[System]
Gender: M

Age: 26

Career/Class:Soldier / Ex-Soldier

Weapons:
* Basket Hilted Broadsword
* Imperial Dagger
* Norscan round Shield (Took from his first felled enemy)
* Aged Pistol

Physical Description Cyrdic is tall and lean, but solidly built, standing an inch over 6 feet in height. His eyes are reminiscent of shaped wrought iron. His face is ruddy and echoes a youthful appearance, though battles and training had roughed him into the look of a mature soldier. He has quite the rugged quality about him. Two scars mar his face. One parallel to the bottom of his left eye, and another scraping across his right jawline. His legs are long and his his facial hair is only a coarse, 5'oclock shadow thanks to his knife. He's clad in fine and tough leather over a chainmail hauberk, with sturdy traveling shoes and a worn belt.

Mental Description/Personality: Cyrdic isn't a fool. He spent a year apprenticed to a Quartermaster (as punishment for recklessness) and learned how to read and write (to a degree). The best way to describe him would be a hardened, rough soldier at the brink of his youth. He'll use what he can in his disposal to win, though half the time it turns out he'll need to fuck someone up anyway. His fierce independence and rough nature can only be matched by his determination to survive. He's not tactically intelligent, but he has a sense of how battlefields shift and can command smaller troops with his powerful voice. He tends to have a take-no-shit (unless it's from a superior officer) lookout on life. He's amiable to certain people however, and will have a dry wit around those he enjoys (or to people he wishes he could be more honest with). While fighting and killing and marching has been his entire life, he's not particularly fond of being thrust into impossible situations and doesn't lack a healthy sense of self preservation. He's gotten quite tired of working for corrupt officers. He's a devout Sigmarite thanks to his upbringing, and has a hammer chained necklace upon his breast to signify this.

[User]
Cyrdic had missed Camilla's gaze, but there was no way he could miss the bottle. She'd thrust it into his face just when he donned the cloak. He blinked, and grabbed it. He'd never had the money for Tilean wine, so why not try it? The rugged soldier took a swig, and the drink caressed his taste buds with what he perceived to be the far off land his companion hailed from. "Tasty," he admitted. "Not as strong as I'm used to. But I'll say this much." He smiled. "I can't imagine something better for barge travel."

The next day or so was relaxing. It was almost unnerving to him, having been traveling the countryside to fight for the Baron of Ostland, and then surviving both his escape of said Baron, and the middle mountains. It seemed a bit too easy for him the first day. Though as the second dragged on, he began to feel himself relax. If only he and Camilla could speak to each other without feigning identities, it would have been 'lovely.' A word as foreign to him as Araby.

He'd just finished a meal on the 2nd day when the excitement happened, and he was nearly yanked off the Barge from the sudden stop. "That's more like it," he muttered sarcastically. It was one thing after another, he guessed. Still, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't made for this kind of life. His muscled arms had gripped the side railing, holding him in place for the most part as the barge had jerked.

The barge halted and drifted in a short spin, drifting close enough to the huge wall of flame that Cyrdic could feel the heat from it. "Ulfric's beard, Captain!" he called to Schmitt, the man barking orders now turning to Cyrdic. "We need to send some dingies out to help them!"

Schmitt halted for a moment, but only a moment. "Good man, Reiner. My men are beholden elsewhere, but if you find a few willing, Grab a few of the lads and head out there to help! You're on your own until I can secure the ship to shore."

[Assistant]
Camilla climbed into the launch with Cydric and a few of the younger sailors, more because she didn't care to separated from her Imperial companion than a desire to risk her life on the fireshot river. The dark waters parted as they shoved off towards the wrecks, sluicing down the sides of the launch in a smooth clean wake.

They encountered bodies almost immediately. The dead floated in the water, Camilla was no physic but she judged they hadn't been dead long. Leaning close she held out the glass cased lantern she had bought from the Pride.

"Reiner, arrows," she exclaimed, pointing at one of the corpses floating passed. Several long shafted arrows protruded from the corpse. She could imagine trails of blood seeping from the wicked points, lost in the darkness. It had been too much to hope for that it had been some sort of natural disaster. Her skin suddenly crawled imagining bow men concealed in the thickets by the shore. And here she was holding a lantern and everything, she tried to think unobtrusive thoughts.

"There is a live one!" someone shouted and the boat lurched sideways. Two of the deckhands reached over the side and yanked a weakly struggling man into the boat. The fellow had an arrow in his arm pinning it to his leather jerkin like a grotesque doll.

"Praise be to the Fisher King," the man gasped, his pale flesh trembling with cold and weakness. He hacked noisily, spattering a sailor with a fine mist of blood.

"The brigands didn't get through!"

[User]
The man coughed up water mixed with blood, eyes glazed from the loss of so much bodily fluid. One of the sailors kept him upright by Cyrdic's request, and the soldier bent down to examine the wound. He was no physician, but he'd seen arrow wounds before. "Hold still, man." Cyrdic told him. "We'll get you back to the boat."

With that, he ordered the younger sailors to row back, and he told Camilla to keep a lookout for any other live ones as they returned to the Imperial Pride. Cyrdic lifted the man over his shoulder to hand to the sailors aboard. He knew if they could clean the wound and keep him from losing too much blood, he'd live. "Hold..." the injured man croaked weakly. Cyrdic and the sailors halted for a moment. "Pirates ahead...hit us from the trees...and the water. Thought they were a merchant ship...My Brumhilda...where is she?"

He passed out as they carried him below decks. Cyrdic reached down to grip Camilla's hand, helping her onto the deck just as they were making landfall on the southern side of the Talabec. He patted her shoulder somberly.

"Sigmar's fucking hammer," Schmitt said. "Make all of the precautions you can, and brigands will not only ruin the trip, but slaughter good imperial men and women."

The Dwarf cook muttered something in Khazalid, his burly arms crossed as he watched the scene before them. His brown beard was intricately braided, his hair long at the back. "The ship needs some repairs anyway, Cap'n. Nothing too much, but she's long overdue for some basic look overs. That and the sudden stop unhooked a few of the finer linings."

"We'll need men to clear out the blockade, Cap'n," a sailor said from atop the main mast.

"And we won't go no further unless we're sure'n its safe, right Cap'n?" another said.

"I'm not Sigmar man! Give me a minute to think here..."

[Assistant]
Camilla nervously watched the darkness as Scmidtt yelled for the sailing master. The two men put their heads together and began an intense conversation with a great deal of hand gestures. The pale survivor was ranting something low and unintelligible about fish, clearly delirious.

As the sailors communed one of the passengers stomped up from below. He was a big man, heavily muscled and with a great black mustache. Thus far he had kept more or less to himself, although the rumor had it he was from Kislev. Camilla was uncertain as to wear or what Kislev was, but she had a vague impression it was north of the Empire, if such a thing were possible.

The man was wearing a tightly fitted leather jerkin and carried a vicious looking sword with a slight curve. On his back was a quiver of arrows and a small recurve bow of some sort of polished animal horn. A leather buckler hung from his arm, almost comically small for such a large man. He lost no time in locating Cydric.

"Hou! Imparial, whats say we go ashore and teach these dog fuckers what what!" his accent was thick with to many z's and drawn out consonants. The man turned and spread his bear like arms wide to the shore.

"Hou hear that dog fuckers! Ivan Petrovich is coming. Better get bak to mammy hey!" he roared, clashing his weapon and buckler together in challenge. The man proceeded to thrust his crotch in a lewed gesture, roaring with a belly laugh that shook timbers.

The whole crew fell into stunned silence at once, except the sailing master.

"Channel close to the north bank, we would be out of bow shot of the south if we could break through somehow."

[User]
An hour later, Cyrdic, Camilla, Ivan, and three Sailors who had claimed combat experience had hopped on two of the dingies and sailed to the northern shore of the Talabec. The Dwarf Cook had joined them, wielding a cleaver and a Dwarf shield he must have kept in his own quarters. He introduced himself as Skaldi Forgehammer. The eight unlikely companions had taken two small dingies, the boats having been dragged back across to the Imperial Pride via ropes having been attached to them.

The forest was thick and heavy, and if Cyrdic had to guess, they were within the lower reaches of the Drakwald. Maybe not as life-risking as traveling further in, but a dangerous place to be. He'd only been near the upper reaches once, but the stories of the monsters he'd heard made his experiences with the Norscans seem tame. Bullmen made of cast iron, Chimeras, Dragons, not to mention Orcs and Beastmen.

He suddenly felt as if he should have taken his bastard sword. Somehow, he felt it would have protected him from the more otherworldly beasts. Still, he'd never met something he and his broadsword had not gotten the better of so far, and into the dark they traveled. Cyrdic made sure to never go too fast, keeping Camilla close so he could protect her. Not that she was harmless, by any means.

Skaldi trudged through the thickets as inexorable as a bull, chopping clean through any roots that dared tried to impeded his feet. He seemed tireless. Ivan strode as far ahead as he dared, the big man's short legs surprisingly nimble, though he had a rolling gait as if he was so used to riding horses, that walking on flat ground was unfamiliar territory.

[Assistant]
Camilla wondered if the risk of being roasted alive had really been that great. Certainly it didn't seem like it worsened her odds of survival. Skaldi, if you could believe that was his name, made enough noise for an entire regiment, making even Ivan seem stealthy. The sailors that had come ashore with them looked to be having the same doubts.

"Careful, I'm not sure they heard you in Sartosa," she muttered, loosening her rapier in its scabbard. The glittering hilt had been carefully wrapped in leather strips to conceal its value and she was grateful that it also served the purpose of making her less conspicuous. Ivan Petrovich let out a booming laugh.

