[System]
Title: The Dark Enigma, The Genius Fool, The Pinpricker

Age: 23

Height: 5'10"

Weight: 170 pounds

Eyes: Very dark brown

Hair: Black and short

Gender: Male

Lineage: Human

Class: Man-at-arms

Side: Silver Shields

Skill: He excels the most with his pole-arm, followed by his hammer, and lastly a sword or dagger, while other weapon types are more foreign to him to use but still knows how to counter them effectively with his own weapons and shield. His physical abilities are mostly balanced with a slight focus on speed. However, if he had to choose anything it would be technique in his fighting that is the best rather than overpowering someone with brute force. He doesn't have many skills outside of combat and would even appear to be quite lost in every day situations besides farming.

Weapon(s): His primary weapon is a pole-arm, more specifically a steel halberd that's 6 feet long. In certain circumstances he may switch to a single handed hammer similar to an English war hammer that is 2 feet long and weighs 1.75 pounds. If not in use then it's attached to his belt at his right side.

He has a tower shield comparable to a Roman scutum, which is a 22 pound large rectangle curved shield made from three sheets of wood glued together and covered with canvas and leather, with a spindle shaped boss along the vertical length of the shield.

Arm Right: Halberd (See above)

Arm Left: Tower shield (See above)

Armor: His primary means of defense is his chainmail whole the rest is leather or padding such as his gambeson.

Helm: Hard Leather helmet without steel. Soft padding underneath.
Shoulders: Chainmail from his chest piece.
Bracers: Leather arm bracers over the sleeves of his gambeson that also has leather gloves.
Chest Piece: chainmail over a gambeson.
Leggings: The chest piece protects his upper thighs and groin. He wears tan breeches.
Greaves: Brown knee high leather boots with good traction.
Emblems: Engraved onto his right bracer.

Background: Born on a farm, he loved to play with sticks with the other children as if fighting with lances and also honing his body to the limit with backbreaking work, although this part wasn't entirely his choice even if he put it to good use. He was clearly meant for greater things than a simple farmer like his parents as his skills with sticks improved, joisting the other kids until they began to cry and not play with him much any more. He didn't understand why they were upset because the whole point of their play fighting was to win, so they should have fought better.

His farming village was raided by bandits one day and he sharpened a thick branch to join in a fight against them. Laughing at him, they didn't take the teenager seriously, only to discover that wood wasn't able to get cut cleanly in two with a single swing as easily as they were imagining. A bronze sword got stuck into the side of the branch after a poor swing and Karvos thrusted forward, goring him in the abdomen with the tip of the branch. The others were startled by the loss of their friend and charged forward but he knocked the right one down with a heavy swing. The other badly wounded him with a stab to the chest, a scar that still persists to this day, but it wasn't fatal and Karvos brought the branch his direction and pierced his eye. By this time reinforcements arrived and drove off or killed the surviving bandits.

Impressed by his handiwork, after he recovered he was hired to be a guard, getting better equipment to fend off even more dangerous and numerous bandits in the future. Eventually he was even hired to protect the prince in the latest conflict, his most dangerous assignment yet, but he was ready and willing to drive off his enemies once again.

[User]
There was a rush of noise, the displacement of air, a shuffling of feet. Phia knew that Gernev would be outnumbered, and despite his skill, would be in need of support. She had confidence that Kirian could handle himself in a duel. She glanced upon her finely made Elven bow, arrow in her hand, gently resting in it's passive state. She could feel it's humble lethality emanating from it, vibrating like it had a mind of it's own. In Phia's mind, the arrows were unique. With their own stories. Each arrow was made by herself, years ago, soaked in enchanted waters and whittled down to perfection. Simple, plain, perfection. A wooden shaft, a piercing tip, and a feathered end. Penetrating armor and bleeding her enemies.

