[System]
Character Sheet-
Age: 25
Pronouns: She/Her
Profession: Data Entry (from home)
Personality: Surprisingly friendly and outgoing. She always wants to go out and do something, especially since she works from home.
How long have you lived in Ashton?: 2 weeks
What would most people know about you?: Went to college for English, wants to write a novel, no she does not want to be a teacher
Additional info you want to share: Nyx is the most boring person you can be. She drinks but doesn't do drugs. She lives alone and calls her mother every night before bed. Has had a very normal and healthy life. As far as Nyx can tell everything is great! Except she can't hold down a man. Her mother keeps telling her that it is her fault, and is always the one to ruin the relationship. "You're too cold! I shouldn't have to tell my adult daughter she needs to be more imitate with her boyfriends!" - Nyx's mother. She can't help, she just isn't a very physical person. She is honestly happy as long as she has her friends around.

[User] The story begins at 4:00pm on the first day of December. Holiday decorations are all around, and Christmas songs dominate the local radio stations. All seemed well this morning. However, reports are coming out that the body of Ashton's recently retired sheriff, Nick Dalton, has been found near Azure Lake. No more information has been released on the matter, but much of the town is in as state of shock. Sheriff Dalton was considered to be a hero by many...but at the very least he has always been seen as a good man by most.

[Assistant]
Nyx let the radio chatter as she continued to unpack. She had lived in Ashton for two weeks, long enough for most people to have set up their entire apartment and even begin decorating. Nyx was not like those people. Nyx had her desk setup, complete with electric blanket, space heater, and water heater. Her desktop wasn't top of the line, but it did well enough. She didn't need it to do anything super exciting, or run complex programs or video games. She was just extremely proficient with excel.

Her desk was the only thing set up. She had her boxes of kitchen goods half opened, enough for her to find bowls for soup and cereal. She still hadn't found any of her silverware, and a plastic spoon sat next to her sink. Nyx didn't want to ruin the environment, all those turtles and jellyfish. She thought it was about the turtles and jellyfish, though she wasn't sure.

The radio finished another round of "White Christmas" updating everyone on the body that had been found by the lake.

"The entire reason I moved here was that it was supposed to be some nice town." Nyx sighed.

[User]
Pop pop pop pop!

Helena's fists hit the heavy bag in a quick four-punch combo. She slipped to the side and took a step back from the heavy bag, bouncing on her toes and waiting for her imaginary opponent to mess up. The opponent she pictured in her head threw a cross, which she easily slipped, then followed with a quick left hook. She ducked under it and moved forward into range and unleashed another combo. She hit the bag with a quick left hook to the body, to the head, then popped a cross to give her some cover while she slipped back out of her opponent's range. Helena breathed through her nose and let out a soft exhale through her mouth as she waited for her imaginary opponent's next move. She controlled her breathing, staying calm and collected as her heartbeat grew faster with every movement. Before she knew it her timer was beeping and the final round was over. She dropped her hands and pulled off her training gloves. They weighed 16 ounces and were her favorite gloves. She had several different pairs of gloves for different types of training, but her 16 ounce gloves were always her favorite. Maybe it was because they were the heaviest she wore, maybe it was because they provided the most cushioning for her hands, or maybe it was because they had lasted her so long. Either way, she was very partial to this specific pair of gloves.

With her workout over, Helena made her way to the lockers and showered. Fortunately, her boxing gym offered showers, something she was incredibly grateful for. She finished, got dressed, and quickly put her damp hair up into a loose ponytail. On the way out, she saw her coach who was training another young prospect. "How'd you do, Champ?" he asked her, holding out his fist.

She gave him a fist bump and replied with a large grin, "Not bad, but always room for improvement!"

"That's what I like to hear!" he said with a chuckle, "Go home and get some rest kid."

"Sounds good, Coach!" With that, she exited the gym. The air was like ice. She had a love-hate relationship with the cold weather. On one hand, the city always looked gorgeous with the blankets of snow covering everything in sight. On the other hand, she tended to experience more asthma in the cold and that hindered her ability to train outside of the boxing gym. She already had to be cautious when training, the cold just made it harder. At times, even sitting down in the cold could trigger some of her symptoms.

Helena quickly made her way to her car and hopped in. Somehow it was much colder in there than it was outside. She cursed under her breath and started it up as quickly as possible, hoping the heater would warm up within the next few seconds. The young woman pulled out of her spot and made her way home. For the past year, she lived with her friend Brittany on the other side of town. They lived together since they were 15 and were still good friends, so naturally they didn't mind renting a two-bedroom apartment together once they were financially stable enough to do so. They were lucky to get a place a few miles away from Brittany's family's home. They were just far enough to be independent, but close enough to go to family dinners and events every couple of weeks.

Before getting home, Helena made a detour to the local cafe. They had great hot drinks, which were especially welcomed in the winter. She parked as close to the entrance as possible and made her way inside. Her plans were to get herself something small and to bring home something for her roommate.

[Assistant]
Location: Brewster's Coffee & Treats

As you enter the establishment you are greeted by an obviously disheveled waitress that you recognize. She is a sweetheart of a young woman named Dawn, and despite having a history of messing up orders she is always polite and helpful. Her hair is messier than usual, and despite the cafe being rather slow at the moment she seems anxious and overwhelmed.

"Welcome back ma'am. What can I get you? Start you off with a coffee....or a tea?"

[User]
"Hey Dawn!" Helena greeted, happy to see the young waitress. However, upon seeing Dawn's out of sorts look, Helena grew concerned. Even during the cafe's rushes, the waitress never seemed too overwhelmed. Why was today so different?

"Is everything okay?" Helena asked, though it was obvious something was wrong. She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and slipped it out to take a peek. She didn't like being on her phone when talking to others, but considering this was her business and personal phone she always had to at least check.

The notification hit her like a metal bat. Ashton's Retired Sheriff Nick Dalton, Dead, Body Recovered Near Azure Lake. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach and she even felt her eyes become a bit watery. Although she wasn't close to the man, she had seen him around town here and there. His kindness was strong in and out of uniform. He was the town's role model and hero. How could he be dead? She didn't bother reading the article, at least not yet. Questions zoomed through her head, but she shoved them to the side.

Helena gulped, pulled herself together, then returned her attention to Dawn. "Everything okay?" she repeated, clearing her throat and allowing a faint smile to appear on her lips.

[Assistant]
Rosaline sat at a table in Brewster's near a window, warming her cold hands up on a large cup of hot cocoa. Her hair hung in a loose braid over her shoulder as she skimmed over some university notes for an upcoming assignment. She glanced up briefly as Dawn greeted a customer, taking a moment to sip on her drink.

It didn't escape her notice that the two women were being weirdly quiet at the shop entrance, she'd have thought the new customer would have been seated and already ordering by now.

[User]
Nyx turned the radio off, looking out her window. It was a winter wonderland outside. If it continued to snow all month, she would have her first white Christmas here in Ashton. When she was younger and living her parents in South Carolina, there was never snow, or worse it iced the small town over. It was beautiful in a way, making everything looking preserved in clear acrylic.

Nyx grabbed a striped sweater to put over her black t-shirt, then a light jacket, and then her parka. She had been stuck at the house all day, and there was only so long she could sit at home alone. She grabbed her mittens and earmuffs, with a scarf wrapped around her face. She grew up in the South, she didn't get understand how much she would need to bundle.

Grabbing her backpack, keys, phone, and wallet she decided it was time to do some sightseeing. Her car was parked on the side of the road, but she had no faith in her ability to drive in the snow. Ashton actually had things within walking distance, which was an amazing change of pace. She checked her phone and used Google Maps to make her way to a small cafe called "Brewsters Coffee and Treats".

By the time Nyx arrived, she felt like she couldn't feel her face, hands, or feet. She made a note to herself that perhaps she should learn to drive in the show. Was that a class she could take?

[Assistant]
It was another freezing day and Sal was not here for it. Don't get it wrong, it was gorgeous and she loved it, but today, at this exact time and moment - she was fed up. Studying during what little hours she was awake and at home and then heading off to work the nights and early mornings away, it was a wonder she ever found time to take care of herself. When she finally was able to drag herself from the confines of her warm bed, she dressed and shuffled herself out the door of her apartment.

Locking up the apartment, she glanced at the new neighbor's place a few doors down. She was pretty quiet and obviously kept to herself - something Sal was appreciative of. There were too many people in these apartments that just liked to get too wild during the day which threw off her already fucked sleeping schedule. Shaking the thought of the new girl down the hall, Sal pulled up the collar on her black winter coat and began the trek towards Brewster's. She was in some serious need of a pick me up and Brewster's was the best of the best.

Upon arriving Sal noticed the amount of people congregated at the entry way to be a little more than usual for the cafe's slow hours. It didn't matter how delicious this place was, it was a still a business that had off hours where traffic ran thin. So for a number of people to just be standing around at the front, not ordering, or hardly speaking, it was a more than a little off-putting.

Sal did not have time for this, checking her watch she grumbled, before wedging her way through the throng of bodies gathered round until she came to Dawn at the counter. "Order or don't, but you need to move outta the fucking doorway." She called back at the others with a less than pleasant tone. Without even looking up at the menu or even at poor Dawn Sal placed her order of an affogato with an additional shot of amaretto.

