[System]
Age: 22

Gender: Male

Personality: Blayze seems to be a child trapped in an old person's body at times. He loves to mess around and pull jokes on people. He will be your best friend and will be as loyal to you as he can. He can sometimes be very quiet when you first meet him, but he opens up pretty quickly. He can be serious and whenever he is, he gets whatever things are commanded of him done. He does not disobey a direct order from the Queen and will never ever betray her. He has this quirk to where he cannot actually directly disobey an order from a person in charge of him. He feels a moral obligation to carry out every command that he could from that person, no matter if it is the captain or the Queen or the Princess. He would do anything that they told him to do.

Role/Title: He is a noble knight to the true Queen of Waylox. He is much untrained at close, hand to hand or sword, fighting, but he is an amazing archer and can make almost impossible shots for a normal archer. He can even shoot riding backwards on a horse. He began to get better at sword fighting after his father died

History: Blayze grew up inside Waylox during the Royal Family's reign. Every time they had a public appearance, he and his family were there. His father was a knight before him and this is what inspired Blayze to become a knight himself. His father was a knight who protected the former Queen and King (This Queen's Parents) and he began to teach Blayze sword fighting when he was about six years old. Blayze's mother was a seamstress working in the lower levels of the castle. She caught a deadly sickness from one of the pieces that she had been working on for the young Queen when he was ten years old and died on his eleventh birthday.

After his mother's death, his father threw himself headlong into protecting the newborn Princesses of the Queen and King and began to ignore Blayze more often. He would come home tired and fall immediately to sleep, not saying one thing to Blayze. He would ignore Blayze for most of the day and when Blayze asked him, he would say painfully, "You look too much like your mother for me to look at you." This hurt Blayze very much and he began to train harder than ever so his father would not see his mother and rather see him as a man himself.

Once the former King and Queen died, his father protected the new Queen until his last breath. His father died inside their house and was completely alone. Blayze had been out training with a few of the other younger knights when his father came home and practically collapsed on the ground. Blayze's father died of natural causes when Blayze was only seventeen. Blayze then took up his father's place in the Queen's army and began to protect the new Queen himself. He worked hard every day, even training in his periods of free time throughout the day. He wanted to make his father as proud as he could. He knew his father would watch over himself as he began to work beside the Queen. He began to refine his sword fighting skills as well as his archery skills. He began to get better and better every day.

When the Queen needed protection from the tyrant known as Ovorion, Blayze was one of the first to step up. He knew that this was the moment that he had been waiting for his whole life: the way that he could make his father proud. He would protect the Queen until his last breath, like his father had done before he had died. They escorted her away into the night and Blayze was mostly the one helping to train the Queen and Princess in combat before they could come back to the castle and claim it back for the right of her Majesty herself. He taught them everything he could, ranging from archery to hand-to-hand combat, sword fighting to knife throwing, anything that had to do with combat he taught them. He would stay up late at night keeping watch outside and almost never sleep. He even forgot to eat meals sometimes. He was dedicated to the two royalty.

Anything extra: Blayze has a slight, very small crush on the Queen, but he ignores it because he knows that it will put both himself and the Queen and Princess in danger.

[User]
Alniyat slid her parchment back into her bag as the group brushed her meager request of audience as honestly they clearly had much pressing matters to discuss. Even the Princess runt was caught up in this, and in Alnyiyat's opinion the girl was about as attentive a squirrel in an acorn tree.

She had no problem finding an open chair nearby and ordering a flagon of mead and a bowl of nuts. While most barkeeps would question her rather youthful appearance her rather adult blade acted as enough proof, as her drink was brought she reclined and watched the events transpire with a rather curious eye. Her heroes seemed rather more human than tales suggested, particularly Rand who was in fact bleeding! The Knight captain was a bit more energetic and expressive, but he did seem like an old lion after all!

The loud mouth seemed to enjoy stirring the pot to fill the void in his interest. He played some sort of game of chance, and did something that made it less a game of chance and more blatantly stealing. Soon enough they where going to step outside, Alniyat had wished they wouldn't it would be wayyyy more fun in here if they had thrown down on the spot. Rather suddenly her own attention was stolen by the sound of a thud. While its not exactly right to stand for someone who might not need it the behavior of the man was not acceptable, Alniyat slammed the rest of her drink, as if trying to drown her growing rage. Soon enough though the problem seems to solve itself....Alniyat pops a nut in her mouth before letting out a "Huh...That was odd."

[Assistant]
Blayze does not look down as the Commander glares at him and Rand. He does not care. He did what he was ordered to do and he cannot turn down an order. He watches the thief as he hustles some of the people there at the tavern and smirks slightly. He still stands close next to the Queen and has his bow drawn, an arrow notched in it down by his side. He most definitely looks like a Ranger at this point, but he does not care. He looks to the Commander, raising an eyebrow.

The female knight that has joined the group looks interesting. She looks like she is brand new to this almost. She holds herself like a rookie in the knight field and Blayze smirks. If she wanted in with these people, she was going to have to look more professional. He does not know how well she is at fighting, but he can already tell that she is not up to the caliber as him and Rand are. Speaking of which... He turns his eyes over to his fellow knight and sees the healer helping him out. Blayze has traveled many places, but he has not seen a healer of this skill before. But something about that woman looks very familiar.

He turns his eyes back to the thief, Thom, as he notices the hustled players get furious and begin shouting. The thief gives a smile and says something along the lines of taking it outside. Blayze looks to the Commander, curiously wondering if he should jump in and break it up. The thief would be of no use to them in jail, but because of his bad attitude, Blayze really wanted to see how this fight went down. He kneels down next to the Queen once more and asks, "Milady, should we break up the fight? I do not think that this will end well for anyone."

[User]
(This is a collab post with me and Twisted)

As Blayze leaned in to whisper to the Queen, the commander grabbed the back of his shirt, yanking him back, "No, you have no right to speak to her. No offense, milady, but if she made it an order to go looking for allies, and an order for neither of you to stay, then that was stupid, but you're not simply soldiers," He said, looking to Rand as he said this, "You're knights.You are above simple orders and just doing as you're told. You have the brains in your skulls to make decisions, logical decisions, and one of you should have made the decision to stay," he looked back to Blayze, "And when you're ready to admit you're wrong, that's when I'll give you permission to breath the same air as her," he said before pushing him away from Rhysln.
Rhysln bit her lip when Bayweil pulled Blayze back, having seen that coming, but she was not about to step on his toes. He was the commander for a reason. He knew battle and strategy, something she was still honestly figuring out. She cleared her throat before looking towards Ilsibin, "I don't think we can honestly predict the battles, I'm sure the closer we get the more desperate the attacks will be, but I've seen enough of the generals to know, considering he pulled them from the people directly. They were lords on the fringes of Waylox that felt that I was too soft and that I should have let the Yeojin handle their problems on their own and I should never have intervened period. My actions there is what drove them to join him."
The tattered cloak of a large figure enters the establishment with a rather awkward silence about him. The cowl looks about before looking on the rather rambunctious group. The movements of the figure would have given the impression that it was a ghost, but it was just a ridiculous amount of grace...

"How? I have been absent for something close to two star cycles and yet you let the kingdom fall into such dissaray. A fools errand I know, but still. You managed to let the entire kingdom fall. And now rather than try to attract little attention as possible, I find you mid a open quarrel in a tavern with more than three sets of prying eyes....On top of that you are bickering over childish nonsense."

At the ends of his words the cowl slid down showing a very dishevled Glenndaugion. A rather tired smile on his face but his eyes pertray his irritation towards the Knight commander.

"Rather than throttle the young Blayze, perhaps you could fill me in on the situation."
"It seems while I was out gathering information and trying to find allies worth our time when we get out of this village, both of these two," Bayweil thumbed to the knights, "Left as well, on the same errand, bringing back all of these misfits, though, it seems the Empress sent some of her own people as well," he motioned to the few that just didn't seem to fit, "The fact she knew where to send them troubles me… But this means we need to get going very soon- why are you in such bad shape?" he raised a brow, concerned what kind of things that meant.

Rhysln and Nautica both seemed very relieved to see Glenndaugion, to know he was alright, but neither of them said anything since he had made a good point about the fact they were kind of beacons when they should have been a little better hidden.
Glenndaugion seemed a tad shocked, he wiped his face a noticed the long since dried blood. "Oh my, I have been quite out of sorts. The fact that I was able to find a specific location I took a more risky route to get here." He began to free his rather long hair from his robes, its length rivialed the queens, it had been some time since he had taken the time to maintain it though. "I mistakenly distrubed a pair of rock wraiths in the deep wood. As you know, I am not skilled in the sating of the spirits so I was forced to excersie them with force." Glenndaugion turned to the Queen and her sister and looked at them with a rather irritated smile. "My ladies, I know you are both in a trying time, but it is common practice to not leave the queen without a bishop when you send away your knight-"

He cut his sentence short as he jerked around, and a flash explodes from the cloak. A singular blade met the forehead of a individual who had just entered, Glenndaugion turned around with an apologetic look. "We must cut this lecture short I am afraid. I believe that is the first of many. Too many high value persons in one place."
The commander was about to ask what he thought he was doing, but when he spoke, he nodded, understanding what he meant, "Let's get moving then," He said and Rhysln and Nautica stood up, "Unfortunately with only the mountains and the deep woods around us, our exit routes are rather limited," he mused, trying to plan a few steps ahead. In the woods, they were undoubtedly going to be ambushed, but they could also run in to some inhuman threats.

