[System]
Aliases: scarecrow, devil child, the cannibal.
Sex: Female
Age: Fifteen
Class: Scavenger

Brief Description
Height And Build: Small, hunched stature. Lean and wiry.
Skin Tone: Tanned and burned from sun overexposure, and eternally bruised. Marred with dirt that no cleaning could ever wash off.
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Black

Equipment

Rags wears nothing but a very immodest yet warm pelt made from the hide of mountain goats and one mountain lion, which was her 'coming of age' kill. In terms of weapons, she has a stone dagger with a handle made smooth by repeated use, as well as a tapered-edged stone bludgeoning tool halfway between a club and an axe.

Though she will be given her own small sword to train with.

Combat Abilities

People may say that her teacher fights "like a feral cave-lion" as a compliment until they see Rags fight and realize that fighting like a wild, untrained animal might not be the best thing, because Rags' combat style is halfway between 'wolf' and 'bull ape wildly swinging a stick'. Though she is strong, savage, and if she actually manages to pin you, might do something very regrettable to anything within range of her teeth, even a desert-dweller with a basic grasp of swordplay can best her with ease in her current state. That said she is an intelligent girl and a very quick learner.

Backstory

In this cruel world, the strong took from the weak, and this often had bad outcomes for the weak. But those who didn't die fled to anywhere with less competition. Knowing that society, hierarchy and even too many humans in the same spot would cause history to repeat, the strong to rise up and the weak to be oppressed again, the People of the Mountains and Valleys stuck together in small groups no greater than six, and only one man was permitted per group. They hunted with their intelligence, and passed down the techniques of traps, snares, and primitive stone weapons to their offspring, but with less education, the intelligence diminished until the People of the Mountains died out from dehydration and the People of the Valleys were nothing but small tribes of hunter-gatherers, receded to cavemen, albeit cavemen with language, wells and technology, and the tales passed down on rules to survive, to repeat the sins of the past.

To the mountainous range to the West of the known world, food was growing scarce, and the People of the Western Valley developed cannibalistic tendencies, and fought with and ate their rival tribes of six or less. They had rediscovered war. And as such, learned that besides hunting, they needed to teach themselves how to fight fellow humans, developing their own unique and feral brand of combat. 'Rags' was born into this era, a girl trained to speak and hunt and fight and to not repeat the sins of the past, and that was all she knew.

But these skills didn't serve them well when her tribe ventured too far into the desert planes at the wrong time, and encountered a group of real fighters, with real combat training and real, metal weapons. The rest of Rags' tripe was wiped out but she was captured. They could use her. They could train her to fight in their style, and when she was old enough, this tanned, unusual girl would be coveted for her uniqueness, and men would fight over the right to marry her. Of course, she was too naive to realize what an honor it was to be chosen, to be taught by the woman who was to be her teacher...

[User]
Rags kept her grip as her opponent moved, for as long as she held him, they were bound close and neither had offensive use of a hand, and this removed Aighrit's advantages far more than it damaged hers. This was her reasoning. Her foe was slippery and skilled at wrapping her up, but anchored to her, it was his unarmed hand versus her armed. No matter what he did, she would let go only as a last resort. The moment she noticed her sword strike would miss, she pulled it back, and kept it as a guard as she observed his movement, too unsure of what he was doing to risk making a rash move and walking into a trap.

When she noticed that his complex manoeuvre was culminating in a headbutt, she grinned and brought his head to meet his. They both collided in midair, and the double headbutt hurt them both. It hurt Rags more than Aighrit due to the added momentum of her arm being pulled but Rags had a very hard head, covered by rough, sandy skin and rougher, sandier hair. Aighrit did not emerge unscathed. For a moment it looked like Rags, having let go and staggered back, was going to fall, but instead she crouched, lowering her centre of gravity, though she was still looking a little wobbly after that headbutt. She needed time, even a few seconds more, to get her head clear, so she stayed on the defensive and began circling Aighrit with her sword up in a defensive position.

[Assistant]
An audible thud resounded across the courtyard. The viewers either sat in still silence, or produced barely noticeable giggles at the collision, and were they in a better contained area the sound would have echoed from the otherwise fairly silent walls. It didn't, but it had brought Aighrit back into control over his sword arm. He'd nearly dropped the thing and would have if he hadn't been the one to initiate the head butt. He'd had the knowledge of what was coming before it happened, and had made a conscious effort to ensure that the blade remained in his hand, but he had been put far more off-kilter than he was expecting he would have been. Her head was much harder than he had thought it would be, and he'd stumbled back several paces after the impact, already dazed and relatively off balance from the earlier blow to his nose. Another few blows like that and he'd be on the ground unconscious. His grasp over technique would be lessened, but it didn't affect his confidence much. Fights always made their way to this point after a while. The point where neither fighter was at their best, but both were still capable of waving about blades and attempting to position well according to the opponent despite the pain.

It wasn't so much that the pain turned off or went away, not really. More that it was consciously registered and accepted, relegated to a deeper part of the mind to make room for the thought and consideration which must still occur before one could rest and recover. It was easier to come back from this than from the total oblivion of being beaten half to death on the ground, a matter of days before feeling back to oneself over weeks or months. He was still smiling, but his eyes had lost their luster and descended into a state of dull, wet, glazed apathy, neither seemingly concerned nor particularly happy at the turn in the pair's fortunes. Perhaps these were the eyes of a fighter resigned to the fact that either way this all went down there would be no easy way out and no happy endings. It was a different thing to know going into a fight that one's likely outcome was to either beat an opponent senseless or in turn be beaten senseless by the very same person then it was to reach this point of reserved sensory awareness and awakened, lizard brained understanding that once more the being that was he had found itself on the meat trail.

He was a less capable fighter now then he had been at the beginning of the fight, the damage had racked up and taken its inevitable toll upon his mental faculties and his capacity to move and position himself with the precision of a fencer upon the sand. He would rather have danced and positioned and struck in twos and threes with all the softness of a mouse and the deft precision of a pit viper, but that part of the meeting had now passed. This was the second part, the raw, chaotic, demon violence the sand demands of a champion once form and deftness at blade begin to falter in the face of a skilled opponent and prolonged exposure to the pains and hurts of the protracted fight. Aighrit no longer attempted to lock eyes with his opponent, his own gaze trailing just left and down hovering at her right shoulder. Her blade was held in a defensive posture, and it was clear she was intending on using it to keep her distance from him, likely to give her the time to fully recover from the impact. He even thought he might have noticed a misstep, a lone instance of having judged the distance to the ground with a slight inaccuracy on her part.

There would be no form to his movements, no clear pattern or plan except to bring himself closer to Rags, and relatively quickly. He did not move in a straight line, but the jagged, wild stepping pattern of a drunk or one recently awoken from a deep slumber. At two separate times he actually moved backwards a half step during his advance, all the while his left hand holding his blade down and to his side. It was an oddly wild, looping thing to witness, and for all intents and purposes cast him as likely having taken a harder hit than any in attendance would have expected, but save for the occasional backstep he still seemed intent on moving toward Rags. Should she not charge him or move to retreat he would continue to advance in his injured fashion until getting to within a couple paces of her. If he managed to get to this point he would at long last lunge, not to her sword arm but to the outside of it, his own sword arm aiming upwards at his mid torso level and toward her shoulder before quickly, suddenly turning inwards and towards his left side, her right, with his opposite foot and hand hurtling toward her.

Should she have attempted to block the strike conventionally he would attempt to loop around the inside of her elbow with the outside of his own, assuming the blades of their swords would meet after she attempted to block the hit, weaving his wrist and the blade held by it past her right bicep and upwards toward the sky, while stepping forward with his own right foot and simultaneously pull forward on her right arm with his left arm, seeking to pull her forcibly into the punch he was aiming toward her own nose. Assuming she had allowed him to close and attempt to strike at and wrap up her right arm with his left she would still have her opposite hand to guard with, and her legs to attempt a kick as he advanced, but he was confident that if he managed to get her blade arm wrapped up in his own he would be able to meet her face before she could realize and attempt to do much but put her own guard arm into the way of his punch. It was certainly possible that she could kick him in the groin, but her lead foot would have difficulty getting past his own as he had attempted to step to the outside of her body, and it took longer to understand that he had attempted a grab and was moving forward with the opposite foot while punching and to respond to it with a rear leg kick to the groin on her end then it did to simply step forward while punching on his end. This was all assuming she allowed him to close with her, should she have instead charged him or simply evaded him his strategy naturally would have to be altered.


[System]
* Age: 35
* Gender: M
* Appearance:
Normal-
Alien Armor-
* Bio: Universe 71665, a world where there are no cops, robbers, or military. Instead there are powered beings that act as the law, or chaos, of the world. Justin found the symbiotic being known as Hastur when he was a teenager. After being found, the two were sent a training center to master their teamwork. After leaving the training center the two, going by the name Plasmid, became mercenaries, working for whatever hero or villain had the bigger wallet.
* Powers/Abilities:
Street Fighting- Justin is not trained highly in fighting, instead he relies on "winging it" while in a fight. He will use anything as a weapon, use "cheap or dirty" shots, and anything else he can to win a fight. His life motto is "The only fair fight, is the one you walk away from."
Wrestling- The only form of training Justin has is in wrestling. He likes to keep ahold of his foes, or keep them on the ground.
Symbiotic Armor-
powerlisting.wikia.com/wiki/Symbiotic_..
Simple Healing Factor- Only when wearing the suit/armor
* Weaknesses:
Intense Sonic Waves
Extreme Heat
Extreme Cold
High Voltage
Separation Anxiety

Other Weaknesses might be found while traveling the multiverse.

[User]
Summoning rituals were both a blessing and a curse. Being ripped from the void felt pretty terrible. But then you got to explore a new world with new experiences! But something like a holodeck was anything but interesting. That being said, it was extremely rare for machines to even dabble in the occult, let alone try a complex void summoning ritual! Let alone with neon signs leading people somewhere like a gameshow!