There was a television playing softly behind the counter and up high for the patrons to view. It was showing the local news marketed as "Breaking", someone in the cafe called for the volume to be turned up and what came next practically shocked those in the vicinity. "Ashton's Retired Sheriff Nick Dalton, Dead, Body Recovered Near Azure Lake...". The room became eerily silent, not even the tinkering of silverware or ceramic was heard. Everyone just kinda stared on in disbelief. Sal knew the guy, he wasn't all that bad. Quite the opposite. Was always stopping by the club for one reason or another, but hey, that was most people in Ashton. He had helped her with some unwanted patrons on more than one occasion and for that she was always grateful. So to see him gone, and murdered no less, it struck a cord in her that made her uneasy.

Why would someone wanna hurt him?


[System]
Apparent Age: 20? 25?

"IS": A rabbit, for all you know.

Description: This Kite stands at 4'4" as a bipedal white rabbit shrouded in black attire noted in 'Armaments'. Lithe and otherwise physically unimposing.

Armaments: Mage attire, at a glance. They're garbed in a yet-to-be-inspected midnight-black fabric: A hooded robe ending at the knees and elbows, long boots with a yet-to-be-inspected metal 1.5inch heel and toes, gloves end in similar metal segments at each fingertip. All Kites currently seen are dressed the same, sporting a horned bird mask which somewhat obscures the fact that they're not human, though the fur of Violet's kite is snow white. The purpose of the mask is currently unknown.

Teraterifficence: Violet's Kite apparently wields a terrifying proficiency with psionics, capable of 'thinking' concepts into reality either inside another person's mind as vivid, potentially brain-melting hallucinations or, as demonstrated in Post Zero, manifesting physical objects typically in the form of nebulous and fleeting bladed objects.
A uniqueness in what 'pact' that has apparently been signed with Violet, Violet's Kite does not stay dead, apparently capable of rapidly recovering from mortal injury or at least eschewing the finality of spells that would otherwise outright kill a target. The extent of this power is currently unknown.

Your World: The Backwards Castle; built upside-down, its tallest tower reaches far underground.

Backstory: There is a tree. There is a kite. There is more than one kite. This one belongs to Violet.

Main Theme

Boss Theme 0: 'The Tangled Kites'

Name: Keepakura Suketthe Nyvaal 'The Seer of Eyes and Biter of Teeth', 'The Keeper of All Hollows', 'The Bird That Eats Us'

Apparent Age: Indeterminable

"IS": Indeterminable

Description: A snow-white beak and nebulous darkness filling in their empty eye-sockets and mouth save for how a set of large humanoid teeth and a long ink-black tongue seemingly float within. They posess a myriad of hands and heads, though a body has yet to be seen.

Armaments: Indeterminable

Teraterifficence: Unknown

Your World: The Backwards Castle

Backstory: "See nawh...once upon a tiiiime...ah simply was...an now here we aahr~"

Other: Speaks with a hauntingly pleasant southern drawl akin to a gentleman at all times.
"The Haunt"

"The Bird That Eats Us!"

Obligatory: Sponsor 'MasonParker' on Paetreon for their artwork that I used for 'Keepa'

Name: Kaath...
Apparent Age: Their alien race makes it difficult to discern anything between "25-40"
"IS": A monster
Description: Standing at about 5'6, Kaath appears monstrous and feathered. They wear a greatcoat of a mastercraft design, plates of metal set in and out in a quilted pattern with a belt around the waist to distribute the weight. Underneath sits a bespoke fit of a breastplate over a gambeson. Breeches tuck into plated boots with greaves hanging casually from their thigh. Casual, almost lazy of a donning. Upon the lapel of their coat's collar are three distinct pins of honorific significance. Simple, but profound in each of their design.

Armaments: A sword of radiant magnificence and perfection that stands in stark contrast to its current wielder's motif.
Teraterifficence: Currently displayed is a strength and speed wholly supernatural in demonstration, wielding a greatsword with the tact and speed that one would a shortsword.
Your World: Yet to be elucidated.
Backstory: Kaath's coat has a few pins upon their lapel. One of a crest of galvanized steel, a shield with two spears linked with laurels. One of a serpentine dragon on a plate of presumably silver, kept well polished. One simple dagger with a backdrop of a crescent moon.
Other: Nothing yet.

[User]
As well as it could have. Violet would unconsciously keep petting the Kite as she'd talk with Kaath... or at least she would but it would seem she's not exactly the most talkative type. She'd watch as Kaath would continue to clean and polish her sword. Maybe that sword means a lot to her? I could find out but if I asked she probably wouldn't let me and even if she did, I'm not sure I'd want to look into her past. It's not like Kaath was wasting her time though, something about the polish, the soft lighting, it all just made the blade look all the more beautiful. As she was getting lost in thought, she'd feel something under her hand move with a very familiar sound.
 Violet would slowly lift her hand and her eyes would begin to grow very wide as she'd watch Kite slowly come back to life. K-Kite? She would quickly go and scoop Kite up in a hug but then she'd remember what happened last time. Remembering his injuries, she'd offer and pat on the back and a friendly I'm glad to have you with us again! Looking to Kaath, Well the muffled talk, yeah all the time. This hissing and wheezing is new. Violet would move closer to kite to see if there was anything she could do to help. She'd then watch as Kite removed their mask revealing the adorable face they kept hidden.
 She'd watch Kite try to compose himself and steady his breathing as he looks over everyone. He'd again talk in that language she still couldn't understand. She'd look to him expecting a vision to be coming but instead she'd hear Kaath... speaking? Kaath began approaching Kite with a clear murderous intent and readying her sword. Violet KNEW she couldn't take Kaath in a fight, but she prosimed Kite he'd always be on his side. Besides... she fought a few Nightmares in her world, how bad could this be... She'd stand and place the ball near Kaath in an attepmt to get her to stop for a moment. Kaath what are you doing? Kite isn't our enemy. He's been helping us get out this whole time. There's no need to get violent right now. Please relent. She wasn't expecting much from this and if Kaath wanted, she could probably bat her ball away without any effort, but she had to try something.

[Assistant] [Unnecessary]

[User]
"Swimmingly, as I've heard it put. Better than 'drowningly', I dare say." Walker shrugged, already intent on putting that little team huddle behind him, given that he wasn't keen on someone running around with the knowledge that V had. Then again, he'd agreed to it, so he would have to make that particular little divergence in plan work for him. As much of a plan as he had which was, right now, survive long enough to get a proper read on what was going on, and the more he learned, the less he could accurately pin down properly. All vagueness and oddities, even when straight answers were given, he knew some folk who would thrive on this whole song and dance. Emphasis on the past tense most likely, though a certain Kite reviving suddenly did bring everyone's attention back around. So with the mana being thoroughly burnt out, he was now wondering what had moved into its place? He was no magician or conjurer, but he had trouble naturally believing that someone would come back from beyond the brink like that.

 "Not to my knowledge, V would know more and, given her comment already, well, that's the sound of someone suffocating, slowly. That mask isn't doing any favors anymore." Walker watched Kite closely, the sounds of, and the eventual movements, of struggle to ride themselves of the mask would produce with morbid attention. The draining color was...strange as well, and frankly reminded Walker of some of the Relics that ended up in the trade around Istvargrad, though this one would have been significantly more dangerous by virtue of it having apparently attempted to...adhere to Kite's face. The color situation was also a reminder he was most certainly nowhere even close to familiar territory, though eventually the mask was wrenched clear and seemed to be seeking a face before coming to rest naturally. Right, give that a wide berth, duly noted. Of course things couldn't just stay simple nor easy, given that Kaath decided to look at him, speaking in a tongue he didn't recognize, and began advancing with her sword readied. And of course V took offense to this, attempting to intercede. Great.

 "V, if Kite burnt out completely we can't know how the recovery will look. More importantly, we don't know what they're saying. Kaath, looking to put that sword to use on Kite, or the mask they managed to ditch?" Walker knew a fight with Kaath, even in their current, slightly improved state, but they could possibly figure things out better. Survival wasn't always about doing the right thing, but the right thing to see another day. Still, his muscles tensed and prepared to move as quickly as he could muster if he had to drag Kite out of the way of an attack. He couldn't stop Kaath from making a move, not with a weapon that size, but he could make the target of said attack much harder to strike. He didn't know enough about Kaath's capabilities to guess, and probably wouldn't for some time, but he did feel obliged to at least make an effort on Kite's behalf before leaving them dangling in the wind, as the saying often went. If the mask was the target, or hell, the residue it left, that was another thing entirely.

[Assistant]
Kaath dismissively snorted at Violet's request, though they hesitated as Violet lifted their crystal ball between them. A brief moment of surprise danced on the monster's expression as the weight of their glowing pools of amber shifted from the woman's face, to her...bauble...then back to her. For three breaths, Kaath seems to wait...waiting for Violet to 'throw the first punch' before their surprise cooled to a disappointed contempt; an expression of annoyance that something so small would get between them and their aim.
With a long breath, Kaath heard them out, their eyes even turning to Walker with a brief consideration. Kaath's right hand rested on Violet's shoulder, being left-handed, and she leaned in to share a few intimate words.

"S'one moit be..." she simply said, her tone collected but shaking. So close to the woman, Violet could make out a scent akin to honeysuckle and a faint lavender. Their breath, however, was a...non-voice...Kaath seemed to be speaking through inhaled breaths, likely to give it a shriekingly lighter tone than whatever their true tones were. The proximity seeped a malice into the faux fortune-teller; a trembling of seeming eagerness that radiated out from their physique...until Violet would realize she was involuntarily shaking.

Given how Kaath's voice had sounded, so far...accented, stuttered and masculine.

Kaath weighed the consequences, the arm on Violet's shoulder slipping down to hold them close, hoping to keep the articulations of a mage from blasting a hole through her. Kaath's left eye looking somewhere else as their sword arm extended with a withering screech of the metal sheering through the stone ceiling in a swing over Violet's shoulder.