"Worry not little dove! No harm will come to you while Ivan Petrovich lives!" Little dove? Camilla cast a side long at the Kislivite.

"That will be a great comfort to me for about ten seconds, you know, before you are riddled with crossbow bolts or whatever." The big Kislivite laughed uproariously, as the the quip were the funniest thing he had ever heard. Camilla shared a helpless glance with Cydric.

They had gone maybe half a mile, pushing their way through dense undergrowth towards the growing light of the burning ships, when Skaldi suddenly shouted something in his grating alien tongue and dropped to the ground. Whatever the word was Petrovich instantly dropped to the dirt. One of the sailors staggered back clutching at his belly and there was a sound like the hissing of snakes. Beside Camilla a crossbow bolt buried itself to the fletching in a tree beside her.

Without further preamble a score of men burst from a slight gully. It was difficult to see in the wan light of distant fires, but she could make out men casting aside crossbows and drawing steel. They seemed to be dressed in a motley patchwork of armor and rags, though all carried clean steel weapons. There was a snapping flash as one of them fired a pistol, Camilla didn't see anyone go down. The men charged forth with undulating screams, clearly believing that they would overwhelm the small party in short order.


[System]
Age: 18/2
Species: Human (kinda)
Gender: Female
Personality:
Arrogant, self-assured, and ruthless. Darquesse is devoid of empathy, completely incapable of understanding human emotion. She further believes herself to be superior to all other forces, and enjoys the worship of less powerful beings. She is also intensely curious, to the extent of lowering her defences just to find out how much damage an attack would do, and how much it would hurt. While she lacks all empathy she isn't completely devoid of a conscience somehow, and almost paradoxically enjoys performing the occasional act of good alongside the meaningless slaughter.

Bio:
When Darquesse fully emerged from Valkyrie Cain during the battle with the Remnants, she went on a killing spree. While Pleasant attempted to talk her down, she merely ignored him and continued slaughtering the Remnants. While her efforts ended the Remnant threat to the world, she had no intention of stopping there, and proceeded to leave entire cities dead in her wake. A team of shunters (dimension-porting mages) was assembled as a last-hope defence against the unstoppable Darquesse, and she was cast into another reality. Left to wander the Multiverse, Darquesse was instantly pulled into the events of the Multiversal war between the Empire and the Resistance.

Abilities:
[Magical Prodigy]
Darquesse is able to see magic, and can interact with intangible magical beings as if they were physical. She also possesses the ability to negate or destroy magical spells weaker than her own arcane powers. She isn't able to negate offensive magic, but could for example destroy the enchantment on a magical sword. Her knowledge and understanding of magic also allow her to analyze magic, and she will often understand the function of a spell or enchantment after studying it for a minute or so.

[Elemental Magic]
The first school of magic she learned allows Darquesse to utilize and manipulate the elements. She is able to create infernos, fly, shatter rocks with a thought, and create vast cyclones of water. Her mastery of elemental magic is nearly unmatched, and her flames possess the ability to melt through steel and stone with relative ease.

[Necromancy]
While not nearly as advanced as the knowledge of older necromancers, Darquesse is able to use several aspects of Necromancy. She's able to create and control solid shadows with the power to throw cars and tear through steel. Her shadow walls are bullet-proof, and the strength of her shadows increases the more death is nearby. She furthermore possesses the ability to sense living beings, and is able to exert some level of control over mindless undead beings. However, she vastly prefers the destructive aspects of necromancy.

[Augmented Body]
By enhancing her physical form with magic, Darquesse is able to achieve inhuman feats. She can move near the speed of sound both during flight and on the ground. She possesses the physical strength to throw cars and punch through brick walls with ease. Her skin is also incredibly resistant, able to resist being thrown through buildings and hit with missiles. However, she often lowers her durability to allow hits to damage her, her curiosity driving her to find out how much something hurts, and how much damage it would do. She possesses the ability to heal her body nearly instantly, making nearly any damage dealt to her body pointless. The only way to kill her is to destroy the brain. Her healing can also be applied to others with a touch.
Universe of Origin: Skullduggery Pleasant

Other:

[User]
As Darquesse propelled herself through the air, she noticed the entire company readying it's heavy explosives. She smiled, as she prepared to guard herself with her powers. She could use her wind magic to stop most projectiles mid-air, or even send them straight back. While it was most certainly a valiant effort, there was no way such mundane weaponry would stop her. She flew closer, surrounded by her own little air vortex as she moved like a blur. Most normal humans wouldn't even be able to keep up with her at this point, and she wasn't certain she would even need to block the projectiles, as she could just weave through the explosions. In fact, she wanted to test just that, when things suddenly started going south far too quickly.

First she was hit by a blast of immense sound. She could feel it shaking in her bones as her eardrums burst, her mind temporarily flooded by pain before she turned it off. But the blast of sound had succeeded at stunning her, halting her flight midair. And as she blinked to recover, she noticed a barrage of missiles and grenades heading her way at high speed, already too close and too many for her to be able to effectively dodge them. Annoyed, she stretched out her hands in protest. A shockwave propelled itself through the air from her, blasting the grenades back towards the company of soldiers who had thrown them. The missiles were merely slowed down for a moment though, and she had no way of deflecting them before they struck her. Shadows sprung from her flesh, and she cocooned herself in solid darkness before they struck her. The barrier held as she was engulfed in flames, but only barely. It was annoying to admit, but those missiles could have done some serious damage if she'd been just a moment later with her shadow barrier.

Meanwhile, the company of soldiers was suddenly dealing with a rain of grenades. Without immediate action, everything besides heavy ordinance would find itself suddenly wiped out by the explosive rain. Luckily for the soldiers, Corban seemed to pop into the battlefield from thin air at that exact moment. As Darquesse was getting slammed by missiles, he formed a barrier that saved the soldiers from an explosive death, fulfilling his role as Guardian rather aptly. A thin shield of diamond formed like a canopy over the sodliers, and while it was shattered by the barrage of explosions it had taken the damage rather than the men themselves. Something that surely they were all grateful for.

Darquesse looked down, as she realized another magic-user had joined the battle. She could tell from his aura that this guy also used some strange school of magic, although it seemed slightly akin to what fancy suit man had used. Perhaps they were from the same universe? She'd need to figure out how this whole thing worked, but that was for later. She also noticed that there was a rather special figure among the soldiers, clad in heavy mechanized armour of some kind. This was most likely the figure responsible for the sonic scream a bit ago. She grinned, as she realized she'd be able to coerce the mech guy into getting her power armour. Or perhaps she could take this suit, if she didn't bang it up all too badly in the fight that would no doubt follow.

Regenerating her eardrums, Darquesse spoke to the couple as they no doubt prepared for another assault. "Hey, nice move with the sound wave thing. That nearly got me. Round of applause." Darquesse could practically taste the fear in the human soldiers below. A number of them fired, but these weapons weren't powerful enough to pierce her magical protection, and they were ignored. "So I figured I was just going to be killing mooks, but it looks like you've got a cool suit. And THIS guy" Darquesse gestured at Corban "has cool powers. So I think I'm going to take your suit, and I'm going to beat the shit out of that guy with it. If you give it to me nicely I probably won't even kill you." Darquesse refrained from attacking, giving them a moment to consider her offer.

[Assistant]
Alexandria Skye

"All units, fall back to cover! Do NOT engage in combat with the witch! I repeat, do not engage! I will handle her." With that command through the intercom her squad sounded retreat and pulled back. As this was happening, Alexandria activated her cloak and turned on her hologram to look as if she was still standing there, when in all actuality she was digging a small hole and placing a C4 sticking bomb into the hole then burying it. She programed the hologram to turn towards the mysterious wizard @Divinity who had just saved her squad from certain death. Using her sound manipulation, she talked through the hologram to the wizard. "I do not know who you are, but you saved my men, and for that, you have my sincerest gratitude."

The Hologram then turned towards the witch and talked from the hologram, all the while Alexandria was using her anti-gravity thrusters to levitate off the ground as not to leave footprints in the sand, then using her sound manipulation to mask the sound of her thrusters as she started floating until she was 100 yards east from her starting position and crouched behind a dune, Automatic Railgun armed and ready to fire. She then had the hologram speak. "As for you! You can have this suit when hell freezes over! And if you don't surrender in the next 3 seconds, I'll blow your brains out!" She then had the hologram lift her pulse rifle up and aimed it at the witch. She then started the countdown.


[System]
Age: 19

Gender: Male

Species: Human

Type of Hunter: Werewolf (Is armed with a bolt-action Remington Model 700 and two 9mm Berettas).

Time He's Been Hunting: 2 months

History: Ryan spent most of his life just skating by, just barely making it through middle and high school. The only thing he was ever really good at was shooting, a skill his dad, the local sheriff of their hometown, taught him at a very young age. Unable to get a job or go to college, Ryan was desperate. One fateful day, he applied for a job at a random chain restaurant. The interviewer, looking at the pitiful resume in his hands, told Ryan that he couldn't give him the job. Ryan asked the interviewer if he had any suggestions for any place he could get a job. The interviewer jokingly replied, "You could always become a werewolf hunter." Ryan, not knowing he was joking, quickly left, sold what little he had for guns and ammo, and went out searching the good ol' U.S. of A. for lycanthropes. He has yet to actually find one. As you can probably tell, Ryan is, for lack of a better word, an idiot. On the bright side though, he's friendly and kind to others, even if they're strangers. Then again, those aren't really the best traits to have in his line of work.

