[System]
Rank: Spartan. Lieutenant prior to the end of the Human-Covenant war.

Species: Human (Spartan III)

Appearance: Generation 2 Mjolnir Armor, colored black with a dark-tinted visor. (I can look up the exact details of his accessories from the MCC gear list.)

Skills: Excellent sniper, although as with all Spartans, Ben is trained in the use of most if not all UNSC equipment.

Preferred Weapons: SRS99-S5 AM sniper rifle, Covenant sniper weapons (when available), M319 grenade launcher.

Background: Entered service in 2545, having been born on the planet [Censored]. As with all Spartan-IIIs, Ben was orphaned at a young age when the Covenant attacked his planet, glassing the surface. Early on, he was singled out for his skills as a sniper, along with extreme levels of loyalty and a willingness to carry out any order given to him, even those which required him to turn of his own friends and allies. As such, Ben was assigned to the Spartan-III Security operations group, an organization so secretive, even other Spartans weren't made aware of it.

As part of Sec Ops, Ben was nominally a part of Beta company for some years, switching to Alpha and Gamma on occasion. He achieved an exemplary number of kills and was never part of a failed mission. As such, he advanced to the commissioned ranks quickly, becoming a lieutenant by the year 2552. None of the other Spartans knew that he was part of Security Operations, or what his real missions were, for while he still had the same objectives on each mission as the rest of the team he was assigned to, his real goal was to keep the other Spartans in line, report any dissent, and execute any member of the Spartan program who displayed treasonous behavior, cowardice, or put UNSC security at unnecessary risk. His authority for execution also extended as far as the normal UNSC military forces, a fact kept well off the books. It also extended to witnesses to any event which if reported, could jeopardize the political or military aims of the UNSC.

After the end of the Human-Covenant war, Security Operations was reformed into Epsilon company, and retroactively given all of the trappings of a normal UNSC Spartan-III company as if it had been active since the start of the Spartan-III program. Now that the Spartan-IV program has begun, no more members of Epsilon are being added, and members of the company are often combined or sent to participate in larger groups which are formed as the situation demands.

[User]
Spartan Lucas Ryker

Making the medic the Team Lead...alright, well, seen stranger things in my life. Lucas hadn't spoken again over the course of the briefing, choosing instead to absorb the information about the mission and only whistling quietly when Shih gave them a holographic look at the sheer size of Sarcophagus. The SPARTAN-IV had been on several missions both inside and on the surface of that Forerunner dome and it always amazed him that they'd pulled off getting it built before originally firing the rings. With the briefing finishing shortly after, and after reassurances that the Flood weren't present within the installation, which Ryker wasn't sure if he believed or not, the team was dismissed with the naming of Aviza as Fire Team Leader. He had no reason to delay heading to the Falcon other than to let the Mgalekgolo get on first.

The Pelican ride was quiet, as no one yet wanted to break the social ice, but then he couldn't say he was surprised. Aviza was likely mentally preparing herself to be in charge in the upcoming mission, the other two Spartans likely SPARTAN-IIIs and weren't keen on conversation anyways and the former Black Ops operative wanted nothing to do with the pair of ONI spooks unless he absolutely had to, he'd left ONI for valid reasons and he wasn't about to answer questions about his past with the Office of Naval Intelligence from people who didn't need to know.

So while they were in transit between the landing pad the Pelican had started on and the UNSC Chorus of Thunder, he simply enjoyed the view. He had decided that he would learn the most about their Swords allies once they had all settled in on the Heavy Cruiser and were able to get some training together in. [i]Actually...they had the module installed already, so maybe we CAN get some training in, perhaps some one on one custom games or something. At the very least, I'm gonna run some combat sims, keep acclimating to this dagger that a Spec Ops Sangheili had given him after a few missions together. Her name was Comi'Masam, one of the leaders for a Swords of Sangheilios Spec Ops squad operating in another part of the Arm of Orion. His previous fire team, Regis, had worked in tandem with them for several months shutting down a series of Covenant Remnant operations and cells. During that time, she'd helped him improve his skill as an assassin and with the twin energy daggers he used and before he'd left, had gifted him a more traditional energy dagger to aid in completing his missions with Aegis team.

While romantic attraction wasn't his cup of tea, the Sangheili female had earned his trust in a way no one since he'd joined ONI had and he considered her a close friend. When Spartan Ops had asked for recommendations for Aegis from his previous post, they had been somewhat surprised that her name was the one he'd put forwards. When asked why he didn't put forwards other members from Regis Team, his answer had been simple. "These are war vets who fought the Covenant for nearly two decades before the War ended. Most of them could barely stand the Spec Ops team and that was a series of joint operations. Asking them to have to take orders from one of them on occasion?" SPARTAN Ops had let the issue lie and said they'd talk with the Swords.

As he felt the Pelican begin to settle down on the hangar deck aboard the Chorus, the SPARTAN-IV flexed his wrist experimentally, igniting the blade of the dagger. "Never get tired of that..." He gave a couple of small swings and thrusts with it before he deactivated it and looked around as the loading ramp lowered. Aviza was first off and headed to the Mess Hall, leaving an open invitation for the others to join her if they wished, but Lucas was sticking to his plan.

"Right, well, you have fun with that Fire Team Leader. I'm heading to the War Games module, get some training in before the mission starts. Gotta get adjusted to some newer equipment and it never hurts to stay sharp."

[Assistant]
Vael 'Virisusai

---

Vael took a brief moment to review his map of the ship. It was detailed to the extent that it showed him the path to each place he would need to go as a passenger. The cruiser was of comparable size to a CCS-class battlecruiser, though somewhat smaller. Regardless, he doubted he would have need to see most of it.

Briefly, Vael considered simply waiting in the quarters he had been given until they arrived. Provided what the Captain had said was true, everything that he was bringing with him was already in his quarters, aside from his weapons. He had multiple sets of armor with him, including the one he was wearing, another environmentally-sealed combat harness, and another that he kept for…sentimental reasons. Checking over his equipment was an option, but ultimately, he felt that the time he had could be used more productively. These "War Games" did have Vael's interest. From what he understood, they could simulate combat situations with surprising accuracy. He was skeptical that it could truly compare to battle itself, but he could see its value in training. Several of the others seemed to intend to use the simulator while they could, but while Vael did want to see his team in combat, he decided that it was important that he take some time to speak with Spartan Aviza. She was the Fireteam Leader for their mission, but they were both leaders of this team, and it was their responsibility to ensure they guided their team efficiently.

Vael gave a brief glance to Spartan Ryker. He appeared to have integrated an energy dagger into his armor. The Humans had began integrating reverse-engineered Covenant technology into their own, though in this case, it appeared to be an energy dagger taken from a Sangheili harness and integrated into his own. While Sangheili did place special importance on the energy sword, a simple dagger did not carry the same cultural weight. Though, it was his opinion that the Spartan embarrassed himself by swinging it around like a child playing with a knife.

In any case, Vael put away his data pad and followed after Aviza. He remained wordless at first, but did eventually turn his head down towards her as he walked alongside her. "We should speak about our team, Spartan. I fear it shall be to our detriment that we will not have the chance to train sufficiently as a unit before this mission."

[User]
Grikgar /Grik/ Seeker
// Unggoy Ultra // Demolitions and Artillery //

Hearing the good news that it was unlikely that he would have to face off against any of the parasite relived him. Did that mean that he still didn't have to worry? Not really but at least he could relax a little. It would seem the first phase of their mission would be recon then move into search and destroy with the possibility of all out combat with the brutes. Grikgar could only hope he could get the opportunity to rally the other Unggoy with the brutes to fight against them. Still if they didn't, he had no problem killing all of them.

The captain and the others seemed rather interested and in a hurry to get off planet. He couldn't blame them really he was also excited to get back into the thick of it. Boarding the pelican and finding an uncomfortable spot next to the Spartan that called himself Ben. A rather bumpy and quiet ride for the most part, Grikgar was happily bobbing his head from side to side listening to some human music he was sure was loud enough to be heard through his helmet. Grik didn't care, this whole experience was exciting to him.

It wasn't too much longer and they had landed, the Spartan Aviza was the first off the pelican but didn't seem to be in as much of a hurry as the other two humans. He was unsure exactly why they were with them but o well, humans are weird. A simple map of the ship displayed briefly on his visor with a small point that marked where he was and another that marked his room. The design of the ship was strange and the exterior of the ship matched the interior, all these human ships lacked color and design. Every ship in the former covenant was a work of art in shape and color. However, he figured it was a luxury the humans couldn't afford.

The female Spartan spoke up again, something about a mess hall and food. Food was definitely something he could get behind. He was unsure of the mess hall though, "Why do Spartans eat in a messy hall?" he asked not really speaking to anyone in general. The Unggoy almost happily waddling slowly behind his commander as he followed them out of the pelican and down the corridor towards the messy hall.

[Assistant]
Ben made a bit of room for Grikgar, something he wouldn't have normally done for another Spartan unless he was outranked, and even then, not always. He walked with the Unggoy, finding that he strangely didn't mind the alien, despite having put countless bullets into the heads of Grik's fellow Grunts during the war. And plasma blasts. And grenades. And Ben had beaten more than a few Grunts to death with his weapon, including some which were asleep at the time.