Well, gameshows could be fun. So Light, having been summoned, decided to follow the neon signs to their destination. Something interesting was bound to happen, if not, well... There was always that place with the plumber constantly getting high of 'shrooms and stardust.

Out of everything, besides some other show contestants, was a dossier with a little info about Light. Sure it was drastically lacking, but then occult documents tended to skimp on lots of details. Still though, it was interesting someone had multiversal access like this. Or was this a world Light had already visited? It didn't matter right now, there were prizes to win!

[Assistant]
Justin looked over as a woman walked into the room. She was speaking to him, but he didn't hear her. He was distracted by the way she looked. She looked, odd. At least, she did to him.

"Are you, real?" Justin asked, walking up to her. "You look like someone had, drawn you." He said, not trying to sound like a jackass, but knew he was. He pulled out a comic book and showed her, hoping that might clear up some of the confusion.

"First I wake up on a ship, then I meet a walking comic girl." He said, then looked up as a man was talking about being detained. "What? Listen, I think we are all being de....wait, what the hell are "taxes"?" He asked, as another person walked in. "Dear lord, you lot just keep appearing, huh?" He asked, looking at the new being in the room. He was ready to speak to her when yet another person came walking in. "Is this a joke or something?" He asked. "Does anyone have any idea what's going on?" He asked, just as the screen came to life, showing only two words.

"Low Power!"

"Well, that can't be good." Justin said. "So, we are on a ship, lord only knows where, losing power. I would suggest, that we go find the power switch, get it started, then we can all be buddy buddy later. Deal?" He asked, already heading towards a door. "I think I passed by a maintenance closet or something on the way here. Maybe it'll have what we need, or a map at least." He stopped at the door, turning to look at everyone.

"Names Justin. Sorry to skip that bit before." He said, before walking into the hall, as the computer screen added another word.

"Low Power! Danger!"

[User]
"Excuse me? What do you mean? That's very rude, asking a person if she's real? If anything you're the weird one." Cassie looked a bit insulted at that, and crossed her arms across her chest. She looked around and soon some more people walked in. One looked like he had walked in from the middle of a snow storm, which caused her to arch her eyebrow. "You okay there?"

Then another man who looked similar to the first man, and insisted he wasn't insane. Then... She looked over at their newest arrival. Cassie wasn't sure how to describe the person (?) wearing the trench coat. The man in the snow storm gear started yelling at her and she blinked.

"Woah! I haven't detained anyone! I just was going to the bathroom, and then ended up here! I have work to do and people to help protect, and yet, I'm here on.. I'm guessing this is a space ship? Wait.... Space Ship!?" Cassie looked around in surprise. "Where the hell..."

She was cut off by the screen coming to life and yelling at the five of them. The guy who had introduced himself as Justin went to go find the maintenance closet. "I guess I'll uh... follow?" She looked a bit confused at that and then heard the computer yell at them again, adding the word 'Danger.'

"Oh crap... alright, let's fine the power box."

[Assistant]
Soloman backed off a bit, perplexed at the developments in his situation.

"If you didn't detain me, then what is going on?" he uttered out, before hearing Justin question taxes.

"Wha...what world do you live in where taxes aren't a thing"

More were piling in, though Solomon payed them little mind as the ship they were on seemed to have a few words to say.

Low Power! Danger!

"Well, that's not good"

Solomon chuckled a bit at Cassie's surprise, "What, you've never been on a ship before? I didn't have you pegged for the earthbound type."

He followed after Justin. "Name's Solomon, I'm a spacer." he said, digging his plasma torch out of his pocket and holding it up for the others to see, "I was actually going to repair my own ship, so I guess we're in luck that this little thing carried over with me to wherever we are, huh?" Solomon took off his face mask and goggles, revealing his face, and perhaps more noticeable, his eyes, which were bright blue, almost looking florescent.

Soloman spoke up one last time, "So, I'm guessing you're all from Earth? Just on account of you're all speaking English"

[User]
Rockin' was walking through his hometown, looking around for his next spark of inspiration. As he neared the northern edge of town, he smiled, remembering how Blitz had used one of the Elements of Death to preserve life. "I wonder if he's won Violet over yet," he said to himself before turning around.

A strange orange orb was flying towards him. He didn't know what it was at first but was quick to try to grab it with his magic. When that didn't work, he tried teleporting away. It seemed to be following him. As a last ditch effort, he tried kicking it when it got close enough, but he missed completely.

He stood and shook his head before looking around. "Low power," he said to himself, tilting his head. "Ignoring the fact I'm the only pony in a room full of... whatever you are, I know I'll need a spell book. Does anypony have anything that'll help?"

He turned to actually look at the group his horn glowing a turquoise color, matching his eyes, as his metal wings began moving. "We have to search everywhere if nopony has one on them."

[Assistant]
Light wasn't sure if she was the only one on this ship or not. After all, she wasn't really captive. If they summoned her here without any sort of security or anything than they were only aware of how to summon her or it was some sort of benign sorta thing like the gameshow she guessed at. But then if it was a gameshow, where were the other contestants?

She wandered around the ship a bit more until parts of the ship started to power down. It was around this time that she heard some voices from a room over. Excited to meet some people, she made her way to the room's door which due to the low power in the ship, had been locked. She banged on it quite loudly, but no one answered nor did the door open. So she did the funniest thing that came to mind.

Brandishing her fingers like claws, she stuck both of her hands through the door and made a small opening for herself, the sound of metal being both scratched and being ripped apart penetrating the room. Sticking her head through the opening, she gave the group inside a wide smile saying. "Hello other game show contestants!" She was expecting most of the humanoids of various types and shapes, some inky, some in a trenchcoat, some space-y. What she didn't expect was the walking glowing horse unicorn thing.


[System]
Race: Dwarf

Age: 62

Gender: Male

Appearance: Durin is a giant, well giant for a Dwarf. Compared to humans he is still a bit short, but he stands at 5' 7" well over a head over most dwarves. Not only is Durin tall, he retains the stoutness of his kind, boasting muscular broad shoulders and hips so he ends up looking like something comparable to a brickhouse. A brickhouse covered in leather, that is. Durin's skin is thick, and carries both the texture and color of stretched hide. Faded scars can be found all over his body, most notably two thick bands of discolored skin right below his wrists and above his ankles. The dwarf, still being relatively young has thick, coarse red-brown hair, but he shaves his head, only sporting bushy eyebrows, a mustache kept in the Chevron styling (think Nick Offerman) and of course, body hair. Durin has lots of body hair, it's everywhere, on his back, on his arms and legs, but most notably on his chest and stomach. Being a dwarf, his arms and legs are short, but what they lack in length, they make up for in girth, being covered in thick muscle. Durin's somewhat unkempt hands and feet are also proportionally larger than a human's. The dwarf's face, while being rough, is not entriely unpleasant to look at with a hint of what could be called rugged handsomeness. Underneath his eyebrows and above his big, blocky nose are a pair of hard eyes the color iron ore.

Clothing/Armor: Durin prefers wearing simple garb, usually a tunic, some burlap pants and a good sturdy set of boots. When he wears armor, he prefers the heavy stuff. Durin, due to his body size and type is not the most agile fighter, so he doesn't mind the little bit of mobility he loses. However, this body type also makes it difficult for him to acquire armor he can actually use. Currently he is equipped with a steel helmet, a shirt of chain mail under a steel breastplate matched with a pair of iron gauntlets and greaves.

Weapons: Durin usually carries around a hatchet, usually to cut wood because that's part of his job and he has a knife in his pocket because it's just a useful thing to have around. When he's expecting combat, Durin breaks out his large(for dwarves) circular wooden (Several layers of hardwood bound together and reinforced with hide. Further reinforced with a steel bass (the center metal circle bump on the front) and rawhide wrapped around the edge) centergrip shield, a spear and keeps his hatchet at his hip for good measure.

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Skills/Abilities: While most people find one or two weapons and stick with them, Durin is a generalist. He's learned how to fight with swords, knives, clubs, spears, axes, shields, bows, even flails and chains. His skills vary from weapon to weapon, but at the very least he's competant with most things he can get his hands on. Even without weapons Durin can be a very formidable opponent to both those armed and unarmed skilled in grappling, throws and locks. Even if he isn't as good with one weapon as his foe, he can easily switch to another weapon that exploits the weakness of his enemy's tactics.
Durin is unexpectedly good at escaping bindings. Rope can hold him for maybe half an hour at most, and chain shackles are something he can free himself from given a few hours left to his own devices.
Durin also is skilled at surviving in the wilderness. It's not a position he would want to return to, but he can do it.

Magic: N/A

Backstory: Durin never knew his father. He barely remembers what his mother looks like, and he has a feeling that his fuzzy memory might just be something he made up. A figure that isn't fuzzy is Durgar. Durgar is the most vivid person in Durin's mind from his early childhood because he was his slaver. Durgar was a human, a gangly thing really about 30 years old with one of his front teeth missing. And although he was a slaver, he was not a very good one, for Durin was his only slave, and he was never able to sell the dwarf off. Turns out nobody wanted a child dwarf from a shady, blading man. Not that Durin made it easy for Durgar to keep him, a watchful eye was always required for Durgar would constantly attempt escapes that only really failed because he was a child and couldn't think things out as well as his slave master could. Eventually, Durgar became fed up with his property and turned him over to an unground gladatorial pit.

