[System]
Rank (If applicable): Commander

Species: Sangheili

Appearance (for his armor, at least):
Height: 7'10"

Skills:Vael bears the title of a blademaster, and with good reason. He also has general combat experience befitting his many years of experience, and has a long history of leadership.

Preferred Weapons/Equipment:
* Type-1 energy sword
* Type-25 plasma rifle
* Type-57 carbine
* Active Camouflage

Background: Vael 'Virisusai is an old and experienced warrior, having already held the rank of major at the start of the Human-Covenant war. For him, the war had been an opportunity both to strive for the honor and glory of victory, and to serve the will of the gods. Early in his career, there was nothing that had set him apart from other ambitious Sangheili warriors. He did not have any particularly exceptional skills, nor an enlightened strategic mind. What he did have was the ability to survive, and to learn every lesson he could take in from every battle and skirmish.

Over the course of the war, every facet of Vael's skill as a warrior was honed to a fine edge. From simple aim, to his ability to keep a calm mind in the chaos of battle, Vael became a more and more deadly presence on any battlefield. Victories, and especially defeats, shaped his judgment and leadership ability just as much as his personal combat skills. Like many of his kind, he preferred to kill in close quarters, especially with a blade. In both fighting against the Humans and countless hours of training and sparring among other Sangheili, he learned the intricacies of using a blade in a variety of contexts, and against different opponents. Given his people's respect for swordsmanship, it was this accomplishment, perhaps more than the others, that most helped him to ascend the ranks of the Covenant. In the end, it was not accident, nor fate, nor genetics bestowing natural talent that created the warrior Vael became. It was pure, earned experience.

In the closing years of the Human-Covenant war Vael had ascended all the way up to the rank of Zealot, and in the final months, he had remained on High Charity after accepting an even more honored position. He was present when High Charity arrived at Installation 05…and present when the San'Shyuum wholly betrayed the Sangheili. Being stationed on the Covenant Holy City, he was a part of some of the thickest of fighting against Jiralhanae-led Covenant forces, then later the Flood as it infected the city. Ultimately, he did escape the parasite and went on to join the Fleet of Retribution to cleanse Earth of the Flood. From there, he took part in the Battle of the Ark, which finally put an end to Truth's Covenant.

Following the end of the war, many Sangheili returned to their homes, to their clans. Many of those allied with one faction or another, but Vael did not do so immediately. His life had been one of honor and war, but most of all service to a faith he now knew to be a lie. Shortly after the Battle of the Ark, he secured a small ship and simply…left. He was not seen in Swords of Sanghelios space, nor that of the UNSC. With the exception of a single re-fueling run on Squala, it was as if he had vanished from civilized space.

Then, after a year's absence, Vael suddenly returned to Sanghelios itself. He pledged his service and loyalty to the Swords of Sanghelios. Given his history, he rose quickly through the ranks. However, those who knew him before the war would have saw some changes in him. He was more reserved, both in terms of speech, and in a more cautious, calculated style of leadership. Perhaps the most notieable change is that, while he still kills his enemies without hesitation, he no longer shows the same eagerness to take glory in battle. He no longer demonstrates his pride in his kills, nor intentionally seeks the most challenging of foes. Despite all of this, his effectiveness has not diminished. He continues to be an honored warrior among the Sangheili, but for those who knew him before, one cannot help but to wonder what else has changed within him. Despite this, he has been chosen for the Aegis Team as a Sangheili warrior with enough skill and experience to be comparable to a Spartan.

[User]
Tar 'Mdalak
The Kel 'Darsam - off Paxopolis Broadwalk

---

Tar chuckled and patted her comrade affectionately on the back. "If the Humans gave you poison, would you eat that too?" She enjoyed the regular meetings and light hearted banter with Kryu more than she probably let on. It provided temporary solace for her, especially as her deployment to Sarcophagus stretched from weeks into months.

Kryu shrugged. "I am not convinced that was not their intention. It was sweet at first, but the aftertaste was horrid. I still feel that I can taste it. The last time they gave me something of theirs to eat, it was most acceptable. Pleasant, even. Perhaps they were attempting to earn my trust?" He said with a short grunt.

Their food came quickly - popular dishes were pre-prepared and kept hot for the breakfast rush which was due in 10 minutes or so. Tar devoured hers, foregoing utensils over holding the bowl up and grabbing food with her tongue and mandibles.
"So, I had an...interesting simulation...with some fresh recruits just now." Tar ventured in between mouthfuls. "Such an array of characters - three sessions in and they're still as diverse as the seasons. It seems ONI doesn't like making things easy for me! How was your training exercise yesterday?"

Kryu huffed, shaking his head slightly before pausing to take a drink. "All but one of my recruits have never so much as used a thruster pack before, but that is fine. The ones that have never flown do not know what they are doing, so they listen to me. It's the one with experience that gives me trouble. He has his own technique, and does not wish to stray from it. So, yesterday, he comes in too quickly for his landing, does a poor job of handling the impact, and breaks his leg. The last I saw him, he was arguing with the medics."

"We're certainly a stubborn kind, aren't we?" Tar slurped her shake. "So many returning from war with rushed, incomplete training. They now hide behind hero status, claiming imaginary feats of valour. Tar heard herself speak and realised she had assumed an overly negative tone.
She had feats of valour too, despite not serving in the war. Her Keep had been attacked by surprise, and she'd fought them off with her own soldiers. But she seldom felt comfortable talking about those feats. She had failed her father by allowing him to be captured. The shame still threatened to overwhelm her years later. She'd only managed to hint to Kryu what had transpired, so it was no wonder blurting it out in front of the recruits had shaken her.

Even if she had wanted to gloat, she would've needed to embellish some of it. Much of that battle was clouded by a red haze in her mind, preventing her from recalling some details. The clearest memory she had was tentatively asking her trusted lieutenant about what he'd seen several days after. She would never forget the look on his face. Raw fear, of her.

Tar decided to change the subject. "Have you heard any more whispers of an actual mission, outside Paxopolis?"

Again, Kryu shook his head. "I haven't heard anything specific. I know our commanders have put the garrison on alert, but no one is saying what we are on alert against. I am wondering if we are simply being tested? I believe many of the recruits sent here are chosen based on how well they will get along with former enemies. Perhaps they want to see if we still have the skill and discipline necessary to defend this place?" He reasoned.

"Shaking down the base would put everyone in their place, whether that is at the barricades or on the next shuttle back to Sanghelios." Tar agreed, thoughtfully tasting the last strips of meat in her bowl.

After a short pause to have some of his breakfast, Kryu gave Tar a curious look. "You are still wanting to be reassigned from here, aren't you." He asked, though he still did not know the exact reason why she had been looking to leave.

[Assistant]
Vael 'Virisusai

---

Vael hummed to himself, taking a moment to observe the defenses and other points of interest that Shih was highlighting in the compound. Walls and other fortifications, turrets, clusters of soldiers, there were plenty of obstacles for them to get through to reach the center.

"There is some possibility that these two groups will turn on each other in the confusion, but we should not rely on it. And if they have an escape plan prepared, I do believe these cowardly rebels will try to go to ground no matter who they think is attacking them. As soon as they are alerted to an attack, we need to reach the central structure quickly if we are to catch them." Vael reasoned. He gave another look at the defenses, particularly what appeared to be an anti-aircraft turret on the near side of the compound. "The battle group can land reinforcements when they arrive, while we move to pursue their leader. But not all of us are equipped to sneak through such heavy defenses. I suggest we move forward with Spartan Ryker's plan to sneak in, for those of us who are able, and sabotage that anti-aircraft turret. That will clear a path for a dropship to insert the rest of the team directly onto the central structure."

[User] "I like the idea of causing chaos and confusion among the two factions present, though if we are going to call in reinforcements, the anti-aircraft cannons and other defenses will need to be dealt with first. Sending in a team with active camouflage, as Spartan Ryker suggested, is a sound plan, and I say we act upon it when the chance arrives." said Spartan Aviza, still prone upon the mesa. "The question is though, who here has active camouflage and will join us on this short but very important stealth mission? Remember, the longer we wait, the worse this whole situation could get. It is better that we handle the problem at hand so they do not develop into something more serious." If it was up to her, and it wasn't, she would have called quite a few MAC-Blasts down upon the complex, wiped them all out, and called it a day before any of the hostiles would know what happened. Aviza was very straight forward like that at times, but deep down she knew that was not going to work for the current mission.

[Assistant]
Spartan Lucas Ryker

Ryker's form flickers from view very briefly before coming back into sight. "I would never ask my teammates to run a job I wouldn't. I suggested the plan, I'll help carry it out." The SPARTAN-IV had no qualms about helping to carry this out, if not doing the job himself. Black Ops cells rarely had the kind of support that Aegis was getting, and they could rarely afford to send out more than one man even for an important job like this.

"If no one else wants to go, just give me the charges and some time. Wouldn't be the first time I've planted explosive charges solo."

[User]
Roy and Elna made their way to the designated way point that the gracious and ever benovlennt Spartan Lead Aviza had set for them and for once they followed through and found themselves with the team. Taking cover, Elna held up a over watch position on their rear incase any smart brutes or jackals decided they wanted to come through and pick a fight with the elite team of questionable operatives. While everyone made their pitches on how to take down the URF and the covvie rememnants. To Elna it didn't really matter the thinking part of the job was not in her job description she just laid down bodies where they were required to fall, for her it was just another waking minutes in this unyielding hell hole.