----

And nothing came. No squelch or slice. Not even the crunch of the massive metal reaching ground.

The sword halted mere millimeters from cleaving Kite's skull. Kite swallowed, sitting and looking up at the sword and then to Violet and Walker with wide eyes.
Kaath, meanwhile, seemed perplexed...but not entirely surprised as they tried a sawing motion, the massive blade rocking in mid air.
With a gasp, Kaath broke from Violet with a step, heaving back the blade and lashing for Violet with a fluid motion that was lost in the dim light, the intention found once Violet would perceive the cool radiance of the metal being close to her cheek, as Kaath had apparently attempted to bisect her with a semi-vertical swing...before the blade halted like before.

"I..." Kaath stammered, taking a few steps back, pulling the sword close and looking from its hilt to the group with wide eyes. "...I...see..." she softly spoke, curiously running a corner of the heel of her right palm to the sword's edge, which ate into her flesh like boiling water into snow...the apparently expected reaction, as Kaath only winced and pulled her hand away and violently shook it, glaring, confusedly, at the group. "Issss not right..." they growled, kicking over the logs in the fire in frustration and pacing another step away while hugging their massive sword. "E'res only evah one 'tha fekkahs! Yer story's shoite!" Kaath bellowed as if to call Violet out, an insulted and hurt inflection to their tone as they then worriedly addressed their sword with the polishing cloth, retrieved from their pocket, to pinch and smooth clean the spot that had sunk into her own flesh.


[System]
BASIC
Goes By (Nicknames): Maleficent (alter-ego); The Winged She-Elf; She-Devil, Devil's Incarnate (by Thorin); Delva, God-Mother (by Fili & Kili).
Royal Titles: Lady of Ambaróna/"Fangorn".
Other Titles: First Commander of Isengard, Sauron's Most-Trusted Servant (as Maleficent); The Watcher; Guardian of Durin's Folk.
Age: 5,739 (Looks 37-38)
Gender: Female
Race: Elven Hybrid (Sindarin and Noldor Bloodlines)
Other Bloodlines: Silvan and Teleri (Through her grandfather's relatives)
20/20 Elvish (10/20 Sindarin, 6/20 Noldor, 2/20 Silvan, 2/20 Teleri)

APPEARANCE
Face Claim: Angelina Jolie
Hair Color: Medium Brown
Eye Color: Yellow-Green (Boldly-luminous when furious/angry)
Skin Tone: Creamy
Height: 5' 8"
Weight: 119 lbs
Body Build: Slim

Finger Claws:

Curved Daggers:

Combat Outfit:

Dresses for Two Towers/Return of the King

Wing-Cloak

PERSONALITY
OVERALL PERSONALITY
Likes: Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, Ents, Happiness, Animals, Peace, Music, Plant-Life, Training, Flying/Sightseeing, Yearly Seasons.
Dislikes: Death, War, Chaos, Greed, Spiders, Maleficent, Orcs, Sorrow.
Strengths: Fighting/Combat, Flight, Knowledge, Wisdom, Harsh Temperature Resistance, Protective/Affectionate Nature, Keen Senses, Agility.
Other Powers: Wallcrawling, Banshee Scream, Enhanced Strength, Telepathy, Telekinesis.
Weaknesses: Stubbornness, Loneliness, Anger, Vindictiveness, Split Personality.
Fears: Sauron, Losing Family.

Elegant | Unpredictable | Capable | Headstrong | Mysterious | Maternal | Observant | Intelligent

Everyone believed Saeril to be born as a creature of chaos and pure evil, but they just do not know the true story. In actuality, Saeril is a good-hearted, nurturing individual, who highly valued the peaceful natures of Middle-Earth, whilst having the passion to support and protect its various realms and inhabitants. Born during the First Age, Saeril is a strong-willed she-elf, and the last of an ancient Elven clan from Fangorn Forest. A very intelligent, loyal-to-the-bone perfectionist, who stays true to her word, she focuses on finding the best intentions for others, to the point of making great judgment calls, as much as willingly risking her life, in the process.

From the despair of her devastating past, following the Deceiver's corruption upon her mind, Saeril is truly hurt and very lonely inside, having to be caused by the guilt and horror of her cruel and malicious deeds, as well as the amount of pain and trauma she had to endure. After being rescued by Gandalf the Grey, she was left "more Orc than Elf", while her other alter-ego "Maleficent", a psychopathic representation of her corruption, still lingers within her mind. However, after Sauron's defeat, this other personality dissipated, giving back her natural Elven beauty.

The ultimate goal was to redeem and dissipate this inner darkness from within, but she never anticipated it to be a challenge when she rekindled herself with her Dwarven godsons Fili and Kili, whilst having to closely bond with a young she-elf named Yavanna, whom she had grown to love and deeply care for, as if she were her own daughter. Determined to protect both the Sons of Durin and the Bright Star of Middle-Earth, Saeril will become extremely aggressive and violent, whenever someone threatens, or has inflicted any sort of harm to them; as this contrasts her more-gentle nature, she will be blunt and gladly let the offenders know the price. In addition, since witnessing the death of Fili, she will go to great lengths, if it means to prevent Kili and Yavanna from falling under the same fate.

Both as "Maleficent" and herself, Saeril is a ruthless, immensely-formidable warrior in her own right; despite withholding a certain elegance, she's truly a very deadly foe for anyone who'd dare challenge her personally. A vast majority of her strength came from the enchantment Sauron had placed upon her, as well as the supernatural connection he was able to forge between them; even while she was formerly his chief of the Isengard legion, she possessed a number of abilities that have allowed her to stand her own, and even overpower the most skilled of individuals. Due to this connection, she's able to enhance these abilities. She also shows herself to have great telepathic power; either taught or naturally inherited from her parents and/or ancestors, she can read the minds of others, conjure up visions through physical touch, and receive thoughts from a certain distance.

Saeril will not hesitate to comfort, guide, or advise others when they seem to need it. Proud, proper, and almost-completely fearless, she will never bow to anyone she disagrees with. Evident by her relationship with Thorin Oakenshield, it's complicated when it comes to terms of the trust; she betrayed him (as he claimed) by "stealing" the starlight jewels from his treasure hoard for King Thranduil. Although she was claimed as not "trusting", Saeril openly showed that she cared a great deal for him, saving his life multiple times on different occasions.

BACKGROUND
Place of Birth: Fangorn Forest (Also known as Ambaróna).
Family:
- Kili Durin (Godson; Alive) (Dwarf)
- Fili Durin (Godson; Deceased) (Dwarf)
- Dis Durin (Co-parent; Alive) (Dwarf)
- Vili Durin (Co-parent; Deceased) (Dwarf)
- Hermia (Mother; Deceased) (Noldor Elf)
- Lysander (Father; Deceased) (Sindarin Elf)
- Ulla (Aunt; Deceased) (Sindarin Elf)
- Kinloch (Uncle; Deceased) (Sindarin Elf)
- Kriva (Grandmother; Deceased) (Noldor Elf)
- Disgla (Grandfather; Deceased) (Silvan/Teleri Elf)
- Fidnai (Great-Grandmother; Deceased) (Teleri Elf)
- Sahov (Great-Grandfather; Deceased) (Silvan Elf)

Other Relations:
- Gandalf the Grey/White (Mentor/Friend; Alive) (Maiar)
- Thorin Oakenshield (Friend; Deceased) (Dwarf)
- Aragorn II Elessar (Friend; Alive) (Man)
- Lord Elrond (Acquaintance; Alive) (Half-Elf)
- Tauriel (Acquaintance; Alive) (Silvan Elf)
- Haldir (Acquaintance; Alive) (Silvan Elf)
- Gimli (Acquaintance; Alive) (Dwarf)
- Thranduil Greenleaf (Acquaintance/Friend; Alive) (Sindarin Elf)
- Legolas Greenleaf (Acquaintance/Friend; Alive) (Sindarin Elf)
- Yavanna Undomiel (Friend/Daughter-Figure; Alive) (Elven Hybrid; Mortal/Sindarin/Noldor)
- Bilbo Baggins, Frodo Baggins, Samwise Gamgee, Peregrine Took, and Meriadoc Brandybuck (Acquaintances/Friends; Alive) (Hobbits)
- Azog the Defiler & Bolg (Enemies; Deceased) (Gundabad Orcs)

[User]
The next early morning, everybody had managed to gain their well-needed rest before setting out on an expedition that could last for weeks, maybe months...or even years. There wasn't exactly any prediction as to when it may end, but all that mattered, was to accomplish the task at hand. The rations were packed, weapons were secure, and everyone was ready to depart at first light. The Fellowship containing thirteen members have bid their farewells, and they were on their way. As promised, Saeril kept her distance from the princess, Kili...and at a distance from everyone else. She was much too ashamed, having to become quite guilty for what happened the previous day. That being said, she trailed behind the entire group, having to be their eyes from the back, aside from Legolas, Tauriel, and Yavanna; the Elf Prince stayed close to the princess, as he had intended.

After crossing through valleys, prairies, and hills, the group decided to rest at a spot near the Misty Mountains.

[Assistant]
In the morning, Yavanna had the locket that belonged to her mother around her neck. She had the servants make her a chain for it the previous evening. Wanting to keep it close to her, on such a journey. She was wearing, a new combat suit. It was silvery-blue. Her bow, arrows and sword from her sister Arwen were on her attired. Aswell as her four daggers, from Lake Town. With everything ready; but perhaps her nerves. It would be a lie to say, that she wasn't nervous. She was...not knowing what to expect from such a journey. Yavanna set off with the Fellowship early that morning.