Durin was in his (dwarf equivalent)preteens at the time, so he had to learn quickly. At this point, his giant size was starting to become evident, so through unexpected use of his raw physical prowess, he was able to win his first couple of matches that were originally framed as a slaughter. The powers in charge of the ring were amused at this kid managing to defeat warriors that should have had a simply time skewering him, and steadily began giving Durin tougher and tougher fights. During this period, Durin learned that the greatest strength one could have was adaptability. He tried to fight Durgar, but the pits had restraints he couldn't break, and enough men and security to make an escape run unfeasible. He went against all sorts of enemies with all sorts of equipment sets, so he had to learn to fight with anything against anyone. It wasn't pretty, but he learned well enough to make it through the fights by exploiting his available strengths and his opponents' weaknesses. When he was unarmed and had to fight a gladiator in full armor and weapons, he knew that his enemy would be overconfident in his weapons and armor, however, a sword can't cut when you're right next to its wielder, and armor can't protect your neck from being strangled.

Over the years, Durin learned the pit's layouts, its guards' schedules, and the guards themselves. He also learned how to break free of the shackles they had been using to keep him secure over nights. Durin had also just happened to have mastered a chokehold that can take out a man from behind and how to use it on taller opponents. One night on a New Moon he left, leaving behind him a trail of silent carnage.

The gladitorial pit had been located far out in the wilderness, so the next skill Durin had to learn with his finely hone adaptiveness was how to live out in the wild. A couple years later he had managed to locate a nearby city. The air was tense and people were bustling about more than he had remembered people being in his childhood. His language skills were rusty, but he managed to gather that a war was brewing. Keen to leave the wild behind him, Durin decided to put his skills to use and joined the army. As a soldier Durin was something of a loner. He didn't make many friends, and barely socialized, partly because he didn't know how and he didn't really like people. They had for the most part been monsters consumed by their own greed. Turns out war was not so much different from the pits. Long periods of waiting followed by brief moments of bloody combat, only this time, he was better equipped. It suited him.

Since the end of the war, Durin has made his living as a manual laborer. The work is difficult, but far less stressful than combat. And it pays pretty well. With his wages from the military and the money he saves from his frugal lifestyle, Durin has managed to buy a small house and enough armor and weapons to deal with emergency situations.

Name: Kayleth Liadon

Race: Elf (Drow/Snow mix)

Age: 173

Gender: Female

Appearance: Kayleth is about average height for an elf and a slender body type. Well slender might be putting it a bit generously. She's really skinny when you get down to it; however, she manages to pull it off. Her limbs are lithe and elegant, and her posture carries that same feeling of grace and regality with it. Kayleth inherited the skin color of her father, and both her parents had white hair, so the drow in her heritage is unidentifiable when phenotype is taken into acoount. Well, it would be, but her eyes are blood red. However, instead of giving away her mixed heritage, it mostly serves to make Kayleth look like an albino elf, which is fine by her. Kayleth's other facial features serve to match the rest of her body, long and elegant.

Clothing/Armor: Kayleth wears no armor, for she is no warrior. When working as a doctor, she wears a full body robe that is as white as freshly fallen snow. When off the job, she tends to wear simple, but elegant dresses that accentuate her femininity.

Weapons: Kayleth has a silver dagger that she keeps hidden on her for self defense.

Alignment: Lawful Good

Skills/Abilities: Kayleth is a very good people person. She is a very likable person, which is a skill in itself. She's an even more skilled liar, those who know her well cannot tell when she makes a fib. This has won her many a game of poker. Furthermore, she is highly knowledgeable about the biology of the various races, aiding her magic abilities and making her a very skilled medic on top of that.

Magic: Kayleth has access to blood magic, a little practiced art that could be considered one of the Dark Arts by those with a closed mind. Instead of drawing threads from the weave, the user fundamentally alters the properties of the Weave itself using blood as a medium. It works a lot slower than most conventional magics and is not suited to battle, being a ritualistic style of spellcasting with short ceremonies requiring hours of effort, but once the ritual has been completed, its effects are nigh unstoppable. Depending on the effect, different amounts and quality of blood is required. A minor luck or weather altering spell that takes effect in the near future would only require a few drops of any blood that can be acquired. A spell that would curse somebody's entire bloodline to doom and misfortune for the next 15 generations would require enough blood to fill a dragon. Old blood that has not been preserved through a special crystallization process is not fit to be used for blood magic, and the crystallized blood Is not as potent as fresh blood, making fresh blood preferred, but having pre-packaged stuff is always useful.

Backstory: Kayleth didn't have what you would call a normal childhood. Both her parents were part of a cult of demon worshippers that lived off in their own pocket of the wilderness, and she spent the majority of her early life learning the ancient art of blood magic. However, when she was 88 the cult ended up self destructing. They summoned a high caliber demon, and as payment for the service, he killed everyone present before leaving to further his own agenda. Kayleth barely avoided this fate by having been sent out to get supplies during the ceremony.

Since this incident, Kayleth has shed the indoctrination of her childhood and used her skills for good to become a highly skilled surgeon. She was always careful never to reveal her magic to anybody, she knew that if she did, she would be viewed with suspicion and mistrust. She also runs another healer's in Waeldeshore as a sort of competitor to Maria's. She is specialized in dealing more with injury than sickness, so it is not quite a direct competition.

[User]
Damn dwarf! An attempted spear to the eye again.

He took a slightly different approach. With the spear rapidly coming at his face, he threw his force into going to the side and slightly forward into the dwarf's direction while attempting to pull the spear with his left arm out of the dwarf's hand. He formed a spike on his right hand to impale him.

[Assistant]
And there we go. Now the demon had moved into Durin's effective range. He let go of the spear when Artholath grabbed for it, he didn't need it for what he was planning. At the same time he stepped in and towards the magic user, swinging his shield to deflect the ice spike and balling his hand into a fist with his middle finger's knuckle stuck out punching right at Artholath's throat, the other major weak spot. As he punched, Durin pivoted his right foot inward and twisted his right hip in the same direction, putting the whole force of his bodyweight behind that punch.

The great weakness of thrusting weapons, other than meeting a surface it couldn't pierce, was that they were easily deflected by force applied in a direction perpendicular to their path and Durin's preference for centergrip shields was the surprising amount of agility and maneuverability one could get out of them. strap shields were harder to lose and sturdier, but Durin found them less useful overall for defense and offense. Sticking out the knuckle on his fist gave his armored hand a single point for the force of his weight to focus on. Doing this could be a good way to get your finger broken; however, when aimed at a soft fleshy bit and covered in tempered iron, Durin was more confident that his hand would remain intact.

[User]
Artholath's surprisingly light bodymass made it so the punch to one of his more critical spots knocked him clear halfway across the street, a loud screech coming from him. The spear that he was still holding was embedded between two planks of a wall.

Although he was now at a good range to cast, his accuracy would suffer greatly. Trying to clear his head, he shot several small spikes from his lower appendages, half of which would miss altogether, while clumsily walking towards the wall, trying to pull out the spear.

---

Zargon watched Artholath be knocked clear across the street. He knew Artholath's main form wasn't very heavy, but it had to be a solid punch to be quite as effective. Ah well. It was time for him to recall Artholath; the mayor could wait. He would have liked to have the man killed first, but considering Artholath wasn't much of a combatant in melee against someone who appeared to be skillful, it was only a matter of time before the Dwarf found out his weak spot.

With that in mind, he cast a red portal on the end of the street, to the right of Artholath, big enough to accomidate Artholath's true form. Hopefully he would get there first before the dwarf could do any more damage.

Hopefully he sees the portal, period.

[Assistant] Durin did his best to avoid the ice spikes, but one managed to peg him in his chest, directly to the right of his left shoulder. An unfortunate shot in the weakspot of his armor, but Durin probably wouldn't be using his left arm too much without any medical attention in the near future. The dwarf spotted the portal opening and figured that the demon would be able to escape before he could make it to him, especially with the now almost-dead weight of his left arm and shield. Well, there was one thing he could do, it would be a long shot, but better than to let the thing get away scot-free. Durin draws his knife from his left hip in one clean movement and throws it at the grounded demon. It wasn't a knife designed for throwing, but hopefully it would find its mark. Leave the bastard with a good scar to remember Durin by.


[System]
24 years old
𝔸𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕤𝕥
paint & drawing

Biography – Adriana grew up next door to a Jacob Stacera, someone she became friends with since she was an only child to two parents who were barely home due to their high important jobs of being CEOs of major companies within the area. They got along really well and played together up until their high school years. She, being the less than social type, spent her time doing on line courses and enjoying a anti-social life outside of her one friend.

But soon he went on to bigger and better things and she stayed home. It wasn't until she turned 21 that she began to make more friends and ventured out into the world. She made some great close friends but missed her old dear friend.

[User]
You could feel the excitement in the air as more and more people arrived to the club and the roughly 35-40 people who had their names on the VIP list enjoyed the drinks and cocktails that awaited them. The buzz soon reached Addie's ears and the realization of where she was and why she was pushed to dress the way she ended up became too much for her. Panic soon filled the blonde as she tapped the bar impatiently waiting for the drink. Her flight mode active but she didn't want to be rude and ditch the drink. A cab would be easy to catch right? RIGHT?!

Hearing a voice behind her made her grin as she slowly turned around, "It's about time. With this many people Addie's about to go into flight or fight mode, and she's normally more of a flyer." Her gaze jerked down to see the drink in his hand which she instantly took from him. "What do you know, this equals the beers you owe me." Taking a drink she hissed softly at the liquor. "Damn that's good stuff, what year is it?"

Oh god, oh god oh god! More people… panic slowly shook her insides as the bartender finally placed down her drink. Taking it up she thanked him and attempted to pay but got waved off. "Okay… well then here." She placed five dollars she was prepared to play for the drink on the table as a tip and started to hurry towards the door. No no no, Jack can't see me like this, no no no! Her thoughts had her in flight mode as she took off towards the exit while he was surrounded by people.

Taking another drink of the scotch she pointed. "Look, she's running already. I thought we had a bit more time…" When Addie finally crossed in between Crystal's line of sight to Jack she called out, "LOOKING GOOD ADDIE!" As loud as she could causing her friend to stop and look at her as if asking Why are you shouting?! with her panic expression before Crystal pointed a long finger directly towards Jack, which to Jack, looked like she was pointing at the random blonde in the black dress.

