[System]
Age: 251

Race: Oni

Appearance:

School: Sleeping Dragon/Awoken Heart

Fighting Style: The Sleeping Dragon teaches one to attack with deliberate and powerful strikes, cutting through man and machine like a wire through clay. The Awoken Heart focuses on an Oni's immense magical abilities, harnessing their Chi and empowering their Oni's body. Hokori uses a technique similar to Xing Yi Quan for his attacks.

Weaknesses: The Sleeping Dragon's fault comes in its lack of range, needing to be close to any good. Awoken Heart is reliant on Hokori's pool of available Chi, prolonged battles will weaken him.

Weapons: A katana forged by the Smiths Under the Mountain. Its blade glows with internal fire and sings as it cleaves through the air.

History: Hokori has never wanted anything more from life besides tobacco, alcohol, and a place to call home. At first he had none, instead he traveled the world in search of these things. His search brought him into contact with many people of many walks of life. The one that would become the most important would come at his fiftieth year on this land. His name was Hokori and he was a warrior.

At the beginning the two fought, but somehow during the battle a friendship blossomed and the two traveled together for several decades before Hokori the Swordsman decided to go home. Throughout their many years of friendship Hokori taught the Oni all he knew before his death, he was eighty one years old. On his death, the Oni took up his name and his duty as defender of the hidden Village.

And so it went, generation after generation Hokori stood vigil over the village until one day everything just disappeared in a landslide. The Mountain had betrayed them. Afterwards Hokori watched over the survivors until the elements, bandits, or beasts took them too. This period of his life left Hokori in a deep depression as he felt like he had failed his old friend. It took twenty years but Hokori accepted the tragedy as it was and came out stronger than he ever could without it.

Struck with wanderlust yet again, Hokori has spent the last decade traveling the lands once again in search of new purpose, alcohol, and tobacco.

My relation to...Seikatsu
Hokori has seen the young man fight before and wishes him the best for whatever life can throw his way.

[User]
Lee walked down the gangway to the red ship. He didn't even know why he was even here right now. He did not need to go to the Secret Cove for anything about it. He knew that Boar would be there. He figured that they could have a real fight in front off all those people. They had just fought in a local market place. It had ended in a draw with enither of them being able to continue and not get caught by the guards.

When he got on he heard the two arguing with each other. He hated when anyone hurt someone else Lee saw red. He quickly moved and flipped over the dwarf and grabbed him. He quick threw him into the wall of the ship. He had learned that trick fighting Boar so fighting the Orc did have some perks. He looked at the vendor and gave her his best smile. "Hey beautiful. Name's Lee." He said laying it on thick. He was shameless. The girl had his full attention. "Did I mention I beat an Orc?" He boasted.

[Assistant]
Yin Hu watched the water closely. He didn't really have a choice.
Some people would say that he watched the water because cats had a natural hatred for the stuff. Others would claim that his instincts had taken over, and he was looking for fish. A third would claim to know for a fact that manbeasts loved to ride fast things such as ships, and stick their heads off the side and feel the wind. Ten they'd laugh and move along. They were all wrong, and Yin hoped that the trio was going to the tournament, and that he'd be lucky enough to see someone beat the snot out of them. It was very unlike Yin to be so vindictive, but he was in a special situation.
The reason why Yin was hanging over the railing was simply that he was horribly seasick. You couldn't tell for the fur, but he felt green and the whole world was rocking in a way that should never happen. To top it off it was Yin's first time on a ship, and if he had anything to say about it, it would also be his last. Master Gan Fang had insisted upon the ship, saying that last year they'd almost arrived too late, and they'd been attacked by bandits on the way.
Not that a few bandits posed a problem, most of them had simply picked up a sharp object and fancied themselves fighters… But arriving late was strictly against the master's character and so it could not happen again.

After feeding the fishes for a while, Yin felt certain that he could not possibly do so any more and pushed as hard as his muscles would allow in the wooden side of the boat. He'd wrapped his tail around a nearby rope for stability, but even by pulling as hard as he could manage, he could not lift himself up. His muscles were weaker than ever before and his belly, even though it was empty, felt like a big barrel about to tip over.

"What's the matter, can't handle the sea? Hahaha!"
The voice belonged to a crew member, a rotten kind of man that smelled strongly of sweat, dirt, alcohol and sea. You could easily tell the crew apart from the fighters on the ship. Martial artist over all took great pride in their abilities and wanted to make their school look good. By dressing up they gave the illusion that martial arts were indeed an art form, like painting or calligraphy… Not pummelling your opponent to death with blunt force or ripping joints out of their sockets by manipulating arms and legs. The men of the sea however could not care less. They dressed little better than in rags and some of them had obviously not cared enough about their appearance, or the noses of their passengers, to have a bath before they set out.
The crew man slapped Yin on the back with enough force to overpower the manbeast's already taxed muscles and sent him straight into the railing with a thud that almost knocked the wind out of him. Saliva gathered in his mouth again, just like it had before, when he was going to throw up, and only seconds later he could feel his stomach turning itself inside out.
The crew man walked away laughing. Off to tell the tale to his buddies, it would be a long trip...

[User]
"Jeeoh-Jeeoh-Chee, Jeeoh-Jeeoh-Bah, Jeeoh-Jeeoh-Jeeoh, Shure-Shure-shure!"
Hanging off the back of the ship was a green monstrosity doing chin-ups to pass the time. He was forbidden from using a mast in fear he would break it or disrupt the ship but if he fell off the back into the sea would be no-one's loss. Slowly he clambered up over the back and looked out over everyone with a great smile, at least everyone hoped it was a smile and not just a ferocious under-bite.

He came down the stairs on the port side to see a catfolk returning its tuna to the sea. He offered a soft pat to its back and looked up when there was a commotion and there was Lee. Typical. For the moment the great lumbering beast got down low to the railingand watched what was happening like a child sneaking a peat at what he shouldn't see. Slow breathing took the fire out of his limbs as the soreness faded in minutes what should have taken hours to recover.

[Assistant]
The woman that Lee helped turned flush red. Upon closer inspection, Lee realizes that the woman is a human nearly triple his age. She smiles affectionately, flashing discolored teeth as she bows repeatedly. "Thank you kind sir!" A look of disappointment begins to show as she stares at all of her items scattered on the floor. "I would offer you a free meal on the house but as you can see, my wares have all gone to waste. Maybe there are other ways I can repay you?" She winked.

"Who did that!?" Tsubo the dwarf clambers onto his feet. Apparently the motion of Lee's throw was so sudden that the dwarf from The Shallow Step was caught completely unaware. Duang, the young human he had been arguing with, clapped his hands with a smug expression. "Ha! What display of balance, dwarf!" Duang points a finger at Lee, eying his appearance with a grin. "Looks like the Shallow Step is no challenge for a beggar!" Some martial artists laugh, while others silently anticipate what would happen next.

---

A man in a loose garb was walking in the same direction as the crewman that had roughhoused Yin Hu. In his hands were two cups of warm tea, likely bought from one of the vendors. The crewman snickered. "Oh, that extra one for me? Thanks." Just as he attempts to swipe the cup from the man's hands, the crewman stops mid-stride, clutching at his stomach. It felt as though something had struck him right in the gut. The man with the cups of tea pauses, looking at the sailor as he begins to abruptly vomit off to the side of the boat. "Here." The man places one cup on the rail, giving two pats on the crewman's back with his free hand. "Do not be ashamed. Even the most seasoned men are folly to these ever shifting waters." And with that he left the sailor to his business.

He approached the manbeast. A large orc offered temporary comfort with a gentle pat on his back, then walked off to see what was going on at the main deck. The man placed his last cup of tea on the railing next to the manbeast. "This will help." He said, facing him. "You must be Master Gan Fang's new student? My name is Lu Fau."


[System]
E I L E E N /// T E S S A

Personal Dossier

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Avatar
Ailanthus Altissima

Age
32

Gender
Female

Visage
Under a dark suit of magical armor is the small, frail frame of Ailanthus Altissima. Though she could have been her ideal self, her PARIAH appearance is (other than being free of blemishes) unremarkable, normal, and bland. That is how she sees herself. She appears slightly younger than she actually is because society reminds her constantly that she hasn't matured because she's not married and still plays games. Her glasses form a very core part of her identity and followed her into PARIAH. When out of armor, she wears a white robe that acts as a closest approximation to a lab coat. She has no desire to 'stay in-character' or preserve 'immersion' for others, intentionally commissioning crafters to make her scientific- and futuristic-looking gear.

Below is her face, 90% of the time:

Personality
Tessa is a single, middle-aged woman whose work- and social-life has her stressed to breaking point, causing her to indulge in escapist behavior with the aid of electronic media. In some circles, she might be called an 'otaku', which would be true; while others might call her a 'fujoshi', which would be technically incorrect. High-strung and irritable, Tessa has difficulty keeping her stress from flowing into her leisure activities, and is often accused of 'spoiling the mood'. Some question why she even plays games as she has a tendency to become frustrated easily, a trait that stems from performance anxiety.

Though Tessa has difficulty enjoying a game if things don't go her way, she is addicted to the rush of things going right. Despite her thorny and at-times belligerent behavior, Tessa has a deep sense of responsibility, a need to not only pull her own weight, but to go above and beyond. However, she not only holds herself to this level of perfectionism, she expects the same from anyone unfortunate enough to be her teammate.