"Perhaps instead of just turning this camp into an afterthought with the MAC, we identify the HVT and then blast it. Or don't, I'm impartial maybe your AI have some witty statement to back this up."  He says checking his PDA briefly before slithering up to Vael and Aviza where he expected some kind of daily validation or maybe a pat on the back which would make his ego jump through the roof.

[Assistant]
Vael 'Virisusai and Shih

---

Vael did not take his eyes off of the compound below, though he did respond to Spartan Ryker. "I will join you. We will need to move quickly and avoid discovery, but we may also have to ensure there is no one to discover the charges before they detonate. We should make sure that our reinforcements are ready to join the battle the very moment the rebels are put on alert. The construct…Shih, can it send a message informing the battle group of this plan so they can be ready for our signal?"

"She can, yes." Shih replied with some noticeable offense in her tone. "There is always some small risk, but if I send the message as a short, encrypted data burst, then the rebels shouldn't be able to intercept it. Or at least, they won't understand what they intercepted until it is too late.

Vael nodded towards Aviza, as it was her suit the AI was inhabiting. "Then you should do so. Our reinforcements need to be ready to act."

"Already working on it. As for Petty Officer Younan's concerns, he does have a point. We still don't know who we are supposed to be capturing here, but I think the rebels themselves can help us figure that out. Once all Hell breaks loose, they are going to be scrambling to get their leader out of there. Spartan Aviza's armor is equipped to easily intercept their communications, so if we decrypt them, we might be able to learn what we need." The AI suggested.

While the others were speaking, Vael slowly crawled back from the edge of the Mesa, making sure he was far enough away that he did not silhouette against the sky when he stood back to his feet. "Someone who is equipped to observe from distance should remain here to assist in guiding us through the compound."


[System]
(Without earrings and nowhere near as serious)
Age: 16

Occupation: Grocery store employee

Gift: None

School: St. Sebastian's knight academy

Personality: Taro is pretty care free, and is pretty whimsical. He tries to lighten the tension a lot, even if it doesn't need lightening, and likes to tease people who are too serious. He's a pretty charismatic guy, very bright, and tends to make friends quickly. He's smarter than he looks, however, and doesn't overstep the boundaries, and he won't fool around with people he doesn't really know. He respects his friends and is fairly loyal to them. He's mischievous, but lazy and he likes fooling around. He smiles a lot and finds quite a few things amusing. That said, he's fairly stubborn if it comes to something he's decided on. He likes video games, and he has a number of shooting and racing games.

Biography: Taro was fairly normal, but he got pegged as a troublemaker a lot as a kid because he… Well, he made trouble. As a result, he has a lot of experience in climbing, running hiding and deception. That said, his parents are normal, his older sister is normal and his cat is pretty normal too. So Taro's kind of the odd one of the bunch, but also pretty normal. One day, he found that he liked archery. It felt pretty nice and it seemed to be almost natural to him. He ended up trying to be a speed shooter, and he succeeded to some degree. But he took it a bit further and tried running while shooting, which was quite different. He got the hang of the basics eventually. He doesn't really know why he tried it, but it's fun as hell, so he doesn't regret it. He lived his day to day life in relative peace, until he realised that he didn't know what to do in life. He decided to become a knight so that he would have a relatively stable job for the rest of his life, and moved out to academy city. He got training in ranged weaponry of many forms (including guns and bows) and is the pretty much the best of the few marksmen in St Sebastian's knight academy.

His favourite bow is red.

[User]
It was a quiet time in the firing range at St Sebastian's, a time when one could take a break and relax from all the laser gun firing and the bullet gun firing. Yup, it was a time for Taro to stop shooting his guns and shoot his bow instead. From the back line, Taro fired upwards at a dummy a little bit away, spearing it through the top of the head.
"Oh, sweet. It hit." Taro said.

He found that shooting normal guns was rather boring. Sure, lasers were cool and, but they lacked punch. And yes, the more 'normal' guns had pretty good punch, but with something like a bow and arrow...

"Alright, let's try this..." Taro said.
He took two arrows from the nearby quiver and put one of them on the string, keeping the other one in his hand. He drew back and aimed upwards, at the dummy's head once again. As he let go, he quickly took aim straight towards the dummy's head and drew the other arrow back quickly. He released it as the other arrow arced and was met with a well timed, satisfying thock as both arrows hit the dummy at the same time.

"Holy crap, that worked!" Taro said.
Well, he'd had little doubt that it would, but it was still cool. He pressed the button to open the door to the target field and walked over to analyse the damage.
"Hm...." He thought.
Hitting the target twice was actually rather pointless, as one arrow should've been enough to pierce the brain. That said, if he fought robots or something, then maybe it would actually be useful.
"It's only really useful for showing off..." He thought.
He shrugged and eased the two arrows from the dummy. He walked back to the sniper's nest and picked up his quiver. That was enough practise for today.

As he went to retrieve his belongings from the locker room, he noticed as he picked up his phone that he had a mmessage from Kanako, which was curious. It was still around class time, afterall. Well, nearing the end of the day, but still. He quickly read over the contents.
"WHAT?!" He said aloud in disbelief.
She was getting an enforcer desk job? Why would she? He entered a quick reply.

With that, he hit the send button, not even pausing to look over it. He'd probably written something stupid, but whatever. He still couldn't think of why Kanako had wanted to be an enforcer. Then again, her personality was kind of airy, and her control over her esper power wasn't the best, so maybe she wanted some kind of protection?

Taro sighed and picked up his bag. He hoped he'd at least see her at the evening shift. He had to ask her in person about this. Fortunately, the bell went to signal the end of the day, so he slung his bag over his shoulder and started heading home. As he walked out of the school grounds, he stretched and yawned. It'd been a reasonably annoying day, but it was his first-first-day-of-school he'd spent as a senior with responsibilities, because honestly, he didn't like responsibilities. He was kind of tired, and the prospect of Kanako getting an enforcer desk job didn't exactly give him a huge burst of energy.

He sighed again. The week promised to be a remarkably annoying one, despite the apparent 'freedom'. Sure, there was no school, but there was the fact that he had to go do competitions and contests that he would rather avoid. Representing St Sebastian's or something. If he had his way, he'd shut himself in his apartment for the entire week only emerging to consume food and buy games and manga. In fact, to be honest, he really wanted to be a neet for the rest of his life and not have to worry about anything, but bills had to be paid and he needed money for that. All in all, the next week would be pretty bothersome for him.

[Assistant]
At the arrival of an excited Kanako, Touji turned around, his arms filled with snacks and whatnot that he gathered while she was in the weapon's demonstration. "Oh, you becoming an enforcer? Sounds dangerous." Taking a sandwich and eating it whole in a single bite, he continued on speaking after that. "Are you sure a dimwit like you can hold a gun well enough? It'd be a tragedy if you dropped your gund because of your ability." Of course, while he sounded rude and carefree, he was just expressing his worry, twisted as it may be, though, to be honest, it was worry for everyone around her and she herself.

Still, the next thing he saw, was Kanako happily sending mails to other people in her phone. Munching on some kind of bread enxt, Touji peeked over to see what she was writing. "You dragging other people into your craziness too? Enforcers should start giving away safety vests with you around." Giggling slightly, Touji finally thought it'd be just common courtesy oferring something to Kanako. Maybe having something in her stomach might make her think somewhat clearer.

"Want some? I can get plenty more later." He showed Kanako his whole assortment of food, so she could pick something. "So, what next? Do we skip class again or something? Regardless, I need some serious sleep."

[User] Mikhail was in the midst of rearranging all of his luggage on his back so he wouldn't drop a bag every ten seconds during the long trek that it was to his flat when his attention was grabbed by a rather odd sentence. The red haired boy turned only to be greeted by the sight of a girl a foot shorter than her. He stared at the girl in silence for a few moments as he had to replay the sentence again a few times in his head to get its meaning, he wasn't use to listening to German accents. "Oh, you want to know where ya room is?" He said before he scratched his chin and looked over his shoulder back at the city. "Yeah I suppose I could point ya in the right direction. Do you have an address or anything already lass? He asked hoping that this would go smoothly, though knowing his own luck Mikhail doubted that.

[Assistant]
"Are you sure a dimwit like you can hold a gun well enough?" Touji said. "It'd be a tragedy if you dropped your gun because of your ability."

Kanako giggled. "Aw, are you worried about me?" she cooed. "I'll be fine! I'm going to learn how to get super awesome with the gun!"

"You dragging other people into your craziness too? Enforcers should start giving away safety vests with you around," Touji said, upon seeing her texting.

Well, Kanako was, in fact, doing just that. When Touji offered, she happily accepted a box of Pocky, which she tucked into her pocket.

Taro had just texted her! And, hey, the idea of him becoming an enforcer too... that was pretty cool! She hurriedly texted him back, and then put her phone away. It was kind of rude to text someone else while talking to Touji.

"Ahhhhh," she hummed. "If you're sleepy, you might as well skip! It's not like we're doing anything important on the first day, anyway. Or you could go home and sleep. Or something. You stayed up all night for Chiyo-chan, right? I have to meet that guy after classes, though, so I can't skip with you today..."