Addie froze giving her friend a very pointed, 'what the fuck?' expression before she flinched. Shit… Jack was practically behind her wasn't he… Her fight or flight mode was cut off and she instead chose the route of dealing with a dinosaur where if you don't move… they can't see you!

[Assistant]
"Trust me getting Jack out was no easy task in itself. The man does not like the social scene as much as I do. But he's a small town boy who made it big. Unfortunately, he's a small town boy who made it big yet kept that small town boy personality. To get him out I literally had to try and persuade him that this could also be a meet and greet with the fans that he cares so deeply about because obviously, I couldn't just tell him that we were coming to set him up with the girl he's in love with but is afraid to say anything to" Robert said honestly as he felt her stealing his drink from him which caused him to chuckle as well. "That drink that you just stole from my hand is a very rare, very expensive Scottish scotch brewed in Eighteen-sixty-two and is nearly eight-thousand dollars a bottle. Whenever I come to any town I make sure that cases of this stuff are sent. And if not this exact one, one just as old and just as expensive" Robert said honestly. "Stick around you'll see that you like partying with a rock star and who knows you might even come to like the person behind the bad boy persona as well," Robert said honestly. He didn't understand why Crystal fascinated him as much as she did, he had never been the feely type of person that was Jack's area of expertise Robert had always been the ladies man choosing a different woman in every state, however, now he found himself drawn to Crystal.

Jack smiled as the people surrounded him and he began answering each and every single question that was brought forth to him, all of them except who Winters Love was written about. He hadn't even told Addie that she was the inspiration for the song so why would he tell his other fans about it.

"Well if she's running then we have to make this interesting," he said watching as Crystal yelled about how good Addie looked dressed the way that she was. "HEY JACKIE-BOY LOOK," he said pointing over to where Addie was standing. He could see that Addie froze as soon as Crystal yelled at Addie.

Jack stopped talking as he heard Crystal and then heard her say that Addie was looking good. Quickly, he whipped around seeing the woman he secretly loved dressed beautifully and he blushed slightly "Excuse me" he said to the fans "I must go and see my dear friend" with that said Jack made his way across the room to where Addie stood frozen from embarrassment "Well don't you look absolutely beautiful tonight. To what may I thank this pleasant meeting between us" he asked respectfully as he stared at his longtime friend and crush.

Robert looked at the waitress who walked by him "Could you bring me two more glasses of the good stuff please" he asked knowing that all of the waitresses had been told of the very expensive scotch brought by Robert. Slowly turning towards Crystal once again Robert smiled "Now that you've lit the fire it's time for me to pour gasoline on it give me a moment and watch this" slowly Robert walked to the bar where the DJ who was playing the music was "I would like for you to put on Winter's love for me please" he said pulling out a hundred dollar bill and handing it to the DJ as the song came on. This is when he grabbed the microphone that the DJ had set up and spoke "Hello and welcome to this beautiful club this evening. Tonight we are graced with the presence of hometown boy turned world-renowned musician Jack Stacera who is standing right next to his beautiful longtime friend Addie... Come on Jack dance with her."

All of the people upstairs began clapping as they heard about their hometown boy being in the club and then began chanting "Dance with her" over and over.

Jack began blushing as he heard Robert's words coming from the loudspeakers. Everyone else seemed to be pairing off now to dance to the beautiful slow song and so taking a deep breath Jack stared at Addie with a smile "I know that you're the kind of person who doesn't like the limelight having always liked to be in the background. I apologize for what Robert just did, it was not right but would you mind if I asked you for one dance, you spoke of how much you loved this song and I would be honored to dance with you to it."


[System]
Age: 17

Appearance: At a height of 200cm tall and incredibly muscular, it is pretty common to see Tzi shirtless when not in academy uniform, baring his body to the world. Shirts aren't really too important to him, so one has to remind him every time he forgets to wear one. It's a source of contention, but it's almost impossible to change his opinion on them.

Bio/Summary: An energetic and forward youth from a barren archipelago in the North Sea, Tzi always enjoys a challenge, throwing himself head-first into any situation that strikes his fancy. It's the reason why he was so willing to simply leave his island home one day, jumping into the salty surf to swim to the mainland where opportunities abounded. There, he drifted from ring to ring, fighting anybody who'd take him on for fun and profit. Sometimes he won, sometimes he lost, but his grinning visage, one that never disappeared no matter what trouble fell in his path, was imprinted on the minds of recruiters for the Military Academy, and soon enough, his martial talents were requested for a greater cause: the protection of the glorious Imperium.

He didn't mind. For Tzi, the chance to fight in the name of the Empire only signified excitement and wonder. Never one to shy from an offer (also explaining his frighteningly immense knowledge about all sorts of foodstuffs and how to cook them), he was inducted as a student into Cadenza, where it was hoped that his devil-may-care attitude and unshakable adoration for a good fight could be better channelled.

So far he really likes the place, though people have been admonishing his tendency to throw caution (and his shirts) to the wind.

Vessel: When not active, Tzi's Retiarius actually consists of two items: a carving knife and carving fork lacking in decoration. They are typically used during meal times, but when called upon, the pair fuses and enlarges into a wicked trident, one with a small anchor attached to its rear, that instills fear into the hearts of seafood.

Abilities:
Casting the Net - a net made of heavy magical fibres is produced by the Retiarius, usually shooting out of the trident's length to catch and trap those unfortunate enough to be in its way (whether they be fish or Tzi's foes). Escaping is particularly difficult due to the toughness of the net and its weight.

Catch and Release - the rear end of the Retiarius is an anchor that can be launched at the environment and others to latch onto or wrap around them with a glowing chain, allowing for either rapid movement towards enemies or around the battlefield.

Backlash - if somebody is in contact with the Retiarius or caught in its nets, any damage that Tzi experiences will be distributed between him and them.

Equipment: A portable grill; diary.

Trivia/Other: He is very well-versed in the cooking world (much to anyone's surprise), but can be incredibly critical of other people's cooking. He might've even been considered connoisseur if his descriptions were more flowery. He does however, have a stubborn streak over spicy foods (he likes them, but really can't handle the spice).

[User]
Esther von Degraff

---

Esther managed to catch the princess' order even as she was kicking her wind blades towards the rocs, simultaneously dodging one of two who descended and tried to grab her with their claws. She took a short glance at the church she pointed at, and realized it would indeed be a better place for her to strike. This building was simply not high enough for her to get an accurate strike at the rocs circling in the sky. However, she then heard Regina arguing against it, saying that the plan was terrible. Ooh, this isn't the best time for that! she thought to herself as she took cover against another roc. They couldn't afford to be divided at a time like this! In the end, she decided to follow the princess' order as she was their leader after all.

"Kreeeeeeek!"

One of the rocs swooped down towards her position. She decided this would be the best time to move. So right before the roc connected to her, she switched her vessel to its normal state and used it to do a long and fast leap towards the well. She then grabbed the rope there, somewhat struggling to pull it out as she wasn't really that strong physically. To make matters worse, the roc from before followed her and descended upon her once more. She quickly summoned her wind barrier, bracing for impact as there was nowhere she could hide in a wide open space like this.

And the impact was strong indeed.

At contact, Esther could feel the sheer force of the roc weighing down on her. She could feel the ground cracking beneath her boots as she gritted her teeth, channeling all her strength to maintain her barrier. They had a contest of strength, even for a short while as soon enough, their battle ended with Esther being thrown to the ground and the roc's flight path being redirected away from her. It crashed to a nearby two-store building, destroying what was left of the bricks and stones making the building. This would be a perfect opportunity for her to counter attack, but unfortunately, she was now laying down on the ground, her entire body aching from the blow.

Thankfully, it didn't take long for her to recover, as she soon got up, grabbed the rope, and leaped towards the top of the church from the outside.

"H-here's the rope!" she shouted as she threw said rope to the top of the city hall after she was up top, kicking it a great distance using her vessel. She then grabbed the tip and tied it on the nearest available pillar she could find, with her hands still shaking from the attack she just received. Then, she took cover behind it, as she tried to calm herself and her wildly beating hard.

T-that was close! T-too close!

[Assistant]
---

Regina heard the responses of her fellow cadets and couldn't help but frown in disappointment and adjusted her glasses. Battle experience or not, relying on such a flimsy plan with a low chance of success and relying specifically on the birds getting the right angle and height at the right time without any indication of some kind of contingency was not good in her book. Even less so when it showed that Gradon made a point of being "Imperial Cadets." In the end, it didn't matter. Imperial cadets or no, Princess of not, leader or not, their plan had a lot of holes in it. So much so, that Regina felt any other plan was better than this one. After all, her father told her that no plan ever survived contact with a hostile, or anything really.

However, before Regina could make any other arguments in her fearful state, she noticed Esther start to make her movements. Immediately, whatever reservations that Regina had were gone as well as any physical sign of fear. Instead, her mind went toward saving her comrade from the high-risk low-potential to work plan. Despite the rocs outside and the arguments of any of the cadets Regina bolted outside the door, sprinting past Althea who was near the door in what could be a dangerous speed for indoors. It was only thanks to her agility that she did not get hurt, but right now she only had one priority in mind even if anyone else didn't know it. On the way, she barely noticed Szeren firing her light crossbow at the Rocs.

She watched, sprinting, as Esther battled the Roc. Regina was not as quick as Esther with her wind magic, which was why she was behind. The battle ended with Esther on the ground and the Roc crashing into a nearby building. It would not be long before the Roc came back to its senses and further pestered them. She heard the sound of Rocs screeching and already knew that one of them found her and would either be swooping in for its skinny meal or about to be. On the other hand, the Roc on the ground needed to be taken down and this was the best time to do so. Regina made a snap decision to stop, aim down the sights of the rifle quickly and pull the trigger out in the open with a snapshot. The shot may not even connect with the downed Roc, but Regina was ready to meet her fate whether that was to keep running or to be in the stomach of a Roc.

