[System]
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Appearance:

Stands tall at about 6'2. Is well-muscled and broad of shoulder.

Personality:
Focused and keen, Renar is a man who knows what he wants and how to acquire it. And if he can't acquire it yet, he'll find a way. From his days as a child, he'd possessed a chip on his shoulder about his status as a bastard, ever seeking to prove himself and win glory. So long as one doesn't throw his natural born origins in his face, Renar is unbothered, but anyone who attempts to degrade him by insulting his birth status wins themselves a grudge. His primary goal is to win enough prestige in order to rise above his bastard status, either becoming legitimized and taking his father's name or being allowed to start his own noble house.

Renar is more cunning than he is chivalrous, willing to take actions that nobler knights would balk at. After all, he's already a bastard. He'd only be living down to what was expected of him. So why not abuse that to his advantage? In his mind, a knight is a trained killer first and foremost, and any pretensions to honor and chivalry are coping mechanisms to convince oneself of their cause. Still, even he has his limits, and he would not stand for harming children or one's spouse or paramour.

Despite his craftiness, Renar can't help himself when it comes to personal challenges. Whether it be a formal duel or a single combat in the midst of battle, he is easily goaded into one-on-one battles, eagerly wishing to prove himself over another.

Brief Backstory:
Born as a bastard of the House of Brias to his lord father and a commoner mother, Renar was nonetheless allowed to reside within his family's castle and be raised alongside his trueborn siblings. The Brias family had martial origins, originally being a knightly house before winning lands and glory a century ago. Nonetheless, they were still only a minor house, and even a bastard could be of use to them. By the time Renar was capable of walking and talking, his eldest half-brother was already a grown man. Nonetheless, another son could always win more prestige for the family, despite his bastard status. He would never bear the family name, but he could certainly create his own dynasty.

Renar was raised much the same as his half-siblings were, given a formal education as well as training at arms. He had a fair head for numbers and proved himself adequate in matters of administration, but Renar's talents skewed far more towards the training yard. Castle Brias's master-of-arms was noted to have remarked that of all of Lord Brias's sons, the bastard was by far the most skilled in the knightly arts.

Once he'd completed his squiring and his training, Renar took to the battlefield in the hopes of earning his knighthood. A bastard had no place on the tourney circuit, and so real combat was his only chance to prove himself worthy. While it only took a few skirmishes for his trueborn brothers to be knighted, Renar served under a banneret for a number of years before finally seizing his opportunity during a defense against an orcish raid into Thaln. After a brutal battle, Renar slew the orcs' warchief in single combat, claiming the raid leader's mantle as a trophy and distinguishing himself in the process, earning both a knighthood and a recruitment into the Iron Rose Knights.

Equipment:
Renar's armor is rugged and well-worn, but solid and dependable. His set of full plate appears to be a hodgepodge of whatever pieces he determined both fit him well and provided the best protection. He bears a cavalry lance for use on horseback, but prefers using a poleaxe on foot. His sidearms consist of an arming sword and a dagger, both sheathed on his belt. Renar wears a fur-lined mantle into battle, it once belonging to an orcish raid leader he'd slain in single combat and kept as a trophy. His steed is a simple brown charger.

Skills:
Renar is skilled and well-rounded in the knightly arts. Despite the fact that he rides well enough and would likely place a decent ranking in a joust, he prefers fighting on foot as an infantryman and is a far better infantry fighter than he is a cavalryman. He has been trained in most martial weapons, and can fight well enough with a sword. However, his true ability lies in fighting with polearms and quarterstaves, enjoying the reach and versatility a pole weapon affords him.

However, Renar is a terrible shot with a bow and has zero ability for magic. He attempts to compensate for these shortcomings with sheer physical might, exercising and training constantly in order to improve his strength and agility.

Off the battlefield, Renar has a surprising head for numbers and accounting for a knight, being rather adept at financial administration.

[User]
~ The Bandit Camp ~

Interacted with: @VitaVitaAR

The battle had been fierce. One-sided, but fierce.

The Iron Rose Knights cut, sliced and stabbed. The bandits attempted to put up somewhat of a fight but not only were they caught by surprise, but they were hopelessly outmatched as well. The clash of blades sang in the air and the ripping and tearing of flesh joined it. Guarding the vanguard's flank, Jarde lost himself in the fighting. His entire focus was in taking down bandits and surviving.

The bandits... were not fighters. At least not good fighters. Jarde easily moved, dodged and avoided their almost-clumsy swings and thrusts. His counterattacks were quick, too fast for any of the bandits to react to. Although, the young knight found himself going for non-lethal takedowns instead of the clean kills his fellow knights exhibited. He had kicked bandits into tents, his sickles struck limbs and his knees met faces. Jarde wondered if his sparing would change these bandits' ultimate fates but he supposed that was outside of his concern.

Jarde soon ran out of bandits to fight. The respite allowed his thoughts to return to the battle plan. Surveying his surroundings, he realized he was still at the vanguard flank protecting it but someone was missing.

"Captain?"

He called out. Fanilly was nowhere to be seen. Jarde's eyes darted to and fro the battle, trying to spot the Captain. A fallen, burning tree caught his attention and beyond its inferno, he saw who he was looking for... and someone he was definitely not looking for. Fanilly had separated from the battle and found herself facing a large, imposing man wielding a blade of enormous size. Jarde's feet were already moving, covering much distance thanks to him being light and agile.

As the Bandit King charged Fanilly, Jarde made one great leap over the burning wood. The tall flames singeing his legs a bit. The young knight delivered a bold, flying kick at Jeremiah but the Bandit King saw it coming and blocked with his huge blade. Jarde's foot landed on the blade's broad side and he quickly hopped off before Jeremiah could do anything, landing just beside Captain Fanilly.

"You okay, Captain?"

He threw a short question at Fanilly, his gaze still focused on the Bandit King. With a blade as large as that, blocking was out of the question. Jarde will have to utilize his speed to avoid the swings. Like his fights earlier, but the stakes were higher this time. While he could take a painful hit from a bandit's weapon and survive, there was no surviving this blade should an attack be successful.

[Assistant]
When the attack was sounded Indrau made little better than a fast walking pace. He wasn't a front line fighter by any means but neither were their opponents. Against a professional army he would have sat out the fight. Fighting simple bandits let him treat each opponent as a duel, defeating them before another could come to complicate things.

Most of them lasted a just a couple of moves before he landed a crippling or lethal blow. Some exemplars among them lasted half a dozen before being cut down. He paced himself to keep abreast of the front line and stop himself from getting cut off.

He watched with horror as the tree came down, powerless to do anything. He redoubled his efforts in fighting the bandits, taking more risks and using his bracers to parry as well as his blade.

[User]
And there it was, that extraordinary incident.

Even from the rear of the camp, the burning tree was easy enough to spot, its crash thunderous. Immediately, Elodie was on the move, her Blasting Rod in hand as she rushed past the melee of knights and bandits. With so much steel and death around, few paid attention to the brunette that slipped into the camp itself. Keeping quiet and subdued, the artificer kept careful watch over her surroundings as she got closer and closer to the keystone to the bandit's success. That was all that mattered, after all; if what she had witnessed at the rear was any indication, the bandits were wholly worthless against the regular armor without this.

So even if a couple of them escaped, that was within the realm of expertise of regular towns' guards. Only the Bandit King's head had to be taken to consider this a victory.

The acrid stench of smoke grew stronger as she approached. The blazing tree had set surrounding tents ablaze as well, creating a fiery, breath-stealing arena. Few would last long here, but this fight wouldn't last long. Jeremiah had a thick neck, but prodigious size did not dissuade the sharpened blade. Readjusting the goggles over her eyes, Elodie grimaced at the stink, before leveling her weapon unto the bare-chested man.

But Elodie did not fire. Not yet.

Fanilly was the Knight-Captain, after all. She deserved a chance to earn glory before all else.

[Assistant]
Maritza Verenna

 Their assault was proving to be a quick as it was lethal. Campfires scattered in the fighting had lit a couple of tents alight, adding smoke to the sensory overload of the of the battlefield. Cracking the skull of a bandit with a spin of her quarterstaff, Mari slides back, taking a moment to observe the fight. They had pushed well into the camp, the rose knights now fully inside what had passed for it's walls.

 The resounding crash of the flaming tree hitting the ground was impossible to miss. Rearing up on the end of her tail for a better view, Mari catches sight of the bandit king on the far side of the tree and Cpt. Fanilly stuck over there with him. "Nobody try blocking him!" She hears Tyaethe shout as the vampire goes bolting towards the scene along with several other knights, leaving a number of holes in their battle line. Instead of charging in, Mari falls back towards Dame Aria's squad, intent on serving as a skirmisher on the outer wing of their shield wall.


[System]
Age: 17

Appearance: Standing at 186 cm and weighing in at 84 kg, Zarin has a very toned build from his years of training. His golden eyes and fair skin contrast is messy jet black hair. When not in uniform, his usual outfit consists of a plain white shirt, black pants, black fingerless gloves, and a jacket with a gold trim and red lining. He keeps the sleeves rolled up to show off his dragon tattoo that he got the day before he left for the academy.

Bio/Summary: The product of an affair between a Lord and one of his servants, Zarin was shunned by nearly everyone around him. Though he was permitted to live within the walls of the lord's house with his mother, he was never allowed to refer to himself as noble nor the lord his dad. In fact, the only people who did mention his upbringing was his half siblings as they teased him about it relentlessly.

One day, after deciding he had put up with enough, Zarin snapped and promptly punched his siblings lights out. He was then banished from the manor and forbidden from ever coming back. Normally this would have been a bad thing, but it just so happened that Zarin's vessel awoke that day as well.

Taking it as a sign, Zarin headed straight to the Cadenza Imperial Military Academy and never looked back.

Now a fierce and competent warrior, Zarin is in the top percentile of his class. His potential as a soldier would be unquestionable if it wasn't for his hot headed and stubborn attitude. His quick temper and overconfidence have gotten him into trouble more times than anyone can count, and he has a nasty habit of picking fights with other cadets. At least he's never been dumb enough to challenge a commanding officer.