The previous night; Frodo had been gifted a Mithrel Vest and Bilbo's old sword. 'Sting' Bilbo thought it proper, his nephew have good protection. After all, with old age catching up to Bilbo pretty quickly. He wouldn't be in need of those two things anymore.

It was clear, Kili, Yavanna and Saeril were avoiding each other. Kili stayed near Yavanna. Whom was up near the front of the group, with Tauriel, Legolas and Aragorn.
The journey was quiet, for a while. Until they took a break. Yavanna was sitting near by Legolas and Tauriel. Munching on some Elvish bread and an apple. As they were all resting, and having something to eat. Kili leaned his head back; looking up at the sunny sky. And feeling the warmth of the air on his face. Kili couldn't help but wonder how long this task would take. Weeks? Months? Years? Longer? No one knew. Only time would tell. But he had hopes, that they would succeed...one way or another. They had to. They were a team. 13 in this together.

[User]
Gandalf did recall to the group that they would be able to reach Mordor in a few months, if they continued to pass through the Misty Mountains. But then, Gimli protested and suggested for them to go through the mines of Moria; the very name gave Saeril the chills, as it gave very bad memories of what happened to the earlier lines of Durin's Folk. As much as she silently agreed with Gandalf to take the long way, but then, they had to get the task done, as soon as possible. So, the Grey Wizard agreed, but only when they really need to. For now, they were on a break. Legolas was on the lookout; same with Saeril, sporting her black combat suit, whilst having to not feel hungry (mainly because of her guilt), and having to stand farther away from the group. The Elf Prince took a glance at the princess and his closest friend, who remained by his side, before going to using his Elven senses to find anything out of the ordinary.

Merry and Pippin spent their time sword-training with Boromir and Aragorn, until Saeril spotted something in the distance; something that she knew too well. "Spies! From Saruman!", she announced, pointing to several black spots in the sky, which appeared to be approaching them. Legolas didn't hesitate to spread the word. "Crebain from Dunland!"

[Assistant]
As they were resting; Yavanna and Tauriel were watching the young Hobbits training with Boromir and Aragorn. Which proved to be rather amusing, when they ended up tackling Boromir to the ground, shortly followed by Aragorn whom they tripped up because of his amusement towards the situation. It made Yavanna smile softly, at the merriment of the scene. The young Hobbits were willing to learn. But she couldn't blame them. They had to learn how to defend themselves eventually...especially on a mission like this.

"That's an awfully big cloud." Muttered Kili as he saw the large black thing in the distance. But for a cloud, it seemed to be moving quickly.
"I don't think, that's a cloud. It's moving too quickly." Yavanna said having spotted that aswell from where she was sitting. And surely enough. She was right. Not a cloud. Hearing the words of Legolas and Saeril, after that moment; she had helped urge everyone to hide.

Aragorn had quickly put out the fire, as he ducked into hiding; along with everyone else. Tauriel hid behind some large boulders, canoppied over with some trees, with two of the Hobbits and Kili. Yavanna ducked into the nearest bushes with Legolas. Whilst everyone had a hiding place of their own. Looking up, as they all waited for the spies to pass.


[System]
---

AGE
37

GENDER
Male

NATIONALITY
German American

OCCUPATION
Animal behavior consultant

FIELD OF EXPERTISE
Zoology and Animal Psychology

LANGUAGES SPOKEN
German, English, French

PERSONAL HISTORY
Dirk was born in Germany, but his parents immigrated to America early in his life -the ripe age of four. Dirk's father was a professor of mathematics, and his mother was a statistical analyst. As such, he was raised to a high standard of education, and a strict one at that. Through this nurture and guidance, Dirk found his school years blew by until his junior year of American high school where he found himself a straight-A multilingual student of the International Baccalaureate programme, as well as one of the top athletes on his schools track team.

This academic prowess hit a rough spot during his Junior year of high school. Due to a combination of strict parenting and far too much testosterone in an adolescent body, Dirk felt the need to rebel against anything he could -his parents, the system, 'the man'. It was through this that he met a like-minded spirit by the name of Evan. In his independence, Evan was a regular Ken doll. Perfect in almost every way, and loved by everyone. For some inexplicable reason, Evan took Dirk under his wing, lifting him to the heights of popularity within his school.

It was the influence of Evan that both desolated Dirk's academic success as well as inevitably restoring it to its former glory. One day after what had seemed to both to be a normal day of partying. Upon waking up, Dirk found Evan on a couch just across from him -dead due to an overdose on something that Dirk was almost certain he had taken more of. Taking this as an omen and a blessing (though a rather depressing one at that), Dirk took the opportunity to turn his life around once again.

Though the sentiment was certainly present, the results may have been a bit too delayed to be effective. Soon after, Dirk's father succumbed to a heart attack, most likely stress related say the doctors. It was soon after that his mother died -liver failure after excessive alcohol consumption. The woman had a problem before her husband passed, but the problem was far worse after the passing of her husband it seemed.

This series of unfortunate events sent Dirk into a spiral of depression. On an impulse, Dirk adopted a pet to assuage this pain he felt. Always fascinated in intelligent animals, he adopted a crow. This first crow, appropriately named Poe, became his best friend through thick and thin. Perhaps the only reason he kept going, Poe kept him close companionship. Eventually the friendship between Poe and Dirk grew to include more and more crows that he obtained and trained. His murder of crows became a staple he was known for, among anyone close to him. Some found it strange, some found it endearing.

Tragedy struck on an otherwise ordinary day. Stray wiring, a candle left to burn, a kettle left on the oven. Any of the above would suffice, and Dirk never did find out what caused the fire within his apartment that killed his flock. Surprisingly enough, one survived -Beatrice, first successor to Poe and lifelong companion through and through. However, the loss of his entire murder was crippling to Dirk. To drown his sorrows, he turned to a bastard amalgamation of drugs, alcohol, and academia. It was through this that he actually ended up passing through college, getting a PhD in psychology (both animal and human), and going on to consult for various businesses across the globe. Securing work in zoos, labs, and private businesses, Dirk also worked through hobby after hobby, trying to find some form of fulfillment past his work. Unable to find anything, he spent his life engrossing himself in work, not allowing himself time to face a rather crippling depression.

It was through the advent of the UNKEO that Dirk found his true calling -change the world for the better by helping to take down these massive threats to the world.

[User]
Gordon sat next to the window as the plane lurched beneath him. He watched the clouds pass and tried his best to ignore the babbling behind him. That is, of course, until the Brazilian man stood up to brief them. At last, Gordon thought. He was grateful to finally have some reason for being on this plane — especially as it was headed straight for his homeland.

The pictures made his heart sink. Yet, he couldn't help but stare at them. The grief he felt was swallowed back behind a stoic face. The weapon that hung at his hip suddenly felt heavier than usual, as if it were reminding him, hey, don't forget I'm here by your side.

People offered up potential solutions one by one like a symphony of instruments trying to outdo one another. Gordon took in a long breath, contemplating the options. Above him, in the compartment hold, was a piece of experimental tech jostling around in a black suitcase. It wasn't specifically designed to shoot liquid nitrogen, but it might be able to be recalibrated if given enough time.

"Perhaps," Gordon said, clearing his throat. "We should look into the options given to us by our German friend here. He has a point. Bugs can be quick, and I don't doubt that this thing, whatever it is, will thrash around. That sort of thing makes for a difficult shot no matter how skilled the marksman. However, if we were to make an effort to freeze it and slow it down, we might be able to deliver the toxin in a more precise manner. It's more risky, but more safe…

I might have something we could use, perhaps. It all depends on what this thing looks like when we get there."

[Assistant]
Almost unnoticed towards the back of the passenger cabin, curled up and half-asleep, Chaim Abergil raised his hand. The thin Israeli stood up, brushed some dust from his Fire Service uniform, and spoke in accented English. "I don't know much about military strategy, I was only a private in the IDF," he said without preamble. "I just have a couple things to add." Abergil pointed at Lorenzo. "Getting powerful floodlights will be easy. Any decent-sized fire brigade will have rigs mounted on trucks with their own power supply. We can borrow some from the locals, and if need be we can ask other cities to lend out equipment. If we keep these floodlight trucks fueled and ready we can rush those quickly to the scene of an incident. So there's a quick, cheap, and practical way to put that plan into action."

Chaim waved vaguely in the direction of Dirk and Huan. "These gentlemen suggested poison and liquid nitrogen. Those also sound like good ideas, but I want to note we must take serious precautions if we intend to use either of those weapons, especially in a built-up area. God forbid we have to fight this thing inside city limits, we must first drive it out of town or at the very least to a large open space like a park or railyard before we try to use such weapons." His point made, Chaim said nothing else. He abruptly sat back down in his seat, propped up his feet, and closed his eyes. The plane rocked as it descended, only a few minutes away from landing.

Major Carvalho had been taking notes on a legal pad and nodded, obviously pleased with the brainstorming session. "Alright, so we're going with the theory that it might be some sort of amphibious insect. As far as weapons go we're advancing the ideas of bright lights, liquid nitrogen, and our own Ricin-Sicarius poison cocktail. I think Huan's little mojito recipe has the best chance of killing the thing outright, but as Gordon noted we have to get it to stand still first." He ticked through the items on the list. "We could also try arming a few Irish aircraft somehow, or asking for British assistance. I don't know if that last one would go over so well, no Irish politician would be willing to put British troops on Irish soil. There was some trouble about that last time. But it's still worth suggesting."