"It's just a name. We prefer to keep it very clean. Take care you don't leave any footprints on the floors. They didn't take Unggoy equipment into account when building it. Also, I'm not entirely sure they'll have food you can eat in the mess hall itself, but they should have brought some food for you aboard the ship. You can have whatever you want, I suppose, just try not to make a mess, please." Without saying another word, he activated Phong and then let the AI figure out what he needed to know. Even when turned "off", Phong still recorded every word Ben spoke within range of his helmet's microphone, and would have deduced that he wanted to know if there was anything an Unggoy could consume in the mess hall. Even a dumb AI had deductive capacities, after all.

"My files on Unggoy anatomy are extensive, yet details are somewhat sparse on the workings on their digestive systems. Still, there should be no problem if an Unggoy ingests most human beverages, and they should be able to digest human foods with a liquid base such as soup. Would you like to see a list of possible allergens, or a list of foodstuffs native to-?" It was almost like a father having to vet a cafeteria for his son. Ben turned Phong "off" once more mid-sentence, insofar as such a setting was honestly labeled.

"When we're done eating, I'll head to the AR deck for training. I don't know what they had in the Covenant, but it's probably not the same thing." It dawned on Ben that the Covenant might very well have had more advanced training decks and that this could very well be a downgrade in Grikgar's eyes.


[System]
Age:
28

Gender:
Female

Race:
Human

Nationality:
Orlesian

Group Affiliation:
Inquisition

Occupation:
Bard (Assassin)

Equipment/Weapons:
Erika has a balanced longbow with an ice enchantment and her quiver of bows that sits comfortably on her back. At her side, a satchel sways slightly with her gait, it's contents vary from day to day. On her hip is a leather sheath, within it lies a silver dagger, ornate with Ferelden engravings.

Bio:
Erika was born in Orlais, though she never grew up to live a prestigious life as most do in the empire. The endless balls, parties, dinners, and formals were never Erika's form of entertainment, though being the daughter of two Fereldan merchants didn't leave much room for extravagant outings anyways. Instead, she spent her younger years with her older brother, aiding their parents with their shops and managing their goods. Her father was a weapons merchant, which up until the start of the civil war, brought in mediocre revenue. On the other hand, her mother played right into the Orlesian aristocrat's hands (and coin purses), by selling them beautiful and ornate garments and accessories. Her mother's business made up for her father's lack thereof, so the four were able to live a comfortable life.

As Erika got older, she grew bored of the merchant life. Sure, the trips the family would take into Val Royeaux for the market were exciting, but not nearly enough for a teen with a wandering soul. When her older brother left to join the Templars, Erika was truly left alone to suffer an unfulfilling life. This led Erika to grow resentful of the big whigs in Val Royeaux who pranced around without a care in the world, money flaunting everywhere while other people, like her parents, were left to work a hard life just to get by.

On her eighteenth birthday, Erika finally got the nerve to tell her parents that she was leaving Orlais to travel, first to Ferelden to see the place where her parents were born and raised. She was met with protest, but eventually, even they agreed that they could not keep her tied down. Erika left with nothing more than a rucksack on her shoulder and a dagger at her hip (a parting gift from her father). She headed down the dirt road from her home, and when she came to the end, the way to Ferelden would be on her left. Instead, she went right. To Val Royeaux.

Erika spent the next six years training as a bard near Val Royeaux. Bards were prominent in Orlais, and she found no better way to get back at the Orlesian aristocracy than to learn to pry apart every little secret that they had. She became proficient with a bow, though her father's dagger was still kept at her hip in a sheath. Erika first did freelance work, spying on whoever for whomever would pay her. Eventually, she was able to gather more noble assignments from the Chantry or the Templars, though the work of a bard can rarely be considered honorable by many people. The life of a spy suited her, and the shadows became her home. For Erika, this was her freedom.

[User]
Watching the two members of the Inquisition jump as if they'd just entered the fade without realizing, Nolan suppressed his amusement - figuring this was not the best time to laugh at two mysterious individuals he'd just met. Shifting his gaze over to Clara as his companions scrutinized her, Nolan took a few moments to process the dwarf's comment in regards to his staff, looking to the implement which he still held in his right hand - now that they were off the trail, it seemed far less practical to be holding it as he hung his staff over his back instead, keeping his left hand held open, further away from himself now and more toward his companion as he'd warmed himself at least well enough.

As the two commented on his crest, Nolan looked down toward it in a manner akin to if he'd just been informed he'd forgotten his trousers. Studying it for half a moment, he looked back up to the others in time for the woman's comment, shrugging. "Will of the Maker, perhaps?" Considering the fact that neither Clara, the woman or the dwarf had made any effort to murder one another yet, Nolan figured that perhaps the situation was safe and took a step or two forward to stand alongside her, as opposed to the defensive position he'd held behind her. As the woman began to explain herself and the dwarf, he'd raise an eyebrow. "Inquisition, hm?" He went for a moment to make some snide comment about how it was odd that the Inquisitor's will was to kill Templars, but then he remembered the actual purpose he and his companion were there, and he shut himself up.

Deciding to take it upon himself to provide the explanation for their being there, he glance over to Clara, figuring she'd fill in any gaps he left out. He was about to begin when the suggestion was given by the Orlesian, Nolan giving another sidelong glance toward Clara, not even bothering to suppress his amusement at the notion as he let out a hearty laugh. "Mage and Templar? That sounds like something out of Hard in Hightown." Continuing to utter a few brief chuckles at the notion, Nolan would eventually gather himself, and continue with their explanation. "Well, myself - Nolan, by the way - and my companion here, Knight-Lieutenant Clara, are, or rather - were - here for some..." He paused, thinking of the best way to describe it. "Aggressive negotiations."

Glancing toward the cave-in once more, Nolan cleared his throat. "However - it would appear as though you have done our job for us and uh... 'Convinced' the Templars here to stop living, so uh... Well done on that, we'll still take the reward for it if you don't mind." While he hadn't exactly explained the specifics of their overall goal, he felt he'd explained enough for the time being, after all, he hadn't exactly lied at all...

[Assistant]
@The Kraken@vFear
"However - it would appear as though you have done our job for us and uh... 'Convinced' the Templars here to stop living, so uh... Well done on that, we'll still take the reward for it if you don't mind."

Flint let out a deep bellowing laugh, the body shaking display of humor literally causing various beads interwoven into his beard to jangle noisily against his metal breastplate. He immediately liked the mage, or at the very least was doing a somewhat convincing display of acting like he did. "I like the way this one talks." Flint spat in a hushed tone while giving a sideways glance and toothy grin towards Erika. The brief look only lasted a second but in that amount of time Flint was able to get across to Erika that he indeed saw no threat from this random pair-likewise he quickly studied her expression well aware that she had reached a somewhat similar conclusion. It was the unspoken bond rarely seen in partners that had worked far to many high risk jobs together in the past.

After laughing over the implausibility of the two newcomers being a pair the man who Flint would come to know as Nolan went on to more properly introduce himself. "Well, myself - Nolan, by the way - and my companion here, Knight-Lieutenant Clara, are, or rather - were - here for some..." He paused, thinking of the best way to describe it. "Aggressive negotiations."

Glancing toward the cave-in once more, Nolan cleared his throat. "However - it would appear as though you have done our job for us and uh... 'Convinced' the Templars here to stop living, so uh... Well done on that, we'll still take the reward for it if you don't mind."

After listening to Nolan Flint let out another toothy fit of laughter as he was prone to do when his mind began to formulate mischievous ideas.

Reward.

Reward.

Reward.

The words echoed within his head as he quickly spoke up in response. "Reward, eh? Everyone knows a dwarf can appreciate a man wanting his well deserved reward. Am I right, Erika?" he asked rhetorically while getting a nod in confirmation from his companion. "What if I could offer you both an even bigger reward though?" He slung his shield over the makeshift prongs on the back of his armor, the small protuding pieces of metal allowing him to neatly keep his shield clung to his back. Likewise he dropped his mace between a similar looking contraption on his belt, the inverted slots of metal allowing his mace to fall into a wedge of sorts that kept the deadly weapon secured tightly against his hip.

Making his way over to Nolan far faster then his little legs should have been able to carry his metal encased body Flint slung his arm over the man as if the two were old friends, the odd sight looking even more comical due to Flints small stature. "So Nolan, names Flint by the way-big fan of the wardens-Who isn't though, amiright? Anyways, what if I could offer you all an even bigger reward? Me and my friend here well, we are both quite the, uhm, how did you put it?" He paused momentarily locking eyes with Nolan while sporting his infectious toothy grin. "Aggressive negotiators. And it just so happens we have quite a bit of...uhm, negotiating to do with some undesireable types that have recently opened up a mine here." Using his large stocky frame Flint spun Nolan slightly so the odd pair was now facing Clara, Flints beady hazel eyes locking place with Clara's metallic visor in a way that garnered her full attention. "A lyrium mine. And we could always use another hand or two when it comes to negotiations-after all as I'm sure you know meetings of that sort usually get pretty heated. Perhaps we could arrange something that benefits all four of us? After all we do work for the Divine herself." Again Flints eyes particularly lit up when mentioning the Divine to Clara, as if trying to make her feel like it was her duty to help out.