Vessel: In its dormant form, Zarin's vessel Fafnir takes the shape of dog tags usually hanging around his neck. When active, Fafnir becomes a deadly chain whip

Abilities:
Dragon's Fire: At will, Zarin can ignite his whip engulfing it in fire adding a nice burn to all his hits. With a crack of his whip, he can launch the fire as a fireball and immediately reignite the chain.

Dragon Scales: If you can't stand the heat, let Zarin handle it. His vessel gives him complete immunity to burning and other fire based attacks.

Plot Convenience: The chain in Zarin's whip is able to change to any realistic size as the situation calls for it.

Burning Disk: Spinning his whip at full speed, Zarin can launch a massive flaming disk that can both cut and burn through his enemies.

Flame Dash: In the blink of an eye, Zarin instantly moves up to 10 ft in any direction leaving a trail of fire behind. (Note that this is not a teleport. Zarin is still tangible during the dash and cannot move through anything obstructing his path.)

Equipment: Concealed knife in his boot. Pack of cigarettes.

Trivia/Other: If you haven't guessed, Zarin loves dragons. If he ever got the chance to meet one he would take it at all costs.
Can play the guitar, but doesn't own one.

Name: Fafnir
Gender: Male
Element: Fire
Rank: B
Height: 5m
Length: 8m
Weight: 2 tons

Personality: Despite his rather intimidating appearance, Fafnir is actually rather docile. Being a lesser dragon, Fafnir knows there are bigger and badder beings out there than he, and relying on brute strength won't always work. As such he has learned to fight smart and to pick his battles rather than jump on any and every challenge presented. This has led to some contention between him and his over aggressive Song Knight.

In truth their opposing personalities was the reason Fafnir chose Zarin. He figured if he could help the boy learn how to control his anger and pride, he could become something great. To achieve this, Fafnir is more likely to stay back and give advice rather than actually jump into fray himself.

That being said, once he is called upon by his Song Knight, Fafnir doesn't hold back. If something truly poses a threat to Zarin, this fire dragon will make sure nothing remains but ash and cinders.

Powers:

Fire breath: A staple of all dragons, Fafnir can breathe fire. However, he is able to control the form the attack takes. From the standard flame thrower, to fire balls and even waves of fire, Fafnir has many ways to turn his foes into ash.

Fire Scales: Engulfing parts of his body in fire, Fafnir can create things such as fire claws or a flame shield to give him an edge in combat.

One with the Flame: Fafnir is not just immune to fire, he he gains strength from it. He can absorb any fire not created by him or Zarin and use it to increase in strength.

Incinerate: Channeling all the fire he can, Fafnir unleashes a torrent of flame that is nigh unstoppable. The caveat to such attack is it does require sometime to charge, and leaves Fafnir a bit drained afterwards.

[User]
Gradon blinked, not sure why everyone else was looking away from Diana's form. Surely she was only changing to better give room for her draconic form, yes? That seemed like the case as a golden lizard was finally manifested before them. And while it was well good and all, Gradon couldn't help but cough into his hand for Diana's attention, hoping to distract her from showing off more to his fellow cadets.
"Excuse me, Diana? We, um, still have a mission to discuss."

Perhaps he wasn't all that impressed, but truth be told, he just wanted to make sure everyone remembered the reason they were even here. Thankfully, Diana seemed to catch on and turned back into her human state. A few words were shared with Gradon nodding happily. Who knew a dragon could be so reasonable? "Good, good. We can report back to the Empire first thing in the morning-huh?"

Special training? No, no, they needed to report to the Empire right away! They didn't have time for a training montage! And yet, that didn't seem to be the popular opinion of anyone else. "Um, guys? Hey hold on, maybe we should….er, I guess we can…um…" But it would seem the decision had already been made, and Ires didn't seem to be helping. Well, so long as it wasn't too long, he supposed they could make a short detour. Without anything else to say, he waited for Diana to go ahead and begin their newfound training.

That was a month ago. Much, much longer than Gradon was expecting or would have liked. Granted, it had been well worth it he supposed. They had each acquired newfound powers, both of their Vessels and of their true Elemental Magic; as well as summoned beasts that had bonded to them. Gradon wasn't too enthusiastic about his own; the same snake he had seen before with that same dopey look on its expression. Could snakes even express emotion? This question had kept him up many a night.

The day Diana departed for the great beyond, she had left behind a gift in the form of music sheets. Also, monsters, now known to be called Dissonances. "We should take care of these quickly. Who knows how much of a lecture we're going to get for stalling this long," he said to the others with a sigh, waiting for Ires to give further orders. Little did he know of the extra pair of eyes observing their actions. A pair of human eyes.

[Assistant]
Egwene
"Who are you calling a bitch?" Egwene crackled her knuckles as she looked at Zarin whose lifespan is about to shorten throughout the training.

---

The winter training proved useful. It wasn't the toughest training she had ever encountered, but it has a huge depth of content to learn. And there a whole new world of possibilities with her weapon. And her weapon's true form is as disgusting as she thought. For it to have a holy affinity...

And Dissonances, the winter of trying out her new attained abilities on Zarin 'accidentally' has worked very well. With one draw of her sword, Egwene's sword whipped out towards the dissonance, the blade stretching out and biting it literally whilst emitting its iconic scream. With one twist of her wrist, she added the force of her attack.

Egwene had heard from the <<not black sword>> Gradon that they have to be taken away quickly. Well, can't be helped, time to call him out... She retracted her sword quickly like a grappling hook that was still on the dissonance, sending herself up in the air. "Xosun!" Egwene's vessel vanished as a four-headed silver hydra appeared behind her, the four necks sending itself towards each dissonances.

[User]
As Dianna flew off and the Dissonances she summoned turn to the group, Morgan sighed.

Well, I guess this counts as "not good with partings"...

Drawing the newest addition to his arsenal, the rifle he had stolen from the solders a month ago, he paused to aim down the sights, only to have his target torn into by a white snakelike head. Through Arcanus, he could sense the Hydra that been summoned by the white-haired girl a little ways away, and he lowered his rifle as a new plan began to form in his mind.

That... might just work. It'll be good to see the results of actual combat, and after all isn't the saying, "two heads are better than one"?

Muttering a stanza under his breath, Arcanus vanished from Morgan's eye, and a purple orb of light formed behind him.

[What is it? I was reading.]

Slightly grinning as Lore's childlike voice echoed in his head, Morgan gestured towards the Dissonances.

There's a decent combat scenario here. Haven't you been hoping for a field test as well?

When she noticed the Dissonances, Morgan felt a sense of glee pass over from Lore, and a second later a young woman, similar into him every way beside the lack of weapons and the purple eyes, stood beside him.

"I get to use the pistols though."

"Sure."

Passing over the twin pistols, Morgan took aim at one of the unharmed Dissonances and fired, covering Lore as she crept close for her own assault.

As Morgan's bullet passed through the creature's left eye, Lore dove in and wrapped her arm around its neck, pressing a barrel against the bottom of its head and firing, a sound akin to the detonation of an explosive resounding across the ruin as the Dissonance's head vanished and it turned back to a page of notes.

[Assistant]
Zarin Malthain & Fafnir

---

Zarin took full advantage of the opportunity given to him. No matter how hard he was pushed by the training, he made sure to push back twice as hard. There were some days he would be out training for so long Diana had to drag him back into the temple to eat and sleep. Although, achieving the latter was a challenge in itself as a certain someone liked to wake him up with Hydra bites in the middle of the night. At one point, Zarin attempted to convince Morgan to put Egwene in the false reality for a night. He was told it didn't work like that, and was then immediately bitten by a hydra.

Despite having to deal with the antics of his fellow cadets, the overall experience was well worth it. Not only did Zarin unlock more abilities, but he gained his very own spirit; The lesser dragon Fafnir. And now it was all about to be put to the test. As Diana's parting gifts screamed to life, Zarin cracked his neck and smirked. "Don't worry, Gradon. Fafnir and I will take these guys down in no time."

Holding his whip out and saying his stanza he waited for for the transformation, but nothing happened. "Hey, Fafnir, it's ass kicking time. Come on!" Zarin said shaking his whip as if he could shake his spirit loose.

I believe you are the one Lady Diana is testing, not me.

"Are you kidding me? You're really going to do this right now?" Zarin yelled at his vessel.

A month ago it took your entire squad to take down one of these things. Kill one on your own, and it will show the progress you've made.

Zarin dropped his arms to the side and let out a loud groan. "What is the point of having a spirit if you're not going to fight for me?"

Afraid you aren't strong enough to do it yourself?

"What? Of course not! I could easily take on a Dissonance!"

Prove it.

Zarin glared at his Vessel. He knew what Fafnir was doing, but he couldn't resist taking the bait. Slowly looking up at the Dissonances, Zarin unfurled his whip and charged the closest Dissonance. The beast was quick to notice and leapt straight for the song knight. Just before it could smash him with its claws, Zarin Flame Dashed to the left avoiding the attacking and leaving a nice fire trail for the monster to burn itself on when it landed. Reeling back in pain as its paw was badly singed, Zarin decided now would be ample time to test his new attack. Spinning his whip above him he created and launched Burning Disk directed towards the beats head. The Dissonance stood no chance as the disk swiftly decapitated it.

As it dissolved into the bloody darkness, Zarin looked at his Vessel and snarked, "Told you."


[System]
art by me :)
Age: 16
Gender: Female

Appearance
Though Arisa is not one to worry much at all about her appearance, she does takes pride in her toned physique. The results of having been trained by her father from a young age are evident in the sculpted muscles on her torso and limbs. Paired together with her piercing, disinterested gaze, people have a tendency to stay away from her.