Reason for Joining: He has been having difficulty finding any werewolves to hunt so he's seeking out professional training.

Arrived: Just now.

[User]
Rama was among the first to arrive.

His initial appearance was a bit unsettling, considered that he was soaked from the head-down in dried flecks of blood. He had just recently finished a Hunt in Jamaica, and took a boat quite a ways to where he was to rendezvous with the rest of the Hunters.

I mean, who wouldn't be giving a second glance at a million-dollar yacht absolutely littered with dozens of corpses?

To explain the massacre, Rama had to explain through whatever splutters of English he could muster up that most of the bodies were from the underlings that had all rushed in once the vampire (unsurprisingly a newly made one) had panicked and fired off a flare, so...

Well, there was little left to say. The bodies were either dumped, if they were too rotten, or shoved inside for consumption.

Rama won't be hungry for a while, at least.

[Assistant]
For the past few days, Ryan had been traveling across the United States in search of werewolves. Starting in California, he had gone through Nevada, Utah, Colorado, Kansas, Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and was now currently on the coast of Maine. It had cost a fortune in gas and yet he still hadn't found a single one. Low on money, food, and gas, Ryan was at the brink of calling home and asking his dad to forgive him and let him return home before he starved out in the middle of nowhere. That is, until he saw a strange rumor on the forums of a website he used to try and gain information on his prey. It claimed that, only a few miles away from where he currently was, there was an abandoned fishing village where hunters would be meeting up. That's it! I haven't found any werewolves because I don't know how to find them. I've just been using Yahoo Answers and Wikipedia so far, but if I can get help from other people who do it professionally than I'm sure to rack up some kills. What his source of information failed to mention, was the fact that not all of the hunters gathering would be completely human. It wouldn't matter that much though, as he couldn't tell the difference between a human and werewolf's human form if he tried, let alone a human and a vampire.

---

One hour later and Ryan's red pick-up finally couldn't go another inch. After parking it on the side of the road, he got out and kicked the tire in frustration. "Not now! I'm so close!" he shouted. Checking his phone, he looked at the GPS to see how much farther it would be to walk. The battery on the small device soon ran dry, but not before he saw the words "15 minutes" in small white font. "Dang it! Well, no going back now. Fifteen minutes isn't too bad. I could probably push this thing the rest of the way." It'd be much better than just leaving a $10,000 car on the side of the road. Even if it's so old and beat up that it belongs in a junk yard instead of on the road.

And so he got behind the tailgate and began to push, and push, and push. No matter how much strength he put in it though, it wouldn't budge. "What gives?" he asked himself. Only after another five minutes wasted on pushing the immovable object did he realize the problem. "Probably should put it in neutral if I want push it, huh?" So Ryan moved toward the car door, shifted the gear into neutral, got behind the truck again, and gave it a good shove. That's when he realized his second mistake, not staying in the driver's seat to have access to the steering wheel and brakes. As the empty car rolled down the road and out of sight, Ryan just watched in silent awe at his screw up. "Well, I don't have to push it now. Hopefully no one takes my guns or anything. I don't think I left anything else of value inside." The red-haired teen then began his smell trek toward the rendezvous of hunters on foot, with his solid red hoodie making him stand out in his mostly gray surroundings. His hands stuffed in his pockets, he passed the time by trying to remember the words to Bad Moon Rising by Creedence Clearwater Revival.

[User]
It had been a long journey, especially considering its inception had been spawned by a rumor and a whim. Still, what point was there to life if one didn't indulge in whims once in a while? In Ingrid's case, 'once in a while' had translated to 'nearly every day for the past one-hundred-or-so years', but that was just how she was wired. She'd heard the rumors about an old Hunter gathering a rather... diverse set of allies through one of her many 'colleagues'. Working as a mercenary, she'd met plenty of people with access to a wide variety of information, and one such person had stumbled upon information regarding the village she was now approaching. She'd had to take a flight to reach her current destination, as she'd been in Europe at the time, but crossing the ocean seemed a small obstacle for a chance at real excitement. From there, a pair of friends had driven her most of the way. They knew what she was, and as friends, they trusted her. Even so, the thought of pulling into a colony of vampires and lycans had been a bit much, so they'd dropped her off a few miles away. Better safe than sorry. She'd laughed about that.

 After being dropped off, Ingrid had set off down the road, happily trotting along and humming to herself. The red-haired girl held a large suitcase made of black leather in her right hand as she walked. It held a number of things she'd thought she might need: clothes, a laptop, her 'food', and a compact assault rifle with several magazines of ammunition. As she walked along, cheerfully humming and swinging her arms, she rounded a corner to see a very confused looking young man watching his truck roll away. Being that they were practically in the middle of nowhere, she assumed him to be someone else who had answered the call. With a new briskness, she skipped over to the redheaded fellow. "Hi there, that yours?" She pointed towards the empty road which the truck had just rolled down with her free hand as she turned to face the man.

[Assistant]
A young looking girl with jet black hair and red eyes makes her way walking along the trail that is covered with a light layer of snow. Her footsteps make a small crunch under her slender feet. Over her head is a large black hood of a long thick cloak that trails almost to her ankles. The girl's height is unimpressive but she seems to glide over the snow. Only her footsteps are proof she isn't actually skating over the trail.

 Letting her eyes slowly slip up to the sky she winces as the brightness of the sky still seems to be a bit much. Its nothing but white in all directions. When she looks down it seems that there is an entrance of some kind to a village. Hopefully this is where she needs to go. The red of her eyes give off a slight reddish glow and suddenly she see's the world in a new light. Everything from her sense of smell to the hairs on her arm actively seek out blood. She identifies at least six perhaps more people in that village. Her nose picked up the scent of humans, vampires and werewolves. It was rather odd to see all of them together in one place. Just what on earth was going to be happening with this group. Her message at least had been somewhat vague though she hoped that it would out for the best.

 As she got closer and closer she kept her hand hidden under her cloak. Her fingertips begin to blacken as blood rushes to them. She didn't plan on doing anything but she also didn't plan on being ambushed easily if this was a trap. She continued this way till she reached the entrance of the village and saw everyone else that had arrived. She didn't approach any of them but watched silently at a safe distance.

[User]
It was cold.

It was a rather odd thing for Ivory to silently complain about, considering she lived in Alaska for a majority of her life, but she could never get used to the chilly temperatures. Normally she would have found shelter in one of the abandoned buildings within the fishing village, but she was much too uneasy to remain in one place for too long. What else was to be expected from an uneasy hunter, though? Being in the same general area of beasts that her bloodline had hunted for centuries wasn't exactly the most comforting, so instead she took to moving about frequently and investigating the abandoned village.

Now she stood on the coast, her gaze caught on a familiar figure at the end of the dock. She had questioned whether he was truly just an insane old man, perhaps driven mad from a hunt gone wrong, or perhaps a blood transfusion. But the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if she was the one who lost her sanity. After all, she chose to come.

A wet nose poked at Ivory's hand, and the sudden contact brought her back from her thoughts. She blinked. The figure had vanished. Ivory glanced down at the companion by her side, his nose still touching her palm. It was hard to remember, but the hunter wasn't the only one who felt uneasy about this whole idea. It undoubtedly left Tikaani confused and unsure as well.

After giving her companion a reassuring pat, she pulled her scarf over her nose and tucked her hands into her pockets. It was much too cold to stay by the ocean, and she'd rather not stay by the water longer than she had to. So she continued on with her stroll. Only this time she had a destination, and that was the bar. It was in better shape than many of the buildings in the village, and undoubtedly warmer. With some luck, the others wouldn't have jumped to that conclusion yet.

And warmer it was, something she was thankful for the moment she stepped inside. With a sigh of relief she took a seat at the bar and slipped off her crossbow and holster, placing them on the countertop. She chose to carry the weapon everywhere with her now-- there was no way in hell she was going to let it out of her sight at this point. Tikaani took his place at her feet, and the two relaxed, glad to be out of the cold and finally given a moment of peace.

[Assistant]
Ryan stopped in his tracks as he heard a feminine voice moving toward him. Next him now stood a pale, redheaded girl pointing down the road to where his truck had disappeared to. He responded by nodding to her question. "Sure is, er, was now. Hopefully it doesn't crash into anything or, even worse, cause any injuries," he continued. "I also hope that no one takes any of my stuff. All that's really of any value is my guns and ammo, but what's a hunter without his weapons?" He gave a light chuckle at this statement before making a loud sigh.

It was then that he remembered this person was a complete stranger and he hadn't really introduced himself. "Name's Ryan by the way. Friends call me, well, Ryan. Pretty hard to come up with a nickname for a name so short. So, you here for the big gathering of hunters, too?" he said. Ryan purposefully kept out the part about what they were hunting in case his assumption was wrong, though considering where they were he couldn't think of anything else this woman could be here for. He had learned from past experience that telling a random stranger you are a werewolf hunter usually ends with pepper spray to the eyes and being battered by old ladies' purses. Oh man was that a fun day. Seriously, even if I was crazy and werewolves didn't exist, those women totally overreacted.


[System]
"It was nice working with you, pal. But justice needs to be served."
Age: ~8 years

Gender: Male

Originates From: LISA: The Painful RPG

Personality: Harvey has a malicious streak a mile long, kept in check only by his sworn oath to uphold the law. His inborne hatred of humans often leads to him deliberately misrepresenting them in court, but this will not stop him from helping those in need.