"The two of us being unarmed makes us burdens and easy targets," Rhysln pointed out but the commander's hand on her head was her cue not to keep trying to insinuate she should get a weapon
"The day I trust you with a sword is the day I admit the commander can best me in dress." Glenndaugion wasted little time poking his head out the door checking the surroundings, he pulls back in wondering how well the scouts of the group are. "Those of you who are fleet of foot, would you please find us a route that won't immediately result in violence?"
To say a slight look of insult crossed Rhysln's face would be an understatement, but she quickly cleared her expression and stepped out of the way to allow anyone who wanted to take up the chance to prove themselves from the start out of the tavern. Mawblack found the experience much more frustrating by the second, having to reply on people he didn't know or trust yet to assure the safety of the two royals.

[Assistant]
Blayze gasps hard as the collar of his shirt digs into his neck. He chokes on his own saliva as he is thrown back. He coughs hard, leaning against the table. He does not glare at the Commander. Rather, he keeps looking at the ground. Why did he have to be so loyal and so stupid at the same time? The Queen never commanded him to leave her, but she did say to go find recruits. Why hadn't he been smart enough to remember that he should have stayed with the Queen? Or at least one of them should have. He rubs at his now marked throat, blinking the bright pain out of his eyes as he grabs his bow once again and notches another arrow in it.

There's a sudden movement behind him and Glenndaugion throws a knife, stabbing an incoming spy or assassin near the doorway. Blayze immediately readies himself as the bishop begins to explain that they have to leave. He looks to the window and sees who he recognizes as one of Ovorion's spies. He raises his bow, draws back his string, and shoots directly through the glass, causing it to shatter. If the bar was not in panic right now, it was certainly at this point. The glass falls upon the heads of the other patrons and people begin screaming and running for the door. Blayze turns to the bishop and his commander and says, "They are here faster than you think, my lords. We must get the princess and queen to safety. There is a passage through the woods near a cabin that I found out there. It is abandoned and so deep in the woods that no one would have found it. I stumbled upon it by chance on my recruiting journey. We could take up refuge there for the moment." He looks at the commander expectantly. "I know I have let you down, sir, just give me a chance to prove myself again. I will lead the way, that way if any enemies come our way, I will be the one to die first."

Or they willhe thinks to himself. Without waiting for an answer, he runs to the front of the tavern, shoving passed running and screaming people and stands guard outside the tavern doors, another arrow raised to his eyes. He is ready if any more spies or assassins are to come. He notices a few people still standing as people are running and screaming to get to their homes. People who stay have something to lose he thinks to himself again. He watches those men closely, making sure they don't move. He awaits the commander and the Royal line as he stands guard outside the door.


[System]
Username: Wayward
Age: 17
Gender: Female

Appearance: Residing at a sufficiently upward end of the female height spectrum, Zena measures at around five feet eight inches tall. At this height, she carries a weight of approximately one hundred thirty pounds.Her figure is more of lean one, with a certain thinness, legitimately lithe, but surprisingly toned for her age. She's a young woman whose body bears an exaggerated sense of height and length with a slight overreach in her arms and a more extreme one in her legs. Her figure is one of subtlety, still, with only so much as a modest curvature at the bust, and slightly more prominence around the hips.

Weapon: Tesla Arc - Originally designed by Zena's father, and ultimately completed by Zena, Tesla Arc encompasses a three-in-one tech weapon. It takes on the basic appearance of slightly fancified broadsword, the blade of which measures up to three feet, and the grip in at an additional eight inches. By the light glow surrounding the blade, it is evident that the blade relates and reacts to fluctuations in Zena's aura. It is through her electrostatic Semblance that the blade retains its form as a simple sword. Altering this property, the blade splits out into an electrically bound, razor sharp whip, offering the secondary function of the weapon. The hilt of the blade can be removed, revealing a slimmer handle beneath. Shifting back the handguard, unveils the barrel of a small pistol, which loads with small, dust-infused bullets, offering tertiary function as a ranger weapon.

Semblance: Charge - Zena's Semblance involves the generation and manipulation of forms of electric charge and currents stemming from her own being. The act of utilizing her Semblance turns her into a living, breathing conduit for the channeling and diverting of potentially immense electrical discharges, releasing the power in the form of streaking bolts originating from some point on her person. She is not, however, limited in the mere projection of lightning-like projectiles; she is able to utilize her abilities as a reinforcement of melee combat, turning her body and weaponry into powered up tasers. At a more taxing expense to her person, she is able to amplify the electrical currents that flow within her body, stimulating her muscles and vital organs. The act of using a stimulation technique leaves Zena fatigued and almost completely immobile for a short period, and is thus used only as a trump card.

Corruption: The meddling of Ozpin's experimentation has boosted Zena's electrical flux a bit beyond her normal state. With dust and Grimm essences infused with her, and the limits of her power having been pushed, she has become, effectively, "overloaded" on a psychological level. The increased stimuli, while allowing more advanced feats, has rendered the young girl exceedingly energized, tremendously tenacious, and ascendingly aggressive as a result. Zena has an overwhelmingly difficult task in managing the extremes of her emotions, and is thus, a bit of a loose cannon, especially in combat. Sensual sensations, while superb in her current state, are inefficiently processes by her brain at its current developmental stage. As such, Zena tends to lean towards excessive levels of anger and sadness, embodying morbid and violent behavior.

[User]
Itzel stares blankly over the room of people he is forced to work with, he ran his main hand over his messy brown hair sometimes his fingers got caught on split ends it hurt but he got them though it sooner or later but it didn't really matter, compared to what he went though in his experiment. His eyes still stings when he's in bright room, as well in complete darkness. His scars sting when he touch them. And now his mind will only react to extremes with every emotional reaction he has.  But it could be worse, some of his 'allies' went completely off the deep end and are barely human now. He was lucky, he still feels human if now a really reactive one.

The insufferable leader of his team walked though the locked door of where the groups were waiting. The man is named Phoenix Valentine, a man who bloodlust was equal to the fuck ups post-expairments. So this man is not to be trusted with life, but Itzel's life wasn't worth anything so Itzel simply stayed the reactive weapon of theirs until they were finished with him or he died. The latter was for the best for the world if they really are trying to make a better world.

After 'Nix' finished telling them his plan to kill the terrorist and get some important thing or person, but he wasn't paying any attention, all he needed to know was that he was here to 'fuck shit up'.

As their transport landed Itzel sighed and got ready for combat, a cold smile grew on his face with a soft red glow of his eyes showed his massive shift and personality, since now there's no need for doubt, just determination. Itzel glide his fingers over the metallic shaft of his weapon, the Shadow Digger, as he walked off the ship into moonlight where his eyes glowed brighter, perspective people could see that his shadow moves on its own.

As Faunas scrambled around for weapons and cover, Itzel's allies started cutting them down, Itzel watched as they do so, his Semblance was powerful but he shouldn't waste it on hapless targets, it like using an explosive on a child. But not as messy. As Itzel watched them attack, a few of the Faunas noticed him and decided to attack him hoping he wasn't prepared to defend himself. He was. A quick secession of gunfire ranged in the area, but a shadow wall raised from the ground to defend him as the bullets were fired at him, Itzel looked at the attacking faunas with his glowing eyes, to them he was a was a monster, they weren't far off. Suddenly his shadows lashed out at the shocked Fuanas, the shadowy tendrils stabbed and slashing away at them, making quick, messy work out of them.

As the group were 'surronded', they soon attack with such intensity that it would be written down in Faunas history. Itzel decided to play a more supportive role, but he was still getting kills. Itzel's shadows protected his allies blind spots while he used his enemies own blind spots and cut them down into ribbons as they were too busy with his more overt 'allies' to noticed that their shadows were rising up from the ground to kill them, but with so many things to focus on he is near defenseless with only the barest of shadows to fend off loose bullets, this was so keep he could keep his focus on the battle at large.

This is much more fun then any pratice dummy. The agonized screams of terrorist was music in Itzel's ears.

[Assistant]
Blue Team

It kinda pissed Nova off how Vincent was blatantly staring at her chest but didn't move to do anything since it would probably end in her slapping him or worst. This mission seemed pretty boring to her since her team couldn't go in guns blazing like red team though she guessed this job suited her more. Nova spent the time they had before being dropped off checking over Broken Mask and Jester, she sat with Mask in her lap and began shining it with a cloth that she had pulled out of her blazer jacket. When the ship got to their drop off zone Nova held the large Blade/sheath aloft before standing up and disembarking the ship into a scene that she would describe as calm compared to what was probably going on in red team's area even though Djura had been pinned down... key word being HAD since Adam came in and demolished the opposition in a minute.

She walked though the room and nodded to the two boys before having Mask eject Jester which she immediately grabbed with her semblance and walked up to a door. When she reached the door Nova gave a small huff before putting the palm of her hand against it, Nova felt a heartbeat directly against the the door so she began to line up Jester with the point at where the beat was the strongest. The movement was quick and silent as the sword went through the door, stabbed the Faunus on the other side, and pulled back out covered in blood, "Silent and precise, perfect" she thought to herself before pushing open the door and walking into a room with three other Faunus who were already aiming their guns at her. "Another perfect situation" Nova thought as she took a few steps into the room and closed the door behind herself.

"DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" yelled a feline Faunus who seemed to be wielding a shotgun while the others had a sword and an axe, Nova tilted her head for a second then nodded and did as she was but instead of letting Mask hit the ground she kicked it sending it flying towards the Faunus holding the gun. The large weapon spun towards the Faunus like a frisbee and lodged itself in the shotgun Faunus's stomach, he dropped like a stone at the weight of the weapon . Nova flexed her left hand and Jester flew into it before she ran at the Faunus with the axe where she sliced through his neck; Nova turned and looked at the sword wielding with a almost pitiful smile but then dropped it when she glanced over at Mask which in turn drew the Faunus's attention. Mask had extracted itself from the stomach of the first Faunus and had leveled itself with the.... Deer girl's neck; The girl froze and stared back at Nova with what Nova assumed was fear and she loved that look. There was a flash of light and then a spurt of red before she was left sitting in the middle of the floor with the door open and four dead bodies though she had began writing the alphabet on the wall with the blood using the tip of her blade as a pen obviously bored.


[System]
Chapter: Flesh Tearers

Chapter Demeanour: Among the most savage of the Sons of Sanguinius, the Flesh Tearers are infamous across the Imperium for the sheer brutality and destruction they bring to every battle. Known to completely lose themselves in the heat of battle, they have often brought ruin to friend and foe alike. Worse yet is the rate at which their Battle Brothers fall to the curse of the Black Rage, which has crippled their chapter and will likely bring its ruin before long.

Personal Demeanour: Despite his chapter's reputation, Sirren strikes most as a particularly cold and dispassionate individual. After attending to many dozens of his brothers that have fallen in battle or to the Flaw, he has grown callous and melancholic. While he attends his duties as earnestly as he ever has, they are performed with detached professionalism and grim routine. Seemingly the only effort he puts his heart and soul into is the destruction of the Emperor's enemies, upon which he unleashes all of the fury his chapter is known for.

Speciality: Apothecary

Rank: Sanguinary Priest

Power Armour History: Inherited from his mentor in the Flesh Tearers' sanguinary priesthood, Sirren's armor is adorned with Cretecian sigils and fetishes, as well as the ancient iconography of the sanguinary priesthood, which date back to the Age of Heresy. More artistically adorned than most armors among the spartan Flesh Tearers, the armor's machine spirit still carries their chapter's legacy of rage and tragedy, as many of its previous wearers have fallen to the Black Rage (Sirren's mentor included). With Sirren's induction into the Deathwatch, this is the first time that his armor has been painted black, and not been worn by a lost brother of the Death Company.

Description: A grim figure, even by the standards of most Astartes, Sirren wears the scars of many battles on his body and in his posture. Nearly the entire right side of his face is comprised of scar tissue, pulling his face into a permanent snarl, and almost all of his black hair has been burned away, including his beard and eyebrows. He bears very little resemblance to his angelic primarch, given his brutish features and forest-green eyes. A pair of skull-emblazoned service studs are embedded on his left brow, showing his centuries of service to the Emperor.

Despite the multitude of scars crossing his body like spiderwebs, Sirren is in good condition physically. Nominally larger and bulkier in size than the average Astartes, he has had no major bionics added to his body, and he is as spry as any initiate, regardless of his veteran status. Outside of his armor, Sirren wears only simple garments, typically red and white, and small effects of the sanguinary priesthood. Given his status as a medic, he abstains from wearing more gruesome trophies and fetishes off of the battlefield.

Skills: As with most Sons of Sanguinius, Sirren is an expert in rapid assault and close-quarters battle. His ferocity is in his blood as a Space Marine and as a native of Cretacia. Given his early life of savagery, he is adept in tracking and hunting great beasts that could slay even an armored Astartes, and is well adept to prolonged survival in remote conditions. As a member of the sanguinary priesthood, Sirren is an expert in the rituals of initiation and purification common to Blood Angels successors, and is well-practiced in the medical care and physiology of his fellow Astartes, particularly the peculiarities of his chapter's gene-seed.

History: As with all Flesh Tearers of this millennium, Sirren was born a native of the death world Cretacia; one of the many savage tribes that regressed to a paleolithic state during the Dark Age of Technology, barely even capable of language. Their daily existence comprised of surviving day-to-day against the violent seismic activity and monstrous creatures endemic of their world. Despite their stunted intellect and lack of technology, the Cretacians had adapted to become physically powerful, with razor-sharp reflexes, thus making them exceptional candidates to become Astartes. Sirren was one such young man chosen from his tribe, and tasked by the metal angels of red and black to slay a mighty predator as his initiation. His hunt lasted an entire lunar cycle, and most thought him dead, until he managed to return carrying the jawbone of one of these terrible beasts, soaked head to toe in its blood.

Inducted as an initiate into the Flesh Tearers, Sirren took as well to his indoctrination and biological enhancement as could be hoped. The only hiccup in his training came from his demeanor; he was competitive to a fault, and was remarkably quick to anger. Fistfights between himself and his fellow scouts were common, and resulted in frequent disciplinary action. By the time he had graduated to become an Assault Marine, his back had already turned to leather from his many floggings. The chapter's leadership, hoping to cool the temper of an otherwise promising marine, inducted him earlier than most into the sanguinary priesthood, putting him into his company's command squad as a Sanguinary Novitae.

Sirren learned humility fast, as he was forced to care for his wounded brothers and to collect the gene-seed of the fallen. He saw the error of his rambunctious past, now realizing that they had enough enemies in the galaxy without him disrupting the chapter from within. However, his premature induction had its drawbacks; as he was still a relatively young and inexperienced marine, he had not yet become totally accustomed to the horrors of war and what lurked in the reaches of the galaxy. Grappling with these tormenting forces, as confronting every single death and lost brother in his company, was a great strain on his mind, and having been pulled out of his assault squad early, he had insufficient outlet to work off his aggression and frustration. Over the decades, these traumas darkened Sirren's mind, making him unnaturally cold and unfeeling to cope with these stressors. This culminated some time after his full induction into the sanguinary priesthood as his mentor fell to the Black Rage in the midst of battle, and Sirren delivered the Emperor's Peace to him as he lost all reason.

Equipment and Armament: As a Sanguinary Priest, Serrin carries a specialized narthecium, augmented with a Acus Placidus reductor pistol, and an oversized Exsanguinator reductor blade. As he is currently not serving with any other Sons of Sanguinius, he chooses not to carry a sacred Blood Chalice, but does have one in his possession. As his typical armaments, Serrin carries a Deathwatch-issue bolt pistol, a standard assortment of grenades, and both his personal chainsword and combat blade.

[User]
Kurt was quite glad that somebody from his own Chapter was to be the one supervising him. The other Chapters of course did great service to Emperor and Imperium but they were so barbaric, so unorganised, and so arrogant despite it being quite clear that only one Chapter and it's successor's deserved the right to be arrogant; the Ultramarines. The least instigating word the Scout Sergeant could think of Chapters of another Primarch was "silly." The life of an Ultramarine was twice as much as one of the others, Kurt had to remember that.

He marched forth with his hands behind his back, staring at Brother Cylaris with praise. "I have done so many times, but I am still honoured to meet someone who has defended the Imperium's second capital, and the home of the warriors rivalled only by the Emperor's gilded honour Guard." he said, not particularly minding the fact that he was saying the Ultramarines were the best Marines. After all, arguing against that would be like arguing about the existence of one's boots -- Kurt quickly amended the thought remembering that he was not yet wearing boots. The Scout had the privilege of not being so thoroughly annoyed by the Priest of the Eclessiarchy and Servitors, for he merely had carapace armour. He sighed a little with grief as the ornately decorated carapace armour upon him was painted black. With it's dark shade, one would not even be able to make out the muscle shapes upon it, making dealing with nobles (especially ladies) quite a bit more difficult. Still, the Deathwatch was a test of one's mettle, he could not breeze through it like his usual duties.

The transhuman stared at his shoulder with his tongue sticking out as the greatest care was used to place the Deathwatch pauldron upon his shoulder. There. He gave a little sigh of relief, it was done. Presumably, they would soon go on to their duties that involved shooting and cutting. Still, there was time to kill. An eyebrow was raised in the direction of the neophyte grouped with von Inri, and Kurt asked the question. "Willing to give the secret of your Chapter away?" he asked with a smirk.

[Assistant]
Aldaric merely watched quietly as Captain Roa spoke. The servitors tracked up, and Aldaric recognized the bone white powerarmor of an Angels of Absolution brother, HIS powerarmor. He hardly identified it as his own from the outside, having never fully appreciated it from this angle. He noted its emptiness, a mere shell, as they all were. Was it symbolic?

The servitors themselves were sad cases, living machines, left without much mind of their own. They were failures, yet still they served. Aldaric briefly wondered at how much difference there was between one of them and an Astartes. At this point, there was not much else to do but to behold the moment, to take in and be one with the meaning in the ceremony.

Again, he did nothing but watch as the painting began. Black covered white, numbers erased, company colors, erased. Very much so it felt like the death of his former existence, and indeed it was, for from this day forward, he would willingly don his new black armor himself. He would encase himself in a new mission, a new identity, and become a merciless machine, an angel of death to the dragon enemies of the Emperor, the Tyranid, the Orcs, and other xenos. His sole focus would be this, and it no longer mattered where he was from, or even who his gene-father was. Nothing else mattered.