[User]
---

World's End Strait

---

Ires looked up when Regina manifested her disapproval of the plan. "I understand that each of us has different views and experiences. Trusting one another might not be so easy as well. But we cannot afford to be divided so easily," the Princess appealed to Regina as the others began to put the plan into practice. "Even if that's not the best option, that's a hardship we chose as a group," she pointed to the others as they already mobilized themselves to actualize her plan, "Are you with us or not?"

Ires noticed that some of the others also showed reluctance, or perhaps disdain, for their strategy, but the time was running short. They couldn't exactly get any more delays. "I hope everything goes as planned," she thought as she followed Gradon, right after another of the rocs swooped by.

Meanwhile, "Alright, now it's time to put this show on the road!" Viola said as she followed Tzi and Esther, taking care of their rearguard. The heavily armored girl seemed quite psyched up once they decided upon a plan and followed it to the best of her ability. Right on time too as another of the roc swooped by with its razor claws.

"Oh no, you won't!" Viola shouted as she rebuked it with her shield.

The roc was quite literally thrown off of its course, struggling to retain its flight, beating its wings in an ungraceful manner as it tried its best to not touch the ground. In the end, the bird managed to pull back, freeing the space for Esther to execute the Princess' maneuver.

Viola followed Esther to the tower and helped her prepare the rope. "Have you even hear about the Knights of Legends? I've always found it interesting but never thought I'd be on their place someday... kind of," she added while taking a hold of the rope, after all, they clearly couldn't trust the walls to hold it.

After Ires reached her destination, she waited for Gradon to come and take the other end of the rope along with her. As soon as they were done with this step, their plan relied only on Leblanc's ability to look like an appetizing treat to the gigantic birds. Which, she probably was quite capable of; what with her... physique, and outfit, and... "What, in the Goddess name, am I thinking at a time like this?"

[Assistant]
Leblanc Farris
 [[ Location : World's End Straits]]

"Is this really the time for changing course?" Leblanc called out in blunt deadpan, brow twitching with an irritation gnawing at her adrenaline fueled enjoyment of hectic events. On the very cusp of letting loose without any need to pull her punches before a live audience and they just had to bicker about it. If Esther and others didn't go through their portion then she'd have been liable to throw her hands in the air and storm off.

Not that the Rocs had any intent of allowing the woman standing idle in the open any such opportunity, and it was not long at all before the Bait found a taker eager to sink it's talons into her exposed flesh.

"Incoming-" She erupted from the square with the avian menace altering its descent to pursue as her hands clutched the taut rope stretched overhead and spun herself end over end with her momentum. A glance to either side assured her that the more physically inclined were bolstering the support the structures with their own strength and she hoped her acrobatics wouldn't prove as distracting for them as the rapid movement would be to the approaching Roc. "Pardon me. Just baiting the line."

Seeing the Roc soon to strike Leblanc released the rope and shot herself skywards over the passing bird whose snapping beak found only empty air while a braided rope struck it's it's over-extended neck. Where it human, the rasping noises of a desperate desire for air may have actually done something to heighten Leblanc's blood lust, but alas this was the peak of her enjoyment. Twisting herself as though a screw, her feet faced the sky as her body drove downwards upon her prey, knife brandished to silence the ungainly caws with a blade shoved through it's eye and into the Roc's brain.

A waste of a perfectly good eye as a trophy, but there was still the twin to dig out if they so desired.


[System]
Appearance: Lei Dao stands at 6'10, and his beard is roughly one and a half-feet long, and his long hair is often worn in a neat top knot.

Race: Human
Age: 25
Adventurer Class: Crusader
Adventurer Level: Trainee
Mundane Skills: Prodigious strength and endurance, horsemanship, Polearm training (glaive), swordsmanship, martial arts training, First aid training, armor smithing/care, tactics and strategy.
Magical skills: AOE healing, AOE buffs and minor self enhancements.
Personality: Serious and rigid, Lei Dao is as sharp and cold as the blade of his glaive. He is studious and austere, and holds himself to high standards. Those same standards, he does not set for others, as he does not believe that he has the right to force his beliefs on others. Behind closed doors however, Lei often lets more compassionate and human side show. He is a poet, an artist and scholar who enjoys more mundane pursuits more commonly associated with housewives. His choice god is Yunchung, The Soldier General God of Tactics, Brotherhood and Martial Prowess.
Bio: Lei Dao Wang was the second son a family of three children. His father had been a war hero in the kingdom of Hanguo, and with his prestige, ensured that his sons would have the best education they could. Lei Dao studied and trained hard, emulating his father as best he could. He joined the order of Yunchung at the age of sixteen, and began training in the divine mystical arts. When Lei Dao was twenty, his father pulled the three brothers into his study and revealed that Lei Dao and the youngest brother were adopted. They would not be eligible to inherit any of the father's property on his death. That same day, the three adopted brothers swore an oath of brotherhood. The oldest would stay at the house and manage the household, while the other two brothers were to go on journeys to become able retainers for their sworn brother. Lei Dao joined the Adventurer's Guild for that reason. As wandering warrior and scholar, Lei Dao had fought and studied with the best and brightest, and was searching for new ideas. Taking a ship to Argonia, he was promptly defeated by another wandering warrior, a swordsman employed in the Adventurer's guild. The defeat and the foreign culture shocked the Crusader, who joined the guild shortly after his defeat. At the beginning of his trial, he had joined the guild for about a two month, and is still only able to speak the local language with a heavy accent.
Equipment: A Glaive that weighs 40 lbs and heavy armor.

[User]
The city of Dragoncliff lies on the eastern shore of the land of Argonia. It is the largest city for hundreds of miles in any direction, but even it can't compare with the great coastal cities of the North or the plains cities of the west.

Its name comes from the fact that eight hundred years ago a small city which was here was attacked by a great Dragon. The people tried to fight it off, but in only weeks what was left of the populous were forced to flee from the nightly onslaught. The dragon settled in what was their amphitheater, built near the cliff so that the sea and the rising sun could be the backdrop for the plays held there. For the next several hundred years other dragons settled there, laying eggs and increasing their number. The people tried to fight them back and reclaim the area, but they rarely slew more than a few per generation.

Then, nearly three hundred years ago, the Adventurers Guild decided to put an end to the pointless slaughter of the nearby people. They gathered an army of over one hundred adventurers and laid siege to the Dragon's nests. For weeks they fought, funded and resupplied by the local Lords and Kings and, when they were done, it was the few surviving Dragons that fled the city.

The Adventurer's Guild wanted to ensure that the area would remain protected, so they built a training facility around the amphitheater where the largest of the Dragons had made its nest and where its body now laid, slowly being harvested for anything of value. There they stationed some of their strongest members and used the money made from the sale of the Dragon parts to build a great wall, marking off an area for a new city to be built. In time the city grew, thanks to the fame they had won and its strategic location along the coast.

A group of Trainee Adventurers now gathers within that same amphitheater, where briefings for the larger missions were held and where lectures were given to those that came here to learn. Now, at high noon, an old Wizard walked onto the stage. Standing directly center, beneath the skull of the Dragon that once called this very spot its home, he motioned for those gathered to be quite. When the noise died down, he spoke.

"Greetings, I am Bendis, of the village of Ironcliff, to the North. I trust that if you are here then you have been assigned to Blue Group for your testing. Assuming that is true, I will now tell you what you need to know to assure that this mission is a success. First, the reason we were assigned this mission and not another is because I am the one who hired to guild to take it in the first place. My village was attacked by bandits and our protector, my brother Demis, Crusader of the god of metallurgy and the forge, Seril, could not protect us."

"Normally a skilled Crusader, even one that was sixty-five years old could have stood against mere bandits, but they had hired a Priestess to aid them, one who served the dark god of torment, agony, and torture, Vrediln. She killed my brother, then the bandits killed my son, who went to fight beside his uncle, and, when we refused to hand over our valuables, my wife. I gave them what they wanted and they left. The next day, after my wife's funeral, my grandson and I left for Dragoncliff to be trained as adventurers. That was eight months ago." He wiped a tear from his eye. "My grandson had wanted to take my brother's place as Protector of our village. It saddens me to think of the circumstances of his advancement to the position."

"He is in the village now, but we pooled the money we earned as Adventurers to hire the Guild. When the only Adventurer we attracted was a priestess of the harvest goddess Leall, one who had fallen for my grandson as they trained here together, I feared that we would not have our Justice. Three days ago, however, the Guild's dispatcher told me that I would be allowed to lead a group of trainees on this mission." He stood up straighter, as if he was trying to emulate a leader. "Now, are there any questions?"

[Assistant]
The twins had filed up with the rest of the trainee adventurers. It hasn't been long since they entered the Adventurer's Guild which explains why they haven't moved up yet. They didn't mind though, they had to work hard to get somewhere and there was no shortcut to becoming a professional. While no one was talking yet, Vince looked at his sister before asking, "Has there been no important messages from Lady Ju'tai?"

Celestia shook her head. "The only thing that she does is ask me questions about how we are doing and if we are learning things here." Was her reply, prompting his brother to groan in reply. He thought that there was some ulterior motive to this whole 'join the guild' thing. Maybe there wasn't and the Lady simply wanted them to learn more about the world rather than being stuck at that occult shrine. He wanted to know more about it but then they were all silenced by an old man standing beneath the skull of the dragon who had once claimed this city and that very spot its home. It's dead now, obviously.