Dandy Boy: A powerful gun... for weak men. This submachine gun sprays hot death without ever needing to reload, but is wildly inaccurate.
Mid-Life Crisis Hat: This really... STOPS attacks. It's something we all go through at some time. A ratty but stylish hat with a red band and a wide brim. Barely protects against the cold, let alone bullets.
Metal Shield: A STOP sign with most of the jagged metal removed from the backside and replaced with a ratty leather strap. It's not very protective or comfortable to use.
Harvey's Magic Briefcase: The mark of a genuine lawyer, this toaster-sized briefcase carries an infinite supply of pre-written, magical paperwork. The arcane jargon scrawled all over this mountain of documents has a number of mysterious effects on whoever it touches. The paper it's written on is razor-sharp and impossibly aerodynamic, too.
Water Gun: Harvey is part-archerfish on his father's side, and can spit water with enough force to cause heavy bruising and break bones. Harvey can freely alter the pressure of his water gun, ranging from what it normally is to a refreshing mist of cold saliva.
Slander: Harvey can sling fistfuls of insulting letters at his enemy, both infuriating them and causing nasty papercuts.
Wrongful Accusation: Harvey can pass out impossibly convincing and impossibly sharp legal documents accusing his target of heinous acts they did not and possibly could not do. This leads to much confusion and blood loss.

Restraining Order: Harvey can slap his target with a legally-binding restraining order, forcing them to hesitate when they next attack him. Inexplicably works even on creatures that have no concept of law or morality.

Legal Jargon: The most mysterious of all of Harvey's paperwork, Harvey can throw documents loaded with information so irrelevant and boring that it magically saps the strength of whoever touches it. Causes heavy fatigue and deep papercuts.
Several years before Harvey was born, the human race lost its women. Nobody knows who or what took them, only that they disappeared in a literal flash. Civilization devolved into violent tribalism almost immediately, with many people resorting to rampant drug abuse, sexual deviance, and mass-murder to stave off depression. Under mysterious and probably scientific circumstances, a new race of sapient creatures arose: the secretive Fish-People. Harvey, obviously, is one of them.

Though he was born a Fish-Person, Harvey was raised by humans, and even managed to find education as a lawyer. Of course, law school doesn't truly exist in the post-gynocalypse, and Harvey's law degree is mostly just bunk written on the backside of a porno mag, but that hasn't stopped him from acting like a lawyer at all times.

Bored out of his mind from managing petty human cases, Harvey retired to a secret village of Fish-People hidden deep within the swamps of Olathe, his home country. It was there that he met the man who would change his life, Bradley "Brad" Armstrong. Brad had run into some trouble with the Fish-People, having stolen their sacred map of Garbage Island, and Harvey took it upon himself to defend him in court. Brad certainly didn't help things, loudly stating that he wanted to have raunchy fish-sex with the judge's wife. Or, at least, that's what Harvey said Bradley wanted to do to the judge. The fact that neither Brad nor Harvey could speak Fish-Person didn't help matters much. However, thanks to Harvey's legal genius, Brad was let off the hook, and graciously allowed Harvey to join his gang in the search for Brad's daughter, the last female human on Earth.

Adventuring with Brad was quite difficult. They were up against the biggest, baddest gangs around. Han Tsunami and the Bathhouse Boys, Buffalo Van Dyke and his football team, the Bloodmoon Mountain Amerindians, Hawk Hollywood and his actors, the Eternal Wrestling Championship, the Gale Motorcycle Club, man-eating Joy Mutants, and even the all-powerful Rando Army. Many lives were lost, and some of them were from Brad's gang. Things took a turn for the worst when Brad managed to cobble together a boat to Deserted Island, where his daughter had fled. Instead of allowing his gang to follow him, Brad took the boat himself, leaving Harvey and the rest of the gang behind.

Brad's betrayal shook the gang to the core, and only three people, Harvey included, were loyal enough to cobble together their own boat and follow him. When they met up with Brad again, they had discovered his true motives for finding his daughter. Instead of wanting to use her to give even a slight glimmer of hope for the human race, Brad wanted to lock her back in his basement for the rest of her life, forever safe from anything that might hurt her. At least, safe from anything that wasn't Brad. Infuriated and offended, Harvey joined his two remaining comrades and desperately tried to stop Brad from forcing his daughter back into a life of isolation. Shortly thereafter, Harvey died.
Fun Facts: Harvey's favorite food is "Green Paste", a Fish-Person delicacy made of mostly organic ingredients.

[User]
It wasn't a perfect gathering, The Creator mused. There were still some notable stragglers, but The Creator supposed that they didn't all have to be there. They sighed, rubbing their temple briefly as they looked upon the mess of papers still strewn out before them. They had to find a place where this group could be tested, to try and weed out those who simply wouldn't work for one reason or another. It was daunting, to be certain, but The Creator had something in mind...

Soon, The Creator found what they were looking for. A land where the hills had eyes, fungus and turtles reigned supreme, and a single man could conquer an army. At least, that's how it was supposed to be. The hills still had eyes, unaffected by the Spark, but everything else was far, far out of order. Taking a deep breath, the creator laid the piece of paper in their hands across the paper that held the temporary world everyone found themselves on, essentially creating a bridge between the two. Of course, it wouldn't be a literal bridge...

----------------------------------

It was times like this Kieri hated the brace the most. If she could fly, this wouldn't have been an issue-she doubted Jasper would've been able to keep up with her if she took to the air, and even if she could then she'd have access to her sword and her magic. It would've been an even fight! More than that though, if she could fly right now, she wouldn't have run into what looked like death himself and his skeletal cousin.

Kieri's pale face went paler as she looked up at Darth Vader and Ainz, blue eyes shaking and mouth agape again. He truly did look like death, albeit with less red and much, much more black. Ainz's appearance did little to put her at ease either, figuring that skeletons should not be external like that. She clung to Harvey perhaps a bit tighter than she should have, forgetting momentarily that Jasper was more or less right behind her. She only remembered when she heard the ground getting tossed up behind her as Jasper barreled towards her. She closed her eyes and braced for an impact that never came.

She opened one eye slowly, able to see that Vader now had one of his hands outstretched and that the noise of Jasper's approach had ceased. Before she could turn around to check, Vader had chucked Jasper away and sent her crashing into a mound of land nearby, a small crater forming from the impact. She stared at the impact site for a moment until Vader spoke again, his booming voice and mannerisms commanding attention of anyone around him. And so Kieri gave him that, shakily working her way back up to her feet and letting go of Harvey.

The Angel bit her lip, knowing she would've been more than happy to explain what was happening here if it weren't for the damned brace. She was about to go through the same routine of trying to mime to these two newcomers what she wanted when the blue light happened. Kieri froze in place and glanced over her shoulder slowly.

It was an electric blue pulsing ball of light, perhaps five meters or so behind The Engineer, that glowed brightly enough to be seen all around this small island. It was hard to stare directly at, Kieri having to shield her eyes just to look at it. It was almost like a blue star, she figured. At that moment, the noise of shifting ruble hit Kieri's ears, and she turned towards where Jasper had been tossed away, watching as the Quartz warrior emerged from the wreckage with merely a few scuff marks.

Jasper shook her head as she stood up, groaning for a moment before fixing her eyes back on to Harvey and Kieri. At least she did until she realized what was happening just a few short feet away from her. Her eyes were drawn to it, eyebrow quirking a bit in surprise. 'Blue Diamond must have gotten word of my disappearance.' She thought optimistically, but it was not meant to be. After a few moments, the ball of light started to form and shape, eventually making a solid stone arch with the same bright blue light swirling in the middle of it. On the keystone of the arch was a wooden plaque that read 'Toad Town'.

A ways away, York could see the pulsing blue light from the forest as it lit up the sky like a light show. He watched it in fascination, rubbing his chin a few times before it ended as the portal formed. When it finished, York spoke up. "Looks like something we should investigate. Don't you agree, Zach?" York spoke aloud.

[Assistant]
Ainz

Ainz was not fazed about the portal, he was used to seeing portals like this. He gave it some thought to enter or not, but waited on Vader's choice to enter. Or anyone to enter it first. He glanced down at the Angel and took note of the choker around Kieri's neck. It seemed to be a little uncomfortable with it on. But that could be the fact that she was in front of two beings that brought fear and such.

I never noticed that before. Would she be scared if I try to help? I may need to set some conditions first before I analyse it. Ainz hummed a little, moving forwards to take a better look at the brace. "Be still and no harm will come. Can you promise the same thing?"

Ainz didn't wait for a response and lifted one hand, subconsciously activating the Appraisal Item spell to get a better look on things. Seems to suppress the magical abilities, not a World Item, but a lesser version of Slave collars.

He hummed again, staring hard at Kieri through his empty eye sockets. "I'll take this off, if you will follow myself and the Sith Lord here. If you refuse... You can leave that to your imagination." It wasn't a question, more like a demand. More Allies meant more meat sheilds or to raise an army.

---

Ken

Ken felt a sting on his left bicep, cringing a little while forgetting that he was in a tree. He landed on his back, which cause a shock to run through his body. The stupid cooler was still in the bag that he was carrying, he bit his lower lip to withhold a scream, but that didn't make the matter any better. With his fall, he made a loud thud, which might have alerted the two bidding behind a bush. This wasn't his day.

[User]
Roland of Gilead paused for a moment to contemplate the newcomer's question. Did he remember how he got here? The entire introduction of the setting seemed a little rushed, and most of his attention was focused on self preservation during the first few moments. Roland took a moment to collect his thoughts and really think about his forced transportation into this world. After a brief collection of seconds, he let out a sigh.