A fatalistic stoicism dominated his gaze like a dark cloud as Aldaric suited up. It seemingly would have overtaken his persona ever afterward, had it not been for the look given him by his approaching new mentor, Brother Rathanael. The Consecrator's gaze locked onto his own, holding it, shattering it as Aldaric momentarily froze, the last fastening of his right Deathwatch pauldron held still in his hand. Aldaric blinked his biologic eye, finding himself suddenly freed from blindly following the path of the inevitable as he looked at his blood-brother in that ancient armor. Without words, a bond instantly formed between them, and he had been saved.

Aldaric paused, strangely heartened. Inside he knew, he felt it. He could now go forward with appropriate mind. Like the Angels of Absolution from which he hailed, he had no need to look back. "Loyalty and honor, Brother Rathanael." He said, expecting no response in return, and then he finally secured his new pauldron as the last piece of his armor.


[System]
Age: 23

Race: Human (transcendent)

Appearance

Personality: Light-hearted and kind, brave and couragious. When Bidzil sets his mind to doing something there is normally no stopping him. He can't turn a blind eye to what he sees as wrong and ends up getting involved in problems that are sometimes better left alone. For the ones that he cares for, he will fight until his dying breathe. Loves a good joke or pun. He also like to explore and doesn't mind a good fight.

Bio:
 Bidzil is a young transcendent human that was found in Trantis. Bidzil only had one wing however, and this was the first time in history it has happened, the people of Trantis saw Bidzil as a bad luck charm. He was an orphan found left outside the guardhouse, no note or anything to tie him to any lineage. He was taught from old texts how to hide his wing, but being a transcendent, everyone still knew. Many other towns heard the news of a transcendent youth coming to Trantis and wanted to know more, but the town hid him in fear of the other towns reactions. When Bidzil got older, he would run around town and swim through the waters of trantis on his own, causing mischeif. He never hurt anyone, but could be seen as a bother sometimes. Bidzil got to know one of the guards, Millan, in town well enough to where he looked up to him like a father figure. Millan would tell him stories of grand adventures, especially one about a beautiful wish granting oracle, that he swore up and down was a true story. The man inspired Bidzil, even to the point of trying to become a guard himself as he got older. Although he was denied for not wanting to risk the death of a transcendent for whatever superstitious curse that may bring, the guard did teach him how to use various weapons. Bidzil took to the blade quite naturally, and became a competent sparring partner with the guards in town. Bidzil had started working odd jobs around town as well, trying to earn enough money for his own place. While successful, it amounted to a tiny hut on the shoreline, which Bidzil was more than happy with. On his birthday, The guard said the he had purchased a gift for Bidzil, but it got stalled in Salna. If he wanted, he could run and get it, and he should be able to make it back by the time his shift was over.

 Bidzil eagerly went to Salna, about an hour or two's walk. He couldn't fly of coarse to only having one wing, or else he would have tried that. He picked up a package, not knowing what was inside the thin, long crate, and headed for home. The sky hard started turning darker, quite rapidly for it to be normal. Bidzil wasn't sure, but there was a dreadful feeling in the air as he picked up his pace. He ran full throttle to return home, only to arrive to a vast crater in the earth, the dirt black as night. The great lake that He had swam in for his whole life was completely empty, and the shattered remains of Trantis littered the lake bottom. There was not a soul in sight, no blood, but clothes blowing by in the wind, left behind by their owners. Bidzil ran to check the guard station on the coast. he kicked open the door to find just piles of gear and weapons where men once stood. And in the chair Millan would normally sit and used to tell him stories, was his usual red guard's cloak, the sword fallen on the ground still in it's sheath.

 Bidzil could not take in what had happened, it made no sense, it was too much too fast. After mourning the loss of everything he ever knew, he took with him Millan's cloak and his sword. When he left the guard station he decided to open the gift Millan got for his birthday. In it, was another sword, similar to the guard's blade, yet customized to Bidzil's liking. Bidzil equipped both, creating a way to carry both sheathes for the blades, and headed back to Salna, to report the news. Salna, however, already had a messenger visit them it seemed. There was a crowd of people gathered around a wall wailing in anguish and fear. Ten dead guards laid in a pile, and on the wall, written in their blood, read this. "A new king rises. The Grandis Empire has returned"

 The people of Salna already knew of the fate of Trantis. The messenger that had come to them told them as much, and warned them coming coming of a new king, to prepare to submit or be crushed like Trantis was. This enraged the guards in the area who then attacked the stranger only to be slaughtered. Once the messenger finished his sick message, he left. Bidzil stayed in Salna for a few days as a refuge, earning some money from some work, but the happy air of the city was completely dead, having lost their sister city and a portion of theirguardl guard. Bidzil ended up recalling the tale Millan used to tell him about the wish granting Oracle, and tried to find any information on it that he could. The librarian in the town shook their head at the request, but he still led him to some books on it. From what Bidzil was able to gather from the vague texts, there was something called the 'Vanishing Kingdom' that the oracle resided in, and it could only be summoned by first gathering the treasures of all the great nations and placing them on an alter. The Vanishing Kingdom will then visit Hitala, and will be stay for a week before leaving. The Oracle can grant any wish or give any knowledge to the ones who seek it, but all requests come at a price. From Salna, Bidzil traveled to Kalla village, where he thought would be a good place to start as any.

Equipment: Millan's Guard Blade, Custom Trantis Blade

Abilities: Swordsmanship, Wing reveal/hide (though no flight), Transcendent energy attacks (when wing is revealed)

Extra notes:
 While well trained in swordsmanship and used to sparring with his towns guard, he has never had to actually take the life of someone before leaving for Kalla. Often when settling disputes, he strikes an opponent with the heavy sheathes like the Trantis guards are trained to do. The are able to do this by their weapons dual sheaths. One outer sheath that hold's the sword and sheath inside, and then the true sheath. The swords have a type of latch to keep them connected to their true sheaths, which are also made of a light metal material. The guards and Bidzil are trained to use the sheathed sword as effectively as a regular sword, thus once unsheathed, their skills with the blade become much faster. A blade with it's true sheath can still be lethal if used right.

[User]
Allanon nearly smiled at Chihiro's response to his, however, the Calabris were not worthy of such a reaction even in regards to speaking poorly of them. The only thing that would get him to smile over them would be for justice to be brought down on their evil actions and for their punishment to bring them to obscurity and beyond. The last thing she said caught him off guard. It was almost as if she knew Krogan. If that was the case, she definitely was not human.

After he spoke to Valia about escorting her someone she appeared to be familiar with approached and told her about her available room. It seemed his words were wasted. "I see you will be fine. You have an incredible community here, Madame Valia. Portea would learn much from Kalla." If Portea's community was half as supportive as Kalla would Allanon have the Sword of Damocles hanging over him today?

He smile a short farewell smile before turning and heading toward the volunteer squad. "I'll volunteer. Call me Allanon."

[Assistant]
Temple steps

 "Well, again, thank you. It saved my life," Valia aid with a little bow. "I should probably retire for the day, there has been more than enough excitement to last me quite some time I think. Allard finally settled down and set up his own proper tavern and inn, and that was his daughter just a moment ago, so if you want to come by later I am sure I am not the only one who will be happy to see you." She turned to Allenon after his comment on the village, "I thank you for all of your help today. If it wasn't for your quick acting, I may have never been able to recover from my injuries. The people of Kalla keep tight to an old saying, 'if a people can not stand together, then they will never stand at all'. On one's own, one can only be so powerful. It is this bond that all people in Kalla share that makes us stronger than any trail we face. If Portea is as divided as you make it out to be, one day it will surely lead to ruin." She bowed to him as well, though, as she did this, it seemed the small group of volunteers had arrived back at the square and started talking with the chief. "It would seem like they are nearly ready to depart, I shouldn't keep any of you any further. Please, do be careful out there. I hope to be able to thank and welcome you all properly upon your return." With that, she bid them farewell for now, and walked towards the inn. Even while she was still recovering from an injury, her gait was... hypnotic. Years of practice now routine even in something so simple.

Inn

 "Aye, the desert may be cold at night enough for ya ta travel, but I'd warn ya about travlin' in the day. Even seasoned hunters can perish in those sands should he not be prepared, and thats not even mentionin' tha creatures that one would come across. Yur eagerness ta help is a blessing in itself , lass, but I would not recommend ya go with them, may Krogan watch o'r tha ones that do." There was then a sound of the front doors opening as Valia stepped into the inn. "Valia, girl, are you alright?" Allard asked.

 "I am fine Allard, thank you. Some foreigner found me and was able to get me to the red saints fast enough. I shouldn't be too active for a while, but they said I should make a full recovery, and the scouting party is preparing to leave now," She smiled as Allard seemed to let go a sigh of relief. "Oh, and I see that we have even more foreign visitors today." She did a small bow towards Anrak and Maeve, "I'm sorry you had to arrive on such strenuous circumstances." She didn't tell Allard about Chihiro, she wantedit to be a surprise. He wasn't as close as she was to her, but he still knew her. He was just normally off on hunts or conflicts when he was still a warrior of Kalla.