She was leaned against the inner wall of the cart, bracing herself against it, crouching down. She sucked in a quiet breath from underneath her bandana, steadying her hands and face. She pushed off against the wall and turned 180 degrees and side-stepped to look out the window. She pulled her string back and consumed the information that was on the other side of the window. Gernev was locked up with a powerful looking knight. The enemy knight struck her as familiar, perhaps she had read of him, but her mind was already onto the next important thing. Very close nearby, a pole-arm collided with the cart. Her eyes flashed to the source. A man-at-arms, just a short distance away, a prime target. Acting on instinct, she let loose an arrow at the prime target.

It whistled through the air. She did a short whistle along with it.

It would be coming in from his left, almost directly to his left, but an observant man might be able to see it in his peripherals. It should past just above his arm and into his middle-left torso. A painful distraction at the least.

[Assistant]
Nice. His foe had more skill than originally thought to cause him to miss in such a way, but Karvos was still certain that the orc's efforts would be in vain. His primary weapon stuck well and good in the carriage would just put a delay on the inevitable. In the process of plotting his next move against him he caught sight of a swift movement from inside the carriage. It was...an enemy archer. Luckily for Karvos it took less time to simply move his tower shield every so slightly into place than it would to aim effectively at him, causing the arrow to be too late to take advantage of any opening that had previously presented itself during him attacking the orc.

The arrow thumped powerfully into an area near the left of the shield but not powerfully enough to make it completely through, sticking out where it had hit. His normal armor wouldn't be able to stand up to that impressive bow and arrow, so he certainly had to make sure to keep her in mind while he helped fight the orc. Dropping the shield to use both hands to try to un-lodge his halberd would be out of the question for the time being.

Instead he let go of the halberd, moving his hand down to equip himself of his two foot long war hammer as he shuffled forward, keeping his shield raised in the direction of both the archer and the orc, lining them up more together thanks to a slight change in his positioning. He would not be able to get to the confrontation in time to deal with the current exchange of blows between the orc and the knight, but he'd get there for the next should he press his advance.

[User]
A war becomes a duel, a feast for crows becomes a single murder. It was all of this, a glorious clash of steel, blood, sweat, bile, willpower that fed Kirian the Witch Knight.

As he pressed forward, he found his probing strike deflected with all needed deftness. This was unsurprising, given that she'd survived this long in the seige with only one eye. That could very well have been a fatal flaw, and Kirian was well prepared to make good on that. The edge of his blade was deflected outside her guard to Kirian's right side, followed by an arcing slash up towards his face. She may have thought his attack repelled, but his gambit was successful.

Instead of fully retreating, he followed the impact of her parry, ducking down and twisting his right side towards her. To her peril, she'd stepped her right foot well within blade's reach, under an eyesocket without depth perception or peripheral vision. Kirian pivoted low, keeping his grip close to his chest, and used the counter-momentum to rap the inside of her right knee with the last four inches of the flat of his blade. With the torsion of his core behind the strike, it would land as the lady knight's counterattack would have grazed Kirian's face, and just as painfully as a kick. In that window of pain, he'd press his advantage.

Before she had time to pull her sword down, Kirian pushed forward and up with his trailing left leg, angling his sword upward into a modified ox stance. The primary difference would be that instead of pointing his blade forward to level with the centerline, he'd pivot it backward between her arms, as a metal lever behind the heels of her palms. At the same time, he was ramming his shoulder into her diaphragm, just underneath her miniature breastplate. As he'd follow through, he'd complete his turn and push back and outward with his sword. A complicated maneuver, he intended to press his blade roughly against the inside of his opponent's wrists, and bear her heavily back to slam against the side of the carriage.

This assault should wind her further, and part her with her sword through pure physical leverage, if she could surpress the instinct to drop it outright. Even if she did have the presence of mind to pull her guard up to avoid the "grapple", it would bring her center of gravity too far back to resist getting slammed against the carriage. At this range, a hunk of metal like her knife had all the wrong balance. Yes it could be more devastating than a normal sword at the sweetspot of its range, but it would likely be difficult to maneuver without the momentum of the body behind it. At that point, Kirian was close and heavy enough to pin her struggling, and end it with his dagger. A murder settles a battle, a duel settles a war. The lady knight's options had been swiftly severed, and soon her neck would be as well.