She stretched, feeling rather pleased. She'd asked that guy to meet her in front of her classroom, so she'd better head back to classes. "Well! I have to go back to class, I guess, but I'll text you later! And I'll tell you how it goes!"

She started heading back to the classroom.

[User]
So, as Eri woke up from her deep sleep, my excuse she noticed she had missed the whole meeting thing. She honestly didn't care much, but she remembered that class was still going on.

She noticed she had a text, and that it was from Kanako. She read it slowly, and was quite surprised. She made a quick reply.

She then quickly put her phone away to not get caught by the teacher.
----------

Moecue Kotono.

During her Anima Magic class at Seventh Sanctum, Kotono was paying very close attention. She wanted to be able to use magic in both Light Magic and Anima Magic successfully. She may have had Thoron, but that was a slow spell and took way to much of her energy to use more than 2 times.

Today, they were talking about Fire Magic. They taught the basics, such as what different types of Fire Magic is useful for. One of the spells created a pillar in front of the caster, to force opponents to step back. She supposed that would be useful.

At the end of class, they gave every student a book about Fire Magic to look at and study with. In the hall, Kotono decided to go to her next class (after putting things in her locker, of course).

And that's the opener for Moecue- I mean, Kotono.

[Assistant]
After grabbing a box of pockys, Kanako decided to bail on him and go back to the classroom. He was partly suggesting that they skip together, but since she didn't seem to take the hint, or didn't want to do so, at the very least. "Ehhh? C'mon, don't leave me alone. I'll die from loneliness like a rabbit if you leave me alone!" Touji hurried after Kanako. He wanted to sleep, but he wasn't about to be all alone like that. He didn't like being left alone for a lot of time. It got boring, having no one he could pester around. Or talk to for that matter.

"If you are so eager to go, then I'm going with you. Just to make sure you don't kill anyone, or yourself." Touji said, making up his mind to go with Kanako after school was done with. Well, at the very least, he had something to do now, for the rest of the evening. It was dangerous, yes, but it was something to do, contrary to what he would have done had he gone straight to his house. He had the day free from work, after all.

[User]
"Oh, you want to know where ya room is?" the now obviously Irish peer said before he scratched his chin and looked over his shoulder back at the city. "Yeah I suppose I could point ya in the right direction. Do you have an address or anything already lass? "

"Vell..... That is vhere I have the.. problem." she pointed to the paper detailing her living quarters. It read: Section B of District 7 of the Naval Studies Region. Room Number 4775 Arkillia Academy Dormitories, quadrant 4. She looked back at the student and shook her head. "This is very confusing, is it not? It seems so unnecessarily messy, as if it is a test itself on my navigational skills. Very little to work with here in this foreign land when it comes to navigating to specific districts, regions, sections, or vhatever seems to classify as an 'address' on this chaotic island." Aya was, needless to say, barely keeping up the dike that was now holding back her building frustration and rage as a result to her understandably exhausted position. For the Irishman's sake, she better be home soon.

[Assistant]
Taro got another text from Kanako and started seriously considering his options. Well, really, there wasn't much of one. He'd get paid for being an enforcer, first of all. More than being a grocery store employee, at least. He had been planning to join the enforcers sooner or later, so it wouldn't jar his ambitions or anything. And besides, his current boss was kind of annoying. Also, he assumed he could be a part time enforcer, which meant that he could still possibly do the grocery store job and get those handy discounts as well as having some more income...

Alright, that settle it. Taro thought.
For friendship and money, he'd become an enforcer. He decided to take a little detour from his walk home to the nearest enforcer office to sign up. He didn't know what exactly he needed, but he technically had all his credentials. ID, credit card and his bow (in case he needed to make badass shots) were all on him.

Taro walked through the doors of the enforcer office, near the bakery down the road from his house, and walked through the sliding doors, pacing towards the reception desk.
"Hey, I wanna be an enforcer." He said to the receptionist.


[System]
* May be edited in the future for more information and to reflect events taking place IC.
Ambassador of the Pale Moors
Age:
28

Known for:
She is one of the youngest High Scholars in the history of the Academy of Myrr. She was hailed as a prodigy, but many dark whispers are now revolving around whether or not she obtained her status as a High Scholar by her own intellect, or if something - or somebody - else was at work.
Dirty little secret:
Disclosed – For now.
Skills:
Elayne has the intellect of a Scholar, but the charisma of a politician. She was never one for fighting, and instead uses her wit to smooth her way. If it comes to fighting, however, she isn't to be taken lightly. Though she lacks in raw power, her strategies can get her out of the trickiest situations.
Motto:
"The edge of a well placed word is often sharper than those swords you brutes seem to enjoy carrying around."

Name of the Province:
The Moor of Pale Giants
Name of your liege:
Grimmald sur'Pael,
Blessed by the Sun, Defender of the Rift
Position:
The Pale Moors, as many people call the province, lay on the southwestern border of Emperiat. The capital of this province, Paelsomr, is nestled just on the Great Rift, a monstrous valley that connects Emperiat and the Savage Lands.
Specialty:
Though they boast a commendable force of warriors, they by no means hold an army – instead, their specialties are in their ability to grow many different types of crops due to the climate of the Pale Moors, and in their well-learned scholars and libraries. They use strategy over force, and apply their knowledge to tilling the lands, and to making grand new inventions.
History:
The Pale Moors is a realm of odd, eclectic design. The majority of the land is filled with moors and terraced farms, while giant, sun-bleached mountains jut steeply out of the green landscape, dividing the border of Emperiat and the Savage Lands. Through out the history of the Pale Moors it has been tradition to sculpt these Pale Giants, as they call the mountains, in the likeness of the Grand Kings of Emperiat. In this way the people of the Pale Moors display their fealty to the crown.

The beginnings of this province differ in many historian's books, but one thing seems to hold true throughout: The people who reside here once belonged to the fierce Savage Lands, but they swore allegiance to Emperiat after losing a war. What happened after has been a debate for centuries. Some say that they had rebellions within their people, and those who defied the will of Emperiat were thrown back into the Savage Lands, and that is how their eternal struggle came forth. Others believe that only a select caste were allowed to become part of Emperiat, and the lower caste were left to fend for themselves in the Savage Lands.

Whatever the case may be, the people of the Pale Moors have been at constant war with those who reside in the Savage Lands. In recent years, the attacks from their vigilant foe have been getting increasingly more volatile and insistent.

[User]
It was a few years ago that Saran visited Argon for the first time. Before that he spend his whole life in Kumur. It looked like he would have to stay a little longer in this city. Until the king came of age, or he joined Zunit in his sky palace, since royal advisers where prone to accidents.

The crowd that gathered to greed them was enormous, hundreds of people, dozens of merchants trying to sell trinkets and Saran's eyes even spotted a group of Zunit followers, lead by a monk. Argon had the biggest temple of Zunit outside of Kumur, a relatively new building but already gathering many followers. The temple was not comparable to the royal palace however. The palace was a gigantic building and it took hours to reach it.
Saran spend the time in contemplation, prayer and thought. He thought about the other advisers. He did not know much about them. What kind of people might they be? What would be their goals? Saran knew his, to make the king a righteous ruler, behaving according to scripture and the will of Zunit. He also wanted to strengthen the church and Kumur in the kingdom and would look to influence the king in such ways.

When the carriage finally arrived at the royal palace after the hours of travelling through the loud and obnoxious masses Saran was relieved as his carriage caught quite a few stones. A lackey opened the door and Saran was greeted by a man in fancy clothing, the uncle of the king. As the royal steward talked about the dead king, Saran did the sign of Zunit, forming a circle with his hands to show his sorrow and sadness for the loss.
The dead king was well regarded in Kumur, since he did not interfere with church business and although not a direct follower of Zunit himself he once said to have read all of the holy scriptures.
Directly after that they were send into the throneroom. A slender servant bumped into Saran, but he barely even noticed. Saran had not really a chance to study the other advisers when stood before the king. His first impression of the king was not the best. He seemed like a spoiled child, lacking wisdom. But perhaps the scriptures and the way of Zunit could find acceptance within him.
After that Saran spend no time talking to the other advisors as he walked away to have some privacy.

[Assistant]
As the carriages filed down the streets, Ella looked out the window silently wishing that she could be doing something more amusing. The city was completely alien to her, what wasn't alien though was the peasants angrily throwing rocks as she rode past. The poor and ugly hated the rich and fabulous, that was the truth of the world and Ella accepted that. At least this was more peaceful than the murder attempts back home. A group of Nobles walked by wearing the Arena crest, one saluting her as he passed. In response, Ella shook her hand briefly and winked. The man who had saluted blushed and looked away, then began to walk faster. Ella curiously stuck her head out the window of the carriage, which she was quickly punished for by a small rock connecting with the top of her head and causing a flower to fall from her hair. Before she retreated to the interior yet again, Ella caught a glimpse of the castle, which was only a few meters away.