She inherited much of her appearance from her father - jet black hair and sparkling hazel eyes - though her behaviour is much more similar to her mother, a researcher. She stands at 5'6, and appears slim under her clothes despite her built figure. The long scar that runs across her left cheek is something else she received from her dad, the product of a training session gone wrong. Rather than hide it, Arisa enjoys wearing it proudly as if it proves her worth, a medal for how hard she has trained for the glorious mission of the protection of mankind. Arisa's wardrobe is unsurprisingly basic—her one-track mind is often too focused on training to worry about frivolous things like fashion. She normally adorns any sort of comfortable loungewear, like hoodies, tank tops, t-shirts and leggings.

Personality
Like her mother, Arisa is calculated and rational. She seems disinterested in most things around her or is simply bored, but it's more accurate to say that she takes her life and her role in Red Demons a bit too seriously. Weighed down by the expectations of her family from a young age, she's been indoctrinated in believing that her entire life's purpose is to rid the world of vampires. She practically blindly believes this, to the point that she has never considered another option for her future and holds extremely antagonistic views on vampires, despite having never encountered one before joining Red Demons. However, because her beliefs lack any real experience or encounters to back it up, they are easily shaken, which Arisa does not respond well to.

Though she is typically seen as more mature and stoic, Arisa shines the most when she's fighting. Most people are happiest when they are fulfilling some kind of purpose, doing what they enjoy doing, and the same applies for Arisa. On missions, Arisa is bright and motivated, and takes every effort to succeed.

Brief Backstory
Arisa was born as the first and only child of a former Red Demons member and a researcher under Yukimura Angelica. As the protégée of such high-caliber members of human society, a huge pressure had been placed on her shoulders to continue the legacy of her parents. Adults around her in childhood ceaselessly rambled on about what she should do and be, touting the accomplishments of her parents as the criteria to determine her worth. Arisa began to understand that if she wanted to be valuable to anyone, she had to be like her parents.

From a young age, Arisa began training with her father and education with her mother. It was clear from the start she had much more competence with physical ability than academic, and overtime made combat training her main priority. Her father would tell her stories of the depravity of vampire-kind and the callous atrocities they committed towards humans. The way Arisa viewed it, the morality of vampires and humans was black and white. Vampires were simply evil by nature, a stain that had to be cleansed.

Arisa's father eventually retired from his post after sustaining critical injuries on the field and could no longer fight. She still trained under his guidance and with some help from his colleagues. By the time she turned 16, applying to join the Army of Humanity was a no-brainer.

Equipment
Astraeus & Eos, a few throwing knives strapped to her thigh, a belt-bag with a basic first aid kit and a rose quartz crystal looped through with a string.

Skills
Close Combat Fighting: Trained with her father to fight
Bladed Weapons Proficiency: Knows how to swing a sword and fight with and throw knives

Crimson Arm
Astraeus & Eos
Astraeus and Eos are twin blades, named after the god and goddess of dusk and dawn. They are thin and long in appearance, and weigh relatively lightly despite seemingly being made of metal compounds. Astraeus takes on a darker obsidian hue, while Eos shines a bright silver. Arisa can telekinetically control these blades within a 10 meter radius and allow the blades to fly around her within this limit. Each blade can also be duplicated 3 times, creating 8 blades in total that Arisa could potentially control.

[User]
Himika

 She had been oddly silent here. Quite unlike her, if anyone knew the white haired girl standing near the front. Honestly, it was just so exciting she couldn't actually put it into words! Today was the day! She was getting her very own crimson arm and she could finally, finally, do what she wanted after all these years. Agh, what should she do? How should she act? She should probably act a little more dignified, right? She was after all, bearing humanities weight on her shoulders now, so she had to at least appear somewhat competent.

 "Wahaha, interesting?" Himika said in response to a comment made by some sleepy looking guy. "I guess, huh? I'm excited myself. I can't even think straight." Maybe she was being too optimistic, or looking at this with too much in the way of rose tinted vision, but she couldn't help it. Nothing could ruin this day, even if the path ahead of her was a difficult one. She made this decision, no sense in not liking what she was going to be doing. So she silenced herself, following along the corridor with everyone else present.

 Thankfully, she didn't have to wait long. Soon they had seemed to have reached their destination, a blond woman in a labcoat commenting on how cute they all were. Himika couldn't help but to giggle and blush at the compliment, even if it wasn't directed completely at her, but the commanders words quickly pulled her back to reality.

 "Right, right...okay...Himika you can do this..." She approached the containment unit that held her Crimson Arm. So much build up, so many mistakes, so many hours spent training and forgetting to even sleep some times. She was prepared, right? Totally prepared. Mentally and physically.

 So she opened it.

 She stared, for a few seconds. The black steel of the blade seemed smooth. Far too smooth. Almost made her think nothing could have made it. She inhaled, reaching her arms forwards and grabbed the hilt. For a moment, she was a bit disappointed at what felt like nothing happening as she lifted the blade.

 "Geh? That's hot...!" All at once a wave of nausea and lightheadedness washed over her, and she could have almost sworn the blades handle was going to burn her. It was almost too much, really, and she almost lost her footing. Still, she didn't release her grip on the blade. "...urgh..." She had come this far. She wasn't going to let this go, nor let her admittedly clumsiness ruin this. This was her blade. Her crimson arm. And she wasn't going to give up.

[Assistant]
Cute...? Could random strangers not call her cute, even as part of a group? It was all a bit... weird, really; she didn't want the attention in the slightest. It was a good thing that everyone was going to be distracted by the new toys; it meant her blush was going to go unnoticed. Especially with how fast Hanako shuffled over to the named containment unit, flipping the box open and...

Just a combat knife? Really, she had expected something... more? With how much this was being talked up. But a combat knife... oh, she could use a combat knife perfectly fine, and didn't hesitate in picking it up. T

The lack of hesitation was probably a bad idea, Hanako immediately decided. For one, the sudden feeling of sickness was overpowering. For another... was she imagining things, or were parts of her body just becoming see-through at random? Just what the hell was the function of this knife? One second her arm was there, the next it was just the floor, and she swore that it spread down to her stomach and that was... too weird...

But at least it was returning to normal. And she hadn't thrown up.

[User]
Koka

 Koka entered the room, glancing around, her smile fading was curiosity took over her. It returned though, briefly, as she smiled and waved at the blonde girl who had complimented the entire group. Koka was especially amused by Himika's reaction. The black-haired girl's heart fluttered in her chest as she was told it was time to fetch their Crimson Arms for the first time.

 "Oh-ho-man, here we go." She said. Koka rolled her shoulders, and bounced up and down. She watch as Himika and Hanako went first. Both of the mseemed to be affected by touching their blades. Affected them physically. But they seemed to get over it.

 "Guess it's me, next. Wish me luck, ladies."  She looked around at the group with a small but eager smile. The 'ladies' included the men of the group, as well.

 Flipping open the case labelled 'Minako' her eyes widened, and she audibly gasped.

 "It's...it's the most wicked assault rifle I've ever seen in my life." She said, her voice full of awe. She briefly covered her mouth and coughed, taken aback. Indeed, it was. All red and blue, a striking weapon that would stand out from any other. "I...I think I'm gonna cry." She said, playing it up with humor in her voice, wiping away an invisible tear.

 Gently, she wrapped her hand around the rear handle of the rifle. And immediately, the effects were obvious, Koka the most strongly affected so far. Those looking at her face could see her smile fade and her eyes roll up partially into her head for a brief moment. Koka lost her balance entirely. "Nnnuh~" She stumbled back. Her head was swimming.

 She caught herself on the nearest teammate, whoever it was.

 Once rebalanced, she let herself fall onto her butt, crossing her legs. The smile returned as she shook off the worst of the effects, regaining her composure. Her face blushed a little out of embarassment, but other than that she seemed to take it well. "W-wow. Helluva kick." Her headache and nausa began to fade. Squinting through the migraine she began to stroke the barrel of her gun, admiring it. "This is...this is a work of art." She chuckled in quiet amazement.

[Assistant]
Arisa could feel tension build as they made their way through the facility. The path to their destination seemed lengthy, but perhaps that was simply her anticipation influencing her perception of time. Time went on, and soon enough, the group of recruits followed the commander to a pair of doors that slid open in his presence.

The room was spacious, and Arisa took a few seconds to take in the new sights. There was an observation deck on the upper section of the back wall. The perimeter of the room was lined with chambers in intervals, and intercom speakers lined the ceiling. As soon as they stepped in, a female voice sounded through them. Heavily contrasted to the group's stoic mood, the voice was cheerful and upbeat. Arisa thought her remark about how cute everyone looked was probably accurate; they were all young and not yet as strong as the typical Red Demons member.

Arisa listened attentively as the commander gave out his next instructions. Her eyes darted to the containment unit with her name. She was not worried about any side effect or ill symptom—she had strong conviction that it would be but a minor inconvenience. Her heart began to race as she stepped towards her Crimson Arm. With a careful movement, Arisa opened its container.

Two blades glistened in the box—one an obsidian hue, the other a bright silver, though both shone and reflected the harsh overhead lighting radiantly. They were long and thin, appearing as if their form was crafted to fit Arisa's stature. She moved with caution, and slowly gripped the handles of both swords with her hands and lifted them out of the box. In an instant, a surge of heat blasted through her body, scorching all her senses with fire. Arisa hunched over in pain, but she bit her tongue and held back a scream of anguish and tightened her grip on the blades. In mere seconds, though it felt much longer, the pain ceased, and Arisa's senses calmed.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Her first challenge as a Red Demons recruit had been won. Her eyes lingered adoringly on her twin swords, and an uncharacteristic smile spread on her lips.

After a long personal moment with her weapon, Arisa began to look around her. The other recruits seem to be in similar positions, admiring their Crimson Arms as much as Arisa had. She looked towards the commander with an eager glint in her eye, though she kept her expression neutral. "Commander, will we be testing out our Arms today?"


[System]
---

---

The King's Council:
An old Formori man, thin and wiry, with closely cropped iron grey hair. His face is clean shaven, with a sharp chin and is set with narrow eyes the colour of dark bronze. He has a rasping voice that he frequently has to cough to clear and moves slowly and carefully, with very deliberate actions. Despite his age, the old soldier clearly still has a quick and agile mind.