In all honesty Flint just wanted to lessen the chances he would be the one to take a fireball to the face today.

[User]
As the exchange led by the much more diplomatic Warden Nolan and the two odd companions went on in the tunnels, Clara grew visibly more easy: her stance grew straighter rather than braced and her shield arm would come to dip, both fatigued by holding up for so long and interpreting a reduced risk of attack. As far as she interpreted Nolan was handling the exchange well, so she kept quiet and played her part as the Templar of the party; she wasn't so zealous to be blind to the fact that her faith could bring a worse outcome.

It was at approximately this point that Clara tightened her grip on the hilt of her longsword:
"Reward, eh? Everyone knows a dwarf can appreciate a man wanting his well deserved reward. Am I right, Erika? What if I could offer you both an even bigger reward though?" began the dwarf, bringing Clara's mind straight to concluding the dwarf was suggesting paying off her and her companion. Who do they take us for? Paying off a Grey Warden and a Templar!? her thoughts rung within her head - although thankfully not for long enough before the dwarf kept talking. "...it just so happens we have quite a bit of...uhm, negotiating to do with some undesireable types that have recently opened up a mine here." Clara eased somewhat at this, starting to put together what the dwarf is truly suggesting - or at least by her interpretation. As the dwarf looked to her, she looked down upon him - indeed, her full attention gathered. "A lyrium mine." She didn't catch the rest of the dwarf's sentence - at the mention of lyrium, having gone some time without a dose, her senses distorted and the skin under her eyelid began to twitch. She craved a dose of lyrium, her nose began to twitch in anticipation; her lyrium sand was in her kit, after all, which w-

Clara suddenly brought her shield down, bringing it harshly into her left thigh. The sudden pain brought her back to her senses, in time to catch the rest of the sentence.
"...benefits all four of us? After all we do work for the Divine herself." the dwarf suggests, to which Clara nods in response as she lifts her longsword to slide it back into her scabbard now she's content the situation is safe.
"I imagine we could, Dwarf Flint - what exactly is your title within the Inquisition, by the way?" She pauses before speaking further, "The Templar Order can use any source of lyrium for its knights in the war - although, when you say 'undesirable types', exactly who do you reference? Between the four of us I imagine what we are able to fight is quite broad, although I don't intend to fight Chevaliers or Dead Legionaries."

[Assistant]
The shift in tone that the conversation had taken- from nervously sarcastic to genuinely friendly- made Erika settle in her soggy boots even further. It appeared all was well between the four, even so far that Erika and Flint even took care of the two newcomer's job for them. At the mention of a reward Erika could practically hear the gears begin to turn in Flint's head as he began to talk. Erika had given a glance down at Flint, but found that he had already closed the distance between himself and Nolan, throwing his arm around the much taller Warden.

She nodded rather convincingly when asked about their own negotiating power with rewards and such, but left the rest of the talking to Flint, who was already on a roll with trying to convince these two here to help them out in taking down the mine. Well, its the least they could do after all the help Erika and Flint were with the Templars, right? Erika admired her partner's quick thinking, provided it would work. The Inquisition often contracted out mercenaries anyways, and they had yet to meet up with their other partner. They would probably need the extra hands after all the attention they had brought to themselves thus far. It might make for a nice story later after a few pints, but Erika had definitely seen cleaner missions.

When the Knight-Lieutenant finally spoke up, Erika found a spot to cut in at. "We are both Agents to Spy Master Leliana, and Ambassadors to the Inquisition." That sounded good, right? It wasn't a lie, either. Just... not exactly an awarded title. The Inquisition being a fledgling operation, such titles were reserved for only those of importance, such as Leliana. Both Erika and Flint were more than capable of representing the order, and felt comfortable doing so.

"As far as our enemy goes, I'm afraid it is the Venatori whom we must face. They've been mining red lyrium here on the Coast and the Divine wants it shut down before they have a chance to do anything with it. Not only that, but the locals have been reporting some strange happenings in the area as well. The plan was to get in and out quickly and discreetly, but thanks to our rogue Templar pals back there, I doubt that plan will serve us much purpose anymore. If we have to, we'll use the rest of Flint's handy dandy Gaatlok and blow the place in on itself and bury the bastards with it." She gave a shrug. "That should be our last resort, however. Don't worry, though. If you choose to help us, you'll be adequately compensated, as my friend here has promised."


[System]
Age:
16

Gender:
Male

Appearance:
Brad has the appearance of a meathead. Large (6'3") and bulky (208lbs), he can be quite intimidating, especially due to his upright posture that almost never bows. His dark brown skin contrasts with his short, shaggy blond hair. Not the kind that is filled with product to look like he just woke up; it's messier and less intentional. His dark brown eyes are often squinted, which lends to his scary look. The reason is he refuses to get glasses and figures he'll just adapt to it. However, puberty was not entirely kind to Brad as his face is riddled with acne, with some slight scarring when he used to scratch at it mercilessly.

Personality:
Brad is neither a gentle giant nor an aggressive goon. Brad is a very serious teen, filled with focus to do the best he can. He can often come across as standoffish, which while not his intention, isn't something he worries about fixing. He has a distaste for violence but admits it can have some useful applications in dire situations. He has high hopes for himself and is hopelessly stubborn. While he isn't often one to start joking around, he does jump in if someone else starts the silliness. He has a very set in stone view of morality and a weird reverence of 'the Light'. Together, they form his strict code of honour he holds himself (and often times others) to.

History:
Brad was born to an engineer and a stay-at-home dad, the second of four children. His parents taught him a very important lesson from a young age and that was to chase your dreams. After all, if you didn't, who would? Brad's dream was to become a professional football player, as a wide receiver. He had the speed and the strength to break through tackles, so it looked like a sure thing. Unfortunately, during a practice, he badly pulled a hamstring and, while in pain, got tackled in a way that concussed him. Doctors suggested he take on another dream. After months of heated arguments with his parents and doctors, Brad finally relented and returned to a back-up passion: Duel Monsters. He quite enjoyed playing Noble Knights, as he felt a certain connection with the honour of the knights. However, after being mocked for being so straight-forward, he decided that upon arrival at the Duel Tower, he would prove that he was as smart as he was tough.

Favorite Card/Archetype or theme:
Noble Knights / LIGHT Warriors

Chosen courses:
Standard Dueling, Standard Summoning

Chosen Structure Deck:
Space Invaders!

Custom Structure Deck List:
Monsters (20)
Des Feral Imp x 1
Gale Lizard x 1
Oshaleon x 1
Worm Apocalypse x 1
Worm Cartaros x 2
Worm Dimikles x 1
Worm Falco x 1
Worm Jetelikpse x 1
Worm King x 1
Worm Prince x 1
Worm Queen x 1
Worm Solid x 1
Worm Tentacles x 1
Worm Victory x 1
Worm Warlord x 1
Worm Xex x 2
Worm Yagan x 2
Spells (10)
Book of Eclipse x 2
Book of Moon x 1
Constellar Belt x 1
Forbidden Dress x 1
Molting Escape x 1
Mystical Space Typhoon x 1
Pot of Duality x 1
Worm Call x 1
Viper's Rebirth x 1
Traps (10)
Alien Brain x 1
Burst Rebirth x 1
Compulsory Evacuation Device x 1
Damage = Reptile x 1
Damage Gate x 1
Lumenize x 1
Offering to the Snake Deity x 1
Snake Whistle x 1
W Nebula Meteorite x 2
Extra (1)
King of Feral Imps x 1

Chosen Pack:
Duel Terminal 1

Current deck:
Monsters (20)
Alien Shocktrooper x 1
Des Feral Imp x 1
Gale Lizard x 1
Worm Apocalypse x 1
Worm Cartaros x 2
Worm Dimikles x 1
Worm Falco x 1
Worm Jetelikpse x 1
Worm King x 1
Worm Queen x 1
Worm Solid x 1
Worm Tentacles x 2
Worm Victory x 1
Worm Warlord x 1
Worm Xex x 2
Worm Yagan x 2
Spells (10)
Book of Eclipse x 2
Book of Moon x 1
Constellar Belt x 1
Forbidden Dress x 1
Mystical Space Typhoon x 1
Pot of Duality x 1
Viper's Rebirth x 1
W Nebula Call x 1
W Nebula Fusion x 1
Traps (10)
Alien Brain x 1
Burst Rebirth x 1
Compulsory Evacuation Device x 1
Damage = Reptile x 1
Damage Gate x 1
Lumenize x 1
Offering to the Snake Deity x 1
Snake Whistle x 1
W Nebula Meteorite x 2
Extra (2)
King of Feral Imps x 1
Worm Nebula Zero x 1