"I don't recall how I got here. The final moments that I was conscious in the last world are the last moments I remember before waking up here." Roland explained to York being careful not to reveal any sensitive information about his quest in mid-world; he could not know whether this entire situation was an illusion set up by the man in black, or worse...the Crimson King. He would glance back over his shoulder once more to assess where the armor clad knight and the fool with a sword equal to his torso were doing.

The pair appeared to be exchanging tense words, as an ominous glowing cannon remained pointed in the face of the dark haired man. Roland could not hear what they were saying despite his sharp senses, but whatever it was it was not reaching any conclusion. All of a sudden a bright flash emanated throughout the landscape from what seemed like a quarter of a mile southeast of his and York's position. Roland had to make a decision. Was the spaceship and potential adversaries over in this area a more important place to observe than the seemingly godly illumination to the south? A fire burned in his belly saying no. 'Must be Ka' Roland thought to himself.

Roland shifted his blaze blue eyes over to the man in the suit he had just met. The same fire in his belly that told him to move towards the light told him that this man was here to help him in this diversion of a quest. A temporary ka-tet beginning to form? Roland knew not what tricks it played with him this day. Scoffing and finally making a decision, the cowboy addressed York. "We should head over there. Whatever these two are doing, I believe we best leave it up to them." He paused for a minute and extended his hand outwards towards the slick looking York. "My name is Roland of Gilead, last of the line of eld and their gunslingers." The words he barely ever had the opportunity to say anymore reverberated through the air. A small aura of darkness could always be felt when he said them.

Once the greeting was over, Roland would begin a low jog away from the bush southwards towards the light. He assumed York would follow closely.

[Assistant]
Harvey knew when a bad situation was about to turn worse. These two lunatics in black costumes were clearly the person who would desperately try to control other people, even if they didn't have the power to exert it. He spared a glance behind him, and noticed that something that was almost but not quite unlike a doorway had formed some distance away.

Harvey knew a little bit about mysterous doorways. Back when they'd dealt with Wally-- good god, Wally, what a horrible thing-- Brad had somehow managed to turn a normal-looking cavern into a nightmarish stairway filled to the brim with spiders with human faces. Harvey decided that plunging headfirst into what might be another stairway filled with horrible things was better than dealing with these Rando wannabes right now.

"Hate to break it to you, champ," Harvey said to Vader, "but I'm not the one who brought you here. If you want someone to blame, talk to the orange guy."

An uncomfortable gurgling noise rose from Harvey's guts. With an indescribable wet sound, Harvey spewed a torrent of water straight out of his mouth. Harvey flew backwards, propelled by his own saliva, and shot straight into the gleaming blue doorway.


[System]
BASIC
Goes By (Nicknames): None currently available.
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: Human

APPEARANCE

Face Claim (Actor/Actress They're Played By): TBA / I've yet to find an actor for this character.
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Blue
Skin Tone: Slightly pale.
Height: 6'2
Weight: 170lbs
Build: Lithe, somewhat muscular.
Weapons: Twin swords, multiple daggers and knives hidden on him.

Overall Appearance:

Dark features, Visible, jagged scar that runs down his right eye. Various scars are hidden underneath his clothing.

Ghent is often clad in black or dark grays.
Most of his clothes are made from black leather; his cloak has a hood and a mask to cover the lower half of his face if needed. He has various weaponry concealed; he often wears fingerless gloves, laced up bracers, and boots.

PERSONALITY

Likes: Gold.
Dislikes: Talking, poverty, people in general.
Strengths: Picking locks, leadership, agility.
Weaknesses: Stubbornness, Greed.
Fears: Loss, failure.

Overall Personality:

Stubborn | Calculating | Complicated | Quiet | Incredulous | Shrewd

Ghent's family was very often poor and lived in a lower part of a small, poverty-stricken town. His mother passed away shortly after giving birth to her second son, Garth. Ghent was ten years in age when she passed.

Ghent's father turned to drinking heavily and he came to blame his children for the loss of his wife. Fearing for Garth, Ghent took matters into his own hands; at the age of thirteen, he took his younger brother and left home, never once looking back.

Life on the road was not an easy one, but Ghent was determined to tough it out so that they would not have to return to their father. At first, Ghent began with petty theft; he stole what was needed in order to keep them alive, they took shelter where they could and lied whenever questioned. As the years went on, they moved up in the world. After years of practice, Ghent became a highly skilled thief. This was the start of a life he would live well past his teenage years.

* * *

Ghent has an eerie calmness about him and his emotions are seldom ever shown. Because of this, he is very difficult to read -- almost impossibly so. Ghent handles matters in a diplomatic way and doesn't often resort to violence unless necessary. For the most part, he is quiet and reserved, therefore much of his past is unknown.

Deep down, Ghent does have a heart, though he does his best not to show it. He'd be the last to admit it, but he has a soft spot for those in need.

BACKGROUND

Date of Birth: ? Have to calculate that. ,_,
Place of Birth: Outskirts of Laketown. Not quite within the town, though close.

Family Relations:

- Garth (younger brother)
- Lydia (Mother; deceased)
- Vincent (Father)
- Kaiden (cousin)

[User]
Kili felt his blood go cold as the threats were made. "We didn't mean for this to happen!" He raised his voice above the others, the fear evident in his eyes. "It was an accident -- our uncle couldn't have known," he struggled to free himself, but the men were far stronger than he could ever hope to be. Gripped with worry, he watched as one of the men drew a knife towards his brother. "NO!"
By now, Oin and Bofur had come to help, but getting through the mob was easier said than done.

Before further action could be taken, Saeril had intervened to prevent this situation from going any further.
"You heard the she-elf. Be on your way." Their newest comrade helped break the crowd up, hand near the hilt of his sword. If they tried something, he would draw the weapon.

The men were all bark and no bite. Cowardly as they were, they backed off. "You'll be sorry for this!" A woman shouted, and others were quick to agree with her. "Should we see the likes of you again, you'll regret it." A young man no older than Fili was the one to make this threat.

Now released, Kili was quick to regroup with the others, shaken by what had almost come to pass. Seeing Fili hug their godmother, Kili hugged both, heartbroken. Somehow, Erebor didn't seem quite so important anymore.

[Assistant] Saeril held the brothers in her arms, resting her hand against each of their backs to hold them close. Fili really hugged her to thank her, so he let go; Kili still in her arms. "Thank you, Delva. We couldn't thank you enough for you to watch over us", he gave a sad smile before walking off to help the others push a boat into the water. The she-elf held the young brunette in her arms, feeling his distress and his heart break. Now, she regretted ever telling him to stay away. "Shh...", she gently told him, comforting him. "We're almost there", it was to help cheer him up again to pursue his dream.

[User] Kili was hurt and confused. Back in Ered Luin, they were safe and welcomed by their people. Here, they were hated. They were being held responsible for Smaug destroying Laketown. "They're right, aren't they?" Very slightly, he pulled back from their hug a bit in order to read his godmother's expression. "They lost their homes because of us..." The idea saddened him; Kili had grown up hearing the stories of how they'd lost Erebor, and now the people of Laketown were in the very same predicament. "Isn't there anything we can do?"

[Assistant]
Saeril gave a sad smile once she pulled away from him, also looking at him when he asked about their downgraded position. In truth, dwarves were usually a useless, selfish race; they were greedy, ignorant, stubborn, and temperamental. To just hear this coming from the people she cared for the most, it was traumatizing. She never thought him or his kin to be below others, not even those of men. But they were dwarves; it was in their blood to be oblivious of their mistakes. However, the she-elf couldn't bear to see that in the brothers or their family. Especially the royal Durin family. If it helped make him feel any better, she didn't answer him, afraid to be honest with him of their predicament. But in reality, it was their uncle's decision to put their lives at risk. His only heirs!

Stroking his dark-brown hair, Saeril tried to keep her brave face on, but with the depressing tension, she just couldn't. "I don't know, son of Durin. All we can do is get to the mountain. I'll reason with Thorin. I promise", and she she did. Her godsons' hearts were in confusion, and she needed to clear it up with their uncle; the patient zero of the firestorm. "Everything will be okay", she softly said, before placing a kiss on his forehead, giving him her motherly touch to comfort him, and leading him to the boat that was about to leave. Everything was going to be alright...

[User]
Saeril's lack of reply only fueled Kili's inner worries. Was she avoiding his question because she did not know the answer, or was she avoiding telling him the truth because she did know? Brows knit, he watched her, though his troubled expression seemed to relax a little when she'd kissed his forehead.
As the she-elf lead the way towards the boat, Kili followed closely, unable to make eye contact with the people of Laketown. Right now, he felt ashamed, but he also had hope that his uncle could somehow make this right.

Now to the boat, Kili climbed aboard, then offered his godmother a hand. The man from earlier boarded as well, and Kili's mouth dropped in protest. Surely he wasn't coming...was he?

"You alright there, lad?" Bofur had seen what had happened earlier. Seeing Thorin's nephews threatened was not a sight he liked; they were were being held responsible for something they'd taken no part in. "Oh, this is Cenrid," he nodded towards their newest member. "Least...that's what I thought he said his name was."

"You heard correctly." Cenrid looked to Kili briefly, then moved aside so that the others might board. Evening would soon be upon them, and they had a long way to go.

Kili wasn't sure how to feel about Cenrid joining them. He hadn't much experience in dealing with humans, and the experience he did have, he did not like it. Humans seemed to look down upon them, just as the elves did. Not Saeril, though.