Manawyndan is the King's right hand man and is perhaps the second most powerful man in Morganyth after the King himself. He is Ozragad's most trusted adviser in matters both military and political. He holds several important offices of power, being the most senior general of Ozragad's army, the King's designated regent, and unofficially his spymaster as well. What's even more surprising is that Manawyndan elevated himself to this position through merit rather than birth, he is not a member of the nobility in his own right. A talented soldier, Ozragad's mother raised him to a commander of her army and placed him on her war councils, and under Ozragad's reign his influence steadily grew to the position he occupies today.

He is close to the King and well liked by the common soldiers for his kindly though firm demeanour. However, the Lord Steward has those who envy him his position, especially amongst some of the nobility. He also has enemies amongst younger officers in the army and the strongly pro-war factions in the realm, who dislike his more cautious strategy and his role in formulating the recent cease to hostilities.
An old Formori woman, of a similar to age to Manawyndan, and another veteran of Ozragad's mother's councils. Small, stooped, and arthritic, do not let Lady Arwan's frailness deceive you into thinking her senile or meek. The Lady Treasurer is widely regarded as having the sharpest tongue in all the palace. She does not suffer fools in the slightest.

Lady Arwan is the descendant of a noble family from Iron Town to the north who are heavily involved in the foundries located there. She is very wealthy woman in her own right and her family's fortune only grew under her stewardship. Her main responsibility is the management the crown's finances, a task she has excelled at for centuries.
Lord Urathon is a Formori man of middling years. He had black hair pulled from his face in a rather severe ponytail, a neatly trimmed goatee and a long pointed nose. He has a serious look about him and carries himself with a quiet sort of dignity. This facade cracks somewhat whenever he is accompanied in public by his younger wife, whom he dotes upon.

Lord Urathon is lord in his own right, ruling lands along the Bleak Coast. In his role as Lord Justicar he is the highest official of the Morganythian legal system, responsible for its courts, as well as the drafting, implementation and enforcement of its laws.
The youngest member of the council, Lord Chancellor Iria is a young-ish looking plump man with dark brown hair that is elaborately curled and coifed. He dresses extremely ostentatiously with a fondness for extensive purple silks and heavy gold jewellery. He stands out at any social gathering as the person most likely either be laughing or making others laugh at any given moment and seeming always having a good time. He is a notable bachelor who has been involved in a number of minor, though amusing, scandals and is one of the principal source of court gossip.

Iria is the scion of a minor noble house from the capital itself, though he is yet inherit his lordship. As Lord Chancellor, he is responsible for Morganyth's diplomacy and maintain diplomatic relations. The functions of the office have withered somewhat over the years of the war with Eorzia, and Chancellor Iria mainly finds himself in charge of entertaining the occasional ambassador or diplomat. However, with peace on the horizon, this may be about to change.

The House of Ergyng:
Tall and possessing a voluptuous hourglass figure, Lady Chelarine is striking even for a Formori approaching her middle years. She has curls of auburn red hair that are artfully arranged into plaits and braids so as to frame her attractive heart shaped face. She dresses tastefully and fashionably in oranges and greens, with amber jewellery that matches the colour of her eyes. She has a soft, smooth voice, and husky laugh.

Lady Cheldarine is the King's closest living relative, first cousin, though on his father's side rather than his mother's and hence she is not directly in line for the throne in the event of Ozragad's death. Nonetheless, she is the matriarch of the powerful House of Ergyng and controls a large swath of good grazing land to the north along the Kazadun river. She is a widower, her husband dying in battle some twenty years prior when her youngest of her two children was only an infant.
Lady Cheldarine's eldest son and heir, Elethiomel is a handsome youth just entering Formori manhood with long straight red hair. He seems polite and well mannered.
Lady Cheldarine's younger son, Peibio serves as the royal cupbearer to King Ozragad. Diligent though perhaps easily embarrassed, he too bears the red hair of the Ergyng, though he wears his much shorter.

Nobility of the Realm:
A plain looking older woman with grey streaked hair, she eats little and dresses soberly. Wife of Lord Belaphon, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh.
A fat older man who nevertheless seems to have the bearing of a soldier, though he no older serves as one. He wears an eye patch over one eye and is grey hair is thinning though he does sport a luxurious moustache. Somewhat loud and verbose in his speech. Husband of Lady Blodwen, they are both powerful land owners from Greymarsh.
A powerful Ashlander noble who seems hostile to the peace and is currently snubbing Ozragad's invitation to court. His sister was Queen Liveuta, Ozragad's first wife. He was once a friend and supporter of Ozragad, but turned against him once Ozragad began considering peace.

The Princess's Household
A respectful older Formori woman with a seemingly kind disposition.
A young Formori woman.
A young Formori woman.

Courtiers, Soldiers, and Servants:
A young Formori woman with a shaved head and a somewhat brash attitude. She is fanatically loyal to Ozragad, but is also a notable pro-war voice on his war councils. There is some degree of hostility between her an Manawyndan.
An old solider of a squat and stout nature. He has limping gait from an old leg wound that left him partially crippled, the leg is secured with a brace.
Overseer of domestic arrangements within the Palace. Nervous and eager to please his superiors, he is dismissive and contemptuous to those he considers beneath him. Has a high pitched laugh and is bald headed.

Other:
Ozragad's first Queen from before the war. She was Zakylwe Ahoraa's sister. Ozragad has forbidden her name from being spoken in his presence.

[User]
Lady Cheldarine followed her host to the cushioned divans that were tastefully arranged around the hearth of the Princess's receiving room in the Silver Tower. She waited for Elise to take a seat before she herself settled down opposite her on the other side of fireplace, neatly gathering her skirts as she did so. The Formori woman listened to the Princess's response with her head cocked to the side. A ghost of smile played across her lips.

"Well it certainly seems to have caused yourself some trouble, your Highness. I know my cousin is not an easy man to get along with, he is as you said, stubborn. Perhaps if you told me what happened exactly I could be some assistance in repairing this rift between you? After all, I do know him better than most."

At that moment there was a flicker of an idea in the eyes of Lady Cheldarine. She turned to the Formori serving woman who had been discretely attending them from the back of the room and smiled wide at her.

"I am however, somewhat parched this morning. Such a long way up to the palace, and so many stairs! Seems silly considering its all still underground, doesn't it? You wouldn't be dear and fetch us some tea would you?"

The servant glanced over to Princess Elise as if searching for a counterorder, before bobbing her head obediently and disappearing out of the room. When they were alone Lady Cheldarine turned back to the Princess, holding one finger up.

"A moment please."

She stood and briskly walked over the door, placing her ear flat against it and listening for a few moments before seeming being satisfied by what she did or did not hear. She then walked over to one of the internal walls of the tower, lined with dark wooden panelling. With one finger she tapped on each of panels, listening as she did so. At the fifth panel she stopped and listened longer more intently than she had at the others, lingering for half a minute. Eventually she was again satisfied by what she heard, it was only then that the Lady turned back to the Princess and returned to her seat by the fire.

"Well that makes me feel better, it appears Manawyndan is not currently up to his old tricks. Walls do have ears in this palace I'm afraid. Still, no unwanted eavesdroppers at the moment." She let out her soft husky laugh. "Now tell me, why has my cousin locked you up in here?"

[Assistant]
Folding her arms as she settled herself amidst the cushioned divans, she watched the auburn-haired woman follow suit and she found herself frowning slightly as she knew she had caused herself quite some trouble over her actions. Raising her eyebrows at the idea of telling Lady Cheldarine what had happened to help ease the rift that had been created was not something she had expected. If she was honest, she had thought that maybe she had arrived here to tell her the wedding was off and she was now to be a prisoner, but it was quite the opposite. "There isn't really much to tell…"

Elise trailed off as she looked towards her servant nodding to approve the request, after all some tea would be good as she knew the drink would warm her up finding herself rather cold as of late. "What are you doing?" Tilting her head as she watched the other stand moving to the door to listen for something, it was quite strange but when she returned to her seat and explained she felt rather silly not assuming that. "Oh right, of course. Though I doubt they'd bother eavesdropping when all my ladies are loyal to your King. I'm sure they have great pleasure relaying to him of my sleepless nights and irritable mood."

Sighing as she shook her head it seemed that she was not about to stop at finding out what had happened, she doubted she would leave without knowing that information. "I…" Hesitating as she cringed a little before continuing, "May have had a few choice words to him when he stumbled across me in one of the libraries."

Self consciously her hand went to her throat touching the skin there as she remembered what had happened, "He said something that got under my skin and I retaliated spitefully saying who could love him all whilst ending it with a bold claim of how I would never marry him." Not really going into too much detail but enough to get an understanding on what had happened between them.

"So, until I reconsider my choices I am to be locked away in my rooms."

Shifting in her seat as she glanced towards the door, she pulled the shawl closer around her shoulders seeking the warmth the material provided. "I don't think you can fix this, for this to be fixed I would need to apologise and revoke my words that I said to him." Elise knew that she probably wouldn't sound sincere enough to consider it an apology, not when she when she was still angry with him.


[System]
"Calm down, it's not the end of the world. Unless it is. Either way, I'm here, so you can stop your whining now."
Magical Girl Costume:

Powers: Ramona is a master of the forge- fire, steel, smoke, and sharp edges. Her power usually manifests as flaming metal blades or guns that rain molten bullets on her foe. Subtle, Ramona is not.

Dragonscale Armor
Ramona is really, really hard to hurt in her transformed state- even exposed skin is hard as steel. She's also basically fireproof.

Battle-Forged Wings
You know what wings have always needed? Jet thrusters. Ramona grows dragon wings made of flaming metal. She can also channel fire magic through them to give herself a speed boost.