Background
Urban China was all Eileen ever knew, from the robotic and highly-competitive educational system to the robotic and highly-competitive high-tech industrial work environment. She never stood out when it came to academic excellence, but she did stick her neck out just far enough to warrant being bullied and socially sabotaged by her peers. She went through life with jaded bitterness and social awkwardness.

She retreated daily to social media, illegally downloaded anime, manga, and games, becoming addicted to MMO's in particular. She was known as a rage gamer, logging on alone, joining teams of people she didn't know to participate in dungeons and other party activities. She even attempted forum RP once but only ended up arguing with others, pissing people off, and finally, rage-quitting for good.

Living in the high-tech center of ShenZhen, Eileen is an engineer in a bloated company that produces and sells cheap, barely-functional healthcare devices. Her life is a wreck and she was so caught up in securing her place in the world that her nearer relatives are now suddenly concerned that she will never get married and have kids. Her daily routine has not changed since school: wake up, wash up, commute, attend class/work, commute home, eat, leisure, sleep, repeat.

One day, the company's R&D division wanted to play with the idea of therapeutic VR, and got several PARIAH headsets for the researchers to toy around with. But due to lack of a perceivable market, the project was dropped and the headsets were put in permanent storage. Eileen asked to take one home and the lax inventory manager gave her the OK. She wasn't that interested in VR, but figured she'd give it a go. She figured that the worst that could happen was that she'd lose interest and leave it in a corner to gather dust, which it would have done anyways if she didn't take it.

Reputation
Ailanthus Altissima, the scientific name for a plant commonly called the 'tree of Heaven'. It is an invasive species with the ability to clone itself through its roots in a technique called 'suckering', and is, like the mythological hydra, difficult to exterminate. It is considered a noxious weed due to the foul-smelling odor it produces. The tree also resprouts vigorously when cut, making its eradication difficult and time-consuming. In many urban areas, it has acquired the derisive nicknames of "ghetto palm", "stink tree", and "tree of Hell".

No one knows, or cares, why Dr. Eileen Fang chose this name, and most refuse to say it in full, earning Eileen the nickname 'Tessa' from Altissima. Since logging on for the first time, Tessa has been like her namesake, invading parties and raising a stink. Her initial desire had been to party up and quest with others, but her belligerence always got in the way.

Eventually, she turned her focus to enchantments, seeing a need in the community for those who only had access to crafted gear to attain gear that could compete with rare drops. While her enchantments aren't that good, properly crafted and enchanted gear at least had a fighting chance against Rares and Epics, and sometimes, a fighting chance was all some adventurers needed. Tessa found her niche, but still needed to satisfy her urge to actually adventure, so she would take enchanting commissions, find out what materials she needed for her enchantments, and then demand the ones who commissioned her to take her with them when they went to farm said materials.

Due to forcing herself into parties in this way, Tessa adopted a flexible, albeit lazy, playstyle: a confusing, semi-immobile walking disaster area, essentially claiming a large portion of the battlefield as her own and manipulating the positions of her enemies, doing some status effects and some damage, while still survivable enough to hold her own.

Tessa has not achieved fame for her enchantments; she instead draws clients by under-sellng other enchanters, a practice that has gotten her in trouble with guilds on more than one occasion.Attributes & Additional Information

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Role
Control Mage

Affiliation
Queon

Profession
Enchanter

Weapon of Choice
Chains

Domain(s)
Metal
Auras

Benchmarks (Physical)
Exile's Burden: While Tessa has always veered towards the massive damage and control effects of mages, her poor gaming skills has had her lament her chosen characters' 'squishiness' on more than one occasion. As someone who is easily abandoned by her party members, Tessa decided, for survival reasons, to wear armor that is uncharacteristic of mages. This habit, combined with her tendency to hoard loot alone and overburden her backpack at the end of missions, has led to her being surprisingly strong at carrying heavy weight. On top of that, she has enchanted her armor to feel less heavy, allowing her to move freely in heavy armor despite being a mage who is otherwise not physically strong.

Tough It Out: Tessa has pretty severe body dysphoria and believes that the body is the slave of the mind. If the body fails to obey the mind, then the body must be punished/forced until it complies. In PARIAH, she is even more dissociated from her body because it's virtual. As such, she is much more willing to put herself in harms way or try to force her body beyond its limits, such as climbing and jumping over an impassable mountain because she doesn't want to walk around it (who hasn't tried to do this in a free-roam RPG?). This has given her an innate toughness, especially when it comes to taking blows.

Artisanal Precision: As an enchanter and a perfectionist, (and Gunpla aficionado) Tessa is good at working with minute, tiny details, whether it's inserting magical gems or carving runes. She can thus enhance equipment with high-quality enchantments thanks to her constant practice of the art, and is herself completely decked out in gear she has enchanted.

Paranoid Perception: Having been abandoned and betrayed by her party members on more than one occasion, Tessa is understandably paranoid. Because of this, she has a strong awareness of escape routes, dead ends, and good ambush spots. Initially her paranoia resulted in a million false alarms, but over time she began to recognize the signs better and better. This benchmark makes it very difficult to sneak up on her or ambush her and her party.

Cock Block: When she was younger, Tessa was very socially awkward (well, she still is), and had a tendency to get in people's way, literally and figuratively. As she matured(?), she actively learned a bit better where to stand and where to walk to provide the least resistance to the flow of foot traffic. But in games, and in PARIAH in particular, Tessa has learned to use what once was sheer cluelessness as a weapon. Identifying her opponents' goals and/or targets, Tessa knows to place herself squarely in between and actively body block them, using her natural tendency to be a hindrance and a physical barrier. To her enemies, she always seems to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Benchmarks (Mental)
Short Spell List: Tessa has restricted herself to learning only a small handful of spells, choosing to go for quality instead of quantity. As such, her familiarity with these spells runs deep, shortening her cast time, increasing the efficacy, and making it more difficult for the casting to be interrupted.

Synergistic Specialization: Tessa's main spell is telekinesis, which she applies mainly to her weapon of choice: chains. The chain links have been inscribed with runes that increase their ability to be controlled and increase their magical affinity. Most of her other spells are conducted through the chains: electricity and vibrations. She has learned how these different spell effects work with one another, allowing unique synergy and a combat style that her opponents are unfamiliar with.

Stacked Auras: Tessa also has a handful of aura spells (areas of effect centered on herself). She learned over time how to cast and maintain multiple auras simultaneously, some offensive, some defensive, making her playstyle come out: area control. This makes her a veritable bunker; difficult to approach and a safe haven for party members.

Spider's Web: Tessa's chains are usually laid out radiating from her in all directions for several meters. She has learned to be extra vigilant of what goes on in her zone of control and can differentiate friend from foe with spells that would otherwise be indiscriminate.

Kick 'Em While They're Down: Tessa doesn't get along easily with people and has been bullied for much of her life. She takes a sadistic pleasure in lashing out, in having the tables turned by becoming the bully. Delighting in 'kicking her enemies while they are down', she focused so many spells on downed, incapacitated, or otherwise helpless targets that she has developed an interesting trait: her spells do higher damage to and ignore the magic resistance of targets who have been affected by any negative state, whether slowed, taunted, rooted, frozen, stunned, etc.

[User]
:: the streets of thorinn //  thorinn ::

---

A couple of Rael's words whizzed past his head, but he got the gist of it. He had the bad habit of assuming most people on the internet were American, so it came as a mild surprise to remember that this wasn't the case with her. Otaku was a Japanese word, one that meant...

Um...

"Dreams, huh. Makes it sound like a pretty big deal." A pang of guilt hit him. The only reason he'd been able to play was because of his brother bending the rules at work. He knew Logan's friends pretty well from when they'd come over, shouting at the same game screen or gearing up to do the same at a LARP in real life. They'd all probably kill to get the chance to take part in something like this.

The feeling didn't last too long. An experience people used to only dream of kind of lost its bragging rights when death got involved.

"Trying to survive in a dream world with people from every part of the world. History books are gonna have fun with this," he chuckled.

[Assistant]
City of Thorinn

Daytime

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City Streets
Eaudenil blinked in confusion whilst the red-haired girl rambled of words that she, in German and English, had simply never heard before. Otaku? Oneironautics? Though Eaudenil had tried to make sense of what Rael spoke, it only made her more confused, and so she nodded, pretending she understood what the spearwoman had said.

"History books?" Eaudenil questioned. She had been so caught up with surviving from day-to-day that it hadn't occurred to her that they could be making history. The Sonnefelds had already made history once following a failed bank robbery that claimed her father's life, and now Eaudenil had been stuck in a video game that could claim her life for real. Surely their family name had to be cursed at this point.

"Well, I suppose we are making history right now." Eaudenil continued, trying to hide the tears she clearly wanted to cry. She couldn't show weakness in front of her newfound companions; not now, not ever.

If only Vati was here; he'd tell me everything will be alright in the end.


[System]
Age: 18

Appearance: Completely androgynous. Olive skinned (from her mother) and green eyes (from her father). She's 5' 5'' and has the lean physique of a runner due to her profession; the more mail she distributes, the more money she makes. Has short, messy brown hair which she keeps under a dark gray cap, and often wears simple trousers, a tunic, and hardy boots.