[Assistant]
Lars, having hamstrung the orc before him, stepped back with a satisfied grunt. With the orc struggling and the blood pooling beneath him, Lars swung his shield in a vicious swipe to the head of the orc, followed by a boot to the chest.

A grim smile crossed his face momentarily as he heard the arrow thunk the heavy shield of his companion. Whipping around, leaving his back exposed to the other avenue of access, the avenue that the Lady held. Should the Lady be overcome Lars would be exposed to attack, however, he had fleeting faith in the lady's ability to fight. Regardless, Lars raised his shield as he glimpsed some movement inside the carriage.

It was difficult to see who was exactly inside the carriage, however, the fact that they were using a bow in confined quarters might prove to be their downfall. Whatever happened next Lars would begin a systematic exploration of the carriage with his sword.

[User]
And with that, any advantage Phia had vanished along with Gernev's head. Both of her enemies had direct line of sight with her, and their shields were only slightly raised, making it an easy advance into the carriage. She played out a scenario in her mind where her arrows thunked uselessly against the two's protective shields until they stormed the carriage and the man-at-arms bashed her head in and the knight ran her through. A gruesome death her mother would be very disappointed in. She could run out the backside of the carriage, but that would essentially be abandoning Kirian, the battle, and she'd probably end up being killed anyway.

So while her two enemies held their shields like immovable statues that, for now, not be feeling one of her arrows in their eye, she formulated a plan. She had only a short amount of time before her enemies took advantage of the fact that she wasn't firing arrows, so she must hurry. She slung her bow over her shoulder and turned to face the window. She put her back opposite to the window and leaned out backwards, grabbing the small out-cropping that lined the top of the window. She jumped her legs up until they rested on the bottom of the window that Gernev had previously jumped out of, then she extended her hands upward and she latched onto the roof of the carriage. Then it was just a matter of pulling herself up, which she did with relative ease. She rolled onto the roof of the carriage, her tightly crafted quiver keeping the arrows in place. So, she stood up ontop of the carriage and looked down on her enemies. Okay. So, that solved the problem temporarily. It would be another hassle entirely for her opponents to find a way to knock her off the carriage, but they could easily do it if her last ally was defeated.

Now it was just a matter of helping out lonely Kirian. She unslung her bow and notched another arrow, ready to fire at either the Lady knight, or whichever one of her enemies dared to lower their shields. She thought with a minor satisfaction how it word hurt their arms that much more to lift their shields that much higher.

[Assistant]
With him having to keep his shield up nonstop to defend himself from arrows, this battle lasting longer would only benefit the opposition. He did do strength training, of course, but nobody could keep a shield of that size raised for extended periods without feeling the burn. Karvos eyed the location where his female ally was currently locked in a one-on-one struggle with her twisted foe. With the orc being handled quite effectively without his help, perhaps it would be best to change targets and defeat the last of the melee attackers as soon as possible so that the enemy archer would stand alone and stranded on top of the carriage. Climbing up to greet her now, or other methods of reaching her, would be most unwise to attempt while the ground around them wasn't secure unless they had faith in the woman to hold him off. Frankly, he didn't have much faith in anyone besides himself.

With his mind quickly made up, he shuffled sturdily to the side so that he was coming upon the one eyed lady's last known position just as the latest exchange of blows was being made. He took a larger step now to try and reach them in time to save her, as she seemed to be on the loosing end of things. As he stepped forward he swung the hammer towards the back of his skull, hoping to crack it while he was still busy grappling with her.


[System]
Age: 23

Appearance:

Profession: Impalement Artist

Bio: Kathryn, or Kate as her friends call her, was an orphan from the night she was born. She was left on the front walk of an orphanage and nearly froze to death that night until a caretaker heard her weak cries and brought her in. She was raised there, becoming close friends with another young girl who had been taken in. At the age of 7, she and her friend ran away from the orphanage and found themselves as part of a traveling circus. That is where Kathryn was really raised, taking an interest early on in the art of impalement, specifically throwing knives. Eventually, she proved her worth and earned her own act in the show, though she had plenty of scars to show her journey.