Carvalho rocked on his feet, nearly losing his balance as the plane's landing gear bounced off the runway. He chuckled sheepishly as he sat down and buckled himself in for the landing. He adjusted the creases of his fatigues, checked his boots, and finally reached into his bag and extracted his light blue United Nations beret, putting it carefully on his shaven head. He wanted to make a good first impression.

The big plane taxied to a halt on the runway, well away from the main terminal of the Galway airport- their arrival was being kept quiet. The team had to carry their gear down a metal stairway held up to the plane.

Not that no one was there to meet them, though. A handful of people- bureaucrats, Gardai, and soldiers. All of them answered to one man, a tall and aristocratic man in the uniform of a brigadier general. He was turned out smartly for the occasion in dress uniform, with a perfect regulation tie and gleaming Sam Browne belt. Next to the brigadier, Carvalho felt extremely underdressed in his duty fatigues. As if to compensate, he made his salute especially crisp. The general seemed amused by the gesture.

"I'm Brigadier Christopher Mahon. We greatly appreciate you coming out on such short notice." He gestured to some of the enlisted men standing nearby, who eagerly moved forwards and began to assist the team with their gear and luggage. "It's only an hour to sunset, and we expect there to be another attack somewhere along the coast tonight. So please, let's move quickly." Mahon briskly walked towards waiting cars, still talking in a rapid-fire tone. "We've got laboratory and workshop space available for your personnel at the University, and our military headquarters is at Renmore Barracks just outside town. We're sending out land and air patrols from there tonight, so if you'd like to join one of those you'd be more than welcome. We won't have any naval assistance until tomorrow night- most of the fleet is either involved with peacekeeping efforts or keeping cocaine smugglers from getting into Dublin Harbor. Or, if you prefer, we've booked you rooms at the Radisson downtown if you would like to rest." Mahon gestured towards the waiting Army sedans. "Just let the drivers know where you'd like to go."

[User]
As the Boeing edged closer and then started to descend toward the airport, Snow called to the tower, placing her landing request along with the necessary codes to allow her to maneuver toward the meeting position. For a poke of fun, she only announced that they were landing after the plane had it's first jostle of descent, picking up the intercom and speaking into it. "This is the lieutenant, 'cause there ain't no captains on my plane, we are now descending for landing. Please put your seatbelts on and secure all tactical nuclear devices and thermite bombs in their holders."

Once on the ground, the Boeing taxied toward the meeting spot. She made sure not to run anyone over as she parked the aircraft. "Thank you for flying with Knight airlines. Please take all personal belongings with you as you exit the aircraft, I've once forgotten and I assure you it is not fun getting them back." She nabbed her tablet before exiting the aircraft.

Once outside Snow listened to Brigadier Mahon attentively, taking note that he mentioned there were air patrols being sent out, but also that there were rooms booked for them. She was torn between two sides, either going out with the air patrols or sleeping, however she knew where her heart wanted to go. She leaned forward, whispering behind Carvalho's ear, "I'll be joining the air patrols. Call me if you need me." She turned on the spot and started her trot toward the sedans, climbing into one before requesting the driver to head for where the military aircraft were stationed. She had only partially lied to Carvalho, and she wouldn't be surprised if he already knew that she wasn't going to just be joining the air patrols, but she would most likely nab a helicopter and fly around on her own, on her own patrol routes. Rank had it's privileges.

[Assistant]
Dirk grimaced slightly as the plane shuddered to a descent. As the pilot spoke, Dirk took care to not roll his eyes. Never a fan of the joker type, Dirk preferred to keep the company of more serious companions. Always sounded like they were trying too hard. As he dismounted the plane, he gathered his belongings -most of which fit within his messenger bag, his only exterior luggage was under a cover towards the back of the plane. Dirk reached up to pull off the cover from the shiny metal container, and a wide smile spread across his face. Beneath the musty cover was a shiny sterling sliver cage, from within which a soft rustling could be heard.

Dirk pulled a leather armguard from within his messenger bag, and strapped it onto his right arm, over his suit jacket. His smile faded slightly as he crumpled the fine material of his suit, but the feeling passed quickly as he opened up the cage. Dirk held his arm far out to the side, and let the iridescent door swing free. From within, a flurry of black feathers writhed, scrambling for purchase anywhere. Wings flapping excitedly, the crow finally settled on the arm of Dirk, head flicking from side to side as it took in the environment. He turned to exit the plane with the bird on his arm, as he softly hummed a short tune of four notes.

He nodded briefly as he listened to Christopher Mahon, thinking through his options. "I think, perhaps, that my skills would be best put to use in one of the patrols. I believe Beatrice would be more agreeable to one of the land patrols, if that could be arranged?" Dirk said, nodding to his bird as he stepped off to the side. "I don't believe I would be of much use in a lab, unless one of you needs use of my biological or psychological expertise?" He added, leaving the question rhetorical and open ended. He had the feeling that none of them would take him up on the offer, but he left it open for them to decide. He took a brief look around to the others, taking note of the pilots decision to join the air patrols.

Dirk took long strides as he walked over to one of the sedans, back straight with eighteen years of having posture drilled into his head. His arm was held high up to his chest, almost like a cartoon mockery of a butler simply with a crow replacing the stereotypical cloth. All the while, Beatrice stood at attention, infrequently shifting her feathers or taking darting glances around at the scenery. Beady black eyes focused on whatever shiny objects nearby she could see, but quickly diverted. Dirk paused just next to the sedan, turning his head in case any of the others requested his assistance. Otherwise, he would simply go to the Renmore Barracks to join one of the patrols.


[System]
Age: 80 (help me with this?)

Gender: Female

Race: Watumaji

Physical Description: Achi is heavily curved, with dark brown skin, topaz eyes, and short white hair. Her skin is extremely smooth, cool to the touch and slightly wet at all times. She has fingers that are half webbed. Instead of legs, she has a long tailfin. It starts the shade of her skin, but shifts to a brilliant orange-gold. Like most of her race who traverse the galaxy, she wears a sheer bodysuit that covers her from the waist up to the neck and arms. It is made of a material designed to draw moisture from the environment and stay damp to protect the Watumaji's skin. Over that, Achi usually chooses to wear a tunic from her home planet, one that is brightly colored and patterned, as well as jewelry that seems to be made of coral and bone.

From the waist down, she is settled in a water tank that is about the size of a personal scooter. The tank rolls smoothly on two treads, and Achi maneuvers it with a small control panel.

Personality: Achieng is gentle-hearted and caring, and at first glance would seem an odd choice for the military. However, she has an acceptance of all sorts of beings, human, chimera, android and otherwise, and her position as a soldier's counselor makes sense to those who go to see her. She can hear terrible things, stories of war and blood, pain and grief, and take them in without judgement or reproach. She listens, and she comforts, and only offers advice when it is asked of her; sometimes people simply want to be heard, not corrected.

Outside of her role on the ship, she is friendly to others and usually quiet. The only time she would show any fierceness is if she was in personal danger, or someone was harming another person in front of her.

Enhancements: None

Skills:
Diplomat- Achieng is an excellent speaker and can smooth talk with the best of them. If there was a mission that involved making peace instead of war, she would be a good candidate to take along.

Swimming- While she is inhibited by her tank on land, in an aquatic environment, she is far more at home. Achi is a swift and graceful swimmer.

Vocals- Like all of her people, Achieng can speak, but can also sing in what her race calls wimbo-kusema. The closest comparison would be whalesong, but a Watumaji's is much more powerful and loud. Some of the tones range below what many beings can detect, and some range far above. Achieng has a natural talent for it, and can be extremely loud to the point of causing damage if she had to be.

Equipment:

Water suit- Absorbs moisture from the environment to keep her skin wet and cool.

Travel tank- Contains space for her to rest, and water for her to rest in while she's on land. Moves on two treads and has a small hand control.

Vocal mask- Achieng has a tech mask that fits over her mouth that can be used to direct her already powerful singing into something that could be weapons-grade lethal.

Fishing knife- While she can only do so underwater, Achi is well trained in the use of a knife made to hunt fish. She calls it a knife, but it's half the length of her arm and hooked at the end.

(Like that, but longer.)

Bio: Achieng traveled with her parents around the planet, her mother being a singer that would visit great cities and small towns alike. Her mother's voice was said to be heard even by those whose souls had joined the Sea, and so she was requested at many dignitaries funerals. Unfortunately, Achi's mother became ill and never recovered. She died when Achi was still a child. Her distraught father took her to the home of her aunt, promising to return for her soon. He never did.

Young Achi grew up isolated. She was shunned by the townspeople, and shamed by her aunt. Her aunt considered her a freeloader, and her own past jealous of Achi's successful and well-loved mother came out on Achi herself. Her uncle did nothing to stop his wife's poor treatment of their niece. Achi's only solace was in her cousin, who ignored his mother's opinions and treated her as a sister. The two grew up close, and he was Achi's savior.

Unfortunately, her aunt was not much kinder to her own son, and as soon as her cousin became of age, he pledged (married) to someone and moved far away from home. While he did offer to take Achi with him, she declined. Left on her own, Achi honed her singing in secret, growing more controlled and powerful by the turn of each tide. She also did everything she could to earn money, trading, bartering, and singing for pay.
The day came when she too, became of age, and she wasted no time in gathering her meager possessions and leaving. After bartering for passage on an off-planet ship, she made her way through schooling and was soon assigned to a military vessel.

[User]
Adi took a moment to glance to the intercom as it was announced that interstellar travel would begin in approximately five minutes. The android knew the effects of almost every type of travel, though actually experiencing them was another matter. Although the emotion software was offline, Adi was built to notably understand organic natural reaction to things like travel. If calculations were correct, just about everyone was going to feel something. More or less, nauseous, in which can create the action of vomiting. A aspect that was replicatible if Adi was given organic solid investable matter but was not a likely act that the organics would really want replicated.