Demigod of Fire and Steel
Ramona bears the mantle of Ignis' divinity. She possesses good health and longevity, even as a mere human. In addition, the gift of the King in Red gives Ramona the knowledge to forge marvelous weapons, and then call them to her side whenever the need arises. Where else did you think all those swords came from? Magic? Ha.

Veins of the Earth
Ramona can sense metal. Particularly precious ones, or ones good for making stuff out of them. Thus, she's never in short supply of... well, supplies.

Howling Blades
Ramona's bread and butter; a mandala of eight molten swords manifests around her, controlled by her will. She can either use them at medium-range to slashy-stabby something, or go straight-up "Gate of Babylon" on someone and fire them as projectiles.

Roaring Dragon Fang
For when the situation calls for "up close and personal." Big effing greatsword made of molten metal. Its use is obvious- crush the foe.

Hell Dragon's Flight
Like Howling Blades, but with guns! Eight rifles that spit molten bullets manifest. Bring on the dakka, with added fire.

Wrath of the King in Red
Ramona's magnum opus: A claymore the size of an apartment building, hurled pointy-end-first at the unfortunate bastard that just pissed Ramona off this much. Get hit with this, and you're not walking away- scraped off the pavement by a street sweeper is more like it. Unfortunately, it also leaves Ramona basically bereft of magical power for a while after using it, so she better make it count.

Source: The Mark of the King in Red- A stylized dragon "tattoo" made of iridescent red metal on her left collarbone. Must be activated with the incantation, "Here standeth the Champion of Fire and Steel! IGNITE!!"

History with Justice Heart:
Ramona ran away from home at the age of 14, due to, "strong differences of opinion." A few months in, she was desperate, still living on the streets, when a man by the name of Cato found her. Apparently a traveler from another world, the man offered her a "Gift," in order to give his Lord a presence in their new world. Not having anything better to do, and hoping this "Gift" could lead to a hot meal, Ramona accepted, and was marked by Ignis, god of the forge in the world he once called home. Ramona became Pyrrha of the Forge, the most fucking metal magical girl of all time. Soon after this, she met Justice Heart.

Their relationship was... rocky, at first. Ramona's obsession with comic books and shounen manga meant that her magical girl antics came with a severe lack of restraint- because superheroes never have to worry about things like collateral damage, do they? In short, accidentally exploding potential allies tends to alienate them. As the gravity of some of her actions began to reach her, and her desperation to belong to the group increased, Ramona was forced to learn the greatest and most difficult of lessons: restraint. Not by much, but she wasn't knocking down buildings left and right anymore. Little by little, she got to be friends with Justice Heart, and eventually allies, culminating in helping her new family banish the Dollmaster into oblivion. Ramona had finally achieved her dream: to be an awesome protagonist, a hero!

History after Justice Heart:
...And then some idiot just had to get knocked up.

As this incident, among others, began to chip away at their group dynamic, Ramona was forced to watch as her new family slowly began to tear itself apart. While she tried to stay in contact with her friends, eventually the pain of watching the group destroy itself got to be too painful, and she struck out on her own. It wasn't easy at first- her marketable skills were all better suited to a life in the Middle Ages, and selling too much gold had a tendency to draw uncomfortable questions from certain authorities. But she managed to find her niche when she discovered that certain nerds were willing to pay a lot of money for some fancy sword from their favorite book or show or whatever.

Nowadays, Ramona is in high demand among fantasy circles, who commission her to smith (supposedly) decorative weapons for them. Heck, she even found love. Twice, in fact. Her girlfriends, Katja and Izzy, help her make her fancy nerd stuff, and keep her grounded when she's being particularly manic. Unbeknownst to anyone else, however, Ramona occasionally still moonlights as Pyrrha, hunting down the occasional monster or bank robber or whatever. But above all else, she longs for the glory days of her youth, when she and the rest of Justice Heart were in their prime...

...She never did like the name "Justice Vermillion," though.

Relationships:
Katja Volk and Isabel "Izzy" Santorini-
"My girlfriends. Yes, girlfriends, plural. Calm your titties. Katja's some kinda Amazon, and Izzy is a punk rock kinda chick with bitchin' blue hair. They help me with my commissions from time to time, but they're mostly the ones who keep me sane."
Cato-
"The guy who gave me Ignis' mark. Some kinda priest in their old world. He's utterly forgettable in his human guise, very Clark Kent. Aside from the glowing eyes, anyway. Haven't seen him since the Big Guy went missing. Wish I knew where he was."
The King in Red, Master of Fire and Steel, Lord Ignis-
"The Boss. He marked me with his Gift, gave me powers, turned me into the literal spitfire that I am now. Apparently he used to be a god in his old world, or something. His true form is some kinda robot dragon or something. I haven't heard his voice in years; not since we put Dollmaster Katherine into a bottomless hole in the universe. But I know he's out there somewhere."
Justice Heart-
"Haven't seen most of the others in years. I catch Isana and Elise around sometimes, especially Isana, when I go out, ah... moonlighting. We still have our little thing going on from the old days. Even though it's obvious that I'm still the strongest member of Justice Heart. I mean, my swords can explode. Can theirs do that? I didn't think so. Check and mate~"

[User]
Carrie walked up to Vivian. The other girl seemed to be alone, which just wasn't right. Not to mention, it was damned dangerous. Sure, she'd never been the most liked member of Justice Heart, what with the villainy and all, but right now, they needed all the help they could get.

"Hey, Viv. I- I think we should work together on this one. Cover each other's backs and whatnot. I recall that was one time we were attacked over by the docks." She left out the fact that it was Vivian who attacked them there with a monster, and it was there Justice Heart turned her good. "If this is Dollmaster- and I will admit to being skeptical on that point yet- it seems she's going back to her old tricks. Maybe there's something left at the location that we can pick up. You know her better than any of us, so you know what to look for."

[Assistant]
Alice Augustine
Exploring the Past

---

During their car ride, Alice spent a lot of time trying to lean on Isana lovingly though the other woman didn't seem all for it. It didn't matter much though, she loved everything about Isana after all. She was still being quite a bit obnoxious while sending a text to Vivian. Sorry about that, I'm sure you were looking forward to dinner too. I'll take you out sometime later! And maybe a bit more if you're interested too~~~ Hehehe." With that, she sent the text and tried cuddling to Isana.

"It disgusts me still how forward you are." Keri said, peaking back at her charge. It was obvious to Alice the woman was just trying to rile her a little.

"Come on Keri, you love me as I am." Alice said with a smile, looking towards the driver.

"Are you sure you're not on any drugs?"

"I am not! Never ever!"

It was about that time they arrived at the abandoned theatre. "Sure, sure. Now here's where you wanted to go. Why did you want to come here of all places?" Keri said as she pressed a button and opened the doors for Alice and Isana to get out.

"Old memories!"

"And I instantly don't wish to know any more. Get out, please. I've TV to catch up on." In the front of the car is a small monitor which flicked on to a show about a detective recounting his past investigations.

As the two exited the car, Alice looked back at Keri and mouthed, "We'll have some fun later, ok?" Keri's reaction was to turn the sound up in the car speakers. With a giggle, Alice turned back to Isana that said she doesn't want to spend too long in there. "You don't want to spend a long time with me in the dark? Geez, aim at a maiden's heart why don't you?" Alice giggled as she lead the way up to the theatre. "This will be interesting at least." She entered first.

[User]
Vivian Everett

Waiting to leave, Vivian came to a stop as she found herself approached after all. Seemed someone did want to take pity on her after all,or at least it looked like it might be that way. She shot Carrie an unamused glance at the mention of the dock attack before reiterating the plan that she had initially espoused. "If it is the Dollmaster, she wouldn't care about that spot in particular," she explained. "I'm going to go check out one of her old hideouts, see if anyone's been in there recently. Even if it isn't her, someone could be using her leftovers."

Personally she thought that she could handle it herself, but as long as Carrie wasn't expressing some deep seated desire to not be involved in this whole thing then she supposed that she could live with it. A second set of eyes to catch things she might have missed would be useful.

It was at that point that something else presented itself to her, causing her to cast her gaze to her default companion yet again. "I only have the one motorbike," she added. She couldn't remember if Carrie had drove here on her own, but this might be tricky if she needed to give her a ride too.

[Assistant]
Fiona definitely appreciated Emily's compliment--she did have a point. Well, they had all been changed, for better of for worse, and Fiona only hoped that she was right. Perhaps once they got to the bottom of...whatever was happening, maybe Fiona would do her part for the team. How ironic, considering she wanted nothing to do with any of these shenanigans. Shenanigans, and yet she was roped into fighting for 'the greater good'. How good could it be if it continued to disrupt her life? Would she ever know what normal was? She had managed to fight fine, all things considered, though she was only so active because chasing around her kids took a lot out of her. That and she was unemployed; taking care of her kids only took so much time, and she had to keep herself fit for her husband! But she never imagined staying fit for this.

"I'm glad," She replied when she would mention her own daughter. She must be so big by now. When it came to the topic of cars, however, her face flushed red. "I-I can...considering I may have totaled my own..." Oh man, she still hadn't called the insurance or let Aster know. Geez, how could she be so irresponsible? "Lead the way."


[System]
Age: 4 years younger than her companion.
Type: Gambler. Trickster. Pickpocketer.
Equipment:
-open fingered gloves
-belt with a dagger and pouch hung on it
-Her awesome fists
-handy dandy multi-purpose satchel, containing: Tiny smoke bombs, a roll of lock picks, dried meat, cooking spices, a flask of ginger ale, a smoking pipe along with some mysterious herbs wrapped in brown paper, a map.

[User]
Kayleigh was getting bored. For the whole evening, she had been gambling with a group of male strangers - seduced into inviting her into their games by her charm and extravagant act of feministic qualities. She didn't even know their names, and never bothered to ask. And for the entire evening, Kayleigh had been losing more often that she had won. But no matter!

"What yours is mine, right?" She remarked casually to her temporary companions, seemingly out of the blue. Kayleigh batted her eyelashes and smiled sweetly. Eventually, she added in her mind.