The poorly dressed serf that had driven Ella's carriage stepped down and opened her door simultaneously with the other serfs. As she stood, the man attempted to grab one of her scarfs, which she quickly reprimanded him for with a hard smack. Maybe bringing a driver from home wasn't as good an idea as it had seemed when she had left. Anyhow, she followed the steward in to meet the Heir Apparent. On their way in, a serf bumped the "High Inquisitor", who simply ignored the man. Ella quickly flagged the man down and whispered to him, "Could you have some wine here for me by the time this meeting is over? I'm parched." The look on the man's face said "You just got here and you're ready to get drunk already?" Despite the look he gave, he quickly nodded and rushed off.

Ella ignored the introductions and opening of the king's speech, bending one knee slightly, waving, and winking when she was introduced. She was generally uninterested until the boy on the throne spoke of their council being poor based on their travel speed. At this point she suddenly looked shocked but quickly recollected herself and gave a coy look to the other advisors. When the boy dismissed them, Ella quickly took the lead of the charge outward, led only by the two serfs who were here to escort them. Upon getting to their destination, she quickly scanned the area for the slender serf who would be carrying her beverage. When he was nowhere to be seen, she looked to the only other female advisor and said, "Good for nothing servants, can't deliver wine on time if their life depended on it." She giggled a bit before becoming silent to wait for a reply.


[System]
Known Aliases: Frostbite
Age: 28
Appearance: Standing at 5'9" and weighing 60 kilograms, Alfred Gunther appears to be an unassuming man that could hardly be suspected of being a non-mundane. He naturally has black hair, and strands of grey could be seen if someone looks closely enough.

Psyche Profile: Alfred seems to be tranquil in nature, as he rarely if ever raises his voice to… well, anyone. He has a cheerful disposition, and that's not really that far from the truth. His records indicate that he really was, for the most part, a model citizen, with the incidents that landed him into the Borehole being the only odd ones out. Even when transformed as the Cryo Phoenix, he retains this personality. It is indeed strange to see such a creature of terrifying power to appear to be so friendly, though whether or not this is merely a ruse is yet to be seen.

Alfred expresses regret over the devastation that his other half is capable of, but as his memory is intact, he had stated that the things he did as the Cryo Phoenix were fully justified, if not done in a far less than subtle way.

Perhaps this can be explained by the theory that the consciousnesses of Frostbite and Alfred Gunther have merged into a single psychic entity within his mind. Historical records indicate that the Frostbite is a primordial entity that had been imprisoned and manipulated for centuries, being freed when it passed into Alfred Gunther. The synchronicity of their minds remains unexplained, but this merger disrupted whatever mental chains that its controllers once had. Alfred Gunther/Frostbite now seek bloody retribution for the continual anguish that it suffered. It is reasonable to assume that those members of that 'Cabal' are the only beings that he would be irrevocably hostile to. Irritation may briefly capture Gunther should other prisoners or the guards intentionally aggravate him, but he would usually dismiss these later on. Despite this apparent selectiveness, Frostbite has no qualms about collateral damage.

Background: According to records, Alfred Gunther hailed from a lower middle income family in Juneau, Alaska. He is the only child of Sandra Poltar Gunther and William Gunther, and was described to have been 'cherished and spoiled rotten'. William worked as a miner that secretly was bonded to the [REDACTED] and was one of the non-mundane, while Sandra was a nurse. High costs of living ensured that their funds were always short and barely sufficient to provide for everything they needed. As such, everyday was yet another period of time in which the fate of their home would be decided. He had no siblings, with his one potential younger brother dying from a miscarriage. He did have friends, but it wasn't enough to fill the void. He would later go on to finish university through the aid of a scholarship, and went to a career of pharmaceutical research.

When Alfred was around 27 years old, he appeared to have contracted a serious illness. Hospital records from Juneau indicate that it was late stage leukemia, having gone undetected over the years until it began seriously affecting his life. There was little hope of curing it so late, and his life was almost certain to end within several months, his father William turned to desperate measures just to save his life. He implored that the [REDACTED] go and save him. Sandra, being unaware of this arrangement, had all but accepted that their only child was going to be gone too soon.

Until he wasn't. When Alfred was taken out for a walk in the patch of woodland near the hospital, a phoenix of ice emerged from the forest, initially frightening hikers and campers in the area but eventually disappearing into the night.

Sandra thought that Alfred's recovery was a miracle. William, and to a lesser extent, Alfred himself knew what really happened: an eldritch creature, a being of primal winter, had come to inhabit his body and mind like his father before him. He had been given new life, and perhaps a life of ageless immortality for as long as the Frostbite is bound to him, but at what cost?

Such eldritch action would not go unnoticed. After around a year, a cabal of sorcerers, the ones that had granted William the power of the Frostbite decades prior in exchange for saving his life, were enraged to learn the creature they created had transferred into a new host, one they couldn't control. As such, they sent threats of annihilation, and gave a short deadline before they carried them out.

The one thing they didn't expect, however, was for the Frostbite to be utterly intertwined into the mind of Alfred Gunther to the point that it was him, and he was it. Memories of the other treacherous deeds that the Cabal flowed through his mind. He even saw how they operated in collusion with other groups. So, a day after they had sent their missives of destruction, the Cryophoenix attacked the city hall where they were secretly ruling as Juneau's lords, utterly destroying them, save for one, who managed to escape through a portal.

That is not what the world thought, however. From the perspective of any good citizen, this was an indiscriminate attack against the long serving city council that had done good to Juneau. And so, the government tracked down Frostbite and apprehended him. The lone survivor of the Cabal propped up additional charges, such as the trafficking of illegal narcotics, black market trading, and the committing of unsolved murders that the Cabal had actually committed in protecting their position. These all went through, of course, and Alfred Gunther was sent to the Borehole…

Skills, Talents and Learning:

For most of his life, he had relegated himself to staying behind a desk, and as such, wouldn't appear to be physically intimidating as a human, though he did have self defense class years prior. When transformed, he appears to have a far more innate understanding of combat whether at range or in close quarters, and would consistently use the environment to aid himself.

He was a pharmacist; however, Alfred doubts that any skills learned as one would be beneficial in any escape attempt.

Power(s) and Capabilities:

Cyro Phoenix Transformation: Alfred has the ability to turn into a Frost Phoenix with a body made from supernatural ice at will. The Phoenix itself is about the same height as he is as a human, bearing a wingspan of around 10 feet wide at maximum. The ice that comprises this form is of eldritch nature, being strangely resistant against small arms fire and sharp weapons. The wings each have a single claw that can easily deal painful wounds to an unprotected person.

Transforming into the Frost Phoenix essentially atomizes and reforms his body; as such, injuries sustained as a human are removed upon transformation. Taking injuries whilst human will trigger transformation as a form of subconscious defence mechanism.

Cryokinesis In the Frost Phoenix state, he is able to breath conical blasts of freezing wind at close to medium ranges, rapidly draining the kinetic and heat energy of targets caught in the attack to the point that they could be turned into frozen popsicles. In addition, his presence exudes a cold zone with a radius of three meters, causing temperatures to gradually drop to -5° C unless counteracted by a heat factor within that zone.

As a human, Alfred is able to create and manipulate ice into whatever shape he wishes, though this ice isn't the supernatural variant that his transformed state is composed of. Since his cryokinetic ability in his human state is rather weak and incapable of ever killing anyone, he uses his cryokinesis to make pretty ice sculptures.

Power Limits: Alfred's abilities appear to lack reach; in order to freeze any hostile entities, he has to close the distance of at least seven feet. In addition, his cryokinetic powers can be counteracted through insulating materials and heat based powers/weaponry.

The transformation into a Cryo Phoenix is not instant, taking around 10 seconds to complete. As such, nearby guards would be able to respond to it using a taser to cut the transformation short.

Known Vulnerabilities:
The Frost Phoenix, while capable of maintaining an extremely cold internal temperature, can be overwhelmed by consistent application of intense heat and forced into a catatonic state, if not simply transforming back into a human form.

In addition to intense heat, Cyro Phoenix form appears to be vulnerable against sonic based attacks as well as extreme blunt force.

Motives: Alfred is driven to reveal the treachery of the Cabal of Juneau and their cohorts, though his subconscious directs him to enact vengeance upon them for ancient wrongs. That is the one thing he wishes to do if he is freed, and nothing or no one will get in the way.

Noble intentions? Perhaps. Methods? Uncompromising annihilation. Collateral be damned.

Level: Threat level, as defined by the Borehole's parameters. I will assign this to your character.
Recommended Containment Procedures: Alfred is to be kept inside a cell lined with insulated walls that are lined with thermal projectors. Heating kicks off whenever he attempts to freeze his way out of the cell.

When outside the cell, Alfred is to have an ankle-strapped power dampener to prevent him from transforming while away from the containment systems of his cell.

Notes: He insists on having spicy noodles as part of his lunch.

[User]
@Klumsykrow357 @Restalaan @Perse @KaelRavenheart @SrslyAnArtist@The Man Emperor@Blazion @SrslyAnArtist

Abigail "Atom Bomb" Zebrowski

Abby was happy to have the others watching her back, she was sure she would not get past the heavy guards on her own. The only problem is that there seemed to be more of them than before, "Kail theirs more food for ya, clear a path for us pretty please." Pointing towards the armed guards blocking the elevator. Being licked by the giant alien dog, The punk girl had a feeling that Kail considered her a friend. Abby was not sure if she could be as effective as the others, her powers would not be as effective as the others. Her confidence seemed to deflate a little, She didn't think that she would not be able to keep up with the others. But Abby felt a sudden rush of energy surging throughout her body. Turning her head around wondering where the radiation came from. She was sure as hell thankful because now she could help the group with fighting the guards. Her eyes started to turn a bright shade of green, her whole body emitting a good amount of radiation. If she could compare this feeling it would be like getting a hit of heroin.