When the jump happened, the android didn't move but the blank blue eyes narrowed a little as their vision seemed to be warped. Their right eye twitched a little before both optical receptors closed to take a moment to adjust systems. Indeed... Actually experiencing something was different from just being programmed with knowledge.

As expected as the android examined the room, just about every organic wasn't feeling so well. Doctor Sel quickly offering support. Unstrapping itself, the android stood and took something out of their pocket. It looked like a blue pill, but when clicking the top of it the pill soon expanded and grew, morphing into a large plastic blue bag with a circled solid entrance. A device made for releasing stomachal fluids from their mouth.

"Please use the proper equipment when feeling ill. Too avoid a further mess and the organic reaction of being ill as well when seeing vomiting fluids." Adi spoke as one crew member quickly grabbed it from his hands and promptly threw up in it.

[Assistant]
Sitting in the lower decks, having arrived earlier, Jack mulled over a few documents that R3V had sent him about the mission. Missing colonies, no survivors, investigate, don't die. The usual. It all seemed a bit underwhelming to him and apparently him alone considering that the ship he was sitting in the lower decks of was about five minutes from jumping while in tow of a damn carrier. He shook his head and closed the wrist-based hologram projector and reclined in the seat he had fashioned for himself. He preferred it on the engineering decks of the larger ships. It was away from the people for the most part and he felt safer. He didn't enjoy riding in these oversized gun platforms. Hated it when he was in the military, hated it now. Too much can go wrong too fast and too many lives were at stake.

He just about fell out of the seat when the Jump happened, forgetting to actually prepare himself like a normal person would. He righted himself and could already feel his bowels trying to right themselves as well. For once, he was thankful that his armor could help with that. He reached down to check his equipment and make sure they made the start of the jump alright. He already knew that they were basically unaffected by the jump, but he still made sure. Faulty equipment was a death sentence.

After making sure everything was checked and not broken, he slung his rifle over his shoulder, made sure the safety was on, and clicked on the magnetic safety on his suit, turning a small light green on his shoulder. He did this just so those with hatred for bounty hunters would be put at ease a little, knowing that he couldn't actually draw his weapons at all. "Might as well head to the top deck and see how things are going...." He said to nobody in particular. He started the trek up the decks and to the main deck, greeting a few people along the way. He dared not take his helmet off. Not many people enjoy talking to somebody with a face that looks like he put it into an active rocket engine.

Stepping into the main room of the bridge, he took a place next to the door and leaned against the wall. At this point he could only wait for things to happen as he was not assigned any position in the ship. Least not yet. He could fake it and say he was a patrolman, but he decided against it.

He did happen to make sure that his credentials were in order before somebody flipped out on him, however. He was going to avoid a night in a brig at all costs.

[User]
Achieng came to after several minutes, groaning and clutching her head as she resurfaced into the sharp, cold air of the ship. She hid her face, embarrassed, as she straightened her tunic and wrung the excess water from her hair. She pulled up a map of the ship, and hustled her tank right down to the med bay.

"Ah, Doctor?" She wasn't sure of everyone's names just yet. "I would appreciate your help." Her head was still spinning, and she did not like the sensation of constant movement at all.

[Assistant] Sel got her tools ready once again back at the lab, after all she expected at least a few people to come complaining that they were sick, and as it turned out she was right on the money as one of the crew came on through into the lab. "Welcome, please, take a seat and tell me what is the matter." Head chest or stomach normally had different treatments, much better than just stuffing people full of pills like most auto-docs that she had seen on the streets. Removing her helmet she waited for a answer to her question.

[User]
It was obvious that there were hardly any former military officers on board aside from Rayland himself and a few other individuals whom operated on Jump Drive rigged vessels before and thus were seemingly immune to the influential psychological effects of warping through space and time instantly that impacted the body. Of course the potency of the effects and how long they would last was completely up to the individual whom perceived the visual experience of being stretched several hundred light years across the galaxy; clearly there were already a few people had recovered completely and began to go about their business as normal. The others however clearly needed more time, especially those whom never even traveled through slipspace before while awake. Luckily for them Sel had voiced over the comms that she would readily help treat anyone feeling ill.

Rayland examined the operational report on his terminal and begun looking over the recent events. All three carriers and their respective task groups had initiated a interstellar jump all at once in same area of space. Falymar Station had since closed down slipspace travel in that particular region due to the gravitational influx created by the mass jump and had begun sending pings to inbound vessels to relocate their exit vectors in unaffected space until the disruptions had settled. Though the entire expeditionary force had jumped as one unit, each carrier group had dispersed into different routes towards their intended target systems, travelling though slipspace to ease their approach. The reported detailed an ETA of roughly 3 hours until the force reaches its destination; right on schedule.

Figuring that crew would need to be briefed on the operation eventually, he routed the mission data from the meeting from earlier to the ship Briefing room; a central facility of the Infamous Alto that had remained inaccessible for quite awhile, only seeing legitimate use during important conferences and new crew orientations. The latter seemed necessary, it was only a temporary post; basically the same job the Alto signed on to. Rayland anticipated that if the mission went well, he and his crew would be handsomely and everyone whom joined up on this operation would be on their merry way. Assuming of course if they don't get shot up or become a grotesque space whale's lunch.

Rayland rose from his seat unfazed from jump and stretched his limb before making his way off the bridge. "Towan, watch the bridge for me. I'm going to go ahead and do my rounds, make sure everyone is feeling okay...Oh and get everyone organized for a mandatory meeting in the Briefing room in thirty."

"Understood Captain Rayland Sul'tari, assuming temporary post." replied Towan as Rayland made his way off the bridge. "All crewman; a mandatory meeting concerning the current operation in-progress has been scheduled in the Briefing room in thirty minutes. Guide lights for the Briefing room have been lit for new members for their convenience."

Just before Rayland could approach and exit through the bridge doors, his eyes caught an unfamiliar face…which was oddly concealed by large plated helmet…Which was additionally odd to wear in doors, along with underslung rifle. Since he did not recognize this individual, he naturally assumed they had came in along with the rest of the new personnel. Ultimately since he only had a crew manifest with names without an associable portrait, he changed his vector and approached the man instead, activating the holo-tool on his wrist so he could identify who this masked and armed fellow was.

"Greetings and salutations good sir. I assume you're one of the newcomers I take it?" Rayland didn't wait for an answer just as the crew manifest loaded on the wrist projector. "And you are…?"

[Assistant]
Jack looked at the man that was fast approaching him and was already sizing him up. Guy looked like he had been through literal storms of bullets and came out with more than a few scratches. Big, gruff, and tough. He seemed like he was, or at least used to be, the pride of the AISC. Considering the quality of the ship he was in, the guy had earned everything that he owned and more. There was a sense of pride in his step, of power, strength...maybe even cunning considering the look in his eye. He had a dominating look about him, as should be standard for a captain of a ship commanding so many individuals. He stopped and spoke to him, his voice was gruff but matched his analysis of him perfectly. He nearly swung his hand into the captain's and gripped it firm. As was customary, he tried to break the captain's hand with the handshake in a show of strength and valor. The captain did not disappoint him.

"Jack Harquin. A pleasure, Captain Sul'tari. I have been assigned to this mission, yes. Unlike many of the other members of your rather luxurious vessel, I have not been given a position in the maintenance of her, so I figured I would take up guard duty for the moment until we reach the destination."

He let go of the Captain's hand and crossed his arms for but a moment before he pointed a thumb at his weapons. "Oh, and don't worry. They're mag locked."


[System]
Real life:
Age: 16
Appearance:

Birthday: 16 September
Personality: The best way to describe it would be quietly willful. He wants to do what he wants, when he wants how he wants to do it but he won't complain about anything unless it's something he doesn't like.
Bio: He's been playing for a very long time. Once he used to spend all the time he could, clocking thousands of hours in the game, but now that he's hit the roof, he's basically just screwing around. Although he spends almost all his time in the game, he has an amazing ability to cram last minute and he still gets average grades. They've been on the rise recently as he's stopped playing so much and his parents are happy that he spends more time out of the game than before.

In Game
Avatar Name: Datze
Avatar Title: Dragon God
Appearance: Similar to his real life appearance, but he looks about 5 years older and he has red hair. His wears red plate gauntlets and plate greaves made out of dragon scales and he also wears a face mask that covers his mouth. The mask looks like a dragon baring it's teeth.
Class: Ascended Dragon

Signature Move/s:

Overflowing Terror: Datze radiates an aura of terror several times more intense than even the terror of a boss-level Dragon's roar. The aura will affect anyone near or lower than his level and gives varying effects depending on the enemy's strength. Enemies slightly below the user's strength will have some large stat penalties while enemies far beneath the user's level could potentially faint from the pressure. Even beings normally not affected by fear such as golems and constructs will be affected by Overflowing terror.

Almighty Dragon Rage:
When Almighty Dragon Rage is active, debuffs from sources that are lower level than the user will not work. The user will also gain an aura which gives them extra damage and defence depending on the amount of enemies in range and the amount of hits taken; and the user will temporarily gain infinite stamina. Almighty Dragon Rage can also be expended to super-charge a Dragon Breath.

Secret Skills(But not all his skills): Dragon Heart, Dragon Bomb, Dragon Call, Descent of the Dragon God

Avatar Bio: This avatar is regarded by all of the players as undeniably one of the strongest avatars in the game. The class itself is considered legendary in lore, and the preceding classes are considered some of the hardest to advance.