"Anything you say babe," they answered unanimously, dazzled by her flirtatious acts and beauty. They had failed to consider the malicious intent behind those casual words, and promptly resumed the game.

Time was ticking. A quick glance to the darkest corner of the tavern acquainted her sight with Jackson, her stealthy companion. She gave him a wink.

Then, the door to the tavern was unceremoniously thrust open.

"I DEMAND THE SURRENDER OF ALL OF YOUR FINEST ALE," a voice boomed across, reaching far into the depths of the tavern. Before silence could descend upon the place, there was a clatter of both light and heavy footsteps and a dozen or more men emerged from the gloom of the night outside to join their master. Kayleigh had caught sight of the almost imperceptible shift in posture of her fellow partner-in-crime, and confirmed the identity of the coarse, unpolished newcomer.

"The rest of you," the man snarled, meeting each fearful gaze with a cold, bloody stare. "Get out."

The desired effect was instantaneous. People scrambled to their feet and shot straight for the double doors of the tavern. When the pandemonium subsided, only Kayleigh and Jackson were left. Both stared nonchalantly at the man and his lackeys, while Kayleigh repeatedly tossed a bag of coins up into the air. Her other hand slipped four more into her satchel.

[Assistant]
Jackson kept leaning back, taking another sip from his drink, as the men began spreading out and leering at his companion. The closest one was still a table or two away from her when he decided to speak up, hidden in the shadow to the casual glance.

"I'd best advise you be stoppin' right there, mate. Wouldn't want to lose a finger, see, and then your arm, and then your head. She's a feisty one, and she'll probably kill you all in about three times the time it would take me to do so... so let's go with about, oh, fifteen seconds?"

The captain turned towards him, opening his foul, rotten mouth to begin speaking, before being interrupted.

"What was that, cap'n crunch? Didn't hear what you said there."

He got angry, and was about the shout when he interrupted again.

"What?"
A smirk followed.

"What was that you said?"
Jackson was enjoying yourself.

"GET-"
"What was that you was sayin'?"
He just looked about fit to burst.

"Alright cap'n crunch, sit right on down and have a drink on me."
This time, he made no move to stop him as the pirate screamed, "I'LL NOT BE HAVING ANY MORE OF THIS! GET 'EM!"

The first man to rush towards him collapsed soundlessly, the beginning of his warcry dying as fast as his heart, a knife protruding from his chest. And yet, Jackson had barely moved his arm, though he now set his mug down, and stood up. The other pirates all stopped, barely even starting, and Jackson smiled warmly at each one of them, scaring the shit out of them with just his eyes.

"I like to think myself a doctor for hire. I take out the rot in the society, see. Now you all rot, or you all civilized men who deal like 'em?"

[User]
"You show em!" Kayleigh gave a loud whoop, all her pretended dainty, feministic mannerisms vanishing in that mere instant. She stood up and stomped her way towards the Captain, who towered over her. His men, upon seeing her advancements moved in to intercept the woman, but a malicious, threatening glare from the friendly assassin halted them in their tracks.

Kayleigh stared him down (or up), looking at him squarely in the eye. "Whatcha gonna say to surrendering all your treasure before Mr. Badass here-" she motioned gruffly towards Jackson "-detaches your head from the rest of you?"

"It's not like you're gonna bring all that cash to meet your great-granny anyways," she added, finding it a perfectly logical statement, so she was genuinely confused when the Captain rejected her request by bellowing in her face.

"KILL THEM!" He screamed, his voice bordering between shrieking cats procreating and the worst opera singer in the universe.

"Okay, whatever," she grumbled. "SMOKE BOMBS AWAY!" Kayleigh yelled gleefully.

With a deft movement of her hand, there was a faint thud as multiple rounded objects hit the floor, before throwing out puffs of smoke that expanded and billowed. Visibility was now close to zero.

Out of the chaos, a sharp whistle could be heard, the signal for the assassin to strike.

[Assistant]
He stood up wearily, as if he really didn't want to but he had to, and called out, "All right everyone, kill me and she'll scram." He stood still as the half dozen men came charging through the smoke, roaring in rage and confusion. One of them accidentally ran his friend through; another crashed into him, knocking them to the floor.

Two more were nearly on him before Jackson moved, and when he moves, he moves. Both his hands were filled with his axes in a heartbeat, and he was spinning out of the way, the axe heads biting through the first man's side as he used him as a wall. By the time he had fully put him between his friend, his side was cut up and his arm was a bloody mess. He collapsed, and his bud took his place- a single swing took his throat, and he fell to the ground on top his fellow.

The assassin dealt with the others in a similar fashion, leaving the captain alive and unharmed, standing in the smoke cloud, roaring with anger and hate. He taunted him, all the while.

"Where's your henchmen, mate?"

"Did your guards decide to take a nap?"

"Are you playin' hide'n'seek or somethin'? Why wasn't I invited?"

[User]
"Ow!" Kayleigh complained as one of the bumbling buffoons stumbled into his crewmate, then into her, before rushing forward in the direction of her companion. And while Seth was busy ridding themselves of the garbage swamping the tavern, Kayleigh simply stood with a hand on her hip. For the most part, smoke bombs were good and all, but she couldn't see. Jackson on the other hand, could rely on his exceptional sight and hearing to kick ass.

Before the smoke had even begun to dissipate, the Captain quickly caught on to the current state of affairs. The gradual, descending silence that marked the air along with the dying cries of his crew were an obvious indicator of what was happening while he stood, rooted to the spot in the midst of the smoke-engulfed tavern. Subsequently, with a fearful cry, he attempted to make a rush for the exit, boots stomping heavily on the wooden boards. I'M HERE, COME GET ME, they practically yelled.

What an idiot, Kayleigh sighed. Following her ears, she pursued him.

When she emerged out into the open and cool night sky, Kayleigh was greeted with a crowd of men who had, she suspected, surrounded the entrance of the tavern long ago, having anticipated the events following the entry of the Captain of the ship. Except… it seemed that there were now two Captains.

Confused, Kayleigh rubbed her eyes, and blinked once. She blinked twice.

Her next thought was: Balls.

"I suppose good ol' Benedict deserves a reward for spilling the beans about you two brats," the real captain laughed. Beside him, the man whom they had originally thought was the captain of the ship removed his disguise, revealing a simple person underneath who hosted one too many features akin to the individual he had just attempted to impersonate.

"Fire," he smiled gleefully.

A net was thrown over her, sprung from the nozzle of an elongated hand-held mechanism, and in a split second she was unceremoniously and roughly dragged into the herd.

[Assistant]
Hell, they were so stupid. He would've called after the girl if he thought she would listen so instead he made to follow her. Had he not been making sure the mens' throats were slit, he'd have been caught in the same trap as his companion. As it was, his blood boiled under the thought of them taking his companion- like hell they were going to take his punching bag.

He was standing in the doorway, more or less, but they didn't notice. He had a feature that let gazes slide over him if they weren't particularly looking, combined with his clothes and the already dim tavern, plus their attention focused elsewhere, he might as well have been invisible.

It was the same invisible demon that strode out of the doors, not really bothering to hide his approach, as the herd of a dozen or so turned towards him, already prepping another net-bow thing.

Except this time, when the man opened his mouth to say "Fire!" a knife persuaded him otherwise. A knife that had gone straight through his open mouth and lodged in the back of his throat. All the others started in shock, and the launcher man fired anyways, panicking. He was the next dead, and his net sailed over empty air as the assassin dropped to the ground and rolled to the side. He was met by three men, rushing over to take advantage of him being down- except it wasn't a weakness for him.

A three-second-long whirlwind later, all three men were down with their legs torn to bits, and both of Jackson's axes held in both hands, a murderous glint in his eyes.

And the pirates, foolish as they were, thought they had the upper hand because of numbers, despite facing a man who had faced armed, armored guards and had the advantage of night over him. He disappeared into the shadows, leaving the men to rush forward to try to catch him anyways, and swing back around to quietly cut open his companions net and give her a rare smile, if a little bloodthirsty.

[User]
A series of incomprehensible grumbles and mutters escaped Kayleigh's throat.

"I had it all under control," she lied through her teeth, as Jackson nimbly severed the bounds which had only a few seconds ago strictly confined her movements. Naturally, she was butt hurt that her capable self had to be ashamedly rescued. Oh, the embarrassment.

It took a while for the pirates to realize that their temporary captive had escaped, but when they finally did, Kayleigh and Jackson already had their feet planted firmly behind their Captain. Glinting eerily in the moonlight, the woman's dagger rested snugly on the grooves of his rugged throat.

In one smooth, merciless motion of her hand, the poor brute's throat was slit open.

"Do I get three-thirds of the bounty this time?" She prodded the assassin. "I think it's only fair," she pouted, giving her companion a hopeful glance.

[Assistant]
Jackson smirked in response, saying, "You get one thirds of the bounty for getting captured- even though that's the same amount you always get paid. Besides, I know you're going to take all these guys' coinpurses when I'm done with them."

This was met with a grumbling among the remaining mercenaries and pirates, and they decided, once again, to attack. Fortunately, they were standing some distance away, at this point, and Jackson had enough remaining throwables to throw.

Half of them were dead by the time they reached him, four knives sticking out of their heads or chests, piercing measly, cheap leather armor. The rest turned and ran instead of facing the deadly man. How the hell could he fight so well, they would think.

Unfortunately for them, or for anyone, Kayleigh included, no one knew where Jackson learned how to fight- only he did, and he had yet to reveal.


[System]
Species : Elf
Gender : Female
Age : 54
Height : 175

Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original.

Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances.

So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card.

Traits and spells:

-Blood Phobia (passive)
Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated.
-Curse of the crimson flame (passive)
Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage.

-Arrow Enchantment.
Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors:
A. Crystal Arrows.
Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation.
B. Crystal Arrows
Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said.

-Counter
Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution.

-Ultravision
Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness.

-Vengeance
At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked:
C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown.