The old man claimed that his name was Bendis and began recounting the tale on why they were hired for this job. It was a sad tale as this man lost almost everything dear to him. His brother, his son, his wife and his valuable, leaving him only with a wrecked village and a grandson. They wanted justice. Upon the mentioning of Vrediln, the twins visibly tensed up. The God of Torment, Agony and Torture. He was one of Lady Ju'tai's enemies. Ju'tai may have been the mistress of darkness and stealth and may have wanted sacrifices but she was never as evil as the other gods and goddesses. But she despised Vrediln the most. Legend says that the two fought and almost everything was taken from Ju'tai, it was a truly horrid tale.

Back to the matter at hand, so they were supposed to kill all the bandits, including the priestess. It was perfect. Vince thought that this was the reason to why Ju'tai sent them to this place. To help slay the priestess of her enemy. Celestia thought that it was too. She didn't care about bringing justice to the old man; she simply wanted to do what was right for her goddess. Vince raised his hand, "Is it safe to assume that you know of the whereabouts of these bandits?" It was a basic and obvious question. Should the old man not know about the place, they would have to spend hours upon hours trying to search for them. It was simply a waste of time.


[System]
Species: Twi'lek
Age: 16...ish
Gender: Female
Faction: Jedi Order
Rank: A Padawan under Master Tetsu.
Captive?: Yes, unfortunately. Things sure went wrong this time...

Notable Race Traits: The Lekku, or 'Brain Tails' are very distinctive traits of the Twi'lek, they are also very sensitive.

Flaws: ok, see these things on my head? Don't. Touch. Them. It hurts, and frankly I just can't guarantee your safety if you do. Alright, Brain-Tails aside... I don't like to listen to or follow orders, and I guess I can be pretty rash sometimes... normally it doesn't turn out to be much of a problem though because, as much as I hate to have to do what i'm told, I do respect Master Tetsu enough to listen to her. I suppose I should add that don't work too well with large groups either. Also because of my utter repulsion to authority, I don't really have a sense of morals about what I do sometimes. If the plan will work, I use it.

Skills: Umm, let's see... I'm good at hacking into things, like droids and microchips and stuff like that. I picked it up while I was a thief to help myself and others not get caught by drones and such. I knew a few others in the area, and whenever one of them figured out a new trick, they spread the knowledge. I've sort of made my own little fighting style, so I'm good at fighting, in a kind of sneaky way. I was a pickpocket and a thief for a long time, so... I'm good at that, and I guess this could be a strength as well as a flaw, but I don't have a sense of morals about what I do sometimes. Since I started learning to become a Jedi, Master Tetsu has been teaching me the Ataru form of Lightsaber combat.

Force capabilities: I can do the little suggestion thing, and I've been working on picking up small objects from across the room and bringing them into my hand. Master Tetsu often tells me I am a fast learner, and apparently I finished the basics of learning to become a Jedi in just a year.

Biography: Do I have to fill this part out? I really don't want to... Alright, fine. Before I met Master Tetsu, I was a mess. I never really had any goals or ambitions in life before then, I was just going day-by-day, avoiding the authorities and working as a thief. The time before I met Master Tetsu is kind of a blur to me now, I never really had anyone I cared about enough to keep in touch with, any friends or interesting events, so there wasn't much worth remembering.

I was kidnapped at a young age, to become a slave, but lucky for us the guy was caught while he was transporting us, so we all got to go free... and that's about where my memories start to blur. I don't know how many years ago that was, I don't exactly know how old I am, and I don't really want to talk about it. Now, I'm not gonna pull that 'I've done bad things in the past, but I'm better now!' bullshit with you. Yea, I was a thief, and a pickpocket, and I think I may have indirectly caused a few deaths. I had to. I don't regret the things I've done, or my reasons and methods for doing them, I just wish I could have found a different path sooner.

I was about 13 years old when I became a padawan, and I was found by Master Tetsu a little while before then, she was the one to convince me to try and become a jedi. It's been a few years since then, and I've apparently done pretty well with my training so far. Right now, Master Tetsu and I are on Coruscant for some business with the Temple there. We arrived almost two weeks ago, and Master Tetsu has lent me to the local authorities to help them with a case. Meanwhile she herself has left the planet to go take care of her own business in Ryloth.

Personality and/or Motivation: I'm kind when I want to be, and I'm a bit mischievous. When I'm around people I actually like, which hasn't happened in a LONG time by the way, I can be funny and lighthearted. Usually though I try to keep my thoughts and emotions from showing, just a habit I guess. I seem mean, because that's the way I want to be seen.

Player's long term goals:

Relations:
Master Tetsu- I'm her Padawan. Not much more to say. I respect her enough to listen sometimes, and I try to help her out too, and she doesn't boss me around as much as she could, so It's a start.
Sela Kythor- She's the reason I'm still on Coruscant when the Sacking happens. Master Tetsu lent me to her for a while to help with a case.
Xid Terrik- He used to be Sela's padawan. He's a knight, and kind, but that's all I really know about him.
Nazca Barsavi- She's a youngling, almost a padawan I think though. We are... very alike from what I can tell, which could be both good and bad.

Final Point - Secrets: My parents. It's a very touchy topic for me, because I was taken from them. I don't remember anything much of the time after I was taken, but before then I can clearly remember some of when we were all together. I know that they never would have wanted us to be separated. I remember their love, and I get very emotional when I think about them, although I often turn it into anger. The only person I've managed to tell about this is Master Tetsu.

[User]
~| Day 3, 18:05-18:27 GST |~
~| the Memory of Coruscant |~

After the chat with the two masters, Kennith didn't have much to do till they actually got to Tatooine. After near-constant search for two full months, having time which wasn't allotted to some goal was almost strange. Some might say he could've gone over old data again, but he knew well that would not be useful. There simply weren't any viable leads in the information he had. Any truly useful information at this stage could only be acquired through direct contact.

It was for that reason he went to the chamber that had been assigned to him. When he got there, he was pleased to see that the Ship's droids had already moved his gear in, so he spend a few minutes stowing it in the appropriate places. Like he usually did, he didn't have much. A few spare robes, some disguises and various gadgets made up the bulk of it. He'd never been fond of having many possessions, all that did was get messy. Besides, being on the move all the time meant chances of a lot getting lost.

After unpacking fully, he thought about taking some time to meditate, but he really wasn't in the mood for it. What he was in the mood for was food. Proper food. After checking the schematics once more, he strolled over to the nearest turbolift, took it three decks up, then went sternward through the medical bay to the mess hall. The former was all empty now, but he had a feeling it would not remain so long.

The mess hall was quite possibly one of the largest rooms in the ship, being both wide, long and tall. Well, engineering would be even bigger, but that didn't count. There were scores already eating in there, even one of the other Jedi. When he got to the end of the line and saw just exactly what was being served, his mind would not quite accept it. He wanted food, not nutrient paste.

He looked at the cook on the other side of the counter, then handed him a couple of credit chits. "Got some meat? perhaps a decent slice of Nerf steak? If you do, these'll keep coming." The chits were far more valuable than a few pieces of steak, but Kennith didn't care, he simply wanted decent food. If his bribery got everyone else better food as well, then that would no doubt improve the morale, something which one should never underestimate the value of.

The cook's eyes lit up upon receiving the chits. "Coming right up," then he whispered with a small grin. "Captain's stock."

"Excellent." was all Kennith answered. A couple of minutes later, he held a tray with a large slice of fried Nerf on it and some slightly indeterminate vegetables beside it. He'd have preferred some determinate vegetables, but that could wait. The cook would need time to expand his stock. Even if not perfect, the vegetables were still worlds better than a gooey nutrient paste. Not knowing anyone else on the ship, he chose to sit down opposite that other Jedi.

As he sat down, he smiled at the other Jedi. "Name's Kennith Rahn. Who are you?"

[Assistant]
~|Day 1, 18:55 - 18:58 GST|~
~| Aboard the Kaggath, Main Prison Complex |~

"Still doesn't answer my question." Xid commented, appreciating her concern. He was slightly amused by the image floating in his head over the petite Twi'lek tying him to the bed since there wasn't any posts to tie to. He was even flattered that she valued his life though he felt hers, like many others, were worth a lot more. "Besides, I feel alright for now as Lea numbed the feeling in my ribs. Most the bleeding had been stopped by the lightsaber strike." He pointed to his chest at first, then to his face. "And the claw marks have already started to scab over."

His arm tossed the towel over his shoulder and set it there, freeing up his hand while he showed off the mending scars over his nose. Precisely where the Trandoshan had clawed him. He felt more relaxed when Nazca has earlier tease and studied Shir, both for signs of unusual behavior from what she told about her capture and in the case she might've been hurt by the sith earlier. She seemed alright but he didn't trust her easy going appearance.

Xid's facial features looked surprised at her when she mentioned Pazaak. His eyebrow raised, her body moved closer and his mind glimpsed how closely Lea was earlier. Again, he felt heat rise to his cheeks against his will. Damn it, he thought bitterly and tried to stop it. His mind was thankfully distracted by two things: Shiri's question about him then Nazca, and his recent patient wobbly walking toward them. His head shot back instantly to see the woman's horrid stand then inwardly groaned, knowing Shiri would end up putting two and two together.

 The reason he wasn't officially resting like he should was because he had been helping Nazca. He wanted to slap Nazca as she frowned at the lack of deck most likely, her next words answering his first thoughts easily. Xid sighed in an exhausted breath and twisted on his heel, careful not to jarr Shiri, to move beside the wounded.

"Nazca! You need to be laying back down, now." Xid tried hard not to snap at her, and moved to press his own wounded body against hers. Granted, he wasn't strong enough to forcibly haul the twenty-one year old woman back to Lea but he was still going to try. He turned back to Shiri, having an explanation on hand to save Nazca's hide again while he gestured quickly for her to take the other side. When the two were siding Nazca, Xid started to whisper quietly, trying to turn away from the cameras and keep his voice low as possible.