Name: Elijah Petrova

Age: 27

Appearance:

Profession: Animal Caretaker/Impalement arts assistant

Bio: Eli grew up in the circus, his father being one of the main proprietors of the many animals the circus required for its shows. He knows many trades within the show, after all he basically lives and breathes the ring. After his father's passing, Elijah decided to remain with the circus and continue his legacy with the various animals. He also helps Kathryn with her knife throwing act, since they had met when they were both young, they learned the trade together. She convinced him eventually to let her thrown sharp pointy objects at him, and he eventually grew to trust her with his life.

[User]
Kate and Elijah shuffled back stage, each of them trying to resist from going into shock after what had just happened. Kate was attached at Eli's hip, but the doctor who had arrived soon split them apart. She pushed her way through the people, making sure she kept an eye on him all the way to an area that was marked off for this very instance.

Kate nearly shoved a knife in the doctor's neck when he tried to tell her that she would have to wait outside of the curtains while he assessed Elijah, refusing to let him out of her sight after what just happened. The doctor agreed only after she threatened to strap him to a board and use him as target practice herself.

The doctor looked Eli over, noticing the blood splatter that covered his entire torso, as well as Kate's hands. But, finding nothing medically wrong with him, he eyed them both suspiciously.

"Is this some trick? I am here for real emergencies, not as a continuation of your little illusion." He scribbled on a piece of paper and pulled back the curtain of the makeshift room to let them both out.

"I give you approval for making the incident so realistic, however. You had me convinced with the blood." Kate and Elijah both tried to explain that the blood was real, as well as what they claimed had happened, but the doctor simply waved them off and returned to his station should he be needed for a real accident.

Elijah walked away with a hand on his neck where the knife had pierced his flesh. He remained silent, and Kate followed him to a pair of chairs that sat at the edge of the backstage, looking on to the show ring.

"Eli?" Kate frowned and looked at her friend, "Are you alright?"

Elijah remained silent for another moment, staring out on at whatever act was currently on. He didn't look at her as he spoke, his voice low and unchanging. "You hit me. Your knife pierced my neck. I felt the blood gushing out of me and my vision blurred." He exhaled and looked down at his feet. "And then nothing. The bleeding stopped, I could see clearly, the wound was gone." He looked at her now with glossy eyes, "How?"

Kate swallowed hard, knowing that the most damaging part was that she had told him that everything would be okay, and then it wasn't. Her brow furrowed as she looked at him. "Eli, I've no idea what just happened. But please, I beg you, believe me when I say that that knife was not on a path towards you. I am sure of that." Her eyes were pleading him to forgive her, fearful that she had lost his trust for good.

Eli sighed again, and remained quiet as he looked at her. Finally, he blinked and nodded slowly. "I believe you. Honestly, the most unbelievable part of the whole bit was that you hit me in the first place." A small smile was restored on his face and he patted Kate on the knee. "But..." his face drew a curious mask, "something odd is going on here..."

The two of them watched the other acts as the show continued as it should. As they watched, they began to noticed peculiar differences in this show from any other... minor things that seemed to alter the acts to make them more appealing to the crowds. When it was Claire's turn to perform, Kate watched on curiously, but a hint of nervousness gnawed at her as well.

Strangely enough, her performance seemed to go on as planned, that is until she heard something odd. Kate had to blink a few times and scan the ring to make sure her brain was not hearing things. It appeared as though Claire had just... roared? Not like she usually did, a poor human attempt to speak the big cat language. This one sounded astoundingly real.

After her act, Claire found Kate and Elijah where they had been watching. She was overly chipper, with a pep in her step, considering the recent circumstances.

"Well, we're shaken up." Kate said with a weak smile.

"But alive!" Eli butted in with a grin, as he was trying to see the brighter side of the situation himself.

Kate raised an eyebrow but said nothing to him, looking back to Claire. "So, uh... when did you learn to speak, oh how do you say... lion? Tiger? Animal?" Kate blinked a few times and stared at her friend, sincerely wanting an explanation for what she had witnessed moments ago.