Collection:
Monsters (44)
Alien Shocktrooper x 1
Caravan of the Ice Barrier x 1
Chaos Emissary, Apprentice of Nox x 1
Chaos Emissary, Butterfly x 1
Chrysalis Chicky x 1
Deepspace Scout x 1
Deepspace Stunner x 1
Des Feral Imp x 1
Dewdark of the Ice Barrier x 1
Fabled Dyf x 1
Fabled Topi x 1
Final Apocalypse Dragon x 1
Flamvell Fiend x 1
Flint Lock x 2
Gale Lizard x 1
King Pyron x 1
Machina Fortress x 1
Oshaleon x 1
Phantom Cricket x 1
Phantom Dragonray Bronto x 1
R-Genex Oracle x 1
Reese the Ice Mistress x 1
Renge, Gatekeeper of Dark World x 1
Samurai of the Ice Barrier x 1
Volcanic Rat x 2
Worm Apocalypse x 1
Worm Cartaros x 2
Worm Dimikles x 1
Worm Falco x 1
Worm Illidan { The Betrayer } x 1
Worm Jetelikpse x 1
Worm King x 1
Worm Prince x 1
Worm Queen x 1
Worm Solid x 1
Worm Tentacles x 2
Worm Victory x 1
Worm Warlord x 2
Worm Xex x 2
Worm Yagan x 2
X-Saber Airbellum x 1
Spells (15)
Amulet of Ambition x 1
Book of Eclipse x 2
Book of Moon x 1
Chaos Emissary Sanctuary x 1
Constellar Belt x 1
Convert Contact x 1
Flint Missile x 1
Forbidden Dress x 1
Malevolent Nuzzler x 1
Molting Escape x 1
Mystical Space Typhoon x 1
Pot of Duality x 1
Summoner's Art x 1
The Clockwork Curator x 1
Viper's Rebirth x 1
W Nebula Fusion x 1
W Nebula Call x 1
Traps (16)
Alien Brain x 1
Black Horn of Heaven x 1
Burst Rebirth x 1
Compulsory Evacuation Device x 1
Counter Counter x 1
Damage = Reptile x 1
Damage Gate x 1
Destructive Draw x 1
Dust Tornado x 1
Gift Card x 1
Living on Borrowed Time x 1
Lumenize x 1
Offering to the Snake Deity x 1
Snake Whistle x 2
W Nebula Meteorite x 2
Extra (2)
King of Feral Imps x 1
Worm Nebula Zero x 1

Points:
0.

[User]
Maisy stared in a mix of shock and disappointment, shock at how quickly a Light Dorm student got beaten, but dissapointed because IT WAS OVER ALREADY!? Sighing in utter disbelief, she held her face in her hands, elbows poised in the center of her thighs. That kinda sucked. There weren't even any good pulls or Action cards to save someone from a pinch...absolutely no style or flair in any of it. If this was Standard rulings then yeah, it'd be a little more impressive, but Action Duels were just sorta different. At least to her. Where was the entertainment value of an opponent barely being able to retaliate? Placing her hands in her Uniform's pockets, Maisy got up without saying anything. She really wanted the thing to go on long enough that she'd find someone who she cheered for, or someone with good cheesy one-liners for special summonings that didn't blow.

Getting up, she felt nature call and trotted off to the bathroom, doing her business and washing her hands...noticing a somewhat odd looking girl with a normal looking wind-dorm uniform, save for it having a green hood. As the girl was washing her hands, she had a somewhat suspicious feeling that she'd seen someone similar...hmm. Scooting over slowly, she asked: "Heeey...are you a ninja? in the most blunt, straightforward, in her face way. Maisy knew all and saw all, and right now she saw a ninja in the bathroom. "...Crud, I think that was racist." was all that filled her mind afterwards.

[Assistant]
Akemi Ael

---

A long sigh drew out of her mouth after two occurrences; the first was Venwyn's unnecessary, lazy use of the magic they had been taught simply to get to the seats quicker, whilst the second time was at the pathetic excuse for an action duel that had been displayed before her. Sure, each side may good plays, but there wasn't anything much that separated it from a normal duel, so it just appeared as a really boring attempt to be something it wasn't. After which, Akemi realised that the gift of free time meant that people could be fought and packs could be bought, so naturally she face Lifebeater for the second time to arrive at the shop, tearing open six in total and finding a minuscule amount of Sylvan support, which was unfortunate. Despite this, she remained unvexed and put the few cards in her deck, some of which really complimented each other, for example the Gigantic Cephalotus made up for most of the useless cards she had received. It went so well with a deck that was based around sending plants to the grave!

The repeated journey across Lifebeater's scorched land once more took a toll on Akemi - she could feel burns beginning to form underneath her eyes, so her immediate response was to run to the bathroom in the arena and apply some cold water to the areas. The girl had to admit, it did help slightly, however for the most part she knew the inevitable was that they were eventually going to blister. Such sadness. The reflection that faced her in the mirror was one with scorn; disapproving of how useless the hood had been at providing shade successfully. The immediate and abrupt voice of the other girl almost caught Akemi off guard, if she had not sensed her arrival prior to her speaking. The question, whilst simple, actually made her laugh. For the first time in so many years, snorts and giggles erupted from her mouth continuously and it made her so happy. "Ahaha, I mean, y-yes, I am a ninja, I just found it hilarious that something my whole life had been based on was put to question. Not to be rude to you! It's not like I'm dressed that way currently or anything, so you made quite an astute observation! I'm Akemi, by the way, you probably saw my cousins Venwyn and Mary. The cold ninja and the non-ninja." A hand was stretched out towards Maisy, with a grin on her face.


[System]
Real: Skadi Türkis
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Age: 19
Nationality: Atlesian
Color: #6ecff6
Emblem: A clipart of a brilliant cut diamond
Voice actor: Shirley Manson

Themes:
Main - Neutral - Happy - Angry - Sad - Semblance - Fighting - Victorious - Defeated
Appearance:

Diamond is a rather tall woman with a lean build, being 178 centimeters tall. She's only as strong as she needs to be, having developed a physique for slipping into tight spots and blending in with the crowd. The woman weighs around 62 kilos with slightly lower than average percentage of body fat.

The dominant feature of her face are her eyes, which are sky blue and have a turquoise glow to them due to her dust implant. Her hair is golden in color and cut short, styled into backwards facing spikes. As a northerner from Atlas, Diamond's skin is very pale.

The dust implanted in her caused a blue pattern to develop on her back and an overuse left a crystalline blue weblike pattern on her right arm. If she uses her ice spells, these along with her eyes glow blue, and her eyes flash into white when casting a kinetic spell.

She doesn't wear a battledress in the traditional sense, preferring not to be hindered by armor of any sort. With her semblance and dust implant she also prefers to leave her arms exposed, usually wearing a pair of sturdy boots, pants and a vest.

Diamond carries herself with pride most of the time and makes good use of nonverbal communication, having learned the meaning of various gestures and being able to use them to convey a different meaning from what she is actually saying. In combat she moves with the fluidity of a gymnast.

History:
During a particularly nasty winter, a child was born to an uncaring mother who barely had enough mercy to leave the girl on the doorstep of the first house far enough. As it so happened a rather poor elderly woman lived there and upon finding the crying newborn took her in. She gave the girl the name Diamond due to her blue eyes.
Unfortunately, five years later Diamond's adoptive mother died, leaving the girl to fend for herself on the streets. A crafty little thing, she quickly found out that instead of begging for the food, it was easier to simply take it when no one was looking.

Living in poverty, the girl has had enough after two more years. Growing stronger, nimbler and bolder, Diamond started rifling the pockets of unsuspecting passer-bys. It didn't take long for the gang whose territory she was on to threaten her into joining. Having nothing to lose and all to gain, Diamond was happy to accept.

In the next few years, Diamond slowly but steadily became great at her craft, rising through the gang's ranks nicely. It all came to an abrupt end however when another gang made a move on their territory. During the fight her semblance manifested and gave her the means of escaping the brawl without getting hurt. Afterwards, she went solo again.

After honing her skills for several more years and nearly getting caught a few times, Diamond made a reputation for herself in the underworld. Finally, she got contracted to pull an art heist for the first time. She started working as a hired gun, taking items of opportunity for herself along her jobs. For the next year, she lived quite the luxurious life and amassed significant wealth for her age.

Growing careless, Diamond got caught by an undercover cop while pickpocketing for change. Having nothing on her other than the pickpocketing, her sentence was just a year in juvenile detention.

Coming face to face with several less than pleasant experiences and generally starting to understand that when she barely survived a month of Atlesian Juvy, she would die in a lifetime in an Atlesian prison, Diamond started working her hide off to make something of herself, moving to Vale and paying herself a crash course to drastically improve her combat abilities.
A year later, she made it into Beacon.

Personality:
In one word, Diamond is a bitch. Sarcastic and cynical, she has nearly no moral blocks and will happily relieve you of money you didn't guard well enough just to show you she can. The concept of friendship is something new to her and it shows in her opinion on people swinging easily. Diamond can feed you complete garbage without losing a serious expression on her face. If you piss her off, prepare to suffer a thoroughly planned humiliation.