Without a word, Kili sat down next to his godmother, thankful for the chance to rest a bit. The boat moved along, and all was quiet, leaving the youngest deep in thought. In times such as these, he missed his mother, and he missed their home in Ered Luin. The journey had taken a dark turn, and he wondered if he would ever be able to fulfill his promise to her.
Carefully, Kili removed the runestone from his pocket and turned the smooth stone over a few times, then handed it to his godmother so that she might see the engraving.
"I promised Mum that I would come back to her, once the journey is done," he explained, voice low so that the conversation would only be between them. "It's very important to me...and I want you to have this."

[Assistant]
Saeril boarded the boat with the help of Kili, and she took notice upon Fili helping push the watercraft away from shore with the oar. She even looked upon the stranger, whose name was now called "Cenrid". A typical name for a typical human, and for one, she wasn't sure about this human's prescence near her and the others. All she felt was an uneasy, nagging feeling, as if he was up to no good, and she didn't like it.

Allowing the youngest to lean against her, she allowed a cloaked arm to cover him like a blanket, as well as allowing her hand to stroke the side of her head. Taking notice upon Kili showing her his runestone, she hesitated to take it. "Kili...I can't", the she-elf looked away, closing her eyes in shame, again.

[User]
Confused, Kili sat up a bit straighter. Why would she not accept his gift?
"But I want you to have it," this time, he was more insistent, and he placed the runestone to her palm, closing her fingers around it with his hand. "You deserve it...you've done so much for me, for Fili...for all of us."

Cenrid pretended not to notice this exchange, but he did. Inwardly, he had plans of his own, but now was not the time. To avoid suspicion, he helped Fili row their boat, quiet and calculating.

[Assistant]
Kili wasn't the only one confused; she was, as well. Saeril flinched a little once she felt the youngest take her hand, and place the stone there. As much as she wanted to keep him close, the she-elf was scared for his well-being. What if he hurts him? Due to her "episodes", she just knows that the darkness will take over at any time. The real question was: how would he feel if he learned about the things she did? In reality, she knew that she was dangerous, and her crimes made her a monster. How could he and his brother ever love a monster?

Mentally, Saeril thought that she and Kili went over this; that he wasn't afraid of her in any way. But this was so much more that than what he emphasized. Opening her palm to see the stone, the she-elf sniffed at his insistence; proof of his love and devotion. Despite her warning of telling him to stay away, and be reluctant towards his intimacy, she couldn't deny the gift, or him, for that matter. Nodding, the she-elf hugged him, keeping him close, and on the verge to shed tears of happiness.

[User]
For a brief moment in time, Kili feared Saeril would not accept his gift. To his relief, she did accept, and he smiled for the first time in a long while. The runestone meant the world to Kili, and so did his Delva. In his eyes, there could have been no other more worthy nor deserving to have this gift given to them.

Affectionate as he often was, Kili returned the hug, feeling the smallest bit of hope again. Perhaps things would turn out okay. "Thank you for everything you've done," he told her through the embrace. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here...you've saved my life more than once."

[Assistant]
The she-elf held the runestone in her hand the whole time she embraced him. Elves were not known to cry, but Saeril did feel her eyes water in joy. Maybe he broke a barrier within her heart that held the strongest of emotions that her kind were not prone to express. This made Kili the first to even do so. Stroking the back of his head, she felt her earlier anger die down, but not completely. Thorin was to blame for putting his heirs' lives at risk. She will hold onto her promise to talk to him; for Kili and for Fili.

On the bright side, they were almost in Erebor, the strong household of Durin's folk, and the group walked the desolated plains to the Lonely Moutain. It was much larger up close than it was far away, and the ashy ruins left by the dragon were the first to spot: golden walls turned to ash.


[System]
Chris Falcon
Alias: "The Street Samurai of Brazil"
Age: 19
Nationality: Brazil
Gender: A boy, as girly as he looks like.
Appearance: A somewhat tanned skintone with blue eyes and a smooth, straight black hair that goes a bit down further his waist. His body is somewhat slender, but with the results of rigorous training and some scars that are the consequence of his fighting life. Far from being a body builder, but with some muscle developed - as far as his rather androgynous appearance goes. His clothing consists mostly of a tanktop, a pair of gloves, the common "baggy pants" used by Ninja and a pair of tabi. Hair is always kept in a ponytail, as both as a matter of preference and practicality.

History: Kurenai-Ryu dojo has a bit of history in both Japan and Brazil - formed by descendants of Hanzo Hattori and Kirigakure Saizo, they were nearly extinct by the time that Japan had the Meiji Restoration. However, practitioners who kept the tradition alive spread the ways of the dojo to every country they could. Cue the Japanese mass imigration of 1908 and a few Kurenai Ryu representatives spreading around from the moment they got off the Kasato-Maru.

More than a century later, A certain pretty boy who's been training on the style since childhood managed to make quite a name for himself. Little is known about his origins or his true identity, except he was adopted by the Kurenai Ryu masters and showed a natural talent for it. When he started witnessing a skyrocket in crime rates, at first, he used his knowledge to protect himself. Then, when a former student of the Dojo with a grudge came in, stormed the place and started a smearing campaign on the internet, Chris decided to take matters into his own hands. After taking care of the salty ex-student, he was approached by a livestreamer and offered an interesting proposal: Beating up thugs and nasty mutants known as the "Rakshasa" for the crowds on social media to have something to watch while he could easily clean up the name of his school.

And soon, Eva Roulette got her attention on the "Street Samurai of Brazil" and the large fanbase he earned.

Personality
Motivations: His main motivation are the vows to his dojo, and a bit of a personal enjoyment in being a vigilante himself.
Sexuality: He's straight to the point of beating men when they attempt to flirt with him.
Likes:
* Reading. His favorite authors are Sun Tzu and Ludwig Von Mises
* Cute animals, like Hamsters, Raccoons and Squirrels.
* Cookies and Coffee

Dislikes:
* Guys hitting on him
* Television
* Alcohol

General: Pretty chill guy, even though problems come to hit him hard. He's far from being the stoic, arrogant martial arts expert and a compassionate at times. He's not bloodthirsty, even though he loves the thrills of a good fight. He can easily get bored when he has to deal with mundane, slice of life situations where "nothing interesting happens at all".

Fighting Arts
Skills: He's an agile traceur, able to use online technology with ease and stealth to an extent.
Fighting Style: Kurenai-Ryu is a style of Ninjutsu that was created by the descendants of Hanzo Hattori and Saizo Kirigakure after Ieyasu unified Japan. With the ban of weaponry in the 16th century, only special agents of the Shogunate were able to practice the arts. It faced a decline in the Meiji restoration era, but it returned with full force when Ninja movies became a fad in 1980's.

Kurenai Ryu focuses in taijutsu, mostly in the use of kicks and leg-based grappling to pin down and strike opponents. The strikes focuse on hitting the pressure points that could immobilize enemies or bring them off-balance while grappling is a way to "beat a bunch of bastards using this bastard". Kurenai Ryu ninjas also use a lot of Chi, but instead of shooting, they channel it to enhance their durability and strength, making legs stronger than steel.

Weaknesses: Being a leg-based martial art, expect him to be in a big disadvantage if he can't kick. And Kurenai Ryu is focused in fighting against large numbers of foes at once, so he's not quite the best in ring battles.
Special Techniques:
* Oborozuki: A somersault kick that hurls the opponent upwards.
* Seiryuu no Mai: A stylish three hits combo that is executed in the air, tossing the opponent back in the last blow.
* Shirohebi: A grapple with the legs. Opponents hit by this will get themselves swirling and slammed to the ground.

Super Arts: Kirin Matsuri Kyaku: Chris darts around in a Pentagram-like movement, stunning enemies. Then he jumps up and kicks down, Kamen Rider style, which ends with a big burst of chi.
Exp: 0
Equipment: A few shuriken he carries with him, in case he needs to keep enemies at bay.

Other: While he has a background as an internet celebrity, it doesn't interfere much on personal interactions - I don't intend to make this character be a victim of the fame tampering with his views, but rather as a rather energetic young lad. Characters who are familiar with livestream are a bonus for interaction and, while I prefer having the concept simple, room for social development is always welcome. For a personal motif, go with Loud Faith, by T.Stebbins.

As a beat'em up Junkie myself, both the games that range from the old-school arcades and the more modern, fresh takes on the genre are equal in my book. My favorite old-school entry in the genre is TMNT Hyperstone Heist, and in the modern age, I'll stick with the Musou games. Even the Non Koei Tecmo ones like Fate Extella Link.

[User]
As Naja took on the defensive, she somewhat got aware of the others of her team going on the offensive. She noted Llexe launching herself in, and… so violent! It wouldn't normally be an issue, honestly Naja herself was equally violent, but Naja had just thrown her target out the building specifically to avoid hurting the any part of the shop, the floor included! … She has claws on those gauntlets, huh. It did look like Llexe took a pretty bad hit, but she seemed utterly unaffected so perhaps she didn't even need to dodge that.

Light was playing with some of them and Christopher was engaging a few outside. Meanwhile, Kiyoshi was moving to take apart some opponents with his sword… though not literally, she was observing. Somewhere out there Sam acted as a literal wall that their opponents just couldn't escape against.

With those monsters outside, Llexe in here threatening to kill them and Kiyoshi swinging a sword with movements like a blur, it somehow came to be that the few remaining, panicked gang-members saw the muscular cyborg as their best chance. Honestly, she wasn't sure if they were wrong. If they somehow took her down, they'd have hostages. Which, of course, was the very reason Naja placed herself here.

Two of them were running in to punch her. Their simple plan was that coming from two directions made them more likely to win. It made sense, but their style… it was untrained. This was just sad.