Equipment
-Lurea
A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds.
-Maugrim
A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade.
-Medium-sized satchel bag
A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind.
-Pocket watch
A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly.
-Medikit
Generic first aid kit.

[User]
Much to Kaito's surprise, Veronica seemed to share his opinion about the potential of this whole situation being a trap and that it was safer to move in full force. However the point about what if the prince isn't there is still valid. If they moved to one location and their target happened to be in the other that would be a drag. Their captors might relocate him and finding a lead again would take a considerable amount of time and time was the thing they were rather short on due to all the happenings in the capital.

The fox smiled. The presented dilemma was certainly entertaining. For him it was like a puzzle that was begging to be solved. "Maybe we should take a few minutes to think this through. Have any of you ever wondered what the enemies' end game is? Like what they truly are trying to achieve? They tried to kill the king, right? But they only kidnapped his son? If you want to seize the throne, why let the prince live? As long as he's around, he will always have a stronger claim than whomever wants to sit on Fredrik's chair. It makes little sense to me to try to kill the king but keep his boy alive."

Kaito paused a bit before he continued to speak. " Anyway, what I am trying to say is that if they have kept the prince alive till this point, he represents more value alive to our enemies then dead. It does not seem logical to kill him if we moved to the wrong place. I think they will either stay put where they are or relocate if that were to happen. Someone could keep an eye on Fangorn while the rest move to Pesti or the other way around. If they move out, we spot them and can trail them to their next hideout."

For a moment the kitsune thought deeply about the situation. Killing the father while kidnapping the son was a strange sequence of doing things. He could totally imagine that someone would kidnap the prince to gain leverage over the king but well, that required the king to be alive so in such a scenario the assasination attempt on the king made little sense. If they would try to take the throne, keeping a competitor alive seemed like a bad choice. Unless that competitor was actually running out of patience waiting for his father to kick the bucket. Could it be that the prince was involved in a different role than just a helpless victim? In Kaito's mind that was certainly plausible but he decided not to share this string of thoughts with the rest of the group. Some of them seemed to be fiercely loyal to the king and would probably not like such insinuations.

Noticing how Jazdia had activated her eyes, Kaito quickly looked around just to see if the elf was looking at something specific. However that did not seem to be the case. The fox just guessed that it was a sign that he should shut up. "I'll shut up now and let you ladies decide our course of action."

[Assistant]
[NPC Post]

"I care not about your rescue, mister bear." Reinhold pointed out the reminder, that his purpose here wasn't the same as the rest of them even if the two goals were reasonably aligned. "There are men I want dead in that place, whether your group decide to attack it or not. I'll go myself if I have to."

Probability of success? Zero, basically. Maybe he can take down a couple with a well-prepared ambush and traps, but there's no way a lone hunter like Reinhold can fulfil his revenge without aid. But he will make the attempt anyway - results be damned. A man got to have principles, aye?

[User]
[NPC Post]

"As you've said before, I have no direct command over you." Matilda glared at the elf without hiding her annoyance, momentarily considering how satisfying it would be to throttle that reedy neck. But calm down, calm down. The enemies were close. No need to take it out on an ally, no matter how belligerent. The orc took the communication device, steely gaze never leaving Jazdia's figure. "Fine. Splitting the force it is. Solomon, start sending your shadows now. I want eyes on both villages. Veronica, I need report on both place's potential hostile, now."

Independent contractors, bah. If given the choice, Matilda would've just took a regiment of the army and be done with it.

[Assistant]
Twenty years in the organization and Jazdia perfectly knew how exactly she sounded like. Not every people find her leadership style... convenient, and she knew it often stems from her ability to see what most people could not. She had tried to tone it down many times, obviously, but now due to her being pulled out of retirement, she forgot some of her settings. But hey, Matilda always had the option to decline her plan and devise her own. If it was sensible enough, of course.

As if anything she ever planned was sensible enough...

"Why do we need Solomon's shadow in both villages again? You are going to Pesti, will you not? And I will proceed to Fanghorn. I don't think you will need summoned entities. One because once discovered, it shows hostility from your side, and two, what purpose does it serve? Communication? You already have one."

Jazdia shrugged. "But, hey, don't let me stop you. You are the boss, right?"

A plus-one if fighting broke out? Could work, but she doubted it would be anything Matidal couldn't handle. Besides, the head was always a precious commodity, and whoever dares to lay finger on Fred's myrmidon was either a madman or someone who could live without a head, or four other limbs.

But a madman though...

"Well, you picked the commpass..." said Jazdia, smiling rather gleefully. Who cares if the orc Paladin looked very irritated by her brazenness? She decided to roll with her plan anyway. "Try to give each other sitreps whenever possible, okay? If you think the place is an obvious trap you lots couldn't handle, please inform me immediately. I will need Mister Solomon to go with me. Of course, if he doesn't mind. If anyone else wants to tag along with me, you should consult Matilda first."

[User]
Solomon Sparrow
Location: River Crossing, Kindeance

---

 With a plan reaching finalization, Solomon went ahead with summoning his shadows. Cedar might recognize some of the motion and energy, as it was very similar to when he animated Birk back at the watery tower ruins. Despite the silver in the energy, there was no light. Solomon held out a hand and began to mutter under his breath. His sleeves shifted off his arms revealing the bareness and age of his skin. His fingers were partially held out, his palm swirling energy and particles of blackness. The energy he cast emanated from the large tome strapped to his back, and circled around his torso down his outstretched arm. Then suddenly the power went straight into the ground.

 "I call upon thee, shadows. Heed my command and come forth." said Solomon softly, barely over a whisper. From the ground a pool of black nothingness began to form, absorbing the little light that was cast upon it. Slowly at first, then faster as they began to emerge, vague shapes of humanoid entities rose out of the pool. Like silhouettes, no details could be made from them save for their profile. Some appeared to be male, female, short, tall, but things such as age or species remained impossible to tell. About ten of them stood on the ground, soundlessly, and perfectly still. The energy faded, and what remained were the shadows and Solomon.

 "You need not worry about their discovery. I guarantee they will not. Much like their name, shadows cannot produce sound, nor can they interfere with man. They can hide in any crevice that houses darkness and any space shaded from the light." said Solomon. He turned his head slightly so that he appeared to be facing Jazdia though the shadows of his hood concealed his face. He let down his arm, the sleeves of his overcoat sliding back down to conceal his arms. Solomon whispered silent words. Those close enough could hear his breath exhale, but would not understand what he said. The shadows immediately reacted, collapsing into the ground. They resembled actual shadows of people standing in the light, though no figure existed to cast them. With speed superior to that of their horses, the shadows moved towards either village, gliding across the ground. In mere seconds, they were out of sight.

 "They will monitor the villages where we cannot. Should something of trouble arise, they will approach you as subtlety as they can. Of course, they will not reveal themselves to anyone not present here. They will keep a close eye on either manor for the prince should they attempt to smuggle him. They know as much as I, so I trust their discretion. Though they cannot speak, I understand them. For anyone else, treat their appearance as a warning."

 "As for the plan at hand, if Guard Captain Matilda has no objections, I will gladly join Jazdia. The prince is close at hand, and we should be careful not to squander the opportunity. Lady Veronica and Cedar have great skill when it comes to location, so I trust them to successfully locate him. Guard captain Matilda, it is not just the King who has trust in you. We should stand together on this."

[Assistant]
Kaito sighed. As usual Jazdia was drawing her own plans again without any regard for what others thought or said. That elf could be such a pain in the ass at times. And yet it was one of the traits the kitsune liked about her. She was never boring and complacent. It was truly a miracle that Madame Mathilda hasn't exploded yet because of Jazdia's way of communicating. It would surely be a sight to behold. However the orc showed a degree of remarkable patience that he hadn't expected of her.

"I don't believe in coincidences. I still think the fact that we suddenly broke through with scrying is entirely intentional from their side and that us splitting up is exactly what they want us to do. But hey, why listen to someone who specializes in trickery and misdirection….." Spoke the fox mildly annoyed as he was convinced that this whole situation was an obvious trap.

For a moment he contemplated what to do next. The decision was already made to split up so there was little that could be done about that. The only thing that wasn't clear yet was who would go to what place. "So about this splitting up thing. Who's going to tag along with Mathilda to Pesti and who's going with Jazdia to Fanghorn? Can I assume that you ladies have thought about what abilities you want on what front?"


[System]
Age: 97
Species: Werewolf
Goals/Faction: Mattias is a loner travelling the world to eliminate all hostile vampires from existence.
Backstory: In his life before leaving Alaska, Mattias found that he greatly disagreed with his pack's principles. That all vampires were the scum of the Earth, and that all humans were ruining the planet. He knew that vampires and humans were both capable of great evil, but he was also aware that where there was the capability to do wrong, was also the capability to do right. Mattias wanted to protect the innocent people still out there from harm, so he left his pack and began his travels.
Before all of this and during the Nightwars, Mattias was one of the few that refused to take up arms with Magnus against the humans, believing the former to be crazy and his plan absurd. He was ridiculed at the war's start for not conforming, and then resented at the war's end for being right. This only contributed to his self imposed exile from the pack.
Mattias often considered attempting to join Soldier, but deigned that tying himself to a set of rules might impede him somewhere along the line. He's still not certain if that is the right choice.
Personality: While Mattias has faith in human and vampire-kind, he is far from an idealist. He knows that people are inherently selfish, and that most vampires would sooner suck a human dry than attempt to coexist with them. He does however know that GOOD people are being made victims of violence every day.
Powers/Skills: Aside from the typical strengths and weaknesses of a werewolf, Mattias also possess greatly improved senses, being able to pick up the scent of a vampire and track it to the source from a significant distance away. He also boasts night vision and impressive hearing.
Equipment/Weapons: He's strong enough even in human form that he doesn't require much in the way of weaponry.
Themesong: Uhh… Eye of the Tiger? I actually think that might be somewhat accurate.