Scout party

 Most the volunteers ranged in various ages, with different types of gear and weapons as well. It seemed Kalla had no standard military past the few guards that roamed around. One of the odd ones out was a human looking young man in a red Jacket and sandy blonde hair. He didn't seem to be a Varuk villager from Kalla. In fact, if one was well traveled enough, they could probably pinpoint him being a Trantian. He did seem to keep to himself a bit, though it didn't look like it was to be rude, simply, he didn't know anyone there.

 As for the other volunteers, they were a bit put off by the number of foreign people participating in their scouting mission. When Allenon approached and gave his name, the chief walked up to him, His eyes from at least half a foot above the man seemed to stare into Allenon's soul, like the man was assessing him before even saying a word. "I am chief Dorran, leader of this village. What brings you to volunteer, Allenon? I will not reject the aid, should it be just that. Though if I find deceit in your actions, I will bring you down. Are these others accompanying you as wel-" Dorran seemed to stop when he saw Chihiro. Not because he didn't mean his word, but because e was surprised to see her, as well as some of the other volunteers. "My, to what do we owe this pleasure of your return? It has been quite some time! I only wish that I had prepared a feast to welcome you back instead of a mission. Are you planning on volunteering as well? If these people are friends of yours, I'd be honored to let them accompany us as well." Apparently, Chihiro was quite a well known and liked figure in Kalla, for those that could remember her.


[System]
Nickname: Nat but only certain people get away with calling her that

Species: human/hunter

Age: 24/about to turn 25

Birthday: November 4th

Appearance:

She has long brunette hair that has a natural wave to it as well as always being side parted and hazel brown eyes. Almost always sports a smokey eye look with nude lipstick (or a tinted lip balm). She gets teased for it but she doesn't care. Her outfit includes her beloved biker jacket that is always at least a size too big for her, but it makes it all the more comfortable. She always wears racer back vests with black jeans and beaten up old combat boots that she refuses to replace. She'd rather get them get resolved than change them completely and go through the pain of breaking in new boots. She sometimes wears a couple of necklaces round her neck but not always, depends on the job and her mood and sports an anti possession tattoo on her left collarbone like her brothers do.

Sexuality- straight and single. Relationships get in the way in her mind.

Height- 5'7"

Right or left handed: left

Scars: a couple of large ones on her back, going diagonally across from her right shoulder blade down toward her left side of her natural waist.

Personality: sassy, snarky but loyal to those she let's in emotionally. Quirky at times and old school in her professional life.

Relation to characters (optional): half sister, John is her biological father.

Bio: The younger sister of the Winchester boys whom she only met much later in life. They collided on a hunt that the boys were doing at the asylum she was in, and from there learned they were all blood related via their father John.

Natalia was brought up by her adoptive parents Kara and Harry whom were scared of her by the time she was a teenager. They thought she was insane and put her in a hospital for the insane, as she would have visions in her nightmares of her birth father fighting all things that go bump in the night, making her want to sneak out at night to try and get answers on what they meant. Little did she know it was all a ploy by Hell and a demon named Azazel to get her committed so the wheels would begin turning for her meeting her real family, to play mind games with the winchester boys.

She was ready to escape one night when she was in her early twenties, when Azazel of all people went to break her out by letting her out of her room, setting in motion for her to collide with the brothers in her escape attempt, whilst all hell broke lose in the asylum with a wraith. Her relationship with the boys wasn't plain sailing at first. Dean didnt trust her at all. He was convinced for months that she was a fraud until Sam proved him wrong. She feels this is why she grew much closer to Sam as opposed to Dean, despite having much more in common with Dean. She loves old school rock and roll, she loves to sing and sketch in her downtime if they ever get it or when in the backseat of the impala.

Weapons: firearms of any kind, she's not fussy in the slightest, but likes the convience of handguns as they can be hidden well enough. If it ever calls for it, she enjoys bringing out her compound bow, but it's very rare she gets to use it for ranged attacks. She also likes her arsenal of knives for close melee attacks. She also has the habit of fiddling with her knives if she's restless or impatient over something, or just plain bored. Has left at least two indentations from her knives in every motel room table she's ever sat at.

[User]
Poe shifted his weight from one foot to the other, feeling weird about just letting Sam Winchester leave the parking lot with the girl he had with him. She fit the description.

"It's nice to meet you Benjamin."

Poe stopped at Benjamin mentioning his psychic powers and smiled brightly. He then gave a laugh from deep in his chest, "Oh that's great! A Winchester, a fugitive, a psychic, and let me guess, a gaggle of women surrounding Dean Winchester."

He shook his head as he chuckled and placed a hand on his Jeep, trying to make a decision on whether to follow the younger Winchester or to tackle the hotel room.

[Assistant]
MIKA AND NATALIA

Mika tried to believe Natalia that it was just Dean being nice to someone he used to know as a kid and was getting used to seeing them again after so long, but after she had gone four months without him, grieved him for all that time she couldn't help but get suspicious and have that twang of jealousy creep into her heart and mind. She knew deep down she didn't have to worry about Dean being unfaithful, they had quite literally gone through hell and highwater to find each other again and stick together. They grew up together, but becuase she lost him twice due to one reason or another, she was terrified when someone else came on the scene. She knew there were times when he slept around when she was technically out of his life, pretending to be someone else, and that jealousy all began there. She didn't blame him for it before because he thought she was Kenzi, the cousin of herself, but now there was no excuse in her mind.

Suddenly Dean and Esme both ended up in full view of herself and Natalia and Natalia instantly winced whilst thinking 'oh shit...' before looking at Mika, seeing her almost go red and green all at the same time. Hearing what they were saying together didn't even help either and Natalia knew that Mika's mind instantly was going to 'she's one of those girls he slept with'. "Meeko...don't...it's nothing, remember it's nothing. He came back to you, don't do anything ra----" she started to warn when Mika ignored her completely and lost her shit before she could even finish her sentence.

"you've got to be bloody kidding me!? Are you serious right now!? You lied about how you know her! She one of those bed notches you had!?" Mika practically screamed at the two of them, mostly at Dean before storming off, her hands visibly shaking, opening the hotel room door and slamming it behind her before leaning against the hallway wall and desperately trying to not burst into tears.

SAM WINCHESTER

Sam decided with his free hand to quickly send a text to Ruby to meet them at the diner opposite the hotel, figuring that if anyone was as good a palce to start asking questions, it was with Ruby, he did though still listen to everything that Annabeth was saying, as he grabbed her hand after their hands brushed together. "it's okay i get it. I didn't know what was happening to me for the longest time as well, Dean was scared of me for a while, we got into many a fight over it before he had my back every which turn. It's perfectly normal to have the feelings and thoughts you have and we'll get you your answers" he told her. "But what you can do is essentially you can exorcise the demons from their bodies and send them back to Hell" he told her as he headed to the diner across with the street with her.

[User]
Dean Winchester

Dean smiled down at Esme's hair, kissing the top of her head one more time before pulling away from her. He pulled his arm up in front of her face, and lowered his sleeve to show his wrist. The bracelet she had left with him, a simple string wire bracelet, still around his wrist.

"It made it to hell and back, apparently…", he laughed, just before Mika stormed into the area, causing him to instinctively jump and push Esme behind him. His free left hand resting against the small of her back behind him, while his right hand came up to try and fend off Mika's potential rage. Hell, he was tempted to try and put furniture between them.

"Jesus Christ Mika! It's been years…I…Mika…son of a bitch…", he stammered at Mika as she screamed. He froze a bit as she stormed off, not knowing whether he should follow her or not. Turning back to Esme, he searched her eyes for a bit of forgiveness.

"I'll be back…", he whispered, kissing her forehead for more forgiveness before running to the door as it slammed in his face, causing him to flinch. He flung the door open, stepping out into the hall with a huff, finding Mika there.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he stood in front of her, "You wanna tell me what the hell happened back there?"

Annabeth

Annabeth held his hand tightly as they walked across the street, watching him text someone. She was curious, but didn't ask questions, as she didn't know his contacts or how they could help. Her eyes went a bit wide when he mentioned the demons and what she could do to them.

"I can do what?", she asked, thinking back to Cason and the black smoke. She raised her free hand to stare at her palm in awe, now knowing what the heat was, and why. Sighing, she stepped up to the door of the diner and reached for the door handle.
Ruby
Ruby looked down at her phone, rolling her eyes as she sat in the near empty diner. It was closed, but a few people still lurked, none of them demons. Her interest was piqued as Sam and a mystery blonde approached the door.

Her eyes turning black at the sight of the girl, she groaned, "Dammit, Sam…"

[Assistant]
Esme Stirling

Esme couldn't help smiling when Dean kissed the top of her head again before he pulled away. As he did, she released him, letting her arms fall to her side. She watched as he lifted his arm and pulled his sleeve down to reveal the wire bracelet on his wrist. Her smile grew when she saw it. "Who would have thought….." she said with a laugh before Mika stormed in, cutting her off.

She jumped in surprise just as Dean pushed her behind him protectively and kept a hand on her back, which she wasn't expecting. It was a strange feeling having someone protect her from another. She couldn't see Mika from behind Dean, but she could hear the rage in her tone, which caused her to wince. Notches? She thought. Her eyes widened as she realized what she was getting at.