Rule number one of taking on multiple opponents… take them on one by one. Before they reached her, she sprung forth to meet the one on her right, fists raised to punch. He raised his fists to guard his face… so Naja punched him once in the gut with her right hand, doubling the guy before her second fist struck him him in the face, knocking him out, and the hand in his gut held onto his clothing so he didn't fly into the wall.

The second guy pursued her to strike her from the side. Naja spun towards him, still holding attacker #1 in her right hand as her right metal foot flew up to almost strike her opponent's head. He blocked it with his left arm, but his whole guard cracked after blocking Naja's high-power metal leg. He shouted, and was about to career into the wall of the store's goods… when Naja jumped from left to right leg bringing up her left leg in a swift kick into the man's side from the other side, nullifying his movement and knocking him out. Her left hand quickly flew forth to grab him by his clothing before he fell into anything.

'You're safe for now, we got you,' Naja told the couple as she gently put the two Tunnel Snakes on the floor, no harm done to the store on her expense. Nobody took her on after that.

+2 KOs. Total: 13 KOs, 3 injured, 1 winded and 1 fighting Light. 2 unaccounted for, but they're probably pretty scared by now.

[Assistant]
When her allies came to deal with these thugs in force, Light noticed there wouldn't be that many playmates left. Sam was an unstoppable wall, while everyone else was either beating up people inside the store, or were with Light dealing with the people outside. Giving out a sad "Awww" as she noticed this, she caught the fist of the one person she was fighting with. Using her other hand to pin his other arm to his side and stopping him from moving, she began to play with him by doing a mock dance with him. Sure the thug tried struggling at first, but when Light could effortlessly drag his feet across the ground, he eventually just gave up struggling knowing he was just completely overpowered. Of course this didn't stop him from saying obscenities, but that ended fairly shortly when Light began to sing a slow dancing 60s song in eldritch.

The thug she had gut punched earlier recovered from being winded to the scene of his buddy being played with like a doll from a cloaked figure that was just speaking tongues. Seeing this, he tried to swing at Light, who swung his ally to block the attack, following up with using his allies own fist to smack him. This continued with a playful side kick from Light, followed by a smack by his buddy, and eventually the weirdness of the situation really got to both thugs. But just as the free thug was thinking of running away, Light grabbed him and put both thugs in a big hug, swinging them around like dolls and squeezing them until they passed out.

Throwing her unconscious playthings on top of the third thug she had knocked out earlier, she moved to help the others. If this meant dealing with anyone who was going to run away, or anyone who called for help, time would tell.

+2 KO, total 15 KO, 3 injured, 2 unaccounted for.


[System]
Nickname(Optional): Pfft, no.
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Physical Appearance: Of Average build with short dark hair, Neil isn't exactly the most unique specimen. He is fit but not noticeably so. He isn't big at all, but he is also not small. He has a face girls can find cute, but not exactly dreamy. Tanned skin and a ruddy complexion from all of the machine's he's worked on, coupled with the calluses on his hands gives him an experienced look despite the very youthful appearance he has. All in all, other than the twinkling of his eyes and the trademark grin, he is essentially average. He has dark eyes and very dark brown hair, enough to be considered black under most light. He's about 5'10 and 165 pounds.
Clothing: He often wears baggy pants, mostly military cargo. He likes to wear single colored T-Shirts. Usually he wears red.
Personality: Oh, now that is a question. To say Neil is eccentric is...well, that hits the nail on the head. Very good with hand-eye coordination, competent combatant, good engineer, and a daring pilot. But prone to sarcasm, snide remarks, unorthodox behavior, and just good old fashioned explosions. He's a born jokester, though behind his charming yet insufferable demeanor belies a certain intelligence, and to those he enjoys, he does tend to have a big heart.

[User]
Neil's hand gripped the branch above him to steady himself in his seat, and he needed the added measure at the moment because he was very confused at the turn of events. He hadn't expected Sayeeda to exit the safety of the ship, particularly without armor on and...she was speaking to them. "That's new," he breathed, carrying the 'a' sound in 'that' for a bit to emphasize just how perplexed he was.

He wasn't exactly sheltered, but he wasn't nearly as well traveled as Junebug, so at the moment he was entirely sure that she either had been here before, or had learned their native language in case of a merc campaign. Did Sayeeda know where this planet was located? Did she keep any secrets relevant to their safety? If they lived through this, he would wait until they were alone and she was properly dressed or he'd be a bit too distracted.

A wiry but tall and strong looking man, strode to the front of this staggered formation of barbarians. His black hair was long and his eyes were bronzed from the sun's light. A short spear was in his left hand, held as easily as one would expect from someone who's livelihood depended on how well he could wield the weapon. The spearhead was not rock or iron, but a tooth or claw of some massive animal.

His next words were quick and without suitable pause for Sayeeda to understand them. She would catch the phrases of 'food' and 'water,' perhaps the word 'people' and what sounded like 'legend.' There was a small amount of reverence in his voice, but also a bit of fear and anger, as if he both did and did not quite know what to make of the ship. Gesturing to the ship, he bared his teeth and struck his dirt covered, chiseled chest with his fist.

Neil had managed to shimmy his way across to another tree without drawing any attention. He might not be used to the forest, but he was lithe and dexterous. If worse came to worse he'd need to do something to help his Captain.

[Assistant]
At first Junebug thought it might all go badly. The locals seemed agitated even though they hand't initiated the encounter with violence. The langauge was a struggle, it was a distant ancestor of the versions of the languges she half remembered from sleep learning during transits to various deployments. He seemed to want to know if they were with the Steelmen or maybe if they were men from the steel beast. Junebug eventually decided this must be some sort of group or faction she didn't know of and shook her head.

"We are ...merchants," she said unable to bring the word to explorers or castaways to mind. The man shook his head in confusion.

"We need your help," she tried vainly.

"Our ...chariot.. has been damaged we need to heal it," she stumbled unfamiliar words tripping her at every turn. At the word heal the chief and the assembled villagers seemed to perk up markedly. He gestured at her with his spear.

"You healing spirit. You come village. Eat we talk," he said, making exaggerated gesture. Junebug nodded and smiled broadly before turning to where Neil was cautiously advancing to the wary regard of their new hosts.

"Either they want to eat us or we are being invited to their village to eat," she said shrugging helplessly. Taya had still yet to appear from the Highlander, but it didn't seem that the presence of an armed amateur could contribute usefully in an case.

"Taya," she said queing the link to to the Highlander with a crook of her little finger.

"Get my first aid bag and stash some weapons in something inconspicuous

and get up here on the double."

[User]
"Tremendous." Neil replied in an extravagant and ostentatious accent. He almost felt like he was in one of the holodisks he sometimes viewed back before he joined the crew when he actually had free time. Ancient humans of the 'Victorian' kingdom dealing with savages at the edge of the known world. Well, at least when he appeared before the tribesman, they only gawked at him a bit before he was sure they were not going to stick him like a pig.

Once Taya stumbled out of the ship with a bag, a few of the tribesmen turned around, spears leveled. She squeaked and nearly dropped the sack. Neil was nimble enough to catch the drooping bag and help her yank it level again. "Nothing to see here. No firewater here." He said, hand in the air to halt anyone coming closer.

"Thank you," she whispered, nervously glancing about. "Do things like this always happen with you two?"

Neil placed his hands in his pockets, giving the fierce spears and wild eyed stares from the locals a cursory look. "...I'm noticing a pattern."

With a wave of the lead one's spear, the small band of hunter gathers and the three Highlander crew members made their way deeper into the temporal forest, soon looking a bit more like a subtropical or even tropical jungle as they moved. Mostly the tribespeople seemed to look outwards, as if expecting some sort of attack. Neil was hoping that they just felt awkward looking at the crew and decided to look elsewhere. Not that he wasn't against excitement, but he had just gotten out of a lot of hairy situations. Oddly enough, the alien mark on his palm from his and Junebug's first mission was itching a bit.

Within the hour, the treeline thinned, and though the area before them was still forested with copses of trees and brush, there were islands of stone and wood that rose out of the ground between them. Primitive ziggurats with oddly alien pictographs chiseled at their sides dominated the low river valley they now found themselves entering. A stout stream flowed across a Grand plaza, filled with trees with surprisingly spaced out and neatly swiped dirt travel paths. On second inspection, the stone and wood ziggurats did not go high in the air. Maybe three stories, and soon they found smaller huts. But it was impressive nonetheless. They sometimes crossed under small roadways of vine bridges above them, and disturbingly, there were times when corpses hung by their impaled wrists and naval cavities swayed lightly below some trees, being picked at by the local birds.

It was past the Plaza and over the river on one of the vine bridges when they made it to what looked like a meeting hut. It was circular and made of wood, and upfront there was a guardsmen who seemed to give a disapproving look to the leading tribesmember, before fingers were pointed at Junebug and the others. Immediately they were allowed inside, where they found a few slaughtered beasts strung up, some still bleeding. There was a firepit in the center.

It took Neil just until this moment to think of it. Yes, the settlement of city they had just walked through was not impressive by his standards, but it was impressive for these people. Yet, it looked nearly deserted. He had seen only a few dozen other villagers since they had come here, other than the close to two dozen who led them. He wasn't good with demographics, but he expected there to be thousand or two people here, not a few hundred.

What happened here?

[Assistant]
The smell of blood, sharper and more coppery than one found in Terran species was heavy in the air. The locals stepped out and pulled the door shut behind them. Sayeeda opened the door but found two unfriendly looking tibesman standing with spears leveled, the gestured decisively.