Ascended Dragon is the final form of the secret Dragon class, a class in which a user over time slowly gains the stats of an actual dragon. However, very, very few people have ever managed to convert to the class, as even the first challenge is considered impossible. Fight and kill a dragon at peak condition by yourself. No help is allowed, and the fight must take place on a flat plain.

Those that managed it found it to be the least of the challenges, each challenge afterwards could only increase in difficulty. When the world deemed it impossible to advance to the final stage, one user was seen, standing upon a mountain of dragon corpses. As they watched, a huge white dragon descended from the heavens, and the two proceeded to fight. The brilliant flashes of light stopped anyone from clearly seeing the battle, but all of a sudden the light faded. He flew through the air, some kind of aura blazing brilliantly as he tore out the White Dragon's heart with his bare hands.

A little later, he came to bear the title 'Dragon God'. But what doe the title 'Dragon God' really mean?
"To be recognized by each and every Dragon as the Almighty." - Road of the Dragon God, an article on the legend.

[User]
Before the Night's Conquest of Caevum, there had once been a luxurious reception room in the monarch's castle where the king invited dignitaries to converse to them on a more personal level than what the throne room offered. It was a beautiful room, plastered with the finest decorations money could afford with a large, spacious balcony that allowed a view overlooking the city. No doubt it was to demonstrate the splendor of Caevum.

However, since Nacht took the castle for his own purpose, he converted the room from its original goal of diplomacy to that of war. No longer was there majestic paintings or marbles of world-renowned artists and fabrics of the most beautiful silk and cloth. Instead he commissioned for a long table with the map of the known world carved onto its surface. It sat in the center of the room. At the head of the table was a throne for him to sit upon facing the city of Caevum below his castle, raised only slightly to subtly show that he was above everything like a judging deity.

It was in this very room where he gathered his subordinates and discussed war.

A majority of his subordinates currently in the room with him were non-playable characters. Though they were only artificial intelligence, they had been with him since he began playing. Nacht valued their loyalty and they were much smarter than most players would think. They had a keen mind for military matters. From experience, a majority of player characters were just awful when it came to planning and strategy. If anything, they were more like brutes who wanted to use force to get things done. He didn't need those kind of people in high positions.

"We've recently inducted some new recruits into our ranks," said Connor, formerly a spearman in his original army until they expanded. He was a veteran despite his seemingly young appearance. "They're plenty strong, but they're making a ruckus about their positions. They think just because they're powerful that it means they can just move up the ranks rather quickly."

Nacht smiled, an action hidden by his helm. There were many high-leveled players joining him because they wanted to loot and pillage. They had the gall to demand higher positions. Many didn't deserve it.

Before he could speak, a player in the meeting spoke up, "They just want a bit of action. We've been having trouble with Seathia lately, right? Just send them over to burn the farmland that surrounds the city. We can try to starve out the population there."

Connor frowned. "True. Various guilds use Seathia as their base of operations, making efforts to capture it ineffective because of the strength of those adventurers. Starving them would have the leadership of the city surrender to us eventually."

"You," Nacht said, glancing over to the player that made the suggestion. "What's your name?"

The player, a woman he noted, turned to him. Her eyes were dulled by a bit of a fear. He had that effect on people. In a voice fraught with shaking, she said, "M-My name is L-l-lucretia. Y-you promoted me a w-w-week ago."

Nacht nodded. He remembered now. She was one of the few players that understood the importance of subtlety. "It's good that I've made the right decision. Lucretia, Connor, I'm placing both of you in charge of capturing Seathia. I give you both command of the third and fifth army. Do not fail me. For now, this meeting is over. You're all dismissed."

Connor nodded solemnly, a contrast to the beaming Lucretia. The two paired up together to discuss plans for the upcoming invasion. It was good to see people that treated the NPCs like they were people. Nacht did the same, but he would never go as far as seeing them as real. They were disposable, but he understood it was easier to have their loyalty by treating them well.

As the last of his subordinates left the war room, Nacht began checking any messages he received during the meeting. Many were threats against his life, but they were easily ignored. He blocked them to ensure that they never send another message to him again. They were pests.

Nacht read over the message he received from the "Dragon God" and snorted. Sometimes the man didn't realize how so many things went into conquering a city. Logistics, subterfuge, diplomacy, etc. They were all necessary. Nevertheless, his interest was piqued. Knowing Datze, his "quest" could very well be a party and this was his way of inviting him.

"It's not like I'm busy," Nacht muttered to himself. There was no harm in seeing what Datze wanted.

Without even standing up from his throne, Nacht began teleporting to his friend's castle.

It was only a moment later that he stood in front of Datze's castle. It was a quaint thing, but it did its job to intimidate any would-be heroes that faced his friend. Nacht summoned five knight NPCs to use as his entourage. If he timed his teleportation correctly, he would be fashionably late to whatever Datze wanted him for.

Nacht and his knights marched inside the castle, sweeping in with dramatic flair as he allowed his cape to flutter behind him. His five knights guarded him, two on each side and one in the back, equipped with extravagant, black armor.

"I am the Night's Emperor, Lord of Caevum, War Lord of the Continent and the World's Future Ruler. I am Nacht!" He shouted with pride. "Dragon God, you've summoned the Great Conqueror. Pray that you do not waste my time!"

[Assistant]
Quest 1 - The Monster Cafe

"Good, you're all here." Kosuke said, standing up and dusting himself off. Food-kun had said he wasn't coming in the usual manner, Katherine had brought some dolls which he hadn't thought was necessary and Nacht brought some soldiers, presumably to make a grand entrance. There were about five dragons perching on the towers behind him, visibly amused at his bravado, but Kosuke was most certainly not going to tell him that.

"May as well tell you all now, if you guys were looking for combat then you'll be disappointed." He said, although he'd already assumed that everyone else had assumed that he knew combat quests were way too easy for all of them and that this quest was probably something else. "I wasn't really sure if I actually needed you guys, but it's always funner doing quests with friends."

He pulled up the quest interface and pressed a few buttons. A few seconds later, a message popped up for the rest of the group.

"So, what do you guys think?" He asked them. "And Nacht, drop that damn act already!"

[User]
"A cafe where monsters go to get their coffee before being slain by people? That sounds like a nice place to go to... unless it vanishes again. I brought some stuff for combating things just in case, but guess I didn't need them. Not that I wanted to combat stuff, since that's boring now." Ao calmly said, looking at the Dragon God. She then looks around, seeing familiar faces. There were many males, but females like Ao can be seen, too. Ao then looked at the place where the door should be, and snapped a finger. Suddenly, a new door made of stone appeared where the door should be, displacing the rubble of the old door. She realizes she didn't create anything but pillars of varying types and sizes in awhile, since she usually denies the requests from people to make new things for them, believing that buying the required object from someone helps the economy and having people improve their skills to make the object would encourage them to not rely on people, the latter hopefully reducing the amount of message she gets. Although she has set her message system to not notify her of messages that aren't from her friends, the messages still catches her eyes when looking through the messages to find old messages.
Ao then shifted through the menus, trying to equip her light armor since her dress would reduce her mobility because of it's size, while the light armor doesn't. "Hmm... Let's deny the requests, block the perverts and check the gifts from my friends, if any before the quest begins." She thought, shifting through menus, swiftly typing out a message.

[Assistant]
"Monster Cafe"? Katherine muttered. "Why not a Monster Girl Cafe? It'd be cute, and not so intimidating. Not that we can't take care of whatever we find anyhow." Now she was just curious about what a Monster Cafe would be like to serve coffee. "This might be difficult in it's own way, since it's not combat. Great idea Dragon Guy." She didn't want to egg Datze on too much. She knew she couldn't handle most of the people in this room very well in a one on one.

Think again about what he said in his message she spoke about it, "Well, I guess I can see why you said bring Polymorph Potions." after which she looked in her inventory and frowned about two she had. Not probably enough for how many people there were here. "Did we need more? I could easily go and get some more." Her methods were not exactly the nicest though. It was a pretty well known fact really. Usually tricking people out of their items if she didn't feel nice enough to just buy them.


[System]
Gender: Male
Age: 23
Appearance: A young man with brown/blonde hair and blue eyes, Andrew stands at 6.4 feet tall with wide shoulders and with a surprising amount of upper body strength despite his lean form.

Rank: Private First Class
Class: Lancer

Weapons and Equipment:
Lancaar M1
Ragnaid
Uniform
Blast Shield

Personality: Generally rather quiet, many people seem to assume that Andrew is dumb due to the fact that he tended to get low scores in school or that he tends to take on jobs that require physical labor. Anyone who has ever talked to him on a subject that he enjoys will quickly discover that he is actually rather intelligent, but he can't stand the education system.

While undergoing military training, the trainers discovered that Andrew was a rather empathic person to the point where it effected his ability to work with guns; Whenever the targets were humanoid in nature, Andrew wouldn't be able to shut off the part of his brain that said something along the lines that he was about to end the life of a human being. This hesitation and inaccuracy vanished whenever Andrew was training to be a lancer against a tank however; While he knew that tanks tended to have crews, since he couldn't see them he could focus on the armored machine of death that needed to be taken out.

Andrew is rare for the fact that he isn't racist. He honestly doesn't see the point in hating someone for how they were born since they didn't choose to be born that way; What he does hate however are the self entitled, arrogant, self serving assholes that seem to make up most of the noble class.

Bio: Andrew was born the youngest and only male child in the family with three elder sisters. Somewhat spoiled due to being the youngest in the family, Andrew had what is considered a wonderful childhood with a loving family and whenever he met anyone who didn't have such a thing he couldn't help but appreciated what he was so fortunate enough to have.

