom!"

"This is about two cars, who are willing to bring in the storm"

The story title appears before the audience...

[Assistant]
"What you see is what you get. I am just a car who loves adventure. That's why I joined the World Grand Prix. Wait a minute, I feel like I am going off in a digression here. You're supposed to be focused, Radio! Not going off in a digression!" Radio said, talking to himself. He wasn't sure if anyone else could hear him, but he tried to think about he was heard talking or not.

With a sigh, Radio tried to force himself to say silent. He didn't need other cars thinking that he was a mental lug nut case, if they didn't think that already. He looked around, his emerald green eyes scanning the area. None of his teammates were around at the present moment, and Radio assumed that they were probably off doing interviews or something like that. He knew that it was an possibility of himself being interviewed later on, since he was a replacement for another car who just injured. Radio didn't know the car that he was supposed to replace as he was never really told a name. All he was told was that he was replacing a car, and that it wasn't Lightning McQueen.

"So, who IS replacing Lightning McQueen?"  Radio found himself wondering yet again. As far as he knew, Lightning McQueen didn't have anyone to take his number for the World Grand Prix. He admitted to himself that he could be wrong, and that the media as well as his own teammates were hiding something from him. It wouldn't have been the first time that his teammates did something along those lines to him, and Radio didn't exactly trust the media completely.

[User]
Today was the day. The day where she finally convinced her brother to accept in taking his place for the World Grand Prix. Back in Miami, where she would usually take over the streets, she eventually got herself caught, and forced to retire the street-life after being put on parole. Interestingly, even after Thunder left the streets, her name as "champion" would continue to ring in the air from other cars. Especially, female ones. So, she had to say goodbye to her agent Lewis, but she was more than willing to stay in contact with him if she ever felt lonely. That's not to say that she didn't want to talk to her new friends, but still, there are some in the world who are closer to her than others. Plus, it was Lewis' idea to reside with her brother until she gets her life together, after receiving parole.

But then, Thunder personally decided to stay after Lightning got into an accident in his last race. For the past few months, she had been working on their relationship, since they've gone astray during their teenage years and, as a result, they manage to do some brother-sister time, in order to try and grow closer. So far, they're making good progress. Driving into the party hall within Tokyo, it was one of those moments where her paint actually shined, with the dimmed, colorful lights reflecting off of the surface. She did have to get it polished before attending the pre-event, otherwise she wouldn't make a very appealing first impression.

[Assistant]
"Look at that car!" Radio heard somebody say to another car nearby. He had a feeling that the car who spoke wasn't talking about him, but he decided to make a cocky reply. After all, who didn't like the glowing blue Ford Mustang logo that was on his grill? Not to mention the glowing blue stripes that went over his hood, over his roof and down the rear part of him.

"Who doesn't like glowing paint with lights in it?" Radio replied, pretending not to notice Jet's look of disapproval that was directed at him.

The car who had spoken first looked back Radio.

"Not you. I was talking about the female car currently with Lightning McQueen over there." The car replied before driving off, leaving Lightning McQueen and the other cars that were with him in plain view of Radio. Lightning McQueen appeared to be talking, but he wasn't in Radio's earshot, so Radio couldn't hear what was being said.

"I barely recognize Lightning McQueen in primer." Radio thought as he watched the older racecar.


[System]
Magical Girl Name: Waffenhändler
Age: Appears 20
Nationality: Germany
Appearance:

Description: A feisty and wild girl from Bavaria who has been an occasional ally of the Grand Ministry in recent years. She is fiercely independent and prefers to keep her own path, driving the world in her mystical van to collect trinkets, talismans, and most importantly to her, metal junk to smith guns and prosthetics. She proudly immerses herself in punk culture from her homeland and never plays well with authorities. Her and Ozma go way back, and she was one of the first magical girls to work with her. She offers her services to the Grand Ministry these days as a vendor and sometimes helping hand.

History: She was born with hypochrondroplasia or small limbed dwarfism in the 1940s during the Hitler years. At this time it was German Nazi party policy to euthanize the genetically inferior. Her family attempted to plead with the government for her life while she lay in the hospital. During her stay, she'd discover the fable story that'd become her grimoire and restore her limbs with silver metal. Fleeing Germany afterward filled her with a sense of independence, and a demand to travel the world around her instead of the culture that rejected her. With her new magical girl powers, she constantly edits and adds onto her limbs for herself and has found her trade in her producing, buying, finding, and selling just about any needed item in the magical world.

Grimoire: Das Mädchen ohne Hände (The Girl Without Hands)

Classification: Fable

Description: An old german story over a miller's daughter who must give up her hands due to her father making a deal with the devil. She finds and falls in love with a King and is given new hands made of silver.

Grimoire's Power: Incredible powers of creation with her prosthetic hands, able to mend and mold metal in seconds to create devices ranging from guns and artillery to cars and buildings. She is able to heat them up to smelt iron and adjust them into various tools to make herself into a living and breathing foundry. In a pinch, she can turn them into hand cannons and explode her enemies with shrapnel and cannon. She can also create shields, swords and just about anything she can physically imagine and bring to life with her silver hands.