[User]
The creature stared quizzically at the new arrival, blood dripping from it's maw. Why had the fighting stopped? It growled periodically whenever an insult was thrown it's way, and by the end of Bedivere's speech the creature was snarling at the vampire and poised to strike, barely held back by the small but powerful conscious man riding passenger.

Mattias' mind was reeling at this turn of events. The werewolf knew of this creature of the night, and of his power. The strength of one being alone would not be enough to defeat him. If Mattias and the Soldier agents alike both gave attacking Bedivere their all, could they really even win? And what of these "options" proposed? Only a few people saw Mattias before he changed, maybe he could make a rush for the exit and high tail it out of here? No, not a chance. There didn't seem to be any plausible way out of this one. I'm going to have to wait for the agents to make a move and follow their lead. Going against the grain here will only get me killed.

[Assistant] Sonja being the more rational of the Trio of ex mercs took a step forward, clearly raising her hands and showing that she had sheathed her weapon. "Sir, if i may just have moment of your time to explain the situation more, as what you have gathered is only half the story." she got a few looks of disgust from the vampires that did surround them. "Er, what are you doing Sonja" Katya asked still looking for an exit or a distraction. "Yeah bitch what the hell" Ash shouted to her trying to decided whether she should just take a shot at the geezer. "Jesus christ would you two please shut the fuck up for like two minutes. Anyways, back to what i was saying before. We were never here to exterminate vampires, we were here on peaceful terms. we were to just check the governments security so any vampires that i think you still call ferals are contained and the threat to all parties is neutralized. As for the 'hunter' bit, its merely a Callsign. you see the three of us...."  she said pointing back to Katya and Ashley. "...were Ex Military. it was more nostalgic than its literal term, you see. As for the attack, well we can show you that since we entered the bar there were hostilities towards us. we have video footage to prove it. plus it was not us who threw the first punch, or glass in this case. non of our agents threw a glass it came as a suprise to us all. we merely defended ourselves, as im sure you would have done in the same situation"

[User]
Mithias could have sworn he heard the growls and roar of a werewolf somewhere behind him. So he had seen one. That mortal-looking young man with the dark hair at the door had a wild spark in his eyes. It must have been him. A werewolf in London was an extraordinary rarity, but the vampire's intrigue would have to wait. Right now, he was on the ground slugging the zygomatic arch of a somewhat older vampire with a right hook, the one that had grabbed him with some kind of shadow tendril.

The vampire's face came back slowly with a fanged grin. Clearly the punch hadn't been enough to discourage him. He laughed mockingly, daring Mithias to try something else. Bearing his own fangs in a frown, Mithias quickly reached for a bottle off the end of the bar and tried that, smashing it over the other's head with a splash. Such good alcohol gone to waste. Just as the stoic vampire was about to claw out Mithias' throat, the alcohol inexplicably caught fire, going up fast all over him. He reared up like a startled horse and completely forgot everything else besides his flaming head. Mithias scrambled up and kicked him into the furniture.

A high pitched crack cut the air as the glass pool began to give way. Occupants above vacated promptly before the bottom shattered downward in a large section, creating a significant but temporary waterfall. The water moved tables and bodies as it shoved past everyone's legs in its escape. Certain lights flickered and died as wires were flooded and equipment was damaged.

Mithias Varomere felt it more keenly and quickly than anyone else, the sudden appearance of that unmistakable presence, his aura itself triggering a sensation that jolted him like an electric current running through his core. Mithias froze. Lord Bedivere had arrived.

The rest of the clubbers felt it as well, particularly the attuned undead. The fighting was put on hold for the moment, no one daring to draw the attention of the club's owner who was most assuredly, already pissed.

Bedivere quickly killed his manager, the bartender, then casually rounded the bar and grabbed his special sanguine stock. Everybody just watched him, at least everybody that was still conscious. With the compensatory murder and quality drink beginning to alleviate his displeasure, Bedivere delivered his list of options, ultimatums basically, and the disgruntled band of Soldier agents and werewolf stood dumbfounded, frantically processing their situation. The obvious release of the cursed blade of darkness, Excalibur, from its sheath-disguise as an umbrella made clear that Bedivere was ready and willing to deliver option four.

Two strange vampires with violet hued eyes looked to be preparing for another fight off to the side. The werewolf also snarled and flexed at the vampire lord impressively, but fortunately stayed its ground. At least, he didn't seem to want to eat Soldier agents tonight.

For a long moment, long by vampire standards, Mithias looked at Bedivere from across the bar, his expression unreadable. Their eyes met and locked on each other. The lights continued to fritz and what lumination remained began to dim even further as it was slowly consumed by Bedivere's blade. There was no escaping now, and certainly no victory. Being brave, and rational, Sonja began to explain, but her words were received as a mere pointless chirping. Deeds had already been done, deals stuck, blood spilt, kings checked, and nobody was going to look at a video feed.

"Sonja." Mithias was looking at her. He slowly shook his head, meaning it was futile. He would be the one to step up to handling this, as was his position.

Water sloshing around his lower legs, Mithias began walking over to the bar. "This, Soldiers, is Lord Bedivere of Sinews, Knight of Camelot, former Lord under Dracula, owner of Du lac, and suspected head of an illegal vampire mafia deeply involved in political manipulation." The accusation was cute in comparison to the truth. Mithias put a hand on the drink that had been poured for him and cast his golden eyes down to it, specifically avoiding Bedivere's gaze. "You have me in a bind, Sir Bedivere. You are a knight as I am, and a vampire of honor. In promising the survival of my men, you leave me no choice but to surrender myself. I cannot chose another option. I know you will keep your word and let them go." Mithias looked to Rin and Roman, and slightly to the very unexpected werewolf, to see their reactions.

Roman could tell by looking at him that Mithias was telling the truth. Contrary to what Roman or Rin might have hoped, Mithias didn't give any indication that he was planning a fancy doublecross to get out of this later or anything. He looked to be simply accepting terms.

[Assistant]
Katya wanted to stop it but even she knew it was too late. "Im sorry but im not standing by as another of my commanding officers is taken from us. not again." She screamed as she went to draw her gun from its holster but Sonja had gotten there first and taken her gun before she did something stupid.

"I do apologise for this evenings events, do go back to your partying 'Lord' Bedivere" she said dragging Katya out of the bar by her jacket. "What in gods name do you think your doing, pulling a gun on someone that gave us an out. are you actually that stupid Kat. Look i dont like the fact that right now we have lost our CO but dont think we aint going back for him. even if command says no. You know how i like my Ops to go, live to fight another day."

Ashley was still inside the bar as Katya was dragged away. "So i guess this is goodbye Commander Varomere. its been nice knowing you. i guess." she went to walk out the door too but turned at the last minute to talk to the two agents still inside the club. "Allison, Roman you coming." she was stood close by the werewolf aswell and she couldnt imagine what they'd do to it if she didnt offer to take it with her. "You coming to boy?" she said to it as if speaking to a dog.

[User]
Just like the rest of the crew, Allison neither did stay put as the fight began. The three girls next to her kicked their chairs into some of them and immediately started firing their pistols. Finally some action! She grabbed her chair as she stood up and smashed it right on the closest vampire head Join us on our next mission they said, it will be a piece of cake they said!

Instead of making things worse by simply shooting all hostiles dead Allison decided to warm up with a bit CQC. She cracked her knuckles with a smile as she noticed the black-haired woman who made fun of her before "So you will be my oponnent? Come at me, I will show you what this 'fair game' is capable of, bitch!"
The vampire sighed. Smiling at Allison she said "Oh my I think someone has to teach you manners. I am going to give you a severe beating so that you realise where your place is."
"Oh don't worry, I exactly know my place. It's with my fist in your face!" Allison snarled at the woman as she charged at her.

Still smiling the vampire woman either dodged or blocked Allisons attacks "What is that all? And I thought you wanted to beat me." It was this single moment where she underestimated Allison and let her guard down. With a low kick Allison instantly sweeped the vampire off her feet. "Oh, I am just getting warmed up." Allison mocked her, but before they could continue their fight something, unfortunate happened.

With the glass ceiling shattering the 'Lord' made his appearance. All the fighting stopped abruptly as he grabbed a drink from the bar after disposing of the bartender. He offered four options to the intruders or rather Mithias, who seemed to know Lord Bedivere of Sinews. Sonja tried to talk them out of their situation, but even Allison facepalmed at her.
You can't talk yourself out of this one, we are clearly at a disadvantage. But he is right, with these geniuses fucking up the Op and shooting people, SOLDIER will have no other choice if they don't want to be labled as a group of terrorists. Not really like I have a problem with that, there are enough people out there who want to see me dead already...

Allison wasn't too happy with Mithias picking option three, but it probably was the best choice as the leader of the group. Katya was about to screw up some more, but thankfully she was stopped by Sonja. While Katya was dragged outside and Ashley walked to the entrance Allison was sill standing there a bit longer. "You know, Varomere, SOLDIER just paid me to follow your orders, so if this is your final decision. I'll take my leave." Allison said before she turned around. As she walked towards the entrance she glared at the black-haired vampire woman as she passed her You got lucky this time...

[Assistant]
Sonja grabbed her radio from her belt and changed the frequency to that of SOLDIER command. "Command, this is Hunter two six. Mission is a failure. Commander Varomere has been captured. we have very little equipment left. requesting immediate Evacuation of all Remaining agents."

Katya heard exactly what Allison was saying. how could she leave now, after all they'd been through in the past she was just gonna up and leave. "Hey what the hell. you cant just leave, not now not after everything that we've been through. did none of that matter to you at all?"

A voice came back over the Radio to Sonja. "Negative Hunter two six. We cannot spare any of our extraction units to get you out of england at this point. We can however give you the location of hidden cache in the area that has a zodiac boat. if your squad can get to that and get into international waters, then we may be able to get a chopper to come and pick up the boat. The cache is on the coast at Weymouth, the helicopter will pick you up at Rousse in Guernsey in a week. Acting as of now Hunter two two, Agent Radcliffe is in command of your Unit. Good luck Hunter two six"