Occupation: Mail Runner

Personality: Generally quiet and hyper sensitive to her environment, but is coarse and foul mouthed to those she becomes comfortable with, mainly due to how she grew up mingling with street urchins. Because of this, she can be slightly off putting to those she meets, but doesn't mind. A true introvert, she likes to spend time alone or with a few group of people she enjoys being around.

She's resilient and well composed, having been put through many physically and mentally challenging situations in her life.

She has a quick wit and an even faster reflex, but lacks in people skills and academic strength. She's good at transactional relationships when you first meet her but has difficulty bonding with people beyond that. Has a keen sense of wanderlust, which she attributes to her father, but is much more careful than he.

History: Robin was raised in the poorer part of the city with her aunt and cousin after her father left to pursue riches in the east with the promise of "making our dreams come true! I'll be back!" Robin's father is a French traveling merchant who has always chased his dreams, despite having no record of success or measure of cautiousness. It was that lack of restraint that led him to marry her mother, a gypsy he encountered while traveling. With time and the disillusionment towards the romanticism of settling down with a family, the two parents agreed to split and leave Robin with her father's aunt, a stern and austere innkeeper.

Her aunt took baby Robin in, familiar with her brother's whimsical nature, and raised Robin as if she was her own--with unwaivable sternness. Her father has visited a few times, always with tales of foreign lands. Both Robin and her cousin, whom she grew up with, were put to work in the inn since day one. Robin never liked the monotonous work that seemed to bear little benefit to the family business, so when she was 8, she found other work as a mail runner and heaved the inn work on her cousin. She found that she could make more money as a runner the better she got, and could help support her family that way.

She befriended the other mail runners, who were often older street rats of various ages with impressive knowledge about the streets, and grew up with a family away from home who took her in as their own. Her hat was a gift from her "mentor" when she finally beat him at a race across the city. The nooks and crannies of the city became familiar, and the street urchins her teachers, and her feet. Family and running are the most precious things to her.

Items Held: A single Flower (received from Eveline, the lantern.

[User]
From what short time he was in this forest Talan had learned much of its nature. This place was more than just a gathering of trees and other plant life. In truth that would be a rather dull understanding of it for in truth the forest seemed to be alive. A single massive organism reacting to outside stimulus, to survive here one had to be careful not to trigger a potentially fatal response from the forest.

After crafting his spear Talan went to river and collected a good amount of mud in his hands. Smearing it allover hisbody he intended to form a type of camouflage incase he would stumble upon unfriendly entities. "Food and shelter", were his only thoughts as he traveled further down the river. The entire time watching his peripheral vision incase he was being followed, it was not long before he stumbled upon a structure in the forest. It was unlike anything the tribe had back home but from a guess it appeared to be a housing unit. Talan was tempted for a moment to enter but was quickly reminded of the dangers of this forest. So far he had never known the wilds to produce illusions such as this but he was wary. Instead he decided to wait and see, if there was anything signalling danger he'd move on but until then he'd set up camp not too far but a safe distance away.

Looking around for resources was not an issue as the forest was quite dense in vegetation. The broken twigs and scattered stones were perfect for firemaking and after finding a spot near the river he placed his supplies in a heap. First was fire; it would keep him warm, cook food, and ward off predators. After setting up the rocks in a circular pattern he places the twigs and branches within the circle making sure they would not cause a fire the likes of the one he recently escaped. The fireplace was ready but the hard part was next, actually getting the fire. It took more than a few tries and a bit of cursing but Talan managed to get a small fire burning. Unsatisfied with the results he went and gathered larger twigs to add to the pile and eventually the small flame grew into a proper fire.

When it came to building shelter Talan came upon an obstacle. Should he build his shelter on the ground or in the nearby tree. The tree would offer him security from grounded predators but at the cost of being less comfortable. The ground, while being the more reliable source of a good night's sleep left him vulnerable if anything approached his campsite while he slept. Favoring security, Talan began to place large leaves on a particularly large branch of a tree nearby. With the future bed matted down he wove a string from the fibers of the various plants nearby to secure him to the tree while he slept.

The bed was made, the campfire set, and all that remained was a source of food. As he was unfamiliar with the berries in the area Talan opted fruits out of his diet as they could be poisonous. Perhaps there were fish in the river? He didn't see any at first but perhaps they were scared off and went further down river? If that was the case he'd have to leave the camp and travel a good distance downstream if that were the case. At the time it seemed his only real option was to hunt the area. After scouting the perimeter of the camp Talan was satisfied with its safety and headed out to hunt, but before doing so he memorized the area and key landmarks so he would not become lost while out hunting.

[Assistant]
Anise jolted awake and cried out "Tyaelaem!" The princess looked around nervously. She could feel she was laying against something rough. When she touched it she found out it was a building of some sort. She used the wall to stand herself up. She then felt around to try and find her nightstick, but to no avail now that it was laying somewhere in these abominable woods. Her hands then went to the belt that held the sword around her waist, and she found that the sword was where it should be and relaxed a little bit.

Where was Tyaelaem? What knocked her out? How much time had gone by? Then a pain spiked in her stomach as she heard a loud growl come from it. Food. She needed food. She walked along the wall of the building and as she rounded the corner to face the front of the building she saw light from a lamp, but not like any of the special lamps like the one she saw when she first arrived, or from any of the others.

She walked along the wall until she made it to the front of the building and cautiously approached the door. She stopped at the door when she heard a voice that she hadn't heard before. A female voice. From what Anise could tell, the person talking was trying to get someone else to leave. She cracked the door open just enough so she could peek through and see if they were dangerous like the old man that told her there was no escape. She then saw the food on the table and burst through the door and rushed to the table. She stood in a position at the table so she could get out quickly and grabbed a chunk of bread and chomped right down on it. She grabbed a pitcher of water and took a deep drink right out of it. She glanced at the others in the room, they had been the first girls she had ever seen since she came to forest.

She glowered at them cautiously. They didn't seem like they had been in this forest for long, and this definitely wasn't their home. "So, who are you and what are your goals?" She wanted to know if they'd be dangerous or not.

[User]
Simon had no clue where he was going and now that it was dark outside he had found it even more difficult to find his way around without having the full benefits of sight since he was without his glasses. He was hoping that he would fair out better in the morning with the 'sun' full overhead. Given the amount of messed up things that happened and he had been told he wasn't completely sure it was a sun, maybe it was just a giant flashlight. Who honestly knew. He hadn't had much time to look around before the 'sun' had set since when he came to the 'sun' was pretty much set however he did manage to find a cave inside of a giant stone wall. Probably the one the wall that the waterfall that he could just make out since he assumed it was a little bit further down the wall.

For the night he was content since he had a place to sleep that was semi-enclosed which was a small bonus. As he was laying on the cold, hard ground he would hear his stomach growl extremely loudly. Being in a cave didn't help any since it only amplified the sound even more. The moment after his stomach growled the frog that he picked up and had taken with him had made noise since he had acquired him. *Croak, Croak* The frog was right in front of him, staring right at Simon, not breaking contact with him. Simon crawled towards the frog and looked it in the face and made a single croak noise back to the frog. Simon had fallen asleep shortly afterwards.

[Assistant]
The night proved to be Talan's biggest adversary. Hunting at night was no easy task and even with the moonlight softly illuminating the sky the forest ground was still pitch black. This was what Talan feared most, not being able to see what could possibly be right next to him. His memories of the blood rats scurrying out from the underbrush caused him to check his feet often for fear of having them be bitten by something venomous. "This forest is trying my patience!", he thought as he stalked the woods. At one point the idea of putting on the wolf mask came to the forefront of his thoughts but Talan pushed it back. He didn't want to use the mask until it was absolutely necessary.

It took some time and more effort on Talan's part to tread the forest silently but eventually he managed to catch a rabbit. He tied the legs together with the plant fibers and slung the carcass over his shoulder before continuing on. That was when he stumbled upon the cave. "Most likely a predatory animal dwells there. Don't want to intrude if it's awake", Talan was just about to retreat when he heard a stomach growl. The sound was loud and most likely belonged to a large animal, perhaps a jaguar? "It's hungry!, Talan knew that a hungry animal would go out to hunt if that was the case it was too late for him to run as it was probably going to leave the cave any second now. To the hunter's surprise nothing exited the dwelling. Talan stood up slightly puzzled but slowly crouched his way closer to the cave mouth. "If it's asleep I can sneak up on it and kill it. That would mean food, and a potential threat removed from my territory", it didn't take long for Talan to decide and he slowly inched his way closer and closer into the cave until he was a few feet away from the creature. When he was ready Talan sprung up and aimed his spear down towards the beast but instead of striking the body he stopped himself. "It's....human?", Talan was somewhat relieved that he wasn't going to have to fight a jaguar but the fact still remained that he didnt know who this was. He pressed his spear point to the individual's neck and spoke, "Move and you die".

[User]
Simon was having an amazing dream, he was eating a giant piece of pit roasted animal he couldn't really make out what kind it was but whatever it was tasted phenomenal. He had never eaten such amazing food in all of his life. While he was eating he felt a random sharp pain in the back of his neck, when he brought up his free hand to rub the back of his back there was nothing there. Just pain. When he was about to continue to eat he looked down to see what he had left and when he was bringing it to his mouth the piece of meat formed a mouth saying the following words; "Move and you die". What a weird thing for a piece of meat to say, well I guess anything it said would have been weird since cooked meat well ... shouldn't talk.