She is a huge fan of Einstürzende Neubauten, Kraftwerk, and Can.

[User]
Annoyed Chinami? Check.

Blissfully ignorant Tesni? Double check.

Charlotte here to intrude on what was suppose to just be the students? Triple check. Though to be fair, that was somewhat expected.

It wasn't often Silvia hoped more people arrived at an event, but she wouldn't have minded talking to Celina or Nessie again. But no matter how long she stared down the dark hallway, it didn't seem like anyone else was coming. Had Bonnie not summoned them? Were they running late? It didn't matter. She didn't care.

She looked over the group. She'd have to talk to Bonnie at some point, but at the moment it looked like Bonnie was a little busy. Popular people tended to have a lot of connections. Even if Bonnie and Silvia had only spoken with each other a few times, it made sense that she knew a lot of the people present. Silvia was likely an outlier in that regard. Of course a class of students would be familiar with each other. Why would they run off on their own to better their skills in solitude? Did the magical girls of Marrywell even believe in solitude for anything?

Regardless, it wouldn't do to just hang back while everyone else went exploring. Especially since she had been noticed.

Silvy?

Had she just been given a nickname? Before Silvia could even respond, Tesni went on to continue talking with her friends. The speed in which she jumped from topic to topic was astounding. It almost made Silvia dizzy. She could keep up with it, but not participate. It wasn't until Suzuya produced a torch that Silvia found a moment to join them.

"I don't think any of us want to burn down the school." Well, maybe one of them. Tesni did do a number on the cafeteria. "And if we did, we probably wouldn't be looking for your permission. But it's good to know you can extinguish your flames." Maybe she was trying to say that her flames wouldn't burn anything she didn't want them to burn because she could extinguish them. If so, that was a pretty passive-aggressive way to word it. "If I had flame magic I'd probably use it to cook pizza." A silly thing to say, but it was just to defuse some tention.

Ozma also had a bit to say, but Silvia was only half listening to it as none of it seemed to be aimed at her specifically.

We can get ratted out for this?

...

Though for Charlotte, the couch remained in her focus. Maybe she was planning on taking a nap there. Maybe she and Valeria would do some cuddling before the night was over. Who really knew what went through the mind of Ozma?

Though one thing was certain.

She was not the first person to spot the couch by the fireplace.

A woman's head rose over the back of the couch. Slowly, her forehead came into view. Then her eyes, then her nose.

"Oh, hey everyone."

She stepped over the back of the couch, revealing her less than modest costume. She might have been trying to go for some sort of animal hybrid mummy, but there really weren't enough wraps to fully sell the look, let alone be considered a modest costume choice. That was either bothersome or appealing depending on who was looking. There was enough jewelry to pass the "mummy" off as a pharaoh at least. Golden bangles and rings covered the woman head to toe. It wasn't immediately obvious who she was, but her voice was distinctly Mika's. A keen observer may have even noticed her scabbard wedged between the couch cushions on a second look.

"I almost came as a maid, but I don't know. I didn't feel like being a servant today."

And she wasn't alone. An all-white bulldog walked around the couch and sat at Mika's feet. He was unusually well dressed for the occasion.

"...But I still got roped into dog-sitting. If you're going to explore the dungeon, maybe you'd like to take Winston here for a walk? He'd enjoy it." Winston just looked at the girls with a closed mouth, as if he was anticipating an answer. "Assuming you girls want your privacy that is. I can certainly come with you if you don't mind my company. Or maybe you want my company? I mean, Ozma's strong, but you know..." She wiggled her fingers in the air. "There are things locked in that dungeon that no magical girl should have to see! Things scarier than any pageless that were too powerful to defeat. They've been banished to the darkest corner of the academy to ensure they don't taint the light!" Winston turned away from everyone and buried his face in the back of the couch.

[Assistant]
Olivia hadn't gotten far when a voice called out from behind her. Whirling around, she was greeted with the sight of…

"Bonnie!" the blonde beauty exclaimed with a happy smile. "And you're Tesni, correct?" she asked, refocusing her energetic attention on Bonnie's companion. "It's very nice to see you again! Liv? Is that a nickname? Oh, gosh! I've never been given a nickname before!" Olivia gushed as if it were the greatest thing to ever happen to her. "Well, at least not a friendly one… Hmm? Oh, Suzuya?" she repeated when her roommate was inquired about. "Um, she said she had a few things to work on but, oh! There you are, Suzuya!" the azure-clad maiden noted with a surprised giggle as her roommate appeared from behind Xolys's bedsheet-covered form.

Bonnie then suggested exploring the castle as a group, causing Olivia's already jubilant demeanor to brighten even further. "Oh, yes! I think that would be much more enjoyable!" the Ethereal Rose agreed, completely oblivious to the fact that Bonnie seemed far less enthusiastic about the whole "mysterious castle" thing. "And those torches will provide the most enchanting ambiance!" she added, turning to her roommate. "Thank you so very much, Suzuya! And this is my first sleepover, too!" she told Tesni. "I just brought a pillow, since Darling's cozy tendrils are better than any blanket, especially when warmed by his eldritch flames!"