"Shame I can't thank whoever gave me that boost." Her hands started to glow, shooting the light green balls towards the guards. Causing the guards that were hit to roll around on the floor, some of them removing their helmets revealing their blistered and burnt faces. Fighting her way through the guards and towards the elevator. Kicking the faces of the guards that were coming towards her, Using the boost of power to disable their attackers. Letting the others clean up the weakened guards. Drop kicking one of the guards, quickly getting back onto her feet. Grabbing a guard's arm, disarming him and taking the pistol from his hands. Pointing it at another guard that was trying to attack Iris. Hesitating for a moment, her hands were shaking violently. She could hear a voice speaking to her, "Do it, if you don't your friend is going to die." Quickly looking around wondering where the voice was coming from. Turning her attention back to the guards attacking Iris, she pulled the trigger popping a few shots into them. Stunning him enough for Iris to finish him off.

Abby was still shaking from firing the gun at the guard, taking another human life. "Your a killer Abby, you enjoy watching the light leave your victim's eyes. If you don't act and defend yourself, your gonna end up as a corpse." The voice seemed to be happening in her head. "Who is this? Where are ya?" Screaming out loud wondering if it was Mr.Q talking to her. "I'm not who you think I am, I'm just a friend watching your back. You better head to the elevator, or your gonna be DEAD LAST." This made Abby snap back to what was going on around her. Quickly picking up another pistol that was on the ground, duel wielding both pistols. Firing them at the guards while moving towards the elevator. Of course because of her inexperience, she missed most of her shots. Throwing the empty pistols at the guards, going back to using her powers. Firing those deadly green bolts of radiation at the heavily armed men. Running towards one of the guards, twisting the man's arm breaking it with a loud SNAP. She was no killer, she was not like the others. The people that Abby killed were all accidents. But then again she was still a murderer, even if it was an accident she still took a person's life. Running over towards the elevator, once the way was clear by her group."We wait for the others, I'm not gonna leave anyone behind." She said to Körbl, holding the door for the others to join her.

[Assistant]
@TheRedWatcher @Klumsykrow357 @Perse @KaelRavenheart @SrslyAnArtist@The Man Emperor@Blazion @SrslyAnArtist

Hmph.

Seeing multiple people getting into the lift and taking their time, it was like seeing an anthive being open forcefully by a shovel. So many inmates, prisoners, and guards. Fighting desperately for their freedom.

That kind of raw fight, where everything is on the line.

It never gets tiring to see it.

Then as Abby finally went inside and he joining her side, they were joined by others as the level that they're on will finally be traversed.

Still, who knows how many levels are there left?

Then someone apparently dropped right on top of their lift, one that had him instantly looked up and readied to fight but there was no hostile intent. Opening itself and with someone armed to the teeth as they deposited many weapons, Körbl eyes looked and sighted a sword.

"Can I have one of those?"Körbl pointed to a Katana. It was no messer and he had never really utilized these before but it was better than nothing.


[System]
Andredian | 30 | Male

Appearance

The first thing an outside observer may notice about Aldrich is his almost perpetual frown. His features severe and eyes always focused and scanning his surroundings in an almost paranoid manner. Beneath his weathered armour lies a body marred by the scars of hardship and abuse, his back a criss-cross of shining white scar tissue left by a vicious lash, as well as a collection of scars on his extremities caused by all manner of martial weapons. Nevertheless he stands tall, with pride hefted on his shoulders and carried with earned dignity.

Personality
When Aldrich speaks, he makes sure not to mince his words. He's blunt to a fault, and never raises his voice, save to bellow a roar of fury towards any opponent unfortunate enough to find itself on the wrong end of his sword. However, were one patient enough, and gentle in their prying they may uncover a rather dry sense of humour, and his own ironclad sense of justice. Justice dispensed at sword point more often than not. Though it must be stressed, that although Aldrich is no stranger to violence, he abhors the battle, and loves only the victory. If he ever appears to be brutal or barbaric in his manner of combat it is only due to his desire to end a conflict quickly and decisively.

Background

* Profession - Man-at-Arms (presently adrift)
* Class - Warrior
* Heritage - Lowborn

History
Aldrich was the son of a farmer who sent his boy off to become a Knight. It was the only way out of the drudgery of peasant life the family had any hope for and Aldrich's parents were all too eager to ship him off. He was placed under the care and tutelage of Lady Erissia, a famed and renowned Knight of The Crimson Guard who trained him in the manners of martial arms and courtly duties. He proved to be a clumsy swordsman, and struggled with reading and writing, yet ever-stubborn Erissia refused to give up on the boy. He eventually became a squire and was able to ride with Erissia and her Knights in battle. It was during a fateful skirmish in the land of the Dwemorlocks that Erissia and her Knights were slain. They were there on a crusade of righteousness, the Dwemerlocks standing against everything they held sacred, and longed to spill their foes blood upon their own shores. Their eagerness would lead to their deaths.
Aldrich, trembling at the sight of his mentor slain before him, anticipated his own death with terrible certainty.
Yet it did not come. Instead, he was captured, enslaved and forced to fight as a prisoner. At first he refused, throwing down the weapons and crying to any gods who may listen to offer him deliverance from his foul captors. His pleas fell of deaf ears, and with each lash of the whip his will was broken down until he learned to spill blood for the sadistic pleasure of the crowds.

It was this way for several years. The clumsy boy who used to fumble and drop his sword was now a hardened warrior who had killed too many men to bother counting. His body had grown accustomed to surviving on whatever rodents or insects he was able to snatch from his cage.
Life changed upon the addition of a new prisoner, one also native to Andred. They found a kinship with one another based on their mutual lineage and similar circumstances. They did their best to keep their friendship a secret, as they each knew it would result in severe punishment. Yet it was enough to return some light and life to Aldrich. The pivotal moment came when he was forced into combat with the man, pitted against him in a battle to the death. Aldrich threw down his sword and shield and loudly refused to fight. The friend he had made, with tears in his eyes, plead for him to strike him down. His willingness to sacrifice his own life for Aldrich only enforced his refusal. How could he kill this man who displayed such noble grace, in this land where nobility seemed strange and foreign? Aldrich was lashed to unconciousness right there, but not before he was made to watch his only friend run through.

Unbeknownst to Aldrich, a visiting Basilean noble on a mission of diplomacy had been in attendance. Lady Viera DeFeis was moved by the the man who refused to fight, even after he was shredded to pieces by the cruel whip. She negotiated his sale, and they were all too happy to be rid of the troublesome slave.
Now liberated from the Dwemorlocks he returned with her to her homeland where he served as her bodyguard until her death from illness where he was released from service. With nowhere left to call home, he took to the roads, taking advantage of his freedom to see the world. Lady DeFeis had often told him of the exotic locales her travels had taken her to and he longed to experience the same. Too many years shackled in a small cage left him with a deep yearning for freedom.

Reason for Travel
With no place left to call home, Aldrich felt the call of the uncharted southern lands. He felt compelled him to make his way there, and he managed to scrounge enough money to book passage aboard the Skirmisher.

Motivation/Goal
Aldrich longs to find a home to settle down, yet also has to quell the disparity in his heart and overcome the traumas of his past.

Capabilities
Despite his initial incompetence, Aldrich became a fearsome swordsman, favouring a sword and shield combination. He can also make deadly use of a shield in a pinch. His fighting style lacks finesse, yet makes up for it in pure ferocity.
Due to years of staving off starvation by eating whatever he could get his hands on, he developed tremendous constitution, able to weather the effects of disease and poison beyond what a regular man might.

Equipment

*
*
*

Money

Languages
Northern

---

[User]
Compared to Andredian soil or even just the soil of the Caelic isles he was most used to, the sand of this anonymous beach felt like lava. Not only was it scorchingly hot, but it also gave way in a manner perfectly suited to slow down things while making them more strenuous as well. Silently, Lachlan made a few small steps backward until his feet reached a spot that was regularly covered by the waves. Even more soft, but so nicely chill!

"Getting to Darkwater along this beach, even just assuming that there's no body of water between us and there ? Not with me! I vote for the jungle!"

Not that he did like that choice very much either as he could already imagine how the plantlife would turn the pure heat into a sweltering heat, but it would be less troublesome in other ways...

"We should try to stay close to the beach however, simply because if Darkwater is somewhere around this place, following the rough outline of the beach will guarantee us to find it." Having already navigated around some debris, the Caelic man was not hesitant to add: "It might also guarantee us to find more junk, some of which might be useful..."

Hadn't he just spotted something shiny glistening in the sun that was too large to be a grain of sand ? The red haired walked a few steps into said direction, pulling what turned out to be a carving knife out of the ditch. Some sort of leather bag seemed to be what it had fallen out of. Lacking any means to hide any items taken anyway, Lachlan just held it in his one hand while presenting the knapsack to the others.