 "Look, the reason I've not been resting is because Lea and I have been working on trying to figure out how to escape. We've already determined the cell has basic security. It's easy to sabotage and create a playback loop, for someone with slicing skills I can show them where. This allows us to make say a blind spot or slip out at key times unnoticed. I might have a way to make at least one lightsaber or two at best. Though even with the parts, I still need the most important element: a focus crystal. We have two choices, I can create a machine to synthesize one or used one from either a blaster or lightsaber. All three options have their pros and cons, as well as their chances of succeeding. Though I rather not think of the odds really." He said almost catching them completely up, adding one final point. "I think the ones who should wield them would be Koren and Alat since they are adapt fighters. At least better than I, you, or Shiri are when it comes to experience."


[System]
Alias: Supergirl
Age: 20
Personality: quirky, emotional, childish, optimistic.
Archetype: Half-alien
Powers:
- Flight (still working on those landings)
- Superhuman strength, endurance and speed.
- Super hearing is but a fracture of its full potential.
- Still trying to figure out the x-ray. And heat vision sort of comes and goes and has a mind of its own.
- Tactile telekinesis. The ability to enhance the powers of her Kryptonian heritage. Whether it's her strength or speed, she can boost her own philology and abilities. Besides that, she has also been able to create forcefields around people and objects, as well as lift things with her mind. However, this particular capability has also been known to mysteriously fail in certain instances.

Weaknesses:
Kryptonite. It will leave her much more vulnerable. And yet: Since Lara's only half Kryptonian, it does not have the same crippling effect on her, as it does her farther.

Appearance:

Character Evolution: Lara will be someone with an identity crisis, as she was someone who felt normal, but then felt pressured to be something else in order to help the world. She's on a journey from super powered to superhero. Girl to woman. Accepting that other side of her. She'll make mistakes (super powered mistakes, as well as personal mistakes) and learn from them. She'll have fears confirmed and doubt, if she's even doing the right thing, yet also gain confidence in the process. Maybe even a sort of rivalry with Solara. And maybe that blossoms into a friendship, maybe it really won't. In time, maybe the whole world will regard Lara as a treasure.

BRIEF Bio:
Lara's birth was long and difficult. In fact, doctors weren't even sure Lois Lane was going to make it. For the first time ever, the Man of Steel was helpless to save the woman he loved. Yet in the end she pulled through and gave them both a beautiful, little girl.
There was no disagreement on how they should raise her: First they taught Lara to be human. Then they taught her to be super. This initiative carried over to her teen years, as she would go to great lengths just to feel like everyone else. Though her parents did their best to teach her to respect, but not fear her powers, they ultimately failed. Even though the human side of her meant she never quit reached her father's level, she feared her powers. That's why Lara has never let loose, and only trained her powers in order to control them. Because of it, she has yet to realize her own limits.
Her telekinesis, and how she was able to develop it, was a mystery to everyone. In time, everyone came to accept that there was no other explanation than the conditions were right and it happened. It stands as proof that even after aliens have visited Earth there's still some mystery left. Lara Kent is simply a force that just is.
Like her farther, she can wear nice outfits and still not be afraid to get her hands dirty. And like her mother, she can enjoy the simple things in life.
Though really smart, she never had many friends. It was as if everyone knew she was a little different. Her occasional awkward behavior reflects her lack of social skills, but then again: Sometimes her one-liners are spot on.

When the need arrived for the Justice League to expand, Lois would not even let Clark talk to Lara about it. Their daughter had chosen another path. Yet, when Lara found out about it anyway, she shortly thereafter threw aside all dreams and desires to live a normal life. A choice that caused her great dread, though for now, only her mother seem to notice.
This was a whole new world for Lara. One where she was still just a girl. Still a super one at that. A Supergirl.

Notes: Yes, I know Lara is supposed to be the daughter of Wonder Woman or imaginary. But not here! :p

Sample Post:
"You have to be sure, this is what you want. No one wants to pressure you," Lois said and watched her daughter nod cautiously, while she tightened a bolt on her bicycle.

"Well, dad seem very eager for me to do it," Lara pointed out and kept turning.

"Yes, a bit too often, he has got his head in the clouds, if you ask me, sweetheart. But he always swoops back down eventually and sees the bigger picture."

"So just because I've got… powers… don't mean I have to go out there and be a hero?"

Lois' answer came without a moment's pause: "Oh yes, you do! Very much. Everyone should. However, you need to find out what being a hero means to you. And once you find out… never compromise. Not even for a second."

Through the living room window Lara noticed the TV was still on.
The horrible images of a sooted wreckage were projected onto it while a reporter spoke. With his grief showing, he described the horrible fire that had costed the lives of an entire family.
Lara closed her eyes and for a while she just stood there like a statue.
Then the remaining bolts started to shake. The bike vibrated and the wind changed direction, if only for a few moments.
"… Tell dad: I wanna do it."

[User]
EPISODE 2: A TRAITOR REVEALED
M E T R O P O L I S:

---

October 25
th
, 2018 - 7:14 pm | Justice League Headquarters - Metro Tower

Years of living in the slums of Hub City taught Victor Sage a few things.

One of these things was to never trust anyone. He had broken this rule a few times, what with Professor Rodor, Blue Beetle, Myra, etcetera, but for the most part he had held true to this. For this reason, his room in the Metro Tower had several locks on it including a fingerprint scanner, his computer had several passwords that one had to decrypt and encrypt several times before they could even get to the real log in screen, and his sugar cubes were never left in the community fridge; they were always in a minifridge he kept hidden in his closet, inside of a safe that was inside of another safe.

Most would say the Question was a nut. He would say they were still in their shells.

It wasn't odd for the Question to lock himself in his room for days, even weeks on end, in fact it was pretty much a normal occurrence in the Tower to not see the faceless conspiracy theorist for days. Eventually, he would emerge from his room, bad odor radiating from him due to lack of bathing, his already lean build looking smaller due to lack of food, his rosy mask contrasting with his pale neck due to lack of sunlight. He accredited these prolonged absences to research binges, and never once was it a lie.

"... The Girl Scouts. They're expanding their reach." The reporter murmured to himself, his brown eyes narrowing at the computer screen. Suddenly, he burst up, slamming his fist against his poster board full of tacked on notes. "Damn those skirt wearing, beret loving, cookie selling bastards!" He turned to one of his various conspiracy boards, which he had set up over the past two days, detailing the increasing number of crop circles being produced by the Girl Scouts. "Is the future immutable!? Can destiny be changed?! Will they allow it?" He shouted to himself, startling Amazing Man who was walking past his door at the time. Taking a deep breath, Question sat himself back down in his chair, preparing to continue his research. He began to type...

Zzzzzzzt...

Question was left dumbfounded as he stared at his pitch black monitor, wondering what happened. '... They're making their move. They need to get rid of me. Oh, those tricky little...' He paused. 'No. Would've been dead by now if they were after me... Just a power outage. Must investigate.' With that, the Question slid on his trench coat and fedora. Pulling out a small device, he applied his Pseudoderm mask to his face, before turning the device on and allowing the bonding gas to cement it to his face whilst simultaneously reacting with the chemicals he sprayed in his hair and clothes, changing their color.

"Let's see if there are any answers that can hide from..."

[Assistant]
Toon Girl

Things were quiet today. There was some explosion a few days and an attack, but most of the team was away on missions when that happened, and when Toon Girl got back, things weren't all pristine like when she left it. Two days of cleaning, lifting, and moving all the damaged items was quite annoying, but at least she had help with it. Of course things got even more aggravating when she was moving a large component of the training room, and some training bots activated, ambushing her and the few other team members who were assisting her with the room's reconstruction.

"Great. Two days of back breaking non fun work, and now malfunctioning robots. Someone really hates us." Toon Girl said, not in a mood to play with whoever was controlling these robots. These training bots weren't much of an issue. Sure some looked like her with a red color scheme and the others looked like Shazam with a white color scheme, but they were just hologram robots, they didn't have many super powers of their own and there was no way they could replicate Toon Girl's powers and their nuances. All they really had was numbers, super strength, and the relatively poor combat tactics that Toon Girl used for fun, at least for her bots.


[System]
Alias: Flake
Sex: Male
Age: 20
Occupation: Bounty Hunter

Appearance:

His eyes are often bloodshot, his eyelids heavy from sleep, and his body is usually deprived of food. Dirt crusts all of the jet-black hair on his head, the likes of which he never styles and rarely cuts. He never shaves, instead opting to use a dagger to cut hair off when it gets too long for his convenience. Usually, this means he has facial stubble and relatively short hair. His teeth are more-or-less aligned, and are mostly yellow, but he has one missing tooth on the right side of his lower jaw. His jaw is fairly sharp, and his chin is rounded. Overall, he has a rough look to him.

His body is lean and very muscular. He has dense bones, dense muscles, and thick, calloused skin. He is about average height, 5'8", and weighs around 130lbs. His strength is divided about evenly between his upper and lower body, and he is extremely agile. His body is iron-hard from years of combat, and he wears many scars on his exposed flesh, many of which he treated himself.

.

Personality: Harsh and exacting, but seeks moral good. Makes puns and jokes to himself. He has great wisdom and charisma, although he isn't too knowledgeable about much aside from economics and combat. His main personality feature is his control over his emotions - he doesn't like it when people learn more about him than he learns about them, so he takes great pains to blank out his expressions when around hostile influences. In addition, he is a loner, but is very sociable. He likes to play with other people and to learn from them as much as possible. His playfulness is rarely more prominent than a mere mischievous tendency, but he is prone to making games out of otherwise boring situations even when it inconveniences others.

The one most important part of his personality is that he is rarely serious. He jokes a lot so that he can keep himself thinking. When he stops thinking is when he becomes most dangerous, since he defaults to analysis of his surroundings, and consequently, the weaknesses of those around him. He is only serious when he is in a truly challenging situation, or when his life is at stake, and he rarely offers mercy or consideration to others when in this state, despite his tendency for moral goodness.

.