She might be a criminal, but she is a classy one. Violent crimes are a strict no-go unless something has gone horribly wrong. She quite enjoys the thrill of sneaking around and defeating various obstacles like motion sensors and locks. In her mind, every moron can rob a dust store at gunpoint, but it takes skill to do it in a way that makes the owner notice only a day afterwards.

Apparently she is not past redemption, because after Juvy, she decided to do something with herself and applied to be a huntress, even though her main reason is to hone her skills rather than to protect the people.

Skills:
* Combat
	+ Hand-to-hand: Average
	+ Short blades: Expert
	+ Long blades and polearms: Proficient
	+ Firearms: Lacking
	+ Dust: Beginner, talented
* Common
	+ Leading: She has what it takes to do well enough, but lacks self-confidence
	+ Lockpicking: Expert
	+ Hacking: Skilled with older systems, haven't kept up with recent advances
	+ Pickpocketing: Proficient
	+ Cooking: Wizard
	+ Drinking: Practice makes perfect

Powers:
* Inborn
	+ Shadowshifter - Diamond absorbs her shadow into her own being, gaining the ability to alter her own body much like the shadow before. She can turn any part of her body into a shadow form. In such a state, she is more resistant to physical damage, although her senses are somewhat dulled. The true ability is that Diamond can alter her shape within some bounds. Her shape has to remain humanoid in essence, but her limbs can stretch, sharpen or bulk up, for example she can grow talons or change her entire forearm into a blade. She can also turn flatten herself into a shadow to pass through small gaps like under the door.
* Acquired
	+ Ice dust implant - Diamond had Ice dust fused into her nervous system, giving her the ability to cast spells through her fantasy alone. This kind of dust allows her to create and manipulate ice. It comes with downsides though - too voluminous or quick casting will damage her nerves, or other tissues in later stages.
	+ Kinetic dust implant - Same as above, granting Diamond telekinetic abilities. Other than moving things with her mind she can also use this to project physical attacks over distance.

Relationships:
* Cobalt Chideta: "A passive lad. I don't mind him, but I also fail to notice he's in the room half of the time."
* Oswald Connoly: "Ugh! His attitude can be infuriating, especially when he's not much better than I am. It's in his eyes. He's seen - and done - some nasty things."
* Emerald Felicia: "Lovable goof, infuriating airhead. Just friends."
* Esther Vanhomrigh: "Just benefits."
* Träd Oak: "Smoking and drinking buddy. Quite possibly the only person in this school that I can stand without any reservations."
* Sapphire Rode: "Someone from an entirely different world than I. She has the right to her opinions. They're mostly wrong, of course, but hey."
* Kuhaku Shiro: "Infuriating klutz, comedic relief. Generally harmless and epically innocent."
* Skyra Dawn: "Very recent acquaintance. Dunno. Seems to follow the general feline faunus trend though."
* Amaranth Desire: "The reminder of the past I want to forget. Business, that's all it was."

Trivia:
* Diamond is left handed.
* She is afraid of deep waters.
* A quitting smoker.
* She likes red meat and high quality alcohol.

[User]
Emerald - Totally lost -

A drop of sweat escaped Emerald's face. She looked all around her with frantic, erratic movements.

"AHHHHHH I'm totally lost!" Maybe running off on her own hadn't been such a great idea. Emerald waved her hands in the air frantically, running in a circle. "I'm gonna die! I'm gonna run out of water, then I'm gonna die! They'll find nothing but bones!"

She paused in her panicking when she remembered something important. She had a scroll. She opened it up and quickly found a map of the school. "Ah okay, I'm not gonna die, phew."  That had been a close one, she decided that the wisest thing to do now would be to head back the way she came and hopefully find that tour guide. She started running with abandon, hopefully they hadn't started the tour without her! She'd miss the tour snacks! Wait, did they have tour snacks? She hoped so!

The assembled group outside of Ozpin's office heard what sounded like wind blowing at high speed as Emerald sped toward them, nearly crashing into the group as she came to a sudden stop in front of them. She panted, bracing herself against her knees as she caught her breath. She looked up at Sarina.

"Sorry! I got excited and ran off to explore but then I got lost and thought I was gonna die and that all that would be left was my bones but then I remembered I had a scroll and I looked at the map and ran all the way back here because I didn't want to miss the tour and by the way are there snacks?" She was speaking so fast it was hard to keep up with her.

[Assistant]
Marcus Goldstein - Convoy Escort

The camp was in ruins. No one was left inside. Bodies, burning ruins and broken tools littered the inner field. Far too many by Marcus' own hand. He counted those shot by Aurellius. Under his orders MODA smashed everything like an out of control Sitting Bull. He might as well have pulled Avalon's trigger himself.

"Better than an action movie right?" Aurellius said. "Too bad I didn't get to do much but hey that's how the dice land."

Marcus said nothing in return. Personally he felt like Oswald looked, but he stowed it for later. There were still people to save. He could still do some good. He had to do some good here. He could drown himself in what ifs and unanswered questions later, now was the time for action. The convoy still had two trucks left that were making a run for it.

The autoloader rattled as another HE shell slid into the breech. To an outsider the cannon solution might have appeared like overkill. However it was the best option Marcus had. Close quarters was out, machine guns would be less effective, and finally the bugs were tiny. That made them highly susceptible to death by overpressure. Once more an artificial earthquake shook the ground as another shell thundered downrange. Compared to the other spectacles of destruction the explosion was almost mundane. The thickest part of the bug swarm simply ceased to exist, replaced in a flash of light by a small mushroom cloud.

Meanwhile another mental track analysed. Their behaviour indicated the bugs wanted the fire to spread. There was nothing that could be done about the source of the flames but wait for it to burn out, no available fire extinguisher would put out the white phosphorous. The acid the bugs used would do a number on everything MODA had to offer, let alone the camp. So why were they not swarming over the camp? Why bother with the fire? What was the cause of the jamming? Was it related to the bugs and if so how and why? Who were the humanoid attackers of the convoy then, if any? Far too may questions needed answers.

"So what now boss?" Aurellius asked.

"Now. Now we hold our ground. Defend the camp. I doubt this is over." Marcus said tonelessly. "If however, it is over. We regroup, find some answers, then move on from there."

[User]
Luke Schwarze -- Out of the Frying Pan

First universal rule of fighting in all forms...

Well, guideline, but treating it as a rule is smart. Perhaps the greatest lesson he'd ever learned from the very same coach that had always told him to try and emulate his prodigy sister--

Stay off the center line!

Feeling his eyebrows begin to singe away, the gauntleted teen juked forward and to the side, simultaneously closing distance and evading a crispy, untimely conclusion to their short battle.

That said, he needed to keep this up. Casting fireball undoubtedly gave this Mordred guy the range advantage, and that was something he absolutely needed to take away! He kept pressing inward, trying to close the distance between him and his opponent.

If I can just get my hands on him, I'll be in a much better position to do some work.

Luckily, he only had a few feet to go, and then the next issue'd be dealing with that sword.

Either try and in-fight, or just take him to the ground.

Those seemed like the best options.

Keeping an intelligent defense up all the while, Schwarze continued working his way into range.

[Assistant]
Having finally caught up with the now stationary tank, Diamond jumped up with a loud thump. "Say what?" she said, a bit of anger in her voice. "That's not the mission. That's to protect the trucks! The camp was a write off even before we showed up, look at what's left of the truck! The bugs would have gotten the camp in the end, and we brought mining dust, not arms, none of this would have helped them!" she said, her voice getting steadily more growling. This was going to end badly from the start and there was pathetic little they could have done with what they had and knew. Time to pull their heads out of their asses and salvage what was left!

Two of the trucks were heading back to Vale, while the wreck of the third one was rapidly vanishing in front of their eyes. And they stood here, doing nothing, and being surrounded by a spreading wildfire. "Well? Do something, boss! I'm not abandoning what they hired me to do as long as those trucks are rolling and I am certainly not going to stay here and burn to a crisp! If you can't make a decision then get your candy ass back to that camp, there are a few survivors to load up, and let me handle this!" she yelled in frustration and jumped off, walking in the direction of what remained of the third truck and the bulk of the swarm.

The blast of the high explosive shot seemed to hurt the swarm more than the fire. The source of the fire was an incendiary round, not much she could do about that, but they had to put out the grass before they burned here alive. How does one put out a fire of that magnitude though? It reminded her of a dust quarry fire, spreading too fast to be contained. If memory served, they put those out with a shockwave, blowing the flames right off. Looking at the truck, the pieces started falling together.

She just hoped enough of the mining dust was left intact to be effective. Turning around, she gave Marcus a stern look. "Blow up what's left of the truck before they eat it all! That should blow off the fires in a gap big enough for us to get through and take most of the bugs with it! We only need the two trucks! We need to catch up with those!" she said, her tone of voice on the borderline between a suggestion and an order.


[System]
Age: 42

Faction: Gotham City Police Department, Homicide Bureau

Appearance:

Bio: Art Kingsley is a GCPD Homicide Detective with twenty years experience on the rough streets of Gotham. A cynical, hard-edged, and grizzled veteran, Kingsley understands the fundamental truth about the city; that sometimes you have to do bad thing for the right reasons. Kingsley has a great many skeletons in his closet, but the whiskey bottle and copious amounts of tobacco and the occasional use of drugs keep them at bay.