 Simon woke up from his dream and since he had an amazing dream of succulent meat his stomach let out a loud, very audible growl. After he could take his mind off of his stomach he felt the same pain in the same spot of his neck. Since the pain was the same he feared that soon he would hear a voice calling out the same phrase that the meat spoke to him but nothing came. He strained his ears to see if he could hear a voice momentarily but instead he thought he heard what he thought was breathing however he couldn't be sure since he was drawing in breath also. Simon for a brief moment held his breath to see if he could hear any besides his own, and he could very slow controlled breathing right behind him. Simons heart started racing, he wasn't going to hear someone say repeat what the venison had said. The person behind him was the one that spoke it during his dream.

 Simon decided that he didn't want to die in a unfamiliar cave lying on the ground, in the dark with no glasses on unable to see his predator. Given this cray forest who knows what could be behind him, it could be a miniature sized person with a rapier or a syringe. Anything was possible at the moment since he didn't hear the voice of his captor. He figured that he would obey the order and not move but speak instead. "Please don't kill me, I got lost after it became dark. I will leave your land upon first days light.

[Assistant]
She sat hunched over, chewing slowly with her eyes trained on the wooden table. Robin paid little attention as MC burst in the room and urged her to leave; the food was too warm, the drink was too soothing, and her mind was too full to react quickly.

She reached for the loaf of bread to her right, as MC stood behind her, tense and ready to flee. As her fingers brushed the crust of the bread, it disappeared. Robin blinked and snapped back to attention, watching the young girl who she had seen at the clearing scarf down the loaf and take a swig of the pitcher. Crumbs flew and hit Robin in the face as she watched incredulously, regaining lucidity. How could she have been so inattentive?

Robin leapt to her feet and put a hand on MC's shoulder, nodding gratefully.

Unsettled by her lack of attention, Robin wanted to leave the copy of her home as quickly as possible. As she looked at the girl, she knew that she would be no threat and patted MC on the shoulder before heading out of the building. Any longer in the place so similar to home, Robin would have become nauseous.

She stood outside and walked back to the riverbank, where she could observe the building and decided to wait briefly for MC, and thought about her next plan of action.


[System]
Age: 38
Race: Half Elf
Weapon: Whip, Musket Rifle (or any other gun he can pick up)
Magic: N/A
Personality Traits:
Dominant-
* Charisma
Weakest-
* Strength
Appearance:
Looks-

Adventure Gear-

Jericho is what many would consider a bard. He can often be seen playing an instrument of some kind, or telling a tale for coin. After hearing the king's offer, Jericho made his way to the outpost, looking for a good story, and some loot never hurt.

Jericho's favorite weapon is his whip. It may not be very damaging, but he can use it to grapple opponents/items, and he can use it as a climbing/swinging tool if needed. He carries a rifle, and is always trying to find ways to improve it. He is skilled with most firearms, as he prefers to fight at a range instead of up close. Last, he also carries a book full of old stories, and tales he has written himself.

Jericho cannot naturally cast a spell, like a wizard or battle mage, but if he has a scroll or object of power, he can follow the instructions well enough to get something going, usually. The same can be said for potion making.

[User]
Akono smiled widely, clapping the smaller man on the shoulder in what was meant to be a friendly gesture, but was perhaps a bit too forceful. "The best melee... I like this title! Perhaps I should introduce myself this way, no?" He shook his head, chuckling to himself, making more out of the comment than in really deserved.

"I'll be honest with you, Necromancer. I wasn't sure about you when I saw you approaching. I don't think much of meddling with the dead. But then, you seem a decent sort of fellow. Perhaps it is a snap judgement, but I believe we will get on just fine. I'm a good deal less sure about the Elf-Man. He seems far, far too confident by my measure. Anyone as sure of himself as that man is either a fool, or dangerous. Or, in this case, perhaps both." The dark giant mused idly, his intent less to speak his mind about the de facto group leader, and more to gauge the Necromancer's opinion of the man, and to test how willing the slim magicworker was to speak openly and confide in a near-stranger.

"Here. Let me pay for a drink for you. Then, with ale in our stomachs, good cheer will come easily, I think. The pretentious Elf-Man may be more willing to put up with our presence if he believes we are getting on well." He waved for a mug of the tavern's home brew, then shook his head with a long-suffering look as he sent the buxom serving girl back to fetch a larger mug. She returned with an enormous flagon, better-suited to serving a table than one man. Akono smiled widely, a fearsome, yet cheery sight, and pushed a thick coin down the bar to her, adding "That should cover it, and whatever my friend here wants." He placed particular emphasis on the word "friend", punctuating it with another good-natured, if painful clap on the shoulder.

[Assistant]
Enduring the force that Akono had placed on his shoulder, Vlad's face started to shift to red, but the mask has covered most of his facial expression. Looking at the action Akono just did, Vlad raises his mug. "Maybe this is going to be a good adventure for both of us, and for the new friend that I just make."

"Hey, barkeep. Give me the best food that you can afford in this place. This should cover what my friend and I want." Placing five coins alongside the table, looking at Akono. "As I believe, we both are human. And human like us can do nothing before having a full meal."

Suddenly, a loud noise can be heard throughout the whole bar, echoing in everyone head, and shutting down any conversation in there. Through the window, Vlad saw a hulking beast is on the top of the castle and screaming. Fill with awe and excitement or maybe feared, many people run outside the bar to have a better view of the beast. But not Vlad, who is sitting there, murmuring to himself, before drinking his ale. "So I believe, our signal was given, and the wheel of fate had begun to roll. " Outside, voices between people debating about this adventure started to rise, like a smoke signal for death to come.

[User]
Akono smiled at the offer of food, but said nothing, enjoying his beverage. At the "both human" comment, he remarked "Aye. Hardly something worth mentioning, were you to ask me, but aye." He returned to his drink, draining it with a fervor that was almost concerning. As he set the enormous pitcher down to take a breath, a monstrous screeching rent the air. The singularly cacophonous sound snapped the bondsman back into the reality that was the impending mission, and he left his drink at the bar in favor of retrieving the trunk-like club that rested against the back wall. He hefted the massive weapon up onto one shoulder, then nodded to the Necromancer and stepped outside, eyes searching for the source of the screeching sound.

He eventually did sight the source of the sound, as well as the apparent leader of the little party, as well as a young woman who he didn't recognize. He strode over to the two, acknowledging them, but saying nothing. He hefted his club down from his shoulder, resting the brass-bound head on the street. The handle leaned against his bulky chest, and he used one hand to keep it steadied. Finally, he spoke.

"Jericho. Who's the woman? She part of our crew, or just hanging around in hopes of catching your eye?" He didn't make any attempt to address the woman herself. If she was worth his attention, she'd make it clear. He broke the tense moment with a grin, and a jovial "Kidding, miss. It's a pleasure to meet you, of course. I'm Akono. Anyone know why the beast up there showed up? Any town guardsmen to deal with it?"

[Assistant]
"It's making itself known." Jericho said, not taking his eyes off the creature, watching as it made its way into a hole in the roof of the castle. "It wants us to know it exists, that it's going to hunt us down." He said, then finally looked at the two.

"She is with us. And we are leaving. Now." He said, going to the door. "If that thing is the main predator of the city, its resting. Which means it'll be awake by the time everyone else comes to town. Aka, free, easy, breakfast." He said, opening the door. "If we leave now, we'll have a better chance of hiding once it is awake." He walked into the bar.

"If you are traveling with me, get your things. I'm going to grab my bag and rifle, then taking off." He shouted, then went to the room he had rented.

"No refunds on the room." The barkeeper said.

"That's fine." He told him, going to his room and gathering his gear. He then grabbed his rifle, putting it in its holster on his back, then heading back down. He gave the barkeep a waterskin, nodding.

"Feel it up." He said, putting some money down.

[User]
"I can do many things," Raven replied after shapeshifting, taking on Jericho's appearance and voice to sound exactly like him. But she could only do that with individuals she'd come across, not complete strangers. Nonetheless, that little detail didn't matter much and she didn't feel the need to disclose it. It was after a deafening screech the Raven resumed her normal appearance. She couldn't lie to herself, she was quite startled.

"Well, isn't that a surprise..."

As the two of them stared, a pair of traveling companions walked up to them, one whom she could have sworn had been inside talking to Jericho right after she had paid for her drink.

"The pleasure is all mine, Akono," Raven smiled once Jericho went back inside the bar. "I'm Raven, yet another person tagging along...hope you don't mind."

[Assistant]
*After some time has passed*

Jericho looked at the wall around the city. It had been built to protect the town many years before any of them had been born, but now acts like a barrier to protect the safe from the infected. For how long, was anyone's guess.

Jericho kept walking along the wall, looking for a way to get in. "Try to keep up. I don't want to lose you guys. Not yet anyway." He said, then stopped, seeing some light, coming near the wall.

It was a group of looters, nothing they couldn't handle, if it came to that. They were pushing a few crates out of the town, using a hole in the wall. "Hurry up! We are too close to the church. I don't want the blood whore to find us!" One said, as the other nodded.