It was around then that a startled-sounding Bonnie said something about a pool. Looking in the redhead's direction, Olivia saw that, sure enough, the was a large pool at the center of the castle's courtyard, shimmering as it reflected the moonlight. But what was it for? After all, it was a bit too chilly to go swimming. Still such questions would have to be answered at a later time, as another new arrival chose that moment to announce her presence, and she didn't sound particularly happy…

"Chinami!" Olivia greeted the knightly maiden with her usual cheer, although her running hug was stopped in its tracks when she saw the young woman's annoyed scowl. "Oh, gosh! I'm so sorry! I called you Chinami instead of Camelot!" Olivia hastily apologized, the fair maiden erroneously believing that to be the cause of her friend's less-than-pleased demeanor. "I completely forgot you prefer to go by your Magical Girl name whenever you're transformed… Oh! But isn't this castle simply amazing?!" she added, her eyes glittering with excitement the moment Camelot mentioned their unexpected surroundings. "I don't know for certain, but I think the haunted piano brought it here," she explained. "You see, according to the rumor, the piano can transport people to another world, but maybe it can also bring parts of other worlds to this one!" she continued to eagerly ramble on. "I mean, how else could such a lovely and enchanting castle like this just appear out of nowhere?!"

Olivia's excited babblings were brought to a halt with Charlotte's arrival, the "totally not a teacher" making a few playful comments, before heading over to where a large couch sat before a crackling fireplace. However, someone else was already there, their Egyptian-themed form rising up to reveal Marrywell's student councilor, Mika Fang. And reveal turned out to be exactly the right word, as the young woman's mummy costume was almost scandalously skimpy, providing yet another piece of evidence to support Xolys's opinion that Marrywell's faculty were a rather unorthodox bunch. And that was without even getting into the costumed canine accompanying her…

"Oh my goodness!" Olivia cried at the sight of the dapper-looking dog. "He's so cute! And I just love his little monocle!" she added, hurrying over to get a closer look.

[User]
BONNIE CHANCE

 "Like I was just telling Tesni, it was just a music room! Its just different now! IdunnoMagic!" Bonnie threw her hands up in some mixture of defensiveness and panic. The social pressure of thinking she had already failed all the people she was trying to make friends with and ... Wait, who had just asked that? Bonnie blinked for a moment as Tesni began talking and she realized Camelot was back!

"You're back! I didn't know you were back, Camelot!" Bonnie moves in, spreading her arms wide, pausing, then trying to subtly transition to offering a handshake. Bonnie tried to remember that they hadn't left off on great terms. But dang it she was a hug person!

"Yup, exploring's still on the menu, with a team this allstar, we should be unstoppable- er, yeah, I guess more people have shown up than I invited." Bonnie answered Tesni, a bit surprised.

"Oh, hey Suzuya! Didn't see ya behind the ghost. I think you're right, I don't mind some extras and let's explore. I did put a notice on my door incase anyone got lost, so, it'd make sense my roommate'd see it, eh?" Bonnie offers a smile to Suzuya and a wink to Camelot.

Bonnie seemed to lose some tension after more students showed themselves, and especially the teachers. If this was some legitimate threat, there were teachers. But it probably wasn't, cause the teachers didn't seem worried. It seemed in Bonnie's mind at least, no matter how much Charlotte protested, Bonnie considered her part of the 'staff'. And Mika couldn't get surprised by any spooky ghosts, right?

Now feeling calmer, despite the fact that she was no longer peering around warily, Bonnie's situational awareness actually improved, from not being quite so frightened. She noticed Silvia had slipped in previously as she spoke up and decided the appropriate response was a wave and nod of recognition. She wasn't quite sure Silvia enjoyed being talked to, so maybe this would be better?

"I didn't know you had a dog, Mika! That's neat." Bonnie seems to miss the point a bit, and gets caught up in Olivia's excitement and hurries over too.

[Assistant]
"Welcome, welcome one and all to these old halls. A majestic castle once long ago, now cursed and haunted...filled with the ravenous undead!"

A disembodied but familiar voice echoed out through the halls, reaching the ear of every magical girl involved in the castle. There's a flash of movement as something descended from the ceiling, clad in a long black cape with a red lining underneath. It's Valeria, dressed up as a vampire and sporting fake white fangs that hang out of the edges of her mouth.

She's upon Charlotte at once, her breath laced with beer as she nipped and bit on Charlotte's neck in a traditional vampire's embrace. She'd hiss in her ear and giggle before lurching back upward and waving an arm to the crowd.

"My first victim of the night! Muahaha! All this blad will go to my powers...and I shall become an unstop-oh nein forget this stupid accent blegh." Valeria pulled the fangs out from her mouth, rubbing her lips.

"Hey hey. There's food in the dining hall, I recruited the Academy staff to make a meal of just about any type of food or drink since I wasn't sure what people wanted."

Valeria would fall back into a seat next to Charlotte, kicking her boot clad feet up and hanging them up over the side of her seat.

"The teachers can hang out here, just to make sure you guys aren't sneaking booze in. Because that would be terrible. Especially since you haven't shared it with me."

Valeria chuckled, downing a glass bottle of Heniken in only a few steady gulps.