She thinks Dean and I…… she trailed off in her thought. She was about to speak out, but Dean had tried talking to Mika before she could. She winced again as he stammered as Mika screamed at him. She remembered earlier how Mika stuck close to Dean and seemed to calm him when no one else could. She had thought little of it at the time, but now she couldn't deny it.

There was definitely something between them and she had apparently stirred up some jealousy in Mika. She felt terrible now. She didn't want to come between anyone and mess anything up between them. That was the last thing she wanted. She took in a breath when Mika stormed off. She hadn't realized she had been holding her breath. When Dean turned to face her, her face and eyes held a soft look.

"It's alright. Go after her." she told him softly. Esme's eyes closed when he kissed her forehead, then opened as he ran for the door. She flinched just as he did when the door slammed in face. Once he was out the door, she walked over to a chair, wiping the tears from her cheeks as she went, before she sat down. She placed her elbows on her knees, then put her face in her hands and sighed heavily. She now wondered if she should stay or leave. Would her being there put too much stress on things?


[System]
Lady of Clan Yalla

Age: 20

Physical description:
* 5'6", 125#
* Physically fit, strong.
* Beautiful hour glass figure with modest, firm breasts and ever-pert nipples; as are the women of the Noble and Royal Classes, her body is free of hair below her neck, carefully and frequently shaved from her by a trusted slave girl.
* Stunning, green-hazel eyes.
* Brunette hair, nearly always worn as in the image (except private and/or intimate moments).
*
* Tattoos:

	+ Face: the pattern designates the Tribe from which she came.
	+ Body: a Snake-Dragon tattoo, the Holy Symbol of the Faithful of Tella-Un; it begins as a thrice-forked tail just above her right ankle, encircled that leg twice as it climbed upwards, then cut across her belly to wrap around her torso and finally cease as a magnificently detailed and somewhat frightening, fang-bearing head just below her sternum.
* Various scars (to be described later).

Personality:
* Strong, confident, driven.
* Intelligent and well educated.
* Sexually? Not yet stated.
* Compassionate but also willing to kill, punish, enslave, etc., when she finds it necessary.

History:
* Coming.

[User]
As ordered, Broon reported to his Lady's tent to make his report; Melody had ordered that the Sedents be giving freedom of movement between it and other locations of need, such as the now-destroyed village's well or the shit pit, and the four guards stationed outside the tent and conspicuously watching these comings and goings had been giving the Captain frequent reports on what they saw.

But it was a mix of men, women, and children not officially on guard duty but who were inconspicuously keeping an eye on the barbarians who provided Broon -- and through him Melody -- with the best intelligence on the group.

"There are reports of a great deal of secretive chatting between Kengetar's people," Broon told her, "and on a couple of occasions, the perimeter guards have had to turn back Sedents who were ambling toward the forest."

"Were they trying to escape, Kapiten?" Melody asked, looking for clarification. "Or were they simply wishing to hunt fresh food ... or, perhaps, find a private place to take a shit?"

Broon smile and even chuckled a bit. There were, in fact, two Shtëpi muti ... 'shit houses' on the perimeter of the former village, away from the residential buildings such that the smell didn't wash over the town during high winds. The nearest of them had caught fire, though; the other was now off limits as it was on the other side of the community's ruins and, therefore, out of sight of the Yallan Guards.

"I believe they were likely testing the perimeter established by my warriors, m'lady," Broon said. Then he smiled, adding, "Or perhaps looking for a private place to shit." He donned a more serious expression as he continued, "We dug a pit and put a tent around it to replace the Shtëpi muti. I will make sure that the Sedents are informed that they, too, may use it."

"I will go with you, Kapiten," Melody said. "I have other business with Kengetar and his people."

She rose from the pillow bed on the tent's carpeted floor where she'd been resting to step into her boots and donned a heavy cloak; a chill was becoming ever worse with each passing hour that was uncommon for this far southern region. The two of them headed for the biggest of the Yallan tents, and upon reaching it, Melody immediately noticed several unfortunate things about it:

First, it was far too small for the number of Sedent survivors. There was virtually no walking room between the clusters of people, who she presumed were grouping of families or friends.

Second, there was only one fire -- below the smoke hole in the center, of course -- and it simply wasn't sufficient to keep warm all of the tent's inhabitants. Melody knew it was only going to get colder, too, and she feared that those sleeping near the tent's wall might become too cold during the night and, quite possibly, die from hypothermia.

Third, despite having supplied food and water to the Sedents, Melody saw none of either now; the group had already devoured and drank all that her troops had delivered to them.

And finally, throughout the tent, Melody could see and in some cases hear the suffering of those who had been injured during the attack. Broon had reported earlier that an old man and a young woman had already perished from wounds inflicted during the fight, and less than 10 hours had passed since the first blood had spilled.

She turned to her Captain and the two men with him, Broon's Oficerë më të vegjël; there was no real Common Tongue translation for the Old Language phrase, with the closest meaning being Lesser or Junior Officers, sometimes simply called Juniors. After some quickly dictated orders, the Juniors immediately hurried off.

"M'lady, please," Broon said softly but with obvious concern when Melody began to enter the tent. When she looked to him for clarification, he glanced at the Sedents -- some of whom were looking at Melody with dagger eyes -- and said in whisper, "I'm not sure you should be here without more security."

Melody looked to those crowded throughout the tent and wondered if perhaps Broon wasn't correct; Kengetar hadn't broken her neck when he'd been alone with her, but he'd had a reason for not doing so, which had been to learn if maybe there wasn't a good reason for delaying such revenge until later. He had delayed, of course, but would his people have the same restraint?

She caught sight of a squatting woman clutching an obviously cold toddler in her arms, and she knew she couldn't simply turn and leave the tent without making some sort of attempt to help the situation. She unhooked the chain that held together the collar of her cloak, peeled it from her shoulders, moved to the woman, and -- after asking, "May I?" -- draped the thick, war, fur-lined cloak over her. Melody tucked the garment around the woman, smiling as she said, "You keep this as long as you need it. It is now yours."

One of the Juniors who'd rushed off returned now, leading two slaves who carried a goat carcass between them on a pole; it still smoked from having just come off from over a roasting fire, and while it was missing one entire hind quarter, the rest of the meat was there for the consuming. The slaves jammed the ends of the pole into the dome-shaped tent's supports, letting the animal dangle over the dirt floor at about chest high.

Melody gestured to the Junior for his knife, and after slicing off a hand-sized chunk of the remaining rear leg, she offered it out to the nearest child. "I uritur?" she asked the boy, and then unsure if she was using his Tribe's language correctly, expanded on her question in Common, "Are you hungery? Eat. Please."

The boy took the meat and eagerly sunk his teeth into it. Melody cut free another chunk of goat and offered it to a little girl who hurried up to her with a smile and outstretched hands. Melody laughed at the child's eagerness, warning, "Është e nxehtë ... it is hot."

It only took a moment for a line of hungry Sedents to begin forming. Melody had other tasks she wished to pursue, so she offered the knife out to one of Kengetar's female neighbors. She hesitated, uncertain; Melody used it to partially cut another chunk of meat but left the blade in the animal's carcass, gesturing to the woman while telling her, "You cut."

As Melody backed away, the woman moved in, and soon she was cutting slices of delicious, red meat. The Clan Yalla leader turned to the Junior and ordered, "Bring me chickens, ducks, and geese ... five each. And bread. And water.." When the young officer gave her a look that she interpreted as For them, the enemy, the prisoner? Melody growled, "Do it ... or I'll feed you to them instead."

Melody looked for Kengetar; when she found him, she found herself taking in his once-again scantily clad body, reminiscing on the view he'd offered her in her own tent earlier in the day. When they were together again, she said, "My tent is warm and dry with a carpet floor. I want all of the children moved there, where they will be protected from the cold. Send which ever women feel they need to go as well.

"And my Healer and my Kirurg are both on their way here to tend to the wounded." She didn't know if the man knew the Old Language word for surgeon, so she translated it for him. She continued, "I am having a floor and a second layer of tarp put over another tent to make it warmer and cleaner ... for the injured. They should not be here, Kengetar."

She gave him an opportunity to respond to what she'd done so far and to either accept or refuse what he offered before finishing, "My Kapiten tells me that survivors have been seen by our scouts in the woods. Sedents, I mean, of course ... your people. You are welcome to invite them into the camp if you wish. Or, if this frightens them ... if they won't trust me like you do--"

Melody looked for Kengetar's reaction to her presumption that he trusted her but continued without waiting for a response, "--you may feel free to venture to the forest's edge to speak with them ... to make whatever arrangements you wish for them. They may stay in the forest ... join us ... built a camp of their own on the other side of the village. I will provide them with food if they need it."

She smiled to the man, hoping that what he had to say after all of this would only strengthen what she thought was becoming a bond of sorts between them.

[Assistant]
Kengetar nodded. His face was no longer in a perpetual scowl, and something of an imperceptible smile crept onto his lips. He began relaying her words to the chief. He assented that those with children would be kept in the single tent, and said he would allow healers into this one. Kengetar took a few people who were uninjured with him to the forest outskirts of the town. They all gave out the coded cry for safety, hoping that any survivors who had fled into the woods would hear it and return. They could do no more.

Kengetar returned to the large tent. The healers had arrived, so he allowed one of them to clean the wound at the back of his head, and apply a salve to it. Finally feeling exhaustion from his wound and the day's events, he laid out on his side in the tent to rest. He wondered idly where that woman was going to be now, since she had donated her tent.