"Did you see what she did to Samuel? She had her servants just rip him apart! Then she just let them have their way with her, right there in the blood! The gods have forsaken this land!" One looter cried. He was rocking back and forth by the wall, shaking in fear.

"Hush kid! We all knew the risk when we went in there! But just think. We only have to split this three ways now. More for each of us!" Said the "leader" of the group.

Jericho looked back at the group following him. "So, what do you think? We can try to talk to them, see if they'll just let us go through the hole. Or we can wait till they leave." He said. "Or, you know, kill them."

[User]
"I vote for killing." Looking behind to see three skeletons hauling a huge amount of supplies containing foods, water, and camping supplies, Vlad chuckles a little bit before looking to the "leader". " I can feel my power getting stronger the closer we are to the city. Even though it is weak for now, but my power is truly getting stronger."

Pausing for a moment to find a reason for the group to kill these looters, the only reason that Vlad could find is to experiment his empowered magic. But it was only his reason for doing so, not the group primary's objective. They might get injured, and after all, Vlad didn't know them very well. But Vlad needs to experiment his power, or else the next time he got is going to be in a desperate situation.

Trying to make his speech to become more of a recommendation, rather than an order, Vlad continues his reason for doing so. "My power is getting stronger when in this area. Even though I still not know for what reason, but the art of necromancy seemed to empowered in this area. So I need to test this before it is too late. For I don't know what is the next situation I will test my power at, so here is the best for me. "

Pausing a moment to see the group facial reaction, Vlad continues. "Of course, you guys can choose not to. After all, the noise of the battle might pull some unnecessary attention."

[Assistant]
"You're as welcome as any of us, Raven. Here's hoping that our slapdash group works together alright. I'd hate to have to be watching my back every moment of every day." He put on a less-aggressive tone. "Let's hope that it doesn't come to that. I'm a trusting fellow, so long as there's nothing too unquestionably odd about someone. Like, say, the ability to raise the dead." He shuddered slightly. The big man wasn't easily scared, but the idea of necromancy unnerved him to no end. It was a relief, at least, to hear that this particular dead-raiser was at least partly devoted to the concept of life.

Akono stepped back slightly at the words of the necromancer. "Damn, man. I'm all for fighting in general, but you're talking about using living people as test subjects. I'm a damn sight more comfortable with just bashing their heads in and being done with it. I'm glad that you're feeling powerful and all, but these are human lives we're talking about. I thought you were a student of life as much as death magic. Can't we just either kill them and get out of here, or hurry away? Every moment that we waste here is adding to the lead that any other party might have over us."

He frowned wearily, and looked to the part-elvish de facto leader, an action which was becoming uncomfortably habitual. "Well, Jericho? It's up to you. I'm satisfied with going in mace-a-swinging, but if you give the order, I'm sure we could take advantage of our slight lead, rather than wasting it with discussion." His meaty hand tensed slightly on the leather-wound handle of the ironwood club, muscles readied for either choice, violent or not.

[User]
"I believe that the less risky move is waiting," Raven chimed in, creeping up next to Jericho to take a better look at the bandits. "From the sounds of it, it doesn't look like we'll have to wait long, if that's something you're okay with," she continued, shrugging her shoulders. The main reason Raven gave such opinion was because of an old friend. "Do not engage unless you need to," he had said to her. While his statement did carry some truth to it, Raven didn't always necessarily follow his advice. She had been an instigator one too many times before, enough to make him shake his head in disapproval if he were to be around. But their situation was a little different now.

Raven looked around at her teammates. They appeared to be a decent crowd judging entirely on a superficial basis. "But if the majority agrees to make an offensive move, then I'm more than okay with that," she said, taking a few steps back to address the group. "They're outnumbered as it is, and they won't see us coming."

Raven tried not to smile. She loved a good, fair fight, but sometimes getting that easy win was too exhilarating to pass up. Besides, it's not like she was the one to suggest that the group go after them.

[Assistant]
Jericho rubbed his eyes. "Fine, I'll make the decision." He muttered, grabbing his rifle, and started aiming at the looters. "Its one shot only, so you guys be ready to fight while I reload." He said, aiming for one guy. He started to slow his breathing, getting ready to pull the trigger, when the screams started.

The young looter shot up, trying to swat the rats off him. They came out of nowhere, just raining down on the poor kid. Everyone could only watch as the rats started to rip his flesh off the to eat it. The other two looters took off running, leaving their friend, and treasure, behind.

"Holy fuck." Jericho muttered, then aimed for the kid's head, pulling the trigger. He couldn't save the idiot, but he could put him out of his misery. The rats went about eating their meal, before running back into the city.

"Interesting." He muttered, reloading his rifle. "A large hole in the wall, an easy way out of the city, yet they go right back into the town. Why is that?" He asked, mostly to himself, but wouldn't be upset by any of their suggestions.


[System]
Legacy: Neutron

WW II Predecessor: Nathaniel Tyron
Alias: Fission

Relationship to Predecessor: Great-Grandson

Age: 18

Powers/Skills/Equipment:
Lacking a physical form, Fission is a sentient cloud of nuclear energy, furiously unstable and with the tendency to explode, he is contained in a hazmat suit of his own creation, allowing him to release controlled amounts of his own unstable form to serve as weapons or to give him flight. Even without emitting radiation, Fission strikes with the power of a nuclear blast.

Even if his suit is destroyed, Fission is still dangerous, if not moreso, as immediately after he is freed, the contained nuclear energy is released in a massive nuclear blast that doesn't even harm the man himself. Able to inhabit any hazmat suit he desires, Fission can easily reconstruct his own suit should it be destroyed.

Weaknesses:
Fission is not very intelligent, and is very, very, insane. His powers are also quite incontinent, though he is able to control them to an extent. Fission is containable, and if he is contained long enough, he will fade and stop existing.

Predecessor's History:
Born in Brookford, Virginia, Nathaniel Tyron showed patriotism from a young age, joining the US army voluntarily soon after he graduated college with a chemistry doctorate, his interest in the field serving more as a hobby than anything else.

Nathaniel ended up serving in invasions of Pacific islands, where he witnessed horrible death and destruction, even feeling sorry for his Japanese opponents, despite this, he pushed onward, fighting ever harder.

Eventually, during one such battle, he suffered multiple shots from a Japanese machine gun, wounded horribly, he was sent to Hawaii where his condition stabilized and actually improved slightly, the American military, searching for candidates to serve as empowered heroes, decided that Nathaniel was the most suitable candidate for a special project they had been planning, due to his stable condition and extreme patriotism.

Going through a multitude of treatments and surgeries, Nathaniel was grafted with a miniature prototype nuclear reactor inserted into his chest, one of the first products of the Manhattan Project's secret super-human branch. With the nuclear power sent around his body using crude piping inserted into his limbs, Nathaniel became able to fire nuclear energy from his arms, legs, and face, as well as having the ability to serve as a nuclear bomb should it ever become necessity.

Unstable and always one step away from death, Nathaniel embraced his new form, serving in the invasion of Okinawa to great renown with the new name of Neutron.

However, once the war ended, Nathaniel's nuclear reactor suffered a catastrophic failure and began leaking radiation into his body, it was discovered that the integrity of the reactor was failing, and meltdown was near imminent. With only weeks left, the former Neutron boarded a submarine, giving one last goodbye to his wife and infant son, he boarded the craft and left in a small vessel, drifting away into the Pacific Ocean. Radio contact was lost an hour after he left the submarine, and the crew reported hearing an enormous bang, followed by immense waves, until contact was lost with them too, expected due to the EMP produced, operators in Washington waited for hours for the radio to turn back on, only for silence.

Nathaniel's last recorded words were a somber "God bless the USA."

BRIEF Bio:

Born in Virginia, Paul Tyron was named after the christian Saint Paul, with elder brothers Nathaniel the Third and Peter, and one younger brother by the name of John.

Paul was always told of his Great-Grandfather's virtue and heroism, and Paul grew to be a patriot in his own right, unfortunately, he had been born into the rule of the Fourth Reich, growing up under a rule which he hated and which deliberately attacked American culture at every turn.

Paul grew up a troubled child, with insane episodes and seizures leaving him a sickly and crazed wreck who was trapped in a body slowly dying of cancer. Paul dropped out of high school and decided to spend the last years of his life fighting the German regime, he had nothing to lose, for he was set to die anyway.

Robbing from a multitude of government subsidies and assaulting high ranking officials, Paul was burgling from a nuclear power plant, stealing from right next to the facility's core, when it suffered a catastrophic meltdown and detonated in a massive fireball.

Thought vaporized by the explosion, Paul emerged a small, sentient, fallout cloud. Having been at the very epicenter of the explosion, Paul was confused as to how he was alive, eventually realizing the truth, and going completely mad.

Discovering that the meltdown had been deliberately caused by the Fourth Reich in an attempt to clear up loose ends, Fission entered a hazmat suit and sought out those responsible, killing them all and developing his own suit in the style of Master Man. Fission, now secure in his own power, set off on a quest to free America, and kill all those who walked in front of him.