[cllor=yellow]"If nobody else wants, I'll take this bag. Somebody should take the thing definitely unless we all want to walk around with our hands full! And we all should search this place thoroughly before leaving. If we made it here, a lot of other stuff might have made it, too."[/color]

Water would be nice... Lachlan started searching without stating specifically what else he was looking for while waiting for the others' reactions.

[Assistant]
---

As Jacqueline limped across the beach, ignoring the dead bodies in her wake, she noticed movement. At first, she worried it was local beasts smelling the fresh kills and hoping for a decent meal, but the figures were human-shaped. That didn't mean they weren't dangerous and Jacqueline cursed the Captain for removing her weapons.

As her eyes settled, she noted that they were part of the passengers on board alongside her. She hadn't made conversation with them, but she recognized them nonetheless. She limped her way over, noting everyone looked worse for wear. As she got closer, another figure on the ground moved. She became on guard again, wondering if the dead were coming back to life until she saw it was the Captain.

The options were not great, but it bet sitting on the beach cooking in the sun and waiting for gods knew what. If they were going to make this trek on foot, she would have to gear up. She scoured the beach for something, anything really, to help her. She saw a blade on the ground and almost cried tears of joy until she noted the cutlass was rusty. It would do in a pinch, but she would have to either fix that or find another weapon. She also saw a bottle of rum. She picked it up before any of the greedy others got their mitts on it. She poured a fair amount on the wound, feeling the sting of alcohol hitting the broken flesh. It would do for now. She then took a hearty swig before offering the bottle up. Drink up! Who knows when we will get another chance." It was probably stupid of her to drink rum over water, but if she got drunk enough perhaps she wouldn't notice she died of dehydration.

She gazed at the jungle. "I say we go through the jungle. Grab any weapons we have. You never know what lurks there." She raised her cutlass, letting it glint off the sun. She assumed the others could handle themselves, but one never knew with men.

[User]
Kjetil Svendsen

Kjetil was relieved to find that he was not alone on this beach and there were survivors. Only giving a simple nod to Holfort as he followed Holfort to the others. Where they found the Captain and some others. Are these all that survived? Kjetil thought and listened to what the Captain said.

So, either go into the jungle or stick to the coast. One was unknown, and the other also unknown, but in the hot sun and walking on the burning sand. He would rather take his chances with the jungle, but before then, he thought to try and find a weapon of some kind. He simply sighed. What he would give to have his axe and shield again. He would feel alot better with something he could defend himself with.

So without saying a word, the Norgardian departed the group and went to search for a weapon of some kind. After searching the bench, he did find something that brought him a warm smile. An axe, by the look of it, and it was embedded in a piece of the broken hull of the ship. Kjetil walked over and firmly grabbed it with both hands and pulled. After two attempts, he managed to free it from the hull. Then examining it to make sure it was up to par, and once he was satisfied. Kjetil started to make his way back to the group.

But, as he was starting to walk back, he noticed two water flasks. Realizing that they need some fresh water and who knows where the nearest river or lake or spring is. So Kjetil walked over, picked the two up, and tested if they had anything in them. Testing by taking a
small sip of them. The first one, to his joy, was fresh water, and as he went for the second. He quickly spat it out, "saltwater," he cursed. So he put the freshwater flask away on his person and emptied the saltwater one, even though it was filled with saltwater. If they can find a source of freshwater, then he can refill it and have two water flasks to share with the group.

After that, Kjetil returned to the group and held out the freshwater flask. "I found some water and try not to drink it all right now." Him patiently waiting to for someone to take it and spoke again. "I say we take our chances in the jungle. Sure we may find more stuff on the coast, but staying in the sun and walking the hot sand. That is not something we should not do in our state."

Now to see how the others feel about that, he is just happy to be armed again and with a weapon he is familiar with. Time to see where they will go, and they had to choose soon. For Kjetil does not want to be around when the wildlife shows up to eat what is left of the crew, and he knows full well how to defend himself. Hopefully, the others can do or at least be useful somehow.

[Assistant]
Aldrich listened as the other spoke, offering up their suggestions. Their options were limited to the burning hot beach, or the sweaty humid jungle. Neither prospect held much appeal, but Aldrich was no stranger to harsh conditions. From the moment of waking to now, his sense of awareness had sharpened into focus. The deeply ingrained habits formed from a life of servitude and subjugation were thankfully not lost on him now. It was a bitter kind of gratitude, but one he was in position to balk at. Seeing now that the Captain was alive and - relative to the numerous dead - well, Aldrich began to scan the beach for anything at all he might use. His eyes settled on a snapped and splintered boarding pike. It was roughly about a foot shorter than himself, but upon picking the thing up he felt satisfied enough with its weight, and reassured by the solidity of it in his hands.
As he had stooped down to retrieve it, he noticed a fluttering in the breeze. Walking over to inspect, he found a rough piece of torn parchment, miraculously pinned beneath some detritus from the boat. He gently pried it out and looked it over. It appeared to be a map, though Aldrich could make neither heads or tails of it, a sad holdover of his stunted education. He scowled at the enigmatic document, but kept it all the same. Someone else was bound to be able to decipher it's secrets.

Turning back to the group, now all similarly armed, he offered his own findings.
"Not much to be had here, but I found this. Seems to be a map," he added somewhat sheepishly, "I don't know how to read it." He held it out for someone to take, as he gratefully accepted the water flask from Kjetil. Aldrich was well accustomed to rationing, and would not succumb to the temptation of slaking his thirst, despite how dry his mouth currently was.
"It seems as though the jungle is the popular option," Aldrich reasoned to them, "At the very least we should find some welcome shade, but perhaps we should try not to go too deep. If we can keep the coast in sight, or at least in earshot we may stand a better chance of finding our way."
Though, as he spoke his eyes landed on the peculiar carving at the mouth of the jungle. It's likeness' teeth bared in a ghastly snarl, as if to ward away any would-be interlopers.
Despite the stifling heat of the sun, Aldrich felt a chill descend his spine.


[System]
Abstract: The quiet, roof-hopping delivery girl.

Detail:
Meryn is a twig of a girl. Short, thin, and physically unimpressive in almost every way, people can often mistake her for a young boy, rather than a full-grown woman. She has sandy brown skin, long, straight black hair that she often keeps in a braid, and pale green eyes. Meryn also wears a small wooden pin with her name engraved on it, stuck to her jacket.

She was born without the ability to speak, but she rarely has any trouble getting her point across. Though she carries herself with a subtle confidence, she's acutely aware of what she is and isn't capable of, and is constantly trying to push that boundary. Independent, fearless, and just a little bit spiteful, telling her she can't or shouldn't do something is usually the quickest way to get her to do it. Although she seems aloof and closed off, Meryn is more soft-hearted than she first appears. If someone comes to her asking for help, she can't help but comply – even if she does roll her eyes and drag her feet along the way. It's easy for her heart to override her head, and her naivety can sometimes get her into trouble.

Though she grew up as a street urchin, and was generally looked down on by the majority of society in the first few years of her life, it wasn't long until she discovered a hidden talent: if she wanted to get somewhere, there was very little that could stand in her way. She could scale walls, leap from rooftop to rooftop, slip between bars. Soon enough, the entire town became one big playground to her. Eventually, the townspeople recognized her skill at getting from one point to another quicker than anyone should rightly be able to, and she began delivering notes and parcels for change. Today, Meryn is the most trusted delivery system in town for all sorts of letters and goods (that aren't too big for her to carry). When she's not swinging around the town like a monkey, she enjoys all sorts of music, and has recently started picking up different instruments from her customers and experimenting, with varying degrees of success.

[User]
Chaos.

She was surrounded by noise and light and screaming, terror that dug up old memories and made her want to find a tree to cry in. Feela ran down the stone covered path between the boulder-tents in a frantic haze, animal skin shoes slapping against the hard rock as she searched for her prey through the film of terror that obscured her surroundings.

The Dark-folk. That's what her teacher had called them. She had heard the ones calling themselves Traveler talk about Demon, and they seemed to be the same. She was supposed to kill the Dark-folk wherever she found them, they were dangerous and terrible. Her teacher had also told her to stay away from the Rock-tribes and their strange, square villages, but she had never told her which rule was more important, so here she was, surrounded by boulder-tents and cold-shiny-rock, and she hadn't even managed to find her prey. She should have left it alone, let the Rock-tribe deal with the wooden Night-folk, but what if they couldn't?

so what? a tiny voice said in her mind. Not in words, since she had lost her words long ago, but in feelings. let them die. Where were Rock-people when mother died, sobbing?

Feela came to a stop and shook her head violently, the bone shards on her necklace jangling loudly, it must have come untucked while she ran. She squashed that tiny, furious voice in her head and looked around again, trying to pick up some kind of trail.

[Assistant]
The spiral staircase seemed to spin rapidly around her while the clouded daylight shrank far above. The floor rushed up at her, and she might glimpse the lines of a sigil etched into the stone before a gust of wind surged and spun out of the darkness below, twisting around her with enormous power. The wind slowed her fall, turned her upright, and set her feet down carefully in the middle of the sigil before it dissipated. She would feel a little lightheaded, drained of energy. The sigil had been powered by her own will to live, after all.