[System]
Age: 101
Race: Dwarf
Alignment: Neutral Good
Class: Cleric (War Domain)
Description:

Biography:
Bjoric was born into a large family within the halls of the small dwarven city. They were considered pillars of the community, his eldest brother practically ran the mine that was the lifeblood of the city. Even his uncle boasted that a third of all the craftsmen in the city had Stoutsmith blood in their veins. As a young man Bjoric was the first in his family to take vows and join the clergy, but it wasn't long after that the mines fell. Having broken into a vast network of caves they had awoken a swarm of giant insect like creature that had crawled out a nightmare. After the many who had died at the swarms arrival, they fought back to reclaim livelihood. Bjoric and the rest of the clergy worked to heal those who were wounded in the fighting, many falling ill to their poisonous bite. Soon they were unable to keep the fighting contained to the mines and taking up the hammer his father had made for him, Bjoric fought to keep the monstrosities away from the wounded while they escaped. This was when Bjoric found he was able to call for Moradins aid in battle far more easily than the other clerics.
Aiding in the escape, Bjoric and the rest of the dwarves were forced to abandon the city with the few who survived. Few of his family were among those who survived, they and the other survivors made their way to neighboring towns or cities trying to make new lives. The pain of losing so many family led Bjoric to decide that a life of wandering the world would lead to his finding peace.
Demeanor/Attitude:
As with any proud dwarf, Bjoric has a passion for ale. Again being true to his kind he can be seen as gruff to those who don't know him well but is fiercely loyal to those he calls friend.
Other:
Since beginning his adventures he's developed the habit of shouting curses and insults at his foes.

[User]
"I failed you, father..." Varis stated as he slumped down in the cell once more, destructive rather saddening thoughts entering his head of his. Intrusive as they were, they were mostly accurate. Varis had a fortnight, or fourteen days, to murder his innocent target -- which was some type of merchant -- but because of this horrendous disaster, chances were, he wouldn't be able to kill the target in time.

Not like he actually needed the gold anyways. He had enough gold saved up over the years to live out a rather prosperous life, but he took on this assassination contract because simply, he had nothing else to do. Varis already tried living out a normal life, but it just wasn't for him.

"I failed..." Varis said once more, his head down, his gaze set on the metallic floor of the small cage. "I failed," Varis slammed his fist into the metal cage. "I failed, I failed, I failed," With each two words, he continually slammed his fists into the metallic floor. This was the first time he had ever failed a mission. The only thing he was good for, the only thing he was ever made for and trained for, he failed at.

After a few more punches, he stopped, raising his head as his eyes darted around once more before finally settling on one person.

"VIVIAN!" Varis instinctively shouted out as his eyes finally found her, clutching the bars that were in front of him, keeping him trapped in the damned cage like some sort of bird. He allowed for a few seconds of silence to fill the air before he finally realized what he was doing, causing him to recoil backwards and place both of his hands over his mouth just as the cocky marksman had done once before.

He had found her, and he didn't exactly know why he searched for her. Perhaps it was because he had interacted with her the most, perhaps it was caused by this unholy disaster that's occurred to them just this instant, or perhaps it was due to some other reason. Whatever it was, Varis had no idea what the reason was. It was the first time this had ever happened.

Slowly, Varis removed his hands away from his mouth just as the marksman once did, only to be interrupted by the sounds of the cocky marksman being dragged away herself.

"SANA-" Varis stopped himself before he could finish, absolutely mortified at himself as he raised his hands towards his face, looking down at them with eyes of sadness rather than anger. Why was he calling his allies -- his "teammates" -- by their names now? Why did he suddenly care for them, even if just an ounce?

"DONTCHU FUCKING DO IT," Varis could hear the anger issues man -- Hugh was his name, Varis believed so -- screaming out, causing Varis to stare at him in awe.

[Assistant]
Bjoric woke with a snort at the sound of Sana screaming as she was being dragged by the zombie. He began reaching around for his hammer but found it missing and that he was now in a cage. As everyone began screaming at the zombie, Hugh especially, Bjoric reached under his shirt (now finding that his armor was gone too) to pull forth his second holly symbol. But by the time he had it free of his clothes, Sana has been dragged through the door.

"GRAH!" Bjoric shouted in frustration and kicked at the metal cage, the old but thick bars barely shaking. That's when he heard Hugh break the bars to his cage after sounding as if he'd gone mad. Hugh grabbed Ellis' pack and threw it to the halfling, telling him to free the other before charging through the door after Sana. Bjoric could hear him shouting like a madman as he charged, his screaming almost blocking the sounds of heavy crashes bones breaking.

"Ellis, that maniac is going to need my help. Be quick!" He could hear Hugh pummeling the undead, but if what he suspected was here...

Moradin help us.

[User]
Drizzak

---

The goblin, now thoroughly derobed, awoke within his cage with a start. His paleness was easy to pick out between the bars as he hopped to his feet and attempted to walk out of the cage, only to meet with its wall with a resounding CLANG.

It didn't take long for the goblin's cries of pain and distress to turn into frustrated growls of annoyance as she rattled at the bars. His arms shook with rage as the bars rattled to and fro. They did not move much. Finally, Drizzak slumped against the bars uselessly. Yet again he is reminded of his goblinoid limitations. Bound to this shell, he was easily contained and stripped of the belongings that he held so dear.

The dragon, once proud, had been caged. This saddened Drizzak. For but a moment. From within him rose a noise. Small at first, but it grew in intensity to become a terrible cacophonous shriek of rage.

The small goblin, in all his impotent rage, began to pound and scratch and claw and bite at his confinements. No one cages the dragon. No one stops the dragon. He began to chant, powering himself on as he rebelled against his surroundings. Blood was beginning to trickle from his hands and he bashed again and again.

"RIP. TEAR. KILL. EAT. RIP. TEAR. KILL. EAT."

The little white horror ran back and forth, rebounding off the walls of its cage in a show of self-destructive force. Were the bars beginning to bend? Was the lock beginning to creak? The screams from Drizzak sounded out above all other noises as his attempt to escape surged on. His cage rocked back and forth as he threw his caution to the wind and flung himself at the wall again and again and again.

The dragon was angered now. There was no stopping it.

[Assistant]
Ellis caught the pouch and saw Hugh run off. He was about to say something ,but after what he saw. Fuck it. You work your way down that hall as much as you can big guy. While I get everyone out. He took out his tools and began to go to work on his cage. In not time flat he heard a click. He then pushed the gate open. He couldn't get these open in time though he feared. So he would pick three cages that belonged to the three who could help Hugh the best. He moved to the pile picking up their belongings. Well as much as he could. The magus's sword, the dwarf's hammer, and the goblin's vials. He even tried to carry pieces of their armor. He stopped at the dwarf's cage first. He dropped the stuff and began to pick at the cage's lock tell once more he heard a click. He opened the cage and nodded. "Go help him get Sana back,... I saw that figure for only a second before I crashed. I never felt a rush of fear like that." He said.

 Ellis then went to the goblin's cage. He tossed one of the vials at Drizzak hoping he would catch it. He then began picking the goblin's lock and once he did he swung it open. "Get your stuff, their in the corner. No time to stop, bring the fight to that hooded bastard." He then ran over to Artos's cage. He began to pick the lock and did so in a fast manner. "You too, there is your sword and stuff. Get going..." He then began picking the locks on the other cages, one by one. Vivian's, Varis's, Garekk's, Ellyn's, and then the newcomers. What ever her name was. He then moved to the pile of stuff and grabbed more that was his. His short sword and dagger in hand. He charged through the door way. He could see Hugh from a distance and he kinda rose a brow. The man was beginning to glow....

 Hugh's armor began to vanish from its place in the corner and placed on him on piece at a time with a shining light that began to blind the undead around him. He would feel a boost in strength as well. He was no longer just punching the heads off the skeletons. They were shattering under his might. He was slamming zombies to the ground with enough force to shatter their bones. They were still a danger though to the others for the zombies could still crawl.

 Ellis saw one crawling at him. Snapping its ugly face and Ellis out of instinct lunged forward his short sword piercing through its head and skull dropping the zombie into a lifeless state. He sighed and looked about waiting for the others to join him.

 Vivian heard the click of her cage and staggered out of it as the gate opened. She still could feel the ringing in her head. It had lessened now. Must have been the fall down the stairs that did this... or something dropped me on my head. She saw that Varis's was unlocked and few others as well. She smiled and simply decided to take it slow. At least her eye sight had returned. Now if only the headache would go away. I swear if I got a concussion from this I am going to be pissed. Once she made it to the pile she began to get her things. Starting with her swords, then her hand crossbows. Next came her vials. Which half of them were broken and she just tossed them down to the ground discarding them. I don't need those anymore. I got people to look after me when I need it.

 She wondered if Ellyn had a remedy for this headache. Like some rejuvenation song spell or some shit....

 Garekk the orc climbed out of his cage. He wasted no time grabbing his sword and his other stuff. He then grabbed the hammer belonging to Hugh as well. Putting his weapons in their respected slots. He decided to put one of the many things orcs do in situations like this. He decided to let the blood rush to his head and go beserk. His targets where the undead. He put the face of his greatest foe on them and proceeded to use Hugh's hammer to crush them into oblivion. He didn't stop swinging until they stopped moving. Once he got close enough he would toss the hammer to Hugh.