[User]
(With assistance from @The Kid Lantern)

The opening attack hit its mark, and the speedster was temporarily stunned. Emphasis on "temporarily", for the speedster was back on his feet in mere moments. He then literally ran circles around them, until the force of his running began to suck away the air, leaving only a temporary vacuum within the vortex the Speedster created.

The robot was, of course, completely uneffected. The metahuman he was attempting to rescue, on the other hand, was not so fortunate. Atom's CPU calculated a dangerously short time before the metahuman would die of asphyxiation. Even before the air began to leave the area, Atom's internal computer was already calculating a precise attack that could stop the speedster in his tracks. All it required was a moment to charge up the Atomic Cannon. That, however, would not guarantee the survival of the fire-type metahuman, as there was no guarantee that the Atomic Cannon could charge fully before he suffocated to death.

Adhering to the First Law, Atom reached a robotic hand over to his current comrade and firmly but gently grabbed their shoulder, "Thrusters: full throttle." and with that command, his own jet boosters rocketed the pair straight upward. The vacuum the Speedster created worked like a tornado, appearing like a funnel of wind with a single clear opening straight up, which was where the two flew to.

The Speedster's vortex pulled Atom down like an intensified gravitational pull, but Atom didn't need to fully escape, just get far enough that his metahuman compatriot could breath once more and escape on their own. The robot himself was at no risk, having no lungs that required oxygen was one of the "perks" of being a machine in this situation.

"Thanks for the assist. Is that somebody else floating toward the super Nazi?" asked the Torch still being held in the air by the machine man.

Moments later the armored nuclear man struck at the speedster with power and precision. What happened next was the metahuman equivalent of a chicken running around with it's head cut off. The body zigged and zagged and finally ran into a building and fell to the ground.

Atom's scanners detected the death of the speedster, "Target: terminated." he reported, though not really to the Torch. In fact it wasn't that hard to tell that the robot was in contact with someone else during the whole affair.

[Assistant]
Thunderclap started to move from the shadows when he heard Torch speaking in clean American English to the robot. It pretty well illuminated who was who in this conflict, now it was time to help out. However, before Miles had half a chance to react the robot grabbed the torch by the shoulder and took off. They were just as quickly replaced by someone else, who dealt a death blow to the Nazi speedster. His body ricocheted around a few times before fu ally running out of momentum in front of Thunderclap.

"You're an American, I take it?" Miles asked through his mask. If it came to questioning if he was, it would be simple enough to prove, he would simply take off his helmet and expose his dark brown skin. Being anything but perfect Aryan pretty much proved you weren't a Nazi. Challenged or not, he would introduce himself, "I go by Thunderclap, pleasure to meet you."

[User]
The magical energies that twisted around Robert's body slowly dissipated as his form returned to Earth, sparks of energy fading back into the Veil. The first thing he noticed was the thick smell of smoke, his nostrils flaring as the harsh odour tore at the back of his throat. He found himself atop an apartment building, facing a red brick wall with a metal door bent off the hinges to his side. Turning around filled Draig's heart with sorrow. Burnt out buildings, smoldering rubble and corpses lay out as far as he could see. The thick plumes of smoke rose into the air, darkening the midday sky.

"What is this?..." he spoke to himself. "Why would anyone do this?"

There was a thunderous roar overhead as two fighter bombers flew by towards the outskirts of the city. A trail of bright explosions were left in their wake as they bombarded the ground below, decimating several office buildings. Nothing much was left beyond burning rubble, anyone who was inside was surely dead.

"This has to stop!"

As he shouted, the sounds of nearby screams and gun fire caught his attention. Robert clenched his fists tights as he set off at a quick pace. He pounced from the edge of the building sending himself hurtling towards the ground below. Often Robert would make the most of his abilities, throwing in some flair with mid air somersaults and such. This time though, he just wanted to get to the fighting as quickly as possible. Too many people had already died

As he hit the solid concrete below, it cracked outwards from where his foot drove into it. Robert did not break stride however, pushing forward, he propelled himself with his supernatural strength. The wind licked at his face as he moved, his hair trailing behind him wildly. As he rounded a corner his momentum took him through the burnt out remains of an overturned school bus. Luckily there were no skeletal remains within the smouldering husk, meaning all the children had made it to safety.

The sound of fighting was now very close, smoke trails from missiles shot from the next junction followed by the flailing bodies of American soldiers getting launched through the air. The sounds of screams soon outnumbered the gunfire before there was nothing left but the sound of roaring flames. Robert stopped still as he reached the junction, stunned by the horrifying destruction before him. It was then he spotted the cause of the devastation, a creature floating menacingly above several bodies of US soldiers. The expressions etched on the faces of the deceased showed the torture and pain they had felt before their demise. The creatures back was to Robert, but in a ghostly voice in spoke to him.

"Guten Nachmittag! I see the United States have decided to send someone...more...than a mere soldier..." The ethereal voice spoke straight into the mind of Draig, echoing with each word spoken. "Alas mein Waliser freund, you have only come here to die..."

Behind Robert there was the sound of creaking metal, before he turned his body, slamming his fist straight through a car that shot through the air towards him.

"Interesting...you have some talent..." The creature turned to face him, reaveling it daemonic visage. "In Deutschland they call me Die Folter...to you that is The Torture..."

"I couldn't care less who you are. All I know is that you'll be dead soon."

The mouth of Folter moved for the first time, transforming its expressionless mouth into a horrifying grin.

"Ah poor, misguided Yankee slave...my powers of Telekinesis are unmatched. I can move buildings with a simple thought, I can flay minds faster than..."

Before the thought could be finished, Draig had closed the distance and drove his fist straight into the crowned head of Folter. Ivory white teeth shattered into dust and blood sprayed the ground as it's jaw disintegrated from the power of the blow. There was a terrifying howl as the German operative flew backwards into the wall behind. As Folter's back smashed into the concrete wall, its bones audibly cracked, before it's body fell limp to the floor. Robert walked over, side stepping around the remains of the dead US soldiers.

"How...can...this..."

Draig stood above the crumpled mass of shattered bone and flesh as it shuddered through pain and fear. He could feel the creature attempting to attack his mind with psychic force but his ties to the Veil made it easy for him to block it out. Robert reached behind his back and drew one of his daggers, the mirror like blade reflecting the dancing flames of a nearby car. He took a knee and stared at the bloodied hole where Folters jaw once was.

"You and your kind will rue the day you stepped foot outside of your rotten country."

Robert grabbed the bone like crown atop Folters head and with one rage filled strike, drove the dagger into the roof of it's mouth. One last ear shredding cry filled the air before all the life left Folter's body. When he removed the blade a thick purple smoke began to form around Folter's body. It ran from head to toe, covering every inch before finally evaporating. The daemon looking visage of Folter had gone, leaving a jawless corpse dressed in a black German uniform. The hole left from the dagger poured blood down the front of the Germans uniform, before pooling underneath the mishapen body.

[Assistant]
Staring at his hand a moment, glancing at what remained of the speedster's head, which was splattered across the ground and upon his boots, Paul spat. He hadn't expected his fist to just travel through the man's head like it was a water balloon, and the man's speed was so incredible he himself doubted that he would hit in the first place.

Turning to the speedster's headless body, Fission lifted an arm and detonated the body with a single blast in a final act of disrespect to the Nazi son of a bitch. After a moment staring, Paul stomped the ground and roared out a string of profanities, most of which focusing on the man's mother, Hitler, the man's relation to Hitler, and Hitler's mother.

"...And it'd better be a big net!" He finished with another stomp, a pillar of energy shooting out the back of his helmet as he let out the last word, the energy subsiding once the new black-clad hero spoke. Turning with a frown, Paul snorted in a mocking fashion at the man's costume, it seemed a little too... German to him, but the man certainly didn't sound German. He turned to the others.

"You two alright? And I'd better not hear 'danke' or 'jawohl'!" He yelled out, turning his head to the other one last time, though scowling, he managed to hold out a hand to gesture as he spoke.

"I'm American, yes, what's with the code-name? Something you're hiding there? Whatever, if you are German, there's nothing you can do to me, I'm Paul, but they call me Fission," he stated, without a clarification as to who "they" were, before turning away and clasping his hands in front of his thighs.

"Oh, and you might want to back up a bit, I'm kinda new at this whole 'being made of nuclear explosions' thing." He said, smiling.


[System]
Nickname: Jabber or Phazer
Age: Doesn't know, doesn't care
Gender: Male, usually
Species: Shapeshifter, natural form, Jabberwocky
Abnormality: He's a shape shifting nightmare, and can phaze though matter at will. (Like Flash)
Other: Sunlight burns him, and he fears vorpal (Magically sharp) weapons.
Room #: (To be decided later)
Appearance(s):

[User]
Joey was standing in front of the building, taking a good look at it before heading inside to find his room. It didn't take him long since he was in room 1. He entered the room once he found it. He chose the other side of the room. His dog, Ash was sitting next to the window, watching him as he sat on the bed.

---

Price walked inside the building and went down the corridor of bedrooms. He stopped at room 20 and went inside. After choosing his side of the room, he sat on the bed and placed his guitar beside him.