Name: Felix Taylor

Age: 37

Faction: Gotham City Police Department, Homicide Bureau

Appearance:

Bio: Felix Taylor is a veteran of years of war in the desert and jungles. Returning to his home city of Chicago, he served three years in the Metro PD before a scandal forced him to transfer to the last chance saloon-the GCPD. He is new to the homicide bureau, but has shown promise on the three cases on which he has worked.

[User]
"SHOTGUN GANG" HITS GOTHAM WEST BANK-MILLIONS STOLEN

Gotham has once again been hit by a new wave of highly-motivated and professional criminals, in the form of the six men known as the "Shotgun Gang", who started plying their deadly trade three months ago. Great Western American Bank, Central Gotham Savings, Britannia Holdings... no safe is safe, it would seem. The six men appear well-trained and carry automatic shotguns. They storm in, blow the vault, take everything they can, then disappear into the city again to plan their next robbery. They've shown themselves to be ruthless, too. In one instance they fired on a security guard, who narrowly avoided death, and in another they broke a cashier's nose after she wasn't fast enough in handing over the money. One thing is sure-they won't stop until they are caught

The sky was leaden grey, overcast and threatening rain. It seemed as if the heavy, dark clouds were pressing down on the city.

Detective Arthur Kingsley pulled the unmarked sedan up to the kerb outside Julio's. The small, cramped, and dingy diner was in one of the most deprived and violent parts of town, and Kingsley could remember being called to the diner many times as a beat cop. This was the first time as a homicide detective, though. Hopefully he would have more success than the suits did when he was on the beat, he thought as he put on his jacket and fedora.

"You know Art, I musta been called to this dump a hundred times when I was on the beat." Kingsley's partner, Felix Taylor, must have been reading his thoughts.

"I know. This town's like a damn merry-go-round. Always the same crime scenes, over and over." Kingsley nodded to the policeman who lifted the yellow tape to let the two detectives through.

The murder victim was sprawled on his back in a pool of blood beside the bar, several red-rimmed holes torn in his chest. A pistol was clutched in his outstretched hand.

Kingsley gazed at the scene for a moment. "Looks professional." He said. Taylor nodded. "Yeah, that's what I was thinking. Tight shots, evenly spaced. They knew what they were doing."

Kingsley knelt. The man was in his mid-40s, and was well-built with a thin moustache. Kingsley snapped on a pair of disposable gloves on and checked his jacket pockets. A wallet, stained with blood. "Our vic is one Anthony Maddox." He said after reading the ID within. He handed the wallet to Taylor and checked the other pockets. A spare clip for the handgun in the corpse's hand, and...

Kingsley's face went white. He pulled something from the pocket and stood. Taylor frowned when he saw his partner's face. "What?" He asked, puzzled. "You look like someone has just walked over your grave." Kingsley just held out his hand. He held a silver police badge that was covered in blood, red smears covering the GCPD crest. "He was a cop." the detective said, his voice like ice. "He was a fucking cop."

"Anthony George Maddox. Narcotics Bureau officer. Aged 44, lives in a building on the China Docks." Edward Nygma, the tall angular forensics man, opened his mouth to speak again.

"If it's a riddle, Ed, you can just keep it." Kingsley cut him off. Nygma closed his mouth again. Taylor appeared from behind the bar. "Got casings here." He said. "Looks small calibre."

"It's from Detective Maddox's gun." Nygma replied, looking down at the dead cop. "He went down fighting."

"Any indication of who the assailants were?" Kingsley asked.

"Maddox wounded one of his attackers, we think." Nygma crossed the diner, pointing to a spot on the wall that was cratered by a bullet hole and smudged with red.

Kingsley looked at the victim and back again at the wall. "Trajectories seem to fit." He remarked. "I can see how it happened."

"Once we get Maddox back to the lab, we'll run the blood on the wall, see if we can get a match." Nygma said, looking at his clipboard.
A uniformed officer came to the door. "We've finished interviewing the witnesses." He announced. Taylor's eyebrows rose. "That was damn quick." He said. Kingsley snorted. "Guess they saw nothing." The beat cop clapped a hand to his mouth in mock surprise. "How did you know?" He said sarcastically. The three cops laughed; Nygma didn't seem to find it funny.

[Assistant]
For most of Gotham work was long over, for some it was just starting Renee's newest assignment was to catch a big fish known to frequent the girls selling themselves on the streets. She posed as one of those girls this was the fourth night in a row, she caught a lot of Johns but not the big fish she was trying to. A car pulled up, expensive, same make and model her target was known to drive. The passenger side rear window was lowered. She leaned in showing an ample amount of cleavage. This was her target. She gave the sales pitch she copied from several street workers. He unlocked the door & she got in. That was the sign to her backup to follow discreetly, a much harder thing to do at night which is why she was given a tracking device disguised as a lipstick that would only be activated once she was at her destination in case they checked her for any transmitting equipment.

At the hotel she was taken up a service elevator to the penthouse suite. The target had a demands before anything happened. In the bathroom she did as instructed but also activated her tracker in case her backup had to give up following the car.


[System]
Species: Human

Gender: Female

Age: 34

Nationality: Outreman, previously citizen of Angjusk

Occupation: Deputy head of department - Cradle Research & Development

Cybernetics:
* Cradle quick-access implant - Allows access to and from the Cradle environment without additional hardware. This advanced module also reduces fatigue caused by the process, allowing power users multiple entries in a single day.
* Tier 7c 'Cradle Builder' suite - Grants access to the programs created specifically for 'terraforming' the Cradle. Tier 7 out of 20 allows Freyr to auto-build a variety of specialised equipment and propose-build mid level structures.
* Ilyes Brand communication and productivity module - Standard implant for access to Outremer's communications network. Also integrates with many well known productivity tools like a personal assistant, as well as more bespoke scientific tools.

Backstory:
Freyr was born on Angjusk, an older colony than Outremer that was renowned for its military materiel, particularly star ships.

Her mother was an innovations tsar assigned by the government to a consortium of the planet's largest ship manufacturers. During most of Freyr's childhood, her mother's sole task was making sure Angjusk battle fleets were the best money could buy in the Diaspora.

Before she was born, her father owned and operated a series of protein farms across Angjusk. After a chance encounter at a lobby meeting, he was headhunted to co-ordinate the military industrial complex's entire food supply chain. He also met his future wife, as it was Freyr's mother who had recommended him for the job on that fateful day in the lobby.

Freyr was born five years later. Her early life was a whirlwind of schooling, snatches of intimacy with her parents (when they weren't busy) and extended periods with friends. She discovered a natural capacity for learning and excelled in her studies. So much so that she received offers from universities across the Diaspora to come and develop with them.

Her mother and father both pressured her to consider diplomas like Interplanetary Relations or Agrarian Policy. However Freyr was not interested in pursuing a career in politics. Angjusk has been involved in at least a dozen small conflicts since Freyr had been born. She had seen how politicians would destroy entire cultures for the sake of influence, and wanted none of it.

In her first act of defiance, Freyr accepted a position at a school in Babylon, the main city of a far away frontier colony called Outremer. Driven more by the desire to have time away from her planet than by the subjects on offer, she researched what Outremer was known for. It was here that she first discovered the object powering this section of the Diaspora - the Cradle.

She quickly became obsessed with its untapped potential and seemingly unknowable past. She decided to pursue Xenobiology and Machine Intelligence as her subjects of interest, voraciously consuming the knowledge gathered so far on the Cradle.

It was here at the university that she met her future partner, David, who was studying art history. Isolated from her family and friends, alone on a strange planet, Freyr was glad of his unassuming company and kindness. They grew very close over the course of their degrees, and moved in together after graduation. Their daughter Amy was born a few years later.

After Uni, Freyr was picked up by an Outremer administration outreach team and placed in a government career fast lane. Her obsession with the Cradle made her an obvious choice for the Cradle Research & Development department. Once there, she quickly proved herself capable. Several breakthroughs in her first five years meant she was allowed to hand select a team of dynamic young individuals to help pursue her work. A couple more catapulted her into a deputy head of department role, to the ire of some of it's older and more entrenched members.

It was on her 34th birthday that the Cradle abducted her family. It had been acting strangely for weeks prior, rolling back years of terraforming. Freyr had been working round the clock to figure out why, practically living at her field office by the Border. David had bought sweet treats and had Amy with her.

What can only be described as creatures emerged from beyond the Border and overran the camp. A panic spread through the mostly unarmed workers, leading many to flee for their lives. Freyr's last memory of her family was being propelled across the camp by one of the creatures. She could only watch from her position immobile on the floor as they carried off her husband and little girl.

Security forces conducted a sweep of the immediate area beyond the Border, but found no sign of them. So Freyr began looking by herself as soon as her broken bones were reconstructed. Months went by. Her work stopped and her mental health deteriorated. Eventually she was placed on sick leave and her access revoked, after she attempted to use her influence to organise an armed excursion deep into the uncontrolled zone.