"Something strange is going on here," Eli agreed, nodding his head. He was baffled at the traumatic event that had occurred to him, but more suspicious than anything at the strange events occurring. It definitely was different than anything that had happened during a show before, and it made them all curious.

[Assistant]
Claire smiled at him when Eli grinned. At least he was not too traumatized by the horrible event that he had gone through, or maybe he was good at hiding it. She noticed how Kate reacted to his grin, so she figured it was likely the latter of the two.

"I'm glad you're both alive." Claire said, with a guilty expression. "Despite what I said earlier today that it would be fun to see you hit him, it wasn't as funny as I'd imagined."

"Oh, isn't it so wonderful, Kate." She exclaimed when Kate mentioned what had happened during Claire's performance. "I could understand Solomon, and Sheila and Scar. Scar has got an excellent singing voice, who knew!"

Claire calmed herself down quickly when someone else approached within earshot. She didn't want others to hear her talking about how she had spoken with her animals, because then she'd be in an asylum before long.

"Ah, yes, it is indeed strange."

She grinned excitedly at Kate with her whole face, when she was sure no one else was looking, but hid the expression as fast as it had appeared.

Elena had changed the order of the performances so that she was last. Well, next to last if you counted the part where everyone was supposed to enter the ring together, take a bow and perform some basic tricks.

The show had been somewhat unforgettable already with some of the illusions and magic she had exerted upon the acts. Now it was her turn though, and she would be damned if she let her underlings upstage her. No, she had a special surprise at the end, not to mention that the act she had prepared for this show was different than anything she had planned previously.

She entered the ring once more, but she had changed clothes since when she had introduced them in the beginning. Elena was wearing a rather nomadic getup, with pearls, braids and a fur coat. She had visible tattoos and jewellery made of bone. It was more fitting for her personality and her act than the black suit and top she had worn when doing the introduction.

Elena began with some minor albeit extraordinary effects, like setting fire to a napkin and freezing the fire itself, planting a seed and having it grow into a bush in front of everyone, swallowing a hissing snake and then pulling it out of her arm. These all got the audience's attention like nothing else had that night or maybe in their entire lives. She felt smug and showed it with a confident posture.

"For my next trick, I will have two assistants." Elena said.

Two young boys that worked at the circus doing a number of different chores walked into the ring to join the magician. She put the boys into two separate boxes, that only showed their heads and their feet, which she locked. Elena picked up a saw and held it so that the audience could see it. She began to saw through one of the boxes.

At first, it was like any other instance when she had performed the trick, but soon the boy in the box was screaming in pain and crying. There was blood dripping out of the box, forming a puddle on the ground. Elena kept at it until she had sawed the box in half. The boy had gone mad by then, and his friend in the other box was clearly afraid when Elena stepped up to saw his box in half. The same thing happened with the second boy, he screamed in pain, and blood stained the ground beneath the box.

When Elena had finished sawing the boxes in half, the four of them began to move around in a circle before they stopped. The boys had been wearing different shoes, so it was easy to see that it was not their original boxes that had paired up together. However, Elena went through with the act of putting them together, changing their bodies into new forms that combined the two original ones.

She opened up the boxes to reveal that the halves of the bodies had indeed been switched. The audience had mixed reactions to this. There were a few who threw up, thinking the illusion was way too real. There were those who were appalled. The majority of them cheered, whistled and clapped frantically though. The first boy passed out, and had to be carried away. The second one ran away screaming as if death itself was giving chase.

Elena bowed. She pulled out the book that had helped her improved tonight's show from within her coat, opened it up and read the passage she had been trying to pronounce right earlier that day. Her voice turned into chanting, taking a much darker tone than usual and spouted utter gibberish to anyone listening.

Unfortunately, she didn't get it quite right this time either. Instead, she sounded as if she'd been possessed by a demon while chanting and a number of shadows began to manifest themselves around Elena. She forced the book to close with pure willpower, but it was too late to contain the shadows. They dispersed into the audience and disappeared out of the big top.