Backstory: Flake grew up under the close observation of her father, who was the captain of the Talgot city guard. Talgot was the capitol of Kiodomn, the kingdom in which he lived. Sheckels were the main currency, and thirty were needed each month to provide modest accommodations and enough food for one person to survive. His childhood wasn't very difficult since his father earned enough for the family, but one day, his father didn't return from work. After that day, Flake and his mother tried making a living on their own, but his mother ended up starving herself to keep her son alive.

To avoid squandering his mother's efforts, Flake ended up trying to join the guard force of Talgot. He learned after joining the guard that it was a burdensome job full of ass-kissing and chores as opposed to actual fighting, so he gritted his teeth and bore with it as he searched for another job. During this time, he weighed three options: he could try to get an honest job like a guard, he could join in competitions to make money, like a bar-fighter, or he could get an illegal job, like an assassin. As he searched, he found the perfect role model, and thusly, the perfect job: The Bounty Hunter.

He immediately quit his job as a guard by challenging the guard captain, Drake, to a duel. He ended up winning the duel, then used his fame to march into the Sweeper's Hall and ask for a bounty. From that day forward, his legacy as a bounty hunter began. He would spare many of his victims if he saw it morally right and they let him exchange their lives for proof of their death. He only had to kill a few of his targets, and even then, he never did so by accident. The Sweeper started to respect him quite quickly. But that's when the Hardest Night of Winter came along and he earned his nickname, "Flake."

The Hardest Night of Winter is an event that he rarely talks about due to how gruesome and horrific it was. The word "genocide" would be inadequate for describing the event. A mixture of snow, thunder, and monstrous creatures attacked the town and darned near annihilated the guard forces. But Flake teamed up with Drake and repelled the creatures by analyzing their attacks and telling Drake what to do. Drake himself gave Flake the nickname since he supposedly, "danced through the wind like a snowflake, untouchable, unseeable, heartless, cold, and deadly." Flake decided to keep the name, since it was the first and only accolade he had to his name aside from his successful bounty hunting.

Immediately after getting the name of Flake, the Sweeper of Talgot honored him with the unnamed bounty they had in reserve. Flake eagerly accepted it, completely unaware of the lasting implications of doing so.

And so the story continues...

.

Equipment:
- Armor: He has a set of leather armor that covers his body from the base of his neck to his ankles, leaving only his hands and feet exposed. Beneath the leather armor is a set of thinly-woven steel chainmail and thin cloth padding, and there are metal ribs along the forearm sections of the armor. He wears dark leather boots with iron-plated and cushioned soles.
- Weapons: He uses a straight, 50cm long falchion with a smoothed and ergonomically designed ebony handle and a weighted pummel. The hand-guard on the weapon is minimal. He has three balanced daggers arranged parallel to his oblique. Additionally, he keeps a composite shortbow with a draw weight of 60lbs in his rucksack(unstrung).
- Carrying Equipment: He has a rucksack with 2 cubic feet of volume and 40lbs of carrying capacity, one quiver with 20 arrows, and a bandolier that can hold up to 3 daggers. He also has a coin purse that is almost always empty.
- Other Equipment: Varies. Usually he has a set of spare clothes, a mirror, and at least one day's worth of food and water in his rucksack. Sometimes he carries extra supplies or equipment to carry out a bounty.

[User]
Raine glared at the guard's back as he practically ignored her and continued walking. "Rude, much?" She mumbled to herself but decided that, since he was getting her new armor, the most she could do was keep her sarcastic remarks to herself. With that thought in mind, the girl continued to follow him until he stopped in front of a man, one who she assumed to be a merchant since he had a few items displayed on his table at that time. For a moment, Raine found herself staring at the various items until she heard Derek's voice beside her. He practically commanded the man to put armor on her before walking away without another word. The two watched him go before turning to look at each other.

It was only then that Raine had actually got a good look at the merchant: he was a man who looked to be in his late forties, early late fifties. Dirty blonde hair was pulled back neatly with a leather strap and his face was lined with wrinkles of all shapes and sizes. His hands were large and worn, as if he had been working since he was born. Despite that, his eyes held a bit of kindness in them as he stood up from where he was sitting.

"Follow me, please."

Nodding, Raine followed the merchant as he led her to a set of steps that led to an area below the main part of the building. "Where exactly are we going?" Raine asked the man curiously. "Down to the armory so we can get you a new set of armor. It looks like your current one is a bit worn, don't you think?" He responded with a slight smile and watched as the assassin glanced down at her armor: It was true. The metal plates were covered in scratches and dents while some of her leather straps were hanging on by little strands. The sad part about it was that Raine hadn't noticed any of it.

"Well, I guess you're right…I do need a bit of an upgrade." She said in agreement then fell into a comfortable silence. The silence didn't last for too long, though, as they finally arrived to the armory. The area was actually much bigger than Raine would have guessed. Armor of all kinds were placed upon the walls neatly and in certain spots so that the heavier armor would sit on a stand that could hold its weight without collapsing. Another thing the girl noticed was the merchants. They were busy pandering to the customers' needs and sometimes had to climb ladders in order to retrieve the armor that their customer desired. Raine was surprised to see that even children were being fitted for armor as well but she figured that it was simply for training instead of actual work that would require them to fight. Then again, she was fairly unfamiliar with the area, so who knows?

"This way." The man called to Raine, pulling her out of her thoughts. She followed him once more through the growing crowd of people until they stood in front of what she assumed to be the light weight armor area. The merchant then gestured for her to stand in one spot as he measured her torso, legs and arms. Once he recorded the measurements, he turned and examined the wall of armor behind him. Raine then watched as he scaled up a ladder and looked at the measurement for various pieces of armor before coming back down.

"Unfortunately, we don't have any in your size, so we'll have to make one especially for you. I just need a few more measurements." This time, the measurement taking too a bit longer since the merchant had to measure nearly every part of her arms, legs and torso to make sure that everything would fit comfortably. Eventually, she was allowed to head back up while the merchant took the measurements somewhere else. As she made it back to the main area, she spotted the guard that brought her here and walked over to him.

"So, they didn't have any in my size and now they have to make a new set or armor for me." She told him simply. "And thanks for taking me here, I guess." Raine added under her breath, though her statement was genuine.

[Assistant]
To his delight, Drake saw the lady standing by the front counter once again, thus Drake assumed she had been measured already. "So, they didn't have any in my size and now they have to make a new set of armor for me," the lady declared, quickly adding, "and thanks for taking me here, I guess." Drake nodded, then asked, "Miss, do your weapons need replacement or refinement? There are few blacksmiths in town like John." With this said, the guard pointed over to a man by the entrance who was pounding a bastard sword with a narrow hammer, refining the edge of the blade. The man clearly did not realize that his name was mentioned, for he busily continued his work.

The wall behind the front counter had plenty of daggers arrayed along a weapon rack with other small arms, some models very thin with somewhat wide guards, some fairly flat-tipped, and some very odd models with wavy edges. Drake stood motionless in anticipation of a response, watching Raine closely. Small weapons did not need as much maintenance as his own sword, as he knew well, but judging from the condition of her armor, the guard suspected that her weapons did not fare much better.

---

Meanwhile, a great thud echoed through an open area in front of the mercenary guild hall as Flake landed a jump from a nearby balcony. The bounty hunter quickly opened the large doors and entered the building, his face solemn. Various people passed by him as he entered, giving him no second looks. The bounty hunter walked through the gilded halls and, after a few minutes of searching, found a mission board. Once again, he looked through all the missions, however he did not find what he was looking for.

Disappointed, Flake turned back and left the building, still solemn. Upon leaving the building, he jumped up to a balcony once more and climbed his way up to the rooftops again.*It's a wonder so few people use the rooftops,*Flake thought, pulling himself up by grabbing a hold of a few stable shingles. The bounty hunter then hopped away, venturing to another location in the big town.

[User]
Raine's hands disappeared inside of her cloak once Drake asked her a question about her weapon. Sure enough, she realized that her dagger was nearly in the same condition as her armor, maybe even a bit worst, actually. "I guess I'll be visiting your friend over there, then." It was a shame that the assassin had let her armor and weapon get this worn out without getting it fixed but what could she do? She'd been hiding out for a year now with her only way to gain food and money by stealing it; that was no easy job, especially if she happened to be caught by the person as well. Raine could practically here the angry voices of those people as she made her way over to the one called John.

"I would like to get this dagger fixed please." The assassin said once she was standing in front of John's work area. The man paused for a moment and looked from her, to her dagger, then back to the sword he was currently working on. "Leave it there." He said, gesturing to the table beside him. "It should be done in approximately two hours." Nodding, Raine thanked him before heading back over to Drake. "Is there a tavern around here? I'm in need of something to eat." She inquired; the girl needed something to do while she waited for both her new armor made and dagger to be fixed.

[Assistant]
Drake watched silently as the lady walked over to John and spoke to him about her daggers. As she did so, the guard turned around to find the merchant back at his place. "Your tab, sir?" the merchant asked, raising an eyebrow as he spoke. Drake nodded, then quickly added, "Delta six." The merchant chuckled after hearing this, then quickly walked down the stairs to the armory, shocked more than amused. Drake turned back to see the thief lady walking back towards him. "Is there a tavern around here? I'm in need of something to eat," she asked, looking up at the hulking giant as she spoke.*I wouldn't dare,*he thought with a quick grin.

"I know of a place," Drake responded, walking towards the entrance of the armory, "the Greener Club is the name. I suspect you aren't as wealthy as most around here, so it should suffice." He stepped through the entrance to the armory and back onto the streets of Talgot shortly after this. "If you want to find the place, head to the tax stand I was stationed at, go towards the money-lender stand to the left and continue straight until you see the sign. I'm going to find that devilish roof-monkey," Drake claimed. The guard then walked off, looking around for any sign of the bounty hunter. His dull, blood-stained armor barely glinted in the sun as he walked, the sun still low in the sky.