"I'm getting the impression they want us to stay in the hut," Junebug commented dryly. Behind her Taya let out a low moan. Turning she found the girl hugging herself tightly and eyes brimming with unshed tears. There was an uncomfortable moment as Junebug tried to figure out what she should say.

"They are going to kill us aren't they!" The girl blurted before the former mercenary could summon up the correct formula open the conversation. Junebug laughed a short mirthful laugh, the sound as unexpected to the young woman as breaking into a hymn might have been. Her face immediately began to color with anger but Junebug held up a hand.

"Sorry Taya, I'm not laughing at you. It is just I have been in the game so long that it never occurs to me to assume that people ARENT trying to kill me." The girl managed a wry smile at that.

"It really dosen't make that much sense for them to bring us all this way to kill us," she went on in an attempt to comfort the girl. They locals might want them as slaves or sacrifices of course, but there was no point in bringing that up.

Sayeeda felt fairly ridiculous in her sports bra with an air suit wrapped around her waist like a diver taking a few minutes break but there was no help for it. She reached into the medical bag and drew out the sub maghine gun and the one reload of ammunition the girl had brought. She worked the action and caught the ejecting round she kept in the chamber and slipped it into the base of the clip with a quiet click.

"Beside if push comes to shove I guess I've done worse thing than blowing away a bunch of indiges with bones through their noses." She tucked the weapon beneath the fabric of the airsuit and drew out a pistol which she tossed to Neil. Taya hadn't bought a weapon, which was alien to Sayeeda's sensibilities but was probably the right choice given the girls lack of training. A wizard at the data terminal she might be but a gunman she was not.

"They were speaking Zil, or at least an old version of it, you see it sometimes on old colonies that haven't had much contact, I can make out maybe one word in ..."

The door banged open interupting the conversation and an old twisted man stepped through the door flanked by the two spear armed body guards. No, now that she got a closer look he wasnt that old. His body was covered with scar tissue and he had been twisted by massive injuries. His right eye was completely gone replaced by an ugly fleshy patch.

"Are you with the Starmen?!" he demanded in heavily accented but perfectly understandable common.


[System]
Species: Human

Age: 28

Appearance:

Faction: None

Equipment: Blue crystal lightsaber. Utility belt which includes underwater rebreather, grappling hook and pouches. Communicator. CloakShape fighter.

Skills:
* Lightsaber Combat- Form V- Tez is skilled in lightsaber combat. However, he personally favours Shien style. Shien (Form V) specialises in reflecting blaster bolts back at assailants, which is useful in Hutt Space filled with blaster slinging criminals.
* Force wielder- Trained in the ways of the force by his deceased master, Tez can use the force with precision rather than luck, able to use the Force Push, Pull, Jump and Mind Tricks among other techniques.
* Intimidation- While not every battle has to be fought, Tez has learnt ways of dispelling a group of troublemakers with a little bit of physical force, no blood being shed. His imposing figure also helps in this regard, being tall and broad.
* Flying- Tez discovered a starship that seemed to be abandoned for many generations. It was a wonder the thing still flew. However, Tez can pilot the ship and it's armaments quite well.

Weaknesses:
* Seriousness- Even during down time, it's rare to see Tez relaxed. He's mind constantly racing on the next thing to do, the next gang to take down, the next person to save. It's hard for him to take a joke so he is often reserved and silent amongst more laid back individuals. This makes him quite hard to be around.
* Incomplete training- Despite his skill of a Jedi being equivalent to that of a Knight, he is nowhere near the level of a Jedi master, and he may never attain that level due to the abrupt ending of teachings. Perhaps he may be able to ascend to the next level, but that remains to be seen.
* Target- While some may not be familiar or may well have forgotten the tales of a Jedi, he's not seen wearing different attire and proudly displays his lightsaber. Despite this being a symbol and at the same time a warning, this doesn't deter particularly fiery combatants or imperials alike.

History:
Tez was born in the Outer Rim, being parented by his lonesome mother as his father fled from the picture before he was born. Living conditions were poor and the surrounding area was almost lawless, only the good will of people being the only thing from keeping the village from devolving into warring tyrants. His childhood was hard, even though his toiling beside his mother in the field was voluntary, it was truly a difficult day-to-day upbringing. Tez received no proper education, however the village elder did her best to teach the younglings knowledge however no one was forced to sit and listen. Tez did have brief periods of enjoyment playing with his friends around the outskirts of the village. However, it was clear that Tez had... abilities.

Not knowing it at the time, Tez was discovering that he was indeed force-sensitive. He kept this secret from his mother and friends, believing that was something that they wouldn't know much about. However, revelations such as these cannot be hidden from those attuned to the force. It was lucky that it was not one aligned to the dark side of the force that discovered Tez. A wizened elder human approached the boy in the cave Tez experimented with his abilities. This man would become his master, seeing the potential of the young one, fortunately at the perfect age. The man had to prove he was not only no threat to the boy, but also one who understands. The man introduced himself and showed that he too possessed the abilities that Tez discovered. The man then told the young one his story. A story of the Knights of the Galaxy and the etheral entity known as the Force.

Tez wanted to discover more and was more than eager to learn under his Jedi Master. The old man had a hard negotiation with the boy's mother. In fact, they literally argued for over two days straight. However, eventually Tez's mother gave in, and allowed her only son to follow the path of a Jedi. Bidding farewell for the last time. His new master transported the pair to a nearby planet, devoid of civilisation, only bearing home to themselves and the law of the jungle. Over the next couple of decades, Tez was trained in the light side of the force, following the path of a Jedi fledgling.

Tez showed great aptitude to the moral teachings, the force lessons and combat. He passed all the required tests to becoming a Padawan, spending a few years with a Padawan braid as part of his hairstyle. It was also during this period that Tez discovered an abandoned starship. It was old, rusty and dated back to a time his Master remembered. Outside of lessons, Tez set to work trying to fix the old bucket, using what little books his master possessed on the engineering of such ships. Soon enough, the CloakShape was up and running. As his master already owned a ship, this was to become Tez's personal ship. This was furthermore dubbed the "Rim Skimmer".

After fixing the Rim Skimmer and constructing his lightsaber, he journeyed with his master across the Outer Rim. While his master said that the Order of Knights no longer existed together anymore, he could still provide a duty to the people of the Galaxy until a time of Union were upon the Jedi again. His master worked as a vigilante against the gangs of the Outer Rim, and this was also how Tez wanted to utilise his training. He wanted to visit his mother so badly, but his master solemnly warned against it. Confused and angry, Tez disobeyed his master and raced to his home planet. However, the village was razed and burnt. Charred, unrecognisable corpses littered the ground as the graffiti of a gang plastered the now desolate home. His master finally caught up to him, explaining why he withheld this information. Tez spat back in anger, until imperial ships descended into the atmosphere.

His master thumbed the activation button of his lightsaber, and Tez raised his hand to join alongside his master. However, his arm was lowered back as his master turned with a smile on his face, telling Tez that this was not his fight. With nothing else left, he followed the order to run and flee, heading back to the Rim Skimmer and beginning to take off. As he looked back, Tez watched as two shimmering red blades clashed with a single green one. However, the last image of his master was being viciously tortured and contorted using the darker powers of the force. With master and home slain, Tez vowed to right these wrongs, taking up the mantle his master left behind, and is currently hiding throughout the outer rim, waging his own righteous crusade against all the gangs and wrongdoers in the lawless sector. Although, he knows the difference between a violent gangster and some stumbling drunk Dug causing a ruckus in a Cantina because he lost a bad hand which he swears is rigged. Tez isn't deluded in this sense. His judgement is fair and just.

[User]
Elias Joranis Ordo|Another Job gone Wrong

Elias grinned at the pair, allowing the lizard's started threat to go ignored since it seemed from the argument he'd caught the tail end of had put her in a bit of a bad mood. Motioning the bartender droid over, he ordered a class of Corellian Brandy for the three of them and made it three for the Togruta's lizard companion. "So what brings the two of you to Paradise? Most people here are either hiding or job hunting." He takes a sip of his brandy and enjoys the taste, unaware that his problems had followed him to the safe haven.

Meanwhile, the response from Koren did not do anything more to Elarn Taurus than anger him further, as it would seem all of Hutt Space was full of disrespect for the Imperial power. "I will do no such thing, scum! Forward Batteries, open fire!" A small tirade of green burst forth from the front of the Victory Class Star Destroyer. Elarn was fully unaware that the ship he had set his sights on was fully functional and more than capable of handling his flagship, but by this point he was so enraged, that he hardly thought about it.

[Assistant]
Paradise
Nightclub

While Sirka was still reluctant to answer, Delni was perfectly willing to be social with the charismatic Mandalorian. Sirka was not much closer to warming up to him, but the steady flow of free drinks was, admittedly, helping.

"Business, this time. My brave sister here is finishing up a job for a client. But as for myself, I am simply hoping to meet people." Delni explained, leaving it intentionally ambiguous on whether she was seeking to meet others for business or pleasure. "It's just so rare to find a place in this part of the galaxy where you can really just relax without having to worry about keeping a blaster at the ready."

Sirka gave an amused huff and nudged Delni's side with her tail. "Easy for you to say that when you've got 350 kilos of muscle sitting beside you." She finally joined in on the conversation, even if it was also a subtle warning to the Mandalorian, should he try something of which Delni did not approve.

"You know I'm always grateful for you, sis." Delni replied before looking back at Elias. "Ah, but where are my manners? I haven't even introduced myself. My name is Delni, and this is my sister, Sirka."