She got a pale expression on her face, fearing whatever she had unleashed as she had honestly no idea what they had been. Thankfully, the audience thought it was another illusion. Londoners weren't particularly bright. Elena could finish her act, pretending that everything had gone as planned.

Everyone entered the ring to take a bow to the audience and finish as they always did. The show ended without any further complications.


[System]
Gender: Male
Age: Somewhere around 16 to 19, but, like most of himself, he's unsure.
Appearance: Roless stands at 5'11, with messy brown hair and vibrant amethyst eyes. His skin is of a light tan, and his hands, like the rest of his body, are full of small scars, barely noticeable nicks in his skin. It is most likely due to the nature of his Blood magic that such marks are present, but then again, who knows? He has a sturdy build despite his lankiness as a teenager, and his voice is cheerful, that positivity often accompanied by a sing-song tone. The Hunter carries himself in a lax manner, and prefers wearing long coats despite his habit of accidentally stepping on the ends of that coat.

His steps are announced with the clink of metal against metal.

Magic: Roless uses Blood Magic in a different way than most Hunters. It's neither a boon to his allies nor a bane to his enemies. Instead, it is fuel in a world where oils are rare and gasoline rarer, a fuel that can be consumed by machines and humans alike. Mechanical weapons roar to life when filled with it, and firearms devoid of ammunition can fire once more, shooting out bullets of hardened blood. These bullets of magic-drenched blood are corrosive to the flesh of unholy monsters, not only penetrating, but also melting. A powerful counter to beings with regenerative capabilities, if enough bullets had been pumped into them.

But what goes around comes around, and Roless is also capable of purifying monster blood to an extent, injecting it into himself to give him the same bestial strength as the beings that he opposes. It's a dangerous game to play, as the same rot that his blood bullets cause to monsters will start to ail him as well, but…it's a fun game, isn't it? He can generally recover from the negative effects of monster blood after half an hour, with the bestial strength lasting him ten minutes per injection. And thus, the ratio is this: each injection gives him 10 minutes of strength and thirty minutes of suffering, as his human blood poisons him. The more blood injected, the stronger he becomes, and the more he suffers.

If only Roless was a masochist.
Weapon: Roless carries three weapons with him, two of them being massive enough that it's an easy testament to his strength.

The first is that is what Roless calls the Hammer. It is a single shot flintlock pistol, one modified to have a frame and barrel strong enough to withstand the recoil of massive bullets. A more accurate description of this would be that of a cannon, powerful enough to turn lesser beings into mush. Though it requires reloading after every shot, it has an extremely potent knockback, and Roless is skilled enough to reload it with one hand regardless. His favorite toy, really, and when combined with his blood magic, it becomes his single most destructive attack, capable of exploding after penetration.

The second is the Rain, an expensive, greedy hand-crank gatling gun with six barrels. Smaller than the mounted variations but still just as deadly, Roless holds it in one hand and cranks it in the other, allowing him to put out 10 rounds per second. As bullets for this particular weapon is rather expensive, he spends most of the monster blood that he harvests into creating bullets of blood for the Rain. Naturally, it wouldn't have the same corrosive effect as using human blood, but hey, what monster would have time to be happy about that, when ten bullets jam itself into its body every second?

The third is the Harvest, a seven foot spear with a one foot long blade that can fold onto itself to be two feet long for easy travel. While the Hammer and Rain could be considered Roless's main sources of damage, the Harvest is, put frankly, how he harvests blood to feed his toys. Unlike most spears that have a single blade fixed into the center of the shaft, the Harvest has two blades fixed at either side of a steel compartment placed at the end of the shaft. Top-heavy, and thus, more difficult to swing about until momentum is gained, its true value is seen when a hidden trigger is held at the machine roars to life and the blades spin wildly, turning into saws capable of shearing through flesh and causing grevious, bloody injuries to all those on the opposite end. Though some of that blood is then used to continue to feed the motor, the majority is stored, to be used as steroids or ammunition.