Andrew's school years had their share of good and bad teachers, but he never did seem to raise to high grade wise. Despite the best efforts of the more perspective of his teachers Andrew never really found himself invested in his school work and at times failed to see the point of some of the things they were trying to teach.

One of the major highlights of his school days was during a history class when the subject of the Darcsen and Valkyria war came up. The history teacher was a devote Yggdist and tried sell the idea of the Valkria's divine nature and how lucky the Darcsen's were that the Valkria were so pure of spirit to only punish them instead of wiping them out for the imperfect creatures that they were. Andrew openly argued against this, making the point that the so called 'facts' that his teacher was talking about was all written by the Valkria themselves and thus they were unreliable due to the nature of those who win wars writing history so that they would appear to be the good guys and those they fought against were monsters.

The argument that followed lasted for a while and Andrew was given detention for 'disrupting the classroom', but his classmates had watched as Andrew kept a cool head and made his arguments based on the facts of human physiology and other historical incidents in which history was rewritten where as their teachers arguments devolved into bullheaded religious zealotry that abandoned the need for facts. While it didn't sway everyone in the classroom, it did cause enough of them to question what they were being taught that Andrew considered it a win.

After school, Andrew tended to take on jobs that didn't require a higher education and tended to be more physical in nature until the call for solders rose up to defend their lands against the Empire. Andrew gladly signed up because he would rather get put into a proper squad rather then one made up completely of conscripts.

RP Sample:
Taking a moment to glance at a nearby clock and noticing that it was ten in the morning on a Thursday, Andrew tried to ponder where he would have been if he wasn't currently standing in a recruitment line for a war that his homeland hadn't wanted to be apart of with a grim resolve. He normally stopped by one of the village clothing shops in order to help them unpack and put out new stock on Thursday; Not the most challenging of jobs but time consuming and strangely fulfilling in its own way.

As time passed and the line grew shorter, Andrew took a deep breath as it was finally his turn to stand in front of the recruitment officer. "Name?"

"Andrew Macdonald."

[User]
As the APC came to a stop, Andrew didn't seem to react in an overly major way. While others jumped over the sides or scrambled to get weapons ready or even just kept a look out for hostiles, he placed his Lance on his shoulder and seemed to relax a little bit as he waited. His logic on the matter was that until someone shouted 'Tank!' or 'Lancer!' all jumping out of the APC would do was make him a target.

When the scouting party returned plus one, PFC Macdonald listened in silence until the matter of what to do with the new girl came up. Her suggestion to go with the scouting team to recover her lance finally caused him to speak. "Sergent, if I may we should disarm and tie this girl up and keep her under watch until we can get in contact with the powers that be and confirm that she is who she claims she is. For all we know she's an imperial spy that will murder our scouts once they are far enough away and lead us into an ambush... at the very least she could report to the Imperial forces that we are in the area."

[Assistant]
James listened to the MacDonald, mulling over what he'd said in his head. He'd already considered the possibility of her being an Imp saboteur who would sell them out the first chance she got, but had decided against it for two reasons; the first was that sword, it was foreign enough that he doubted they could get one easily. The second was in all the stories he'd been told about and all the videos he'd watched, the saboteur was packing standard issue Gallian weapons. So rather than risk them tying up one of their own, he spoke up. He did agree with her not going though, last thing a pair of scouts needed was a Lancer playing tag-a-long. "This doesn't feel like an Imperial set up. I mean, for starters that sword is too foreign. No way they'd get that easily and then field it to fool a bunch of Gallians that may or may not be coming. Then there's the fact that if she was a set up and this an ambush, they're waitin' an awfully long time to spring it."

James shrugs and rests his rifle against his shoulder, barrel pointing up. "Not to mention we don't know the other Squads' orders. But, I do agree with not takin' her along. Scouts move faster in pairs. Besides, what Imperial would take a piece of Gallian equipment when they're positive their stuff is better? We can get the lance, we just need the all clear to get going."

[User]
Fina kept fidgetting all the way inside the APC, her own weapon rattling muffled by the APC's engine. She had shrivelled to the max, obviously hesitant and wary of the others inside the cramped space. She could start hyperventilating at any given moment, she never liked people this awfully close. And then, two things happened. Sergeant Harald spoke, inquiring about what they thought. Fina felt conflicted. On one way, she couldn't bring herself to break from her shell with so many people, on the other the sergeant was a nice person. At least at face value.

"I-I'll dodododo...my best." was Fina's sudden yet hushed and barely noticeable answer."Looks preprepretty hard. Peopeopeople might die today." She said, clutching her weapon.

And then gunfire shots were heard, following by a small commotion. Fina gripped her weapon tightly, her eyes gazing at the people who had jumped out of the APC without a second thought and then to a certain newcomer. With a rather uncoventional getup as well. And then some of the other people were dismissing her as an imperial spy. While others wanted to get the lance this girl claimed she had lost.

She slapped herself hard, trying to get a grip. "Are we re-really sure? We couldcould re-really use another lance bebecause of the tatanks. But we couldcould lose two scouts, too." Fina added, eyeing the over eager Hunt. "I'm sosorry, but it had to be sa-said."

[Assistant]
Sergeant Harald, Gallian Militia

The Sergeant couldn't help but lean back slightly as MacDonald gave his spiel, caught off guard by the speech. It wasn't as though he disagreed with tub-thumping patriotism per se, but... Harald's main goal was survival for himself and the troops under his command; if he managed to help win the war in the process, then great, but if not... well, there were always openings for skilled hands in the Europan far north, where Darscens were more tolerated. He kept his peace though, not wanting to appear unpatriotic. A few of the others spoke their mind too, perhaps a sign that the training had broken some of the ice in Squad 4. Harald nodded confidently and was about to answer when a shot rang out in the nearby woods; Bons, now driving the APC at a decent clip, threw the brakes on in panic. There was a complicated moment involving the back door swinging open, the Sergeant loosing his footing to spill out onto the dirt road and the butt of a rifle landing in a sensitive spot between his legs. Harald's vision whitened for an instant and by the time he dragged himself upright, Hunt and Sykora had vanished. 'Fuck, shit, cunt...' He swore vehemently under his breathe but pulled himself together in time to get some orders yelled. 'Everybody out! Secure the perimetre, move it!' As the squad milled about in confusion, the two errant soldiers returned... with a prisoner?

Maybe it was the sudden stop or maybe the aching pain in his two veg, but Harald was mightily pissed off when Hunt reported in. 'Very fucking well Private, but the next time you run off on your own, I'll fucking 'ave y-'. He caught himself, a little late. '... There will be consequences. It could have been a trap for Valk's sake, you could have run into a firing squad. Or worse, gotten captured and then the squad, the Regiment, the whole damn operation would be compromised!' Harald again caught himself, realising how pointlessly angry he was getting. 'Just... just don't do it again. Wait for backup and orders next time, both of you.' He gave Sykora a meaningful glare to reinforce the point. 'Now then... Squad 11, right?' He looked the girl up and down, eyes lingering on the sword at her hip. Why did everyone seem seem to have a damn sword nowadays? He had worked hard to ignore the elephant in the room, but Kyo's sword (if it could even be called that; the damn thing was a piece of sharpened sheet metal) had already been an unneeded complication in the squad's line up. He felt a glimmer of pity for Squad 11's former commander, wondering if they too had felt his pain. Regardless, there were more important issues at hand. 'In summary, we lost a squad to ambush in these woods?' He nodded back to where they had came, his brow furrowing. 'Private Durandal, yes? Did you have a chance to collect dogtags? Any details on the forces that attacked you? Can you remember where?' His blood was still up from the anger, but a certain coldly professional part of him reminded Harald of his obligations. Their mission was to secure a route to Vasel and a route with Imperial patrols setting up ambushes was by no means secure. He turned to the others as Durandal got her story straight and growled, 'Get kitted up, weapons and ammunition only. Lancers and drivers will secure the APC; the rest of us have a patrol to kill.'

[User]
Private Durandal
Their skepticism regarding her was understandable, but the one that wanted to tie her up was rather... frightening. As if she hadn't already been through enough with the destruction of her squad, now he wanted to tie her up and treat her like a P.O.W? She held her tongue, however. Now wasn't the time to get into an argument.

Regan stood a little straighter as the commanding officer spoke to her. "Yes sir, Private Durandal. I... wasn't able to obtain any dogtags, sir. The force that attacked us was infantry only, I saw no armor. They hid behind a ridge and they must have had spotters somewhere, because they opened with a number of grenades, lobbed over from their hidden position. In the confusion, they rushed us. I tried to retaliate, but it happened too fast, my squad was wiped out and I had no choice. I-..." Her voice caught in her throat and she took a shakey breath. "I need to... sit down..." Her posture falters and she salutes Harold before she dismisses herself. She moves to the back of the APC and has herself a seat in the open back.

[Assistant]
PFC James Hunt|Road in the middle of nowhere

James did what he did when Captain Riserre started yelling at him when the Sergeant started; he tuned it out. Some back in his old unit would argue that's why he was always getting in trouble, but the truth of the matter was the Cap just couldn't take a joke. When it was said and done, with the order being given to kit up, James looked at the Sergeant again. "Hey Sarge, thought you'd like to know that she," he jerked his thumb towards Durandal, "downed two imps with her sword and I gunned down the third when I found her. So they're already down three people. That said, how big do you think the patrol is?"

For all his smart ass remarks, he also knew what questions to ask and when to ask them. Plus the fact of the matter was even the regular army had varying patrol sizes on record, so he thought he'd get a second opinion before making his own guess.