"Who's there?" An old man was standing between Meryn and the only open door, a book clutched in his bony hands, wielded like a bludgeon. He was a thin, crochety looking fellow, with a hunch in his back, a bald head and comically furry eyebrows. He wore a threadbare housecoat over his faded pajamas, and his slippers had been worn to the heel.

The room at the bottom of the bell tower was round and clean and filled with shelves of books. There were ancient tomes and new paperbacks, pamphlets and maps and binders full of drawings. Though all of it was in an array of sizes and materials and degrees of wear, no library could have been more excellently maintained.

The old man's sharp eyes studied Meryn a moment before they went wide -- and he scowled with a deep jowly frown. "What you doin' with Spook's mask?" After another moment his eyes widened one more time in realization. "Don't you tell me he's kicked off." He lowered the book slowly, confusion and regret lining his old face.

Through the eyes of the mask, the old man's dreams were like the old scuffed books on the shelf: gray and deep blue, etched with old tired frustration and a long, eventful life.

---

Switch stood with her weight on one leg, hands in her cloak pockets. "Okay," she said with a nonchalant shrug, grinning. "You're you, man, you be you, do whatever you want. The city's crumbling to the ground and everyone in it is about to die if they're not dead already. The food's poisoned, the water's poisoned, there's no one to call for help because the city's self-sustaining -- but hey, you're a big boy, you can make your way on your own. Just think, now you won't have to pay those thugs back."

With the same grin, she leaned back against the wall, keeping herself between Ronken and the only exit. She placed a cigarette between her lips, and -- after the click and bright cupped glow of a lighter -- exhaled a slow smoky breath.

"Listen. Ronken, right?" She tilted her head at him. "You're infected. I hate to break it to you, but eventually you're gonna look like me, so get used to it now. I gave you a pendant." She gestured at a string necklace that hung around his throat, threaded with a round reddish stone with a rune carved into it. "It's slowing down the spread of the Crystalline. Don't take it off. Again," she took another puff of the cigarette, "you're welcome." A small smile crossed her thin face. "There's stuff that people like us are pretty good at. You can say we walk the edge between dreams and reality. I brought you back 'cause I think you're capable of a lot more than you like to let on."

She took out the box of cigarettes and held it out to him, grinning.

---

A burst of hot steam hissed out of a broken pipe and billowed into the darkened road. A rat darted into an alley where a woman's corpse was sprawled. Vacant windows gaped lifelessly. A robot sat broken on the street corner, creaking as it raised and lowered its arm brokenly. At the other end of the street, a house burned; black smoke blanketed the sun.

There were traces of demon-soot everywhere -- Feela's quarry had certainly died here, but the corpses had gone.

Footsteps rushed down the adjoining street ahead. A small boy with black hair, a wool jacket and a gas-mask ran full-tilt into the crossroads, where he skidded and turned around, breathing heavily. He spotted Feela and stopped, stunned by her strange appearance.

"What are you doing?" he called urgently, his voice muffled by the mask. He beckoned to her with a hand. "Come on! We have to get to the shelter! You'll miss out on the rations! Have you seen anyone else?"

[User]
Feela backed away from the steam, remembering that it could burn her. Why these strange people kept the steam from their cooking pots in tubes baffled her, but wasn't worth figuring out. The smell of fresh death and burned Dark-folk filled the air here, and she found herself feeling foolish for having charged into this place for nothing. Just as she was about to turn back, a boy with a frightening black mask ran up to her and started making sounds at her. For a moment, Feela couldn't make sense of the noises, but before long an old part of her mind, long unused, started waking up again. Still, there were words she couldn't puzzle out in the things the boy said.

"Raas-or?" She said, trying to force the words out of her long unused voice. Frustrated by her failure, she screwed up her face and tried again. "Whaaaat es ah raaas-un?" The words came slowly to her memory, and didn't sound quite right, but she thought she had gotten close. Using words again felt strange, like the first time she had used her folk-weapons. Realizing the boy was still waving his hand at her, Feela followed uncertainly. She was lost and confused and more than a little scared. Dark-folk she could fight, but this place and it's baffling features were something else entirely.

[Assistant]
Meryn swayed on her feet, disoriented. And tired. But then was that really a surprise after the day she'd had? She'd barely had time to glance around the tower's interior though, when a voice cracked through the air. Heart in her throat, Meryn spun to see an unimpressed, unimpressive old man holding a book like he meant to club her with it. But then he saw her mask.

Spook.

He knew Spook. He had answers. He'd know what to do.

A flash of movement above caught her eye though and Meryn looked up to see the dreams of the three runners getting closer. Right. She was being chased. People were shooting at her. She'd just lead someone to his death after losing her friends and Spook and bringing a fatal disease to a town and now people were actively trying to kill her, she didn't have time to explain to him, to tell him how dangerous the situation was –

But… but maybe she could. Meryn ripped off the mask.

Standing before him was a girl with wide, pale eyes. There were speckles of dried blood on her face, though it was impossible to tell if it was hers or not. Her hair was a long black mess, an unraveling braid only held together by knots and tangles. Her bare clothes – a frayed undershirt with a thick dark stain near her waist where it stuck to her skin, and a pair of pants with one leg ripped off below the knee – hung on her stunted frame after a childhood of too little to eat. She was a mess of dirt, sweat, and blood, her urgency electrifying the air with every frantic breath she took.

Meryn darted forward, mask in hand. She thrust it up to the man's face, nearly hitting his nose, the eye holes as accurate as she could get them. He'd see her dreams. She hoped. Would he know what they meant? Would he know she was terrified?

Every muscle was tense as she held the mask in a quivering hand, heavy breaths pushing her chest up and down. She could only stare at the old man through the eyes of the mask as her teeth bit into her lower lip and her eyebrows pulled together.

There was thump on the roof of the bell tower. It was followed by two more. Meryn jumped back, glancing up. She was out of time. She could barely hear over the thundering in her ears as she dove for the closest hiding spot she could find: the shadowed corner directly under the spiraling staircase. She gripped Oliver's bell when it chimed with her movement. Meryn pressed herself into a tiny ball, tired muscles aching for rest. There was a pounding in her head. She couldn't keep this pace. She couldn't keep going like this.

A runner hit the first step on the stairs.

Meryn pressed her eyes shut, clenching her jaw. She'd get through this. She had to get through this. Her hands were balled so tightly that they shook with the strain.

The second runner entered.

She pulled Spook's mask back over her face and opened her eyes again. She forced out a silent, quivering breath. Her eyes were trained on her old boot, like she was afraid to face whatever was coming for her.

The third.

Meryn finally looked up to see… the delivery guy? She blinked.

There was no doubt: those were his dreams she could see through the wall. But they looked… ok? Certainly less lifeless than they'd been when he'd fallen. Heck, they looked even better than they'd been before that. And from their position they even looked like he was standing rather than laying flat, leaking on the ground.

The runners' quick steps reverberated down the staircase to Meryn's hiding spot.

The crumpled letter that had been in her bag lay where it'd fallen on the ground at the foot of the stairs, unnoticed.


[System]
...his friends call him Turk.

Age: 46

Race: Urloj, A race of reptilian humanoids.

Appearance: He stands at about six feet, with a spindly thin frame and long arms. His face structure looks like that of an amphibious dinosaur. He has large, shiny, yellow reptilian eyes and small slit nostrils and a head that extends forward. Other than that, he is a bipedal upright standing humanoid. His skin is composed of red and orange scales that aren't very slimy at all, but upon contact with water his scales stay wet for a long time. Such is life for a cold-blooded species. His hands have webbed, clawed fingers that are very dexterous, and from his mouth a long, snake-like tongue can curl forth.

Personality: Turk is an experienced Urloj, and with his experiences comes a sort of wisdom. He may not be smart or educated, but has a lot of something called common sense. He's not very literate, and he doesn't know a lot about your fancy pants magic, but he can start a fire, tie a knot and sail a ship just fine, if you ask him. He's not at all ambitious, instead choosing to enjoy the simple things in life. That being said, he's very patriotic, and has is very keen on representing his country in this new land. He's rough around the edges but isn't mean-spirited.

Abilities:

Turk, as an Urloj, is naturally and extremely talented at swimming.

Turk is a carnivore, diet consisting of raw fish and insects as his diet.

He's cold blooded, which means he does need to occasionally stop and rest in the sun.

He's a trained veteran sailor of the Urlojian Royal Navy.

Another trait of the Urloj is being able to hold their breath for a very, very long time.

Salvaged Item: A small dagger, perfect for cutting ropes and knots on a ship.

History: Turk grew up in a small fishing town outside the Capitol of Urlojgoka. He led a very rural existence, and really was a perfect patriot of his country which he had grown to love and respect. To protect his homeland from any and all threats, he joined the Royal Urlojian Navy, the finest Navy in the world. He protected the coast for a long while, and would have climbed high up the ranks had he accepted the promotions. No, Turk said he wasn't fit to lead, even though every crew respected him onboard the ships he sailed. He much preferred to raise the sails himself. When the call went out for a crew to sail to the new world, Turk was more than willing to step on board The Arrowhead.