[Assistant]
The alarm clock was well past noon. Or, well, probably anyways. If it was even set correctly in the first place. Though he was only halfway on the bed, Daymienne was soundly passed out. He twitched a little in his sleep and muttered something. It wasn't until the sunlight from the window became an intense glare on his face that he finally opened his eyes. The daemon continued to lay there for several moments, remaining motionless. He debated back and forth about whether he should go back to sleep or if he wanted to get up. He raised his head and looked over at the other shape in the bed,

"Hey, Kludd, is today the first day or was that yesterday? Maybe it was tomorrow. Actually, I don't even know," He stretched and scooted over closer to his boyfriend.

[User]
Kludd had been awake, but just barely. He'd been up for a while, but having to climb over Daymienne to get up sounded like too much work, so he'd just been laying there, still half asleep. Suddenly the mostly lifeless form beside him decided to stir, and Daymienne asked him a question that he absolutely could not figure out the meaning of.

"...What?" Was the only thing he could manage as a response. He rolled onto his side and wrapped an arm and a wing around Daymienne.

[Assistant]
Kassandra stepped into the school with nothing but a jug of water and a few sets of clothes. She weaved around other people as she tried to follow the map she was sent. "Let's see. 13.... 14... 15, aha." She unlocked her door with the old-looking key, and stepped inside. One side of the room looked like a normal bedroom. The other side had a pool set into the floor, and she could smell the clean saltwater.

"How nice for someone to think of me." She set down her things, debated going for a brief rest but thought against it. Then she locked up her room and went to wander the grounds.

[User] Phazer walks inside the mansion, and begins looking for the desk to get a key.

[Assistant] Daymienne rolled his eyes, "I was asking if today was the first day for the new kids at the mansion," he smiled as he noticed Kludd had wrapped his wing around him, "but you obviously don't care about the new kids, judging how you didn't realize they were coming."

[User] "I just didn't know what you were asking," he mumbled, moving to press himself even closer to Daymienne, "you just asked if it was the first day- the first day of what? Could have been anything. How was I to know?"

[Assistant] Phazer stretches, and begins changing his form, twisting into a large black monster.

[User] Kassy was still wandering, looking for someone to talk to. It was strange to be among so many other exiles. Maybe here, among those who had been tossed out, she could find peace.

[Assistant] He looks up at Kassy, and twists his form into that of a tall, well dressed teen, with dark, almost black eyes.

[User] Kassy looked at the strange creature who stood before her, and watched him (him?) twist into a human form. "Ooh, that's a lovely trick. I am doing something a bit like that. What's your name?"

[Assistant] He hisses slightly, like a bad lisp. "Phazzzer." He licks his lips, trying to get used to that from of speaking. "My. Name is. Phazer."

[User] Kassy took notice of his odd speech, but ignored it. There were supposed to be all types in this mansion, after all. "Hi Phazer. I'm Kassandra." She wasn't quite sure what to say, having no one to talk to where she came from. "Are you excited to be here?"

[Assistant] He nods. "Sorry for my. Broken speech. Thisss isn't my language."

[User]
Joey decided to come out of his room and wander the halls.

---

Price was still in his room, softly playing his guitar.

[Assistant]
Dragon

Kassy nods a bit. "That's okay. I understand." She smiled brilliantly. "I wonder where they keep the food here."

[User] He begins rippling again, and turns into a creature much like a dog, but huge, and he begins smelling around for food.

[Assistant] "Oh, that really is wonderful that you can do that. I Can only take one extra form and it's not that impressive." Kassy watched him sniff around.

[User] He turns into a tall shadow.

[Assistant] Kassy craned her neck to look at him. "Ooh! What is this form for?"

[User] "Stealth for the most part."

[Assistant] "I see." Kassy willed her illusions, and just like that, she disappeared. "I'll be stealthy with you."

[User] He drifts into a shadow, and vanishes. "Want to expler?" He pauses, confused. "Explory? Explori? What was that word...?"

[Assistant] "The word is explore." Kassy said helpfully, her voice coming from nowhere. "And yes, I would."


[System]
Gill looks like a humanoid fish who dresses like a nobleman from the Victorian era and wears a crimson red frock coat. He is about 5 feet and nine inches tall. His is lean when it comes to his body type. He regularly uses a pipe to smoke and won't be see dead in public without looking like a gentleman.

Species: Aquarian
Age: 32
Gender: male
Hero/Villain/Neutral: hero
Weapons/Powers: he has a Sabre

Amphibian: He can breath underwater and out of water as well.

Superhuman Strength: thanks his ability to move at incredible speeds underwater, Gill has the strength to lift 10 tons.

Superhuman Durability: His skin is thick enough to survive at incredibly deep levels of the ocean and its insane amount of pressure. This allows him to take hits that could be deadly to normal humans.

Aquatic Biology Mimicry: Gill can alter his biology to match those of all marine lifeforms and thus grants him a form of shape-shifting. He can make his skin match the texture of one or more aquatic animals and can morph his body or parts of it into certain sea creatures. This can range from growing shark teeth on his arms to making his skin be able to sting like a jellyfish. This ability also grants him the ability to utilize skills and talents of all aquatic animals.

Aquatic Command: He can communicate and command marine life through brain waves.

Detective skills: Despite his wide array of powers, Gill's main ability that he likes to utilize is his deductive reasoning and detective skills. He is always trying to find a mystery to solve.

Swordsman: he is very skilled with his sabre.

Boxing: he is a really good boxer.

Personality: Despite his weird appearance Gill is a gentlemen and quite the intellectual. He is extremely well read and is a linguist, which helped him learn several languages in matter of months upon his arrival in this dimensional. He is very observant and likes to see every detail in the environment that he is in, he also has a great memory. It is because of this that his detective skills are so good and he prides himself in his ability to solve cases. Because of his intellectual personality, Gill tends to over explain things and tries to not keep things simple.

He is rather laid back when not out doing heroics and regularly smokes to calm himself. He believes that keeping a calm and open mind is the best pathway to success. He has a fascination for history, theology and the study of the occult. As a detective he considers himself an investigator of the occult, but will also solve murder and other normal criminal cases. Gill has a love for fiction and loves to collect books for his library. His favorite authors are J.R.R Tolien, HP Lovecraft, Edgar Allen Poe, Joseph Campbell and C.S. Lewis

History: In another dimension where fish humanoids were the dominant species of the earth, Gill was a nobleman who lived a life of luxury and was developing his detective skills. It was not long until his fascination of the occult led him to investigate the case of a string of murders that had connections to the cult of an ancient demon. After getting several leads and doing his research into the history of the cult, the mystery led him to a fishing town that wasn't what it seemed to be.

The entire village was part of the cult and had been committing sacrificial murders to try and bring the demon into the world. They had begun the final ritual, but Gill and the federal bureau intervened and stopped them before it was too late. Unfortunately in the process of stopping the ritual a strange otherworldly energy came from the circle where the ritual was being performed and Gill was sucked into the hole that was formed from it.

He was pulled through time and space and was flung into our dimension. In the process Gill had his body altered thanks to the energy and found that he now possessed incredible powers. Since the world he was now in was full of humans and no Aquarians, Gill had to hide until he could find his a way to integrate into society. he found an old abandon mansion and fixed the place up and began to use his detective skills to get money.

After learning how to use his powers better Gill became a superhero and used his detective skills to help others in trying find the truth and see justice done.

Weakness: Although he is perfectly fine staying out of water for long periods of time, it is very easy for him to become dehydrated in hot environments and once dehydrated Gill's strength greatly decreases. Oil is very toxic to him if he comes into contact with it.
Other: (Theme Song, Voice, etc, Optional)

[User]
Tales

Boris turned his attention to the fish looking man who had just appeared saying something about going to look at the body. Boris didn't much like being ignored as he was in charge of the Yandere Killer case anyways.

"Your the fish detective we called up right? Good, was wondering when you would get here." Boris looked at the pipe he had. Boris had been trying to quit smoking recently and he was doing pretty well with having gone about 3 weeks without a smoke.

"Would you mind putting that out? I've been trying to quit and seeing others smoke doesn't help." Boris said looking at the pipe.

"Anyways you wanna head out to my car? I'm about to get down there anyways, Ryia refuses to take the car and I would not recommend flying with her." Boris added as he pointed his thumb back to his car which surprisingly enough, was a minivan. He claimed that he preferred minivans because of it being spacious but in truth, he had a daughter. He wasn't married, he was actually divorced his daughter being that of his ex-wifes, and he still took care of the girl when he had the chance.

When they got to the scene of the crime eventually they would find a woman with out arms, she had the feet of a harpy, and but she was missing her winged arms. She had cloths on still and a note. It was obvious that she had been dropped from the roof and she had a stab wound in her chest.

alluna
 As Mia bumped into the lady she had dropped her knife. She bet over to pick it up. A few men turned around to look at her but as they did so. "Sorry about that ma'am." Mia said as slid the butchers knife back into it's holder on her leg hidden by her skirt. Mia continued on until a few men appeared to stop her. Each one of them looked like they were in a gang. "Hey pretty lady why don't you come hang with us huh? It'll be fun." One of them said with a smirk on his face. Mia looked at him and gave a sweet smile. "Sure why not? I could use some stress relief!" Mia said as she followed the gang into the alley way. Anyone could tell that this was going to be trouble. For one or both parties.