[User]
"I see." The man nodded thoughtfully at Vreta's description of the attack. "Is this true?" His eyes drilled into Freyr. She nodded shakily. "Yeah, pretty much. I'm sorry...who did you say you were again?" The man smiled. "I wouldn't worry about that right now, Dr Lang. The main thing is that i'm here to help - both of you." He looked at Vreta again. "I also wouldn't worry about this place. It will be a fortress by dawn tomorrow. We have our best terraformers on it." The man gestured for both of them to walk through the glass doors into the transit station as they slid open. "Please, after you."

The large, bright, sparsely furnished room Freyr had arrived in only an hour or two ago had been totally transformed. An entire command centre of holo-consoles and other equipment was being set up around the outside, leaving an open space in the middle for people to spawn in and out. Freyr could see a wide variety of people milling around. There were engineers and technicians in white jumpsuits, connecting up even more gear. There were at least half a dozen terraformers in whatever clothes they'd decided to program in. Freyr also spotted a few other people in the same black uniform as the man with the augmented eyes, who had now followed them through the double doors. These black-clad people all turned to stare directly at them, making Freyr feel incredibly vulnerable.

"Please, take a seat." The man with the augmented eyes urged, walking past them to sit at an ornate wooden desk. There were two chairs facing him on the other side. After a split second, the man exclaimed. "Ah, of course, the chair!" He loudly snapped his fingers and a nearby terraformer turned around. The man gestured to Vreta, and after sizing him up for a moment, the terraformer hit a few options on her holo-interface. One of the chairs seemed to disassemble and reassemble in a flurry of half-digital moving parts. When everything settled, Freyr could see a large stool, presumably suitable for tailed reptilians. "Please." The man smiled, gesturing to the seats again. Freyr sat down, growing slightly uneasy.

"Now - this creature you speak of. Is it the same creature as the ones who abducted those Skinners?"

"Yeah." Freyr nodded, slightly thrown off by the fact that this man knew about the abductions.

"It came back? Why?"

"I uh, I don't know." Freyr turned to look at Vreta. "You said that it was doing something with a device when you found it. What kind of device?"

The man looked at Vreta as Freyr spoke, his facial expression completely unfathomable.

[Assistant]
"You can fortify all you want, but don't underestimate these things. I don't know what these things are, exactly, but if they're from the Cradle, then you're fighting on their territory, not yours. You didn't create this place." Vreta warned.

In any case, Vreta followed the man into the transit station. Although, he could not help but to be disappointed that they did not return from the Cradle right away. He had a multitude of reasons for wanting to be rid of this place. He did take a seat on the stool provided for him on the man's insistence, but Vreta's general discomfort started to become more and more visibly apparent the longer the man spoke.

Vreta was making a few mental notes on the topic Freyr discussed with the man. While he had guessed this already, their conversation did confirm that the creatures were related to the disturbance at the office building. In his research since he arrived on Outremer, Vreta had heard of the Skinners. Their goals and methods earned them the label of terrorists, though with what Vreta had seen of the Cradle, he personally felt they might have the right of it. Regardless, he did not bring it up. When Vreta was finally questioned directly, he decided to give a show of cooperation with an honest answer. "I can't be completely sure. When I investigated the shed, I only got a look inside for a few seconds before that thing knocked out the power. Just by its appearance, it might have been some kind of communications equipment."

Vreta revealed yet more of his discomfort when his grimace showed his bloodstained teeth. Glancing to the side, he put more pressure on his injured arm. "Look, I'm willing to talk about this with you, but I'd really rather not do this in the Cradle. That creature knocked out a few of my teeth, by arm burns like the ninth ring, and frankly, the blood loss is distracting. More importantly, I'm not completely convinced that border isn't going to come crashing down on us again at any moment. Did those creatures really retreat, or are they just gathering their forces? I promise my cooperation for every one of your questions if we return to the real world. Like I said, my name is Vreta'Sori, representative of the Zuraxi'Synkuur corporation. I'm staying on the twenty-first floor of the Synastar Hotel. You look like a man with the authority to run my identity, so I'm sure you can get confirmation this is all true. Someone as high-profile as me, you know I can't just escape unnoticed. I'll go back to my hotel room and wait for you there; you have my word."

[User]
The fact that the creature may have been interfacing with exo-Cradle comms equipment rang alarm bells in Freyr's head. What could it have been doing? However, she held her tongue at this moment. It was abundantly clear that the alien was in a lot of pain, and didn't want to stick around to talk here. She couldn't blame him; the events of the last hour would almost certainly haunt her forever.

However, she could find some kernels of hope among this sea of despair - she was reasonably sure her family were still alive somewhere. She was also confident she'd gathered more useful data today than in the previous ten years of work. She just needed to go home and assimilate all the information for it to be any use. She knew where Vreta was staying - she resolved to talk with him privately about the specifics if she could.

The man with augmented eyes nodded considerately at Vreta's story. "I understand completely, we'll get you back to the real world in just a moment - we know where both of you are. I just have one more question for you, Vreta'Sori. Why is it that you were in an evacuated crime scene today?"

While this was happening, Freyr could hear a slight commotion behind them. She turned to see the wounded from their trucks being stretchered inside. At the same time, the room hummed slightly, and looking over her other shoulder she caught a squadron of heavily armoured CraSec soldiers being spawned in. They lined up to grab weapons from an armaments locker before heading to the doors. There was a lot going on, and the questioning was getting a bit above her paygrade, so Freyr was longing to just get out of here.

[Assistant]
The Human's thinly-veiled accusation was apparent, but this was a game to which Vreta was no stranger. He did not give any hint to his thoughts in his reaction, letting out only something of an amused hum. "Well, the simple answer is that I wasn't." Vreta replied.

Vreta paused just a moment, letting out a grunt as he shifted his injured arm into a more comfortable position. "Like I said, I'm a representative of the Zuraxi'Synkuur corporation. I am not at liberty to discuss all of the details of our transactions, but suffice to say that we have extensive dealings with the corporation that holds this district. A part of our agreements stipulate that I am permitted to inspect their testing and production facilities to ensure they meet our agreed-upon standards. That was why I came here today. I got wind of a disturbance in one of our partners' holdings, so I wanted to ensure they were not at fault for whatever was happening. Negligence on their part could affect our contracts with them. This district was not locked down, either by its owner or the Outremer government, and I had full permission to be here. I respected all boundaries set by your men at the crime scene and did not trespass. The shed I investigated was outside the perimeter set by your soldiers. Whether or not they should have restricted access to that building is between you and your officers, but I broke no laws in entering. I can provide you copies of all of the necessary legal documents, once we are out of the Cradle."


[System]
Age: 15
Sex: Male
Hair: Auburn. Couple inches long, tends to curl out as it grows.
Eye: Greenish, though they're discolored like fogged glass, indicating his blindness. If you're up-close in his face, you can notice the bright amber limbal rings around his eyes, rune-scribing that marks him as an Astral Conduit.

Family: Morgen has a twin sister named Morwen, and five younger siblings who he hasn't seen in two years. His younger siblings and parents are believed to be living back in their old home village.
Affiliations: He was briefly part of the Miraculum for about a year after he and his sister were taken from their home village.
Home: Morgen was born and raised in a small village in the far reaches of the Wastelands. The village was known for harvesting petrified wood and trading with nearby outposts, and was known as Stonework.

Magic: He's an Astral Conduit, though still fairly knew at it. He can easily project himself into his dog, Spot, and is comfortable and skilled at controlling her. He's also found he's able to see through Morwen's eyes at times, though like most Astral Conduits, he's unable to "control" her as she is human. He hasn't tried his hand at other animals as of the start of our story.
Inventory: He carries a ratty old knapsack around, but it's usually empty unless his sister finds something of use to stow away in it. He carries a canteen and a small hunting knife on his person, but otherwise nothing else of real note. The only real treasure of his is a silver coin with a crude carving of a dog on it kept on a leather cord around his neck.
Combat: Morgen isn't much of a fighter, considering his blindness. When forced into a combat situation, he relies on shifting to his dog, Spot, for defense of himself and his sister. Spot is a large dog with pointed ears. Despite her name, she has no spots on her body at all, and is a solid black, dark as pitch. She stands about three feet high at the shoulder, with a broad chest and a matted, bushy tail.
History: Morgen was born in Stonework a few short minutes after his twin sister, Morwen. They are the eldest of five other children, born to a couple of loggers who worked the petrified woods around their hometown of Stonework. Morgen and his sister were bought by the Miraculum from their parents when they were twelve. Trade was doing poorly in their hometown due to a nearby elemental mutant wreaking havoc on the forests, and their parents needed coin to support the other children. The twins fled the organization when Morwen overhead them wanting to dispose of her brother, thinking he was incapable of Astral projection when he failed to demonstrate his abilities over the course of a year.
Other: Morgen is completely blind and relies on his newfound abilities as a conduit and his sister to survive.

[User]
Morwen wiped away a bead of sweat from her forehead, her other hand holding Morgen's. The air was heavy with the prospect of rain. The market itself swarmed around the two, adding to the intoxicating heat of the storm. Morwen took a slow breath, it ending in a harsh cough as dirt was kicked up from the travelers ahead of her. She reached over and wiped the sweat from her brother's forehead as well.