Nation of Origin: Urlojgoka

Nation Lore: Urlojgoka is a nation comprised mostly of archipelago, to the north-east of the rest of the continent. It is one of the smallest nations, with only a few million people inhabiting the warm waters. Thousands and thousands of years ago, they were but a collection of warring tribes battling each other with long canoes, jumping into the water to do battle under the waves. They have since been united, but there is still remnants of these long lost days in the culture of modern Urlojgoka; for a popular sport revolves around two teams in canoes attempting to capsize the other.

A great admiral and warlord known as Uurgu (a name which has found derivatives of itself in many families last name, such as Turk's) united the islands and founded Urlojgoka. From there they expanded, eventually taking claim to the rest of the other islands. It was not as easy, for the native species of the island were savage evolutionary off spring from the Urloj. The Urloj became victorious over their counterparts a decade later, as a result they developed powerful naval ships to assist them in their conquests.

Since then, they have stayed mostly to their own business, defending their territory with one of the largest navies in the world. During times of war, several nations attempted to take the resource-rich islands for themselves, but all failed in the end. Only one invasion managed to get to the Capitol city, and in an event that is still sung about today, twenty thousand Urlojian militia men and guards swam to the water and overran the enemy ships by climbing up the hulls and killing the crew on board.

During times of peace, they spend most of their time exporting valuable sea-goods like pearls and exotic foods that most other nations don't have regular access too. It's quite a sight to see all of a civilian ship's crew leap overboard to look for underwater natural treasures.

Other: He has a strange, rough but bubbly accent.

[User]
Distracted from her frustrations, momentarily, by the appearance of the eastern fox woman, the smallish high elven girl turned to face her fully. The taller girl was dripping wet, soaked just as she had been moments ago. After a few moments of silence, Irial sighed, narrowing her eyes slightly as she did.

"What do I look like, a towel?" she asked, irritation in her voice. Irial wasn't exactly keen on being seen as some sort of utility that anyone could walk up to and use any time they wanted. And yet, well, the Dry spell was a simple one. Any race with magical potential had devised it at some point, and therefore Irial had never become accustomed to casting a more generically named version. No, it had remained in the old tongue, as translation had never been required.

"Ephix Tann," she commanded, flatly, as the orb of blue-grey light formed in the palm of her hand once more. Just as it has done for herself, the twisting light drew the water off of the kitsune, drying her entirely. Just as before, Irial tossed the orb away, not even looking where it landed. It was just water, after all. It's not like anything out in the open could get more wet. The problem with the spell was the difficulty in targeting. 'Maer'(self) and 'Tann'(other). Desginating a specific target rather then 'person closest to the caster' was pretty much impossible. Oh well.

"Don't go expecting that sort of treatment if you get yourself soaked again," Irial added, waving her staff as she did in an illustrative fashion. "I'm not here for the sake of stupid mistakes."

She glanced at the boat. Good, it looked like strong people were going there. Irial herself was, well, particularly useless when it came to physical feats. She could, however, use magic to assist in locating items. Lifting and moving them herself? Not only was it nearly impossible for her to do so with anything heavy, but she hated doing it as well.

"... You do... whatever. I'm going to the boat."

[Assistant]
The group of survivors had apparently decided to split itself between two groups--well, three, if they counted that Turk guy diving back into the ocean for some food--which didn't much worry Masaru, in all honesty. At times like these, too many people working on a task was bound for disaster. How did that saying go again? "Too many chefs ruin the pot" or something? Bah, it wasn't as if he was one for proverbs, anyhow.

So... That garuda, the antman, the hunter, and that grumpy little elf had decided to tag along with him to the shipwreck, while everyone that wasn't Turk (or, well, that kitsune girl) had gone off to salvage supplies from the wilds near the beach. He could live with that; after all, it wasn't as if checking that ruined hull out would be an easy job.

"We should probably meet back here once we're all done with whatever it is we're doing. If anyone finds a good place to set up base, bring us there after we return. Won't get us all unless we're all here, right?"

Without asking for any further comments as he walked along, Masaru found it a shorter walk than he had anticipated to get to the ruins of The Arrowhead that had been brought to shore. Well... At least it had washed ashore and not been stuck at the bottom of the sea, right? That hunter had been gathering driftwood from the area soon after waking up (which Masaru found to be kind of a weird thing to do instead of checking for a functional body), so at the very least it was safe to assume that the storm that had tossed everyone off had taken place... Well, close enough to shore.

Damn, that sucked. So close, too.

Standing in front of the wooden vessel now, Masaru noticed that there was a gaping hole in the side of it that was large enough to fit a few people through at once. While convenient, the oni could only imagine how bad the damage was inside.

"Hold on; let me check things out first," he said, holding up a hand before stepping into the shipwreck. Light was filtering into the ship now, thanks to the sun's position and the multitude of holes in the ship. Well... At least it meant that nobody would be stepping on anything nasty any time soon.

"Alright, we're good. Check the place out; we've got a long ways to go."

Upon closer inspection, the place was a freaking MESS. Boxes holding supplies of all sorts were splayed out, the supplies within now tossed all over the ground or missing altogether. As much as this sort of development was to be expected, the fact that it was all still gone now was... Painful.

"Careful, though; broken glass all over the place. I think this was where they were keeping some of the more delicate stuff, so I think there might be a chance that something was kept safe enough for the ride," Masaru sighed, holding a now-shattered bottleneck that somehow managed to still give off the smell of liquor. "...Sadly can't say much about this, though."

Shaking his head, Masaru carefully placed the material to the side before continuing to (slowly) sift through the debris. Alcohol, though...

Maybe they had also kept the food here too? That would be REALLY helpful. But... Well, hopefully it didn't get the taste of the sea soaked into it or get eaten or something else by now. That would seriously... Not be good.

[User]
Yukine looked down and frowned when Irial snapped at her about not being a towel. The kitsune hadn't expected her crew mates to be in the best mood, but this was the second time in a matter of minutes that someone was being rude to her. Hopefully this was just a product of everybody being in a bad mood and not a sign of things to come. However, Yukine's eyes lit up when the elf actually decided to be a pal and dry her off. "Yay!" She exclaimed once the water was removed and tossed away. She giggled and did a little twirl. "Thank you! It feels so much better now." She gave Irial a solemn nod when the elf warned her that this was basically a one-time deal, and then she said, "Okay, I'll be careful. I won't waste your generosity." She gave the elf a small bow and then grinned. "And I promise I'll return the favor as soon as I get the chance. We'll probably be spending a lot of time together so I hope we can become good friends."

Yukine was about to offer the elf her hand, but then Irial reminded her what she had wanted to do in the first place. "Oh right! The boat!" With that, she happily skipped through the sand, joining the salvage party and ignoring the soreness in her limbs. Things looked pretty bad, but the one thing she couldn't complain about was the fact that this was already shaping up to be an exciting adventure. Masaru was the first person to enter the wreckage, and then gave the okay to follow him into the ship.

Yukine placed her feet carefully. She had lost her sandals on the boat, and was now walking around barefoot; while her training had given her somewhat calloused feet, a shard of glass was the last thing she wanted to step on. She cautiously sifted through the wreckage, her frown growing ever deeper as she saw all the soaked and ruined supplies. The gravity of the situation suddenly began to sink in on the kitsune. They had no tools, no materials, no food... Screw building anything, they would be lucky if they found what they needed to survive. Just as she was about to abandon hope on finding anything useful, though, she saw a glint of metal.

Yukine pushed several boxes out of the way and started shoving some rubble aside. Then, she let out a sudden shriek. "Ewwww!" She looked around at the rest of the salvaging crew, and gave a nervous laugh, realizing she might have alarmed them. "Hehe... no worries. Just touched a slime ball." She used a broken board to scrape away the sea slime, and then huffed as she moved a heavy beam out of the way. There was her prize. Miraculously in tact, a small scythe that she brought along as part of the farming equipment. "Hmm, it would have been better if it was a hoe, but it'll be useful... if we can grow anything. Hey guys, I think some farming stuff might have been around here. Did any of the seeds make it?" She pulled her scythe out of the rubble and hopped down off of the pile of garbage to see if anyone needed help moving anything.

[Assistant]
Turk's feet no longer touched the underwater sand and were in free float. The familiar sounds of water all around him would be comforting, but these waters were unfamiliar. It'd be a long time before he would feel competent in the new oceans. A transparent eyelid slid over his eyes when he entered the water- a neat trick that had proved useful to his people for countless generations.

The water was chilly, to say the least. He pushed himself deeper. Pieces of wooden debris would occasionally float past, as well as stray furnishings. A busted barrel rolled along the sand towards the deep ocean, where it vanished into the distant blue fog. There were a few crustaceans crawling about digging at things. Small fish fluttered forth in little schools, darting to and fro. They were thin and green, and far too tiny of a morsel to eat, and even too tiny to grab easily.

The fish darted away, and Turk saw the cause. A bigger fish, around the same size as a trout, came into view. Turk was floating underwater, almost completely still, to avoid startling the his prey. The trout fish came a little closer, and Turk kicked off of the sand mound and leaped after the trout. It avoided his grasp and swam away. Boo.

Turk broke the surface of the water with his head, and glanced around. The endless ocean curved at the horizon in front of him, and when he turned around he saw a few of his companions picking through the wreckage. He was a little farther away from them now. Unsheathing his dagger from his holster, he took another breath and dove under the waves.