Personality: This Hunter is a happy oddity in the doom and gloom that is the Land of Wasted Dreams. It could be said that he loves his job from top to bottom, from the life-threatening situations that he fights himself out of, to the days spent in the hospital recovering from his injuries, to the times where he lost his mind after too many monster blood injections, to the amount of money he can pile up after a job well done. Roless, regardless of how frightening, disgusting, disturbing, revolting his work is, embraces it fully, with an innocent passion that revolves not around hatred towards the demonspawn lurking in the darkness, but around the thrill of the hunt.

He's someone to be taken seriously even if his suggestions can become inane. Prone to hatching up nigh-suicidal plans, Roless, to the outsider, would appear to be a fool chasing after his death. But he's not suicidal, nor has he given up. He's simply…desperate for simulation. If he thinks too hard about his actions, he'll start thinking about other things. So he won't. Roless drowns himself in this image of a jester, relishing in violence, because if he's not enjoying himself, what else would he be?

So he'll smile away the shadows, until he forgets that he's more monster than man now.

Bio: Roless was, like most Hunters, thrust into this broken, two-mooned world with no memories. He knew that he was in a hospital, and knew how weapons worked. He understood the value of money, and held enough knowledge that he could surmise that he was a learned man. But that was the extent of his knowledge, and his emptiness as a human being had shaped much of what Roless was to be. On an instinctual level, he understood that he would have nothing, even if he was to escape from this grimy world, and, on an emotional level, he loved it. He relished the freedoms available to him, and spared no time at all living in the present.

Yet, at night, dreams of peaches and plums, of strands of sunlight, of starlit eyes, those would haunt him with their gentleness.

Battles were the flames that gave him meaning.

But warmth was the poison that made his heart beat.
Other: It's quantity, not quality, that matters.

[User]
Alto sprinted through the fog, having just left the town boundary. Considering how late he was, the others were probably at the ravine by now, which normally would've been a two or three hour trip, but Alto was sprinting. Even with his Zweihanders he could sprint fast, much faster than normal hunters, and he could keep it up for a lot longer too.

The temperature dropped suddenly as he ran by a few dead bodies, probably remnants of a battle. The fog was thin enough so that he could identify them, there was one human body pretty badly torn up and a few beast bodies he didn't bother peering at too closely. But his experience as a hunter did tell him something was off.

He felt like there were too little bodies. The beast was weak looking, meaning they probably fought in a large-ish group. The hunting party today was reasonably large, and the ratio of those beasts to one person looked like 3:1 considering the old man.

It doesn't matter, I can't be late, He thought dismissively, I'm the heavy after all.

As a a rule of thumb, almost all hunters wore light armor, used light weapons and were generally light on their feet. But he was capable of using heavy weapons without compromising speed as much as it probably should have so he had the unique advantage of basically being able to go toe to toe with a beast. Although, considering his weapons, it would be toe to toe with one beast, and one beast only at any given time.

I'll need to arrive in... 10 minutes, He thought, I need to pick up the pace.

He sped up his sprint, going even faster than before. The hunters were probably fighting already, he wanted to be there to finish off the thing the mayor said was there. It's not like he didn't think they could handle it, the Half-Demon Akemi was there so he wasn't worried. He kind of just wanted to make a good impression on the new hunters.

I wonder what this beast even is, He thought.

[Assistant]
Donny stopped drinking the putrid drinks that he called "Wine" and instead drank a slightly less putrid drink that passed as "Water". It was... Stale and plain, like it's been sitting in a bucket in the sun all day. Not the most pleasant drink but at least it didn't make his stomach churn over and over.

There was a few moments of silence between him and Maribel. Moments of quiet contemplation over what had happened and what was going on. "Alright. Reality check: My name is Donny Lee Yang. I... I had a family, before I left them. I know that much. Let's see... I think... I think I worked on machines. Machines. Maaaaachines. Or rather just metal stuff? I don't really remember what I made before if anything at all... I remember gears and springs. Lockets. These skills might be useful. I remember what else... Darts. Bottles, balls, I threw things a lot. Hmm. I wonder where I learned those skills from. And these," Donny looked at his waist to see the axe, dagger, and rope. "I chose these for a reason