While the twins moved swiftly to the Inn at the end of the rode. Morwen paused to stare into a particular stand. Clothing aligned the rickety wooden walls, they were bright, clean, and stood out in the dusty market. Morwen let out a soft sigh, "Morgen, we…" She looked to her brother, "I think we can afford new clothing. And a hot dinner. We have to look good for our parents." She squeezed his hand again, grinning a bit now. The chance to get new clothing, it made Morwen's heart raced a moment. She moved quickly away, other expenses needed to be handle.

Morwen kept her head down, only to glance up when a sign caught her attention. A circle with an M painted in read, and a harsh "x" was carved into it all.The twin swallowed hard, the red of the sign didn't quite look like paint. She squeezed her brother's hand tightly "Keep your head down." She whispered softly, "Close your eyes. It's one of those towns."

The market ended abruptly, a small barely kept courtyard is what signified the Inn was near. The inn, was a glorified wooden shake. Made of a combination of petrified wood and actually lumber, it looked like it would fall apart in a good bit of wind. Morwen raised an eyebrow. She lead the two inside.

[Assistant]
Morgen kept his head low, not needing to be told twice. While more often than not he wasn't given the time of day (literally and figuratively speaking) by people they encountered, the risk was always there. While one would need to be close enough to kiss him to notice the odd limbal rings in his wasted eyes, all it took was one person to recognize that they were unnatural, scribed by the skilled and merciless hands of an enchanter, marking him as a conduit. He closed his eyes, allowing Morwen to assist him in meandering through the market. All the conversations seemed to roll into one murmuring, nonsensical noise. The only sounds he really picked up on where the occasional exclamation of shock or disgust when someone got to close to Spot, or noticed her skulking through the crowds. Lots of people liked dogs, he knew, but Spot was big and bullish and unwavering. She didn't flinch away from people, remaining steadfast at Morgen's side.

"Get that mutt outta here!" It was the first clear words that rang out across the room to them as they made their way into the inn. Morgen gathered that the common room must have been mostly empty, as the shouting didn't seem to interrupt much discussion. "We're a establishment, not a feckin' kennel!"

"Sorry missus!" Morgan said hastily and lifted a hand to Spot's head. His brow knit as he tightened his grip on Morwen's arm, briefly shifting to the beast to visualize for the dog, images of where to go, to wait. Spot was retreating back out the door before it even had a chance to fully close behind them, and Morgen worried for her safety. She was big, lots of good meat on her for a desperate man... and simple sport to beat and kill, for the cruel man. Nothing he could fret over now; she was on her way out, and he hoped she would either hunker down around the building side somewhere, out of sight, or make her way clear of the outpost, away from those who might wish her harm simply for the sake of harm. He always felt naked when the dog wasn't near, defenseless, and he edged closer to Morwen.

The inn was single-story, a large common area sprawled out in front of them from the only entryway. There were two windows along the side walls, covered crudely with ratty curtains that flickered with the occasional breeze. A short hall stretched out just to the right of the bar with seven doors, presumably leading to seven rooms available for patronage.

The woman behind the bar who had snapped at them upon entry was eyeing them as if she expected trouble. And why not? Two kids like that were bound to be up to no good. Likely pickpockets, either ducking in to avoid a pursuer or looking to steal something from her. She was old, but it was a fair bet that she looked much older than she truly was. Her dark hair was streaked with strands of dull grey, piled into a haphazard bun atop her head, and while her eyes were sharp, a brilliant shade of ice blue, the flesh around them was heavily wrinkled, likely from too much time spent in the sun, squinting against it. Her skin was darkened, splotched with spots that were even darker, mottling her features. Perhaps she had spent much of her youth working at inhospitable crops in the wastelands; perhaps she did still.

"If ye ain't got coin for a room, git back out there. Ain't desp'rate enough to be servin' no kids any moonshine."

[User]
Morwen jumped at the immediate shouting, she gulped, letting Morgen talk a moment. She scanned the room, hunching her shoulders and gripping the edges of her dress. She took a shuddering breath, reaching a hand into her a sewn pocket slowly and producing a coin purse. It was frankensteined like her dress, various patterns and fabrics tied together with a ratty piece of thread-bare rope. Only this time, there was a color theme. She had seem to taking a liking to the color green. All the fabrics ha da splash of the verdant degree to it.

She held onto Morgen as she moved closer, only he could feel that she was trembling. It's always this way with the first interaction in a new outpost. The innkeepers were normally the gossip of the outposts, the ones who know the regulars and the wary of newcomers. They already made a commotion. If the Miraclum was truly following them. This innkeeper could remember them, the black dog, the patchworked outfits. They stood out too much. The short walk to the counter was filled with heart-pounding, worst-case scenarios. Torture, recapture, death, those were just some of the scenes going on in her head.

A clink of her coin purse on the desk ended those thoughts, at least for now. Morwen looked up to the aging innkeeper. The twins eyes were a little too big for her sunken face, hair wild and frizzed from her days in the elements and lips chapped. She huffed, "Do you have vacancy?" Her voice did not waiver, but only spoke loud enough for the innkeeper to hear. She gripped tightly to her brother's hand.

[Assistant]
Morgen kept pace with his sister easily enough, hoping his own... somewhat confident movements would lend her some courage. He knew that she was afraid of being memorable, she was always afraid of that. In the beginning, when they had first run away, he had been the one fearful, always asking his sister what if they got caught, what if they found them? As the days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, and months into almost two years, he had slowly but surely lost that fear. The Miraculum were a large group, and surely they didn't have the time for a couple of kids who happened to bail late one night. They likely had runaways fairly often, and he doubted they cared enough to spend the time or resources on tracking down every last deserter. It was the Bloodhounds that worried him more, and their notorious reputation for being rather merciless. They wouldn't see a couple of kids; they'd see targets for elimination. He took some solace in the fact that the hunters tended to target real threats: mutations in the Wastelands, cells of the Miraculum, Enchanters or Conduits who were actually wreaking havoc. All he and his sister wanted was to get back home.

The barkeep narrowed her eyes down at Morwen; apparently even the sight of coin did not lessen her suspicion. "Whar'd ye steal this from, then?" It must have been a rhetorical question, because one hand darted out with rattlesnake speed to snatch up the coinpurse. She dumped the contents carelessly on the counter top and scrutinized the cores. "Three fer a room," She said, matter-of-fact, and pinned three of the poorly-milled coins down with ink-stained fingertips. She didn't replace the rest of the coins in the pouch, leaving that to Morwen... but at least, hard as the woman seemed, she wasn't about to rip off a couple of kids. She was honest.

Morgen gave his sister's hand a reassuring squeeze. His eyes were open again, but his head was still bowed, sightless gaze downcast. They'd get away from this old buzzard and into a nice room. Even if it wasn't really all that nice, any room was nicer than having to spend another night out in the Wastelands.

[User]
A small wave of relief came over the older twin. Only three coins, compared to the last inn this was a steal. No over charging for the dog, or having s brother, or some version of an age charge. An honest inn so close to home, that was a good sign. Was trade finally good again? Did the money their parents got from selling her and her brother get them to survive the oncoming winter? Maybe they were at the market right now!

Morwen kept her face passive, she hurriedly scooped the remaining cores into her bag. She took the key, "Thank you." She bowed her head to the elder inn keeper.

The door creaked loudly as it was pushed open. The room was basic. A bed, a desk, a chair and a small opening in the wall that could be called a window. Morwen dropped her things and tested out the bed. It was a shoddy four post bed, the mattress a flimsy sack filled with hay and the pillow was missing. There was a thin blanket folded on top. Morwen giggled. She let go of Morgen's hand and flopped on top of the bed.

She rolled to her back to stare at the rickety ceiling. "Morgen." The twin sat up quickly, "Morgen we're almost home!" She giggled again, "Just one more day, then, bam. I can finally show you what Mom's flower garden looks like!"

[Assistant]
Morgen smiled as he listened to his sister flop about on what must have been the bed in the room. He took a few careful steps away from her, one hand extended to feel for the wall. Hands hard and scarred from a lifetime of discovering the world by touch brushed lightly against the stony wood wall and he began to pace about the length of the room, with the walls as his guide, determining how big it was.

"Forget the garden," He turned his head a little in her direction. "I can't wait to see what mom'n dad look like. What Micah and Mordred and Myles and Maaria and baby Maddy look like. I guess maybe she isn't really a baby anymore though..." It occurred to him that their parents might have even had another child while they were away, and this excited him, too. He loved being a big brother; the more the merry, right?

His hands felt a sudden absence in the wall, and a stale breeze fell across his face as he turned to the "window". There were no curtains here, but on either side of the window were poorly-crafted shutters so that patrons might close themselves off from the sounds and smells of the market beyond. Morgen stood at the window for a while, relishing the breeze, the noises and scents he caught wafting their way. The market would be winding down soon, he knew; the sun would be setting, and the storm still loomed, threatening to strike, in the distance. Rain would come overnight.