 Vivian was a bit happy that the others were able to get right into action so fast. She cursed at her weakness. Her frail weak body and how a simple fall caused her this headache. It had reduced some ,but it would just have to do. She decided she would take a few of the vial's unbroken. Realizing that they could benefit the group as well. She only had three left though. The poison wouldn't work on the undead though and that she knew already. She tried moving to the door but she only managed to sit beside it. Yup,... great job Viv, you got a concussion from falling down stairs.

 She looked to see if she could see Ellyn or Artos. "You don't know any spells that could fix a concussion do you?"


[System]
William NorthCharacter Summary
Aliases: Beserker, Will
Age: 24
Place of Origin: Unknown
Gender: Male
Speciality: Melee
Roles & Rank: Knight Commander
Physical Attributes
Height: 6'3
Weight: 205
Build: Lean, Well muscles
Eyes: Red
Hair: White
Skin Tone: Pale
Tattoos/Scars/Piercings: None
Day To Day Attire: Normally he be found with a full suit of armor on, as he has to always be prepared for battle.
Strengths: Agile, Strong, Good Reflexes
Weaknesses: Susceptible to concussions, Requires a lot more sleep than others to properly function, at least 10 hours or he will be incredibly fatigued
Psychological AttributesHonest Caring Protective LoyalSexuality: Heterosexual
Relationship Status: Single
Personality: You'd never guess William's personality from how he massacres anyone he runs into in battle. William does his best to be friendly with everyone, and does whatever he can to protect those around him, to the point of where he has taken multiple arrows for some of the Knights in his company (although he could have healed them.).

He also has very firm beliefs in what's right and wrong, and does best not to compromise his moral code, this tends to make him very stubborn on some aspects, and he may cause him to be somewhat abrasive by accident.
Habits:
Cracking his knuckles
Stretching his arms above his head when he gets nervous
Talking too much
Sleeping too long and missing things
Hobbies:
Training the Knights under him
Reading
Horseback Riding
Sleeping
Swimming
Painting
Fears:
Spiders
Millipedes
Venus Fly Traps
Fire
Likes:
Reading
Oranges
Sleeping
Any activity with others
Sparring
Helping people out
Dislikes:
Large Animals
Bugs
Having to kill people
Heat
Having to stay awake for prolonged period of time
Bad food
Skills
* Swordfighting(Master): William is nearly unparalleled in sword fighting
* Acrobatics (Expert): William can flip, recover easily from falls, and is very flexible
* Ambidextrous (Master): William can do things well with either hand

Talents & Powers
* Healing (Power)(Major): William is able to heal all types of wounds, big or small, the more he heals, the more tired he gets.
* Horizon (Relic)(Major): A sword that's capable of extending on command, it only extends when Will wields it. Will doesn't know where he got it.
* Beserk (Power)(Minor): William will fight, not feeling any injuries or pain during this. He still takes the injuries. This 'mode' ends when he becomes too tired to continue, or gets knocked out. The issue is, when he enters this mode, it becomes hard to distinguish enemies from friends.
* Right back at you (Relic)(Minor): An unbreakable boomerang that always comes back, no matter what!

HistoryParents: Unknown
Siblings: Unknown
Childhood: Unknown
Adulthood: William woke up about six months ago laying outside of a caravan, blood all over the ground and dead bodies littered around him, suffice to say, it was a bit jarring. The more noticeable thing however, was that he didn't know who he was, who the people around him were, or what he was doing here. He did however have a sword and boomerang on him!
He wandered to the nearest settlement, which just so happened to be this very Queendom. William realized he had Skill with a blade, and enlisted as a knight. Over a span of six months, he had taken down multiple small bandit organizations scattered about the queendom, enough to get him recognized,and promoted to a Commander
Special Moments: Waking up in a field of blood is something not easily forgotten. He also remembered when he first saw the queen, she was pretty pretty, and gave him a nice promotion. Current Events: William normally spends his days patrolling the area. When the queen summoned him however, he was asleep.
Relations* ☠ Enemy * ⚜ Unfriendly * ☯ Neutral * ☮ Friends * ღ Ally * ♥ Crush/Significant Other *
* Willow ☮ William doesn't know her, but he figures since he only hears good things, she must be nice.
* Locket ☮ He's a pervert, no doubt about it, but he's friendly, and funny. Perverted, but not a liar
* Queen Celosia ☮ She's nice, pretty, and gave him a promotion. He'd probably die for her.
* Arthur ☮ A pretty loyal dude. Wears nice outfits.
* Name:Eliza☮ William respects her dedication. Plus she can change the weather? Pretty cool gal.
* Kolburn ☮  One of the few people William believes could take him on with ease, although that terrifies the bajeezus out of him, it excites him way more. He wants to fight her so bad! And then be friends.
* Adelina ☮  William also believes Adeline has the potential to beat him, but doesn't really fear her like Kolburn. She's loyal though, and nice. William wants to be friends with her too!
* Samuel ☮  Scary dude, but strong in his own way. William hope the queen never gives his name to Samuel.

* Paladins: William picks his Knights on two things. Skill, and behavior. His Knights aren't based solely on their strength, but also on how many of them tend to go beyond the line of duty to help others. They respect William, and he respects them. They number 50 strong and are all capable of at least minor healing.

[User]
Arthur Vastria

A bit winded, Arthur slows his run as he arrives at the road following the castle wall. He was a fair distance away from the main gate, which he would probably be let through if he said he was there to see Sophia. However, he thought that lie might be a bit shortsighted if both the Woodwraith and Storming Queen were in town. Something big must be happening, and his both his sisters would more than likely be involved in recon, surveillance, or conflict depending.

I don't believe they've found this entrance yet... I don't use it that often— is it even considered an entrance?

"Doubtful." Arthur mumbled, beginning to think aloud as his thoughts drifted a bit. Any excuse for being within the castle walls that might be enough to save his hide. "Only if caught... right?" Arthur looked around briefly before making his way across to the bushes in front of the castle wall. Behind them, just out of sight, was a small crawlspace leading to the other side; into the royal gardens. Arthur tugged at his collar, loosening it a bit and calming his nerves slightly, before crawling through to the bushes beyond.

A soft melody echoed through the garden, adding a nice ambiance. Arthur took a few moments longer than he intended to stand and dust himself off. He still remained out of sight, at least he believes he's out of sight, admiring the beauty and delicacy of the harp in the distance. Arthur might have simply left afterwards, his heart and mind put at ease due to the music. But it stopped abruptly, snapping his attention back to the reality of where he was.

It stopped? Wh— I was smaller before, but I was caught then. How to get to the castle?

[Assistant]
Celosia Serafine

The meeting, for all intents and purposes, had concluded and Celosia was ready to see to the other matters that required her business. There was often a misconception that all Celosia did was sit on her, admittedly fit, ass all day but there was more to it than that. In truth Celosia only sat on the throne when seeing visitors or delegates from other countries, when matters of the realm's safety needed handling, and, in some exceptions, hearing reports from knights and other agents. Most of her duties were done elsewhere in the castle, be it the stack of letters and writs in the corner of her chambers or the meeting of her advisory council regularly or even just sitting in on her children's lessons just to make sure they were retaining the knowledge.

But though her position was full of duties and responsibilities, she always made sure to set time aside for personal time. With news of this illness reaching her ears more and more frequently she needed a moment to unwind now more than ever. A queen that let the burden and stress of caring for a country build up was a queen that meets an unfortunate fate. As her commanders dispersed Celosia moved to remove herself from the throne room - but was called to sit back down as a late arrival bowed and made his presence known.

Ser William North, another of her Commanders. A young man - some questioned the decision given his relative youth and non native birth - a decision she defended time and again with the simple fact that his service speaks for itself - but a good man all the same. If a bit...lethargic, but who among the court didn't have their eccentricities? Celosia certainly enjoyed how unique her Commanders were - a cadre of knights all cut from the same cloth would be very dull indeed.

"Commander North, your suggestion for remodeling will be considered, however it is not why I had summoned you. There have been talks of an infection in Azure's Gate - black eyes and enhanced, dangerous strength. I have other Commanders looking into these claims - I would have you and your Paladins see if you can't offer those infected some comfort. And I do not mean simply a cure - but if you CAN cure it then by all means. But...if need be...you have the authority to...handle their suffering." It was a grim order, but often it was a necessary one. She did not give the command loosely, and even now she said it with no small amount of concern. Trepidation. "That will be all, Commander North. Dismissed.

Now the meeting was over and Celosia waited until she left the throne room to let out a long sigh. It was times like this that she didn't envy her position. How many little girls had dreams of being a princess? Being a queen? Even Celosia was eager when it dawned on her that she would one day rule. But she had been Queen for nigh on twenty years now, when her mother willingly transferred power to nurse her illness. Celosia was not prepared then but she was excited. Now...now she still felt unprepared. She still felt powerless at times. Little girls wishing to be queens were so...beautifully naive.

Celosia made her way to one of her favorite locations in the castle - the outer gardens. Often she could be found there, sitting near a fountain and a hedge of roses. Just five minutes. That was all she wanted right now. Five minutes to clear her head...to forget the burden of the crown...and to just enjoy the beautiful scenery around her. The most important lesson she ever learned was to stop and smell the roses. It was a lesson she held dear even now.