[Assistant]
Tales
Ryia Draconarch

Ryia looks over to see Gill approaching them, who happened to also be part of H.A.M.S.S, wanting to join the fray as well. She politely nods at the Aquarian. Yet as the two were discussing about the whole smoking opinion, the dragongirl began to accidentally release some smoke of her own. Thankfully, this was natural smoke that would come out of her mouth, especially when she is breathing fire, and had zero traces of tobacco, must none of the less unfitting for this situation. She quickly covers her mouth, hoping the two didn't see her.

"Excuse me." she says as she fakes a cough to her side.

Later...

They would quickly head over to the site of the crime, where they found the ravaged body of the harpy, with an ominous note saying:

"Let this be a lesson to all who try to steal my senpai."

"Jeez..." Ryia says after reading, "It's no surprise that this Yandere Killer has severe psychotic problems... I hope this is a monster we're dealing with, otherwise we'll be in a tight pickle. Even through H.A.M.S.S has the right for Monsters and human staff to 'peacefully' arrest their opposites, despite the law saying regular citizens cannot harm the opposite species, we need to be careful not to hurt her too much. Otherwise, I might have to call in a human to deal with it.

[User] Where is he... Myrran looked around the Osaka street where she currently stood. It had been a while since she last saw her son, and she didn't have his sense of smell, so she couldn't track him that way. "I probably should have thought this out better." She said aloud, a slight, disappointed frown on her face. "Oh, well."

[Assistant]
Nero Garuhi

Osaka streets

How could Nero not barge in to kill this demonic monster? Looking to how they were surrounding this demon, one area they had not been inclined to protect was the air above them, and if the demon was crafty, that would be the only method of its escape, and thus, Nero sought to cut all available options from the demons escape route plan. Speeding toward the area where the demon laid, Nero unsheathed his High-frequency blade from its sheath once more, a smug smile laid bare on the mans visage, he was going to enjoy ripping the life from this villainous scum. Those who kill innocents didn't deserve the gift of life, the gift of breathe, the gift of safety, they simply deserved the curse of everlasting nothingness. Returned to zero, existence nullification.

Kicking off the seat of his motorcycle, Nero had launched himself up into the air above the target in but a single leap, with no other location left for the demon to go, Nero charged downward in what could be described as a vertical downward corkscrew slash, holding his tachi downward as he attempted to skewer the demon straight from the top of the skull down to the pelvis, his intention being to literally rip their demon to gibs and bits. Fortunately for the demon, the fiend was able to narrowly jump back, at the cost of having its jaw sliced in half like a hot knife through butter as the fleshy gib of meat dropped with a slushy slap against the floor, sizzling from the sheer heat of his sword, the demon shrieked at the loss of its jaw, and intended to swiftly dash forward to attack Nero. What the demon didn't realize was Lysanders dire wolves practically surrounded him, and even if he could attack Nero, his back and his sides would be left open for assault.

Nero desired to make sure Lysander wouldn't be the one missing and sighed when the demon tries to assault him. Nero simply sidestepped gracefully whilst his sword rose upward in a vertical upward slice, in the beginning, nothing seemed to come of the attack, until the demons own hands felt themselves peeling off the very flesh of his fingerbones, until his whole arm up to his elbows melted off into flesh and ash. With a final screech from the demon, Nero smirked and leaped away from the wolves, allowing Lysander to call the order of attack to kill the demon.

[User]
They had fought many demons before; the wolves didn't need Lysander's directions. They knew what to do. Leaping at the demon, Lysander snarled, showing off his teeth before sinking them into the demon. Due to the rather painful distraction Nero created, he was able to grab onto the demon's shoulder, bringing it down with his sheer weight. That was what the pack had been waiting for. Once an enemy was down, they all rushed in for the kill. The screaming demon was buried under a total of eight wolves, and then the screaming stopped. One of the wolves had hit a vital point: the demon was dead.
Pulling back from the kill, the wolves watched it warily. Was this the real one? Or a decoy? They had to be sure. Lysander watched it closely, waiting for the obvious signs. The corpse stayed where it was; it was real. If it was not, it would have shimmered and then exploded into black smoke. Lysander raised his nose to the sky and howled in victory. Answering howls arose from four other parts of the city, some quite close. Now that the hunt was over, the other wolves would rejoin the pack.
Lysander shifted smoothly from wolf to human, standing up as he did so. His wolf skin, draped over his shoulders as always, added an air of menace. "Why are you here?" He asked bluntly. "This was my hunt. My pack and I don't need help." He spit out the word help as if it was a curse. "We were doing fine without you."

[Assistant]
Gill rolled his eyes at Boris' reply and then request to put away his pipe, only the weak willed needed others to give up things so that they felt secure in their surrender of their addictions. He took a smell with enhanced nose and could catch the whiff beer and knew that this man liked his alcohol, it looked like he traded one addiction for another.

"Alright, but let me finish this one" he said as he turned away to finish his last few puffs of the pipe and then put it in his pocket before getting inside the vehicle. Gill could have tried jumping from roof to roof as means of travel thanks to his superhuman strength, but it would be better to conserve his strength in case any sort of bothersome trouble came up.

"I must say, I've never seen a detective drive a minivan in the field. That may not be the wisest of choices if you want respect from the law enforcement or other members of H.A.M.S.S" he said to the detective as they headed for the crime scene. Gill was rather amused by the idea of a detective driving a minivan to a crime scene, by God's wounds they would be quite a sight by the authorities when they got to the murder scene.

When they got to the crime scene and had their first look at the body, Gill's mind was busy processing the scene and picking up as much information as he could from looking at the victim's body. Her arms were gone and upon looking down he saw that she had the feet of a harpy and the cause of death looked to have been a stab wound to the chest. There also seemed to be signs that the body might have been dropped from a good height onto the pavement. He listened to Ryia read the note and was starting to get some idea of what kind of killer they were dealing.

"Whether or not this is a monster we are dealing with, I cannot tell you, but I can tell is that the cause of death was a stab wound probably by a knife and not claws from the look of the clean cut of the wound. Also we may be dealing with a passionate and organized killer with sexual-sadism as their main drive. The use of the word senpai means that the killer has some sort of psychotic obsession with an individual and this poor woman for whatever reason triggered this killer's murderous wrath. The wings are missing, which may mean that the killer probably took them as some kind of trophy. This is normally part of the MO of an organized killer. We need to find DNA samples and investigate the victim and everyone acquainted with her as well as any family she might have, they could give us clues as to who may had a horrible dislike for her. Also we need to find out who this killer's senpai is because they could be the key to finding out who this psychopath is" Gill explained to his two comrades as he made sure to keep a good enough distance away from the body so that no evidence was contaminated.

"When will the crime lab get here?" he asked Boris, hoping to get 'very soon' as an answer.

"Also be careful so that no evidence is contaminated, we may find an answer to who this killer is and if they're even human" he said to them.


[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 let out a long sigh as the Princess relayed the story of what had happened between her and the King. Her eyes lingered on the Princess as she self consciously traced the faded finger marks that wrapped her throat like some obscene necklace. When she saw that, anger flashed in their amber depths and the Lady's jaw clenched tighter. The change in expression made her look very much like her cousin for a second.

"Gods, sometimes I forget what a brute he can be when the mood takes him. My cousin was never noted for his diplomatic prowess, but even for him, this was a foolish mistake. If he was wise, he would be wooing you, not wounding you. But no, to King Ozragad everything must be a fight, a battle, a war. Even when he's trying to end one."

She stood up from where she was sitting and crossed over to the tall narrow windows that looked down from the tower to the palace and the city beyond it. Her fingers grasped the edge of the curtains, pushing it back so she could observe Cirith Anyr in all its strange and solemn glory.

"He sits up here, brooding in his towers, surrounded by all his soldiers, behind his walls." She tutted. "But he's not as strong as he seems. You remember that awful scene when you first came to this city? Ozragad has made many enemies amongst his own people for pursuing peace. I imagine you can also surmise for yourself that peace does not suit his own temperament either. Have you ever wondered then, why he pursues it?"

[Assistant]
Elise felt herself hesitate as Lady Cheldarine caught on, she never expected the woman to take note and realise that her cousin had been a little rough handed with her. Not that it should matter, but Elise didn't what to voice the fact he had been rough with her as she didn't want to appear like some weak little girl. "Wooing me? Please I doubt he would even know how to woo someone nowadays." Sighing softly to herself as she could never imagine this King even start to woo a lady and court them, not that she even wanted it to happen herself.

It was strange hosting this woman, she showed no outward signs of wanting to cause her harm which was refreshing but she still found it hard to trust even though Lady Cheldarine was quite easy to talk too. Elise knew she was merely overthinking everything, but it was hard when even her family didn't seem to care too much about her as their letters spoke of the promise to her brother and this wedding. Not one hint of if she was okay.

Watching as the other woman reached the window, she found herself furrowing her brow as the question was posed to her, something that had crossed her mind her mind briefly, but it passed by without a second thought. "Well… I had considered it, but I guess I just assumed he was pressured for it by the council."

"I'll be brutally honest, my own family and myself included expected this to be a trap and well too good to be true. My father originally threw the offer out to appease the court back home, not for it to be accepted." Leaning forward on her seat as she watched Lady Cheldarine curious to why Ozragad had pursued peace, "Tell me then, why is he pursuing the option of peace? As you say peace doesn't really suit him, not when stories of this fearsome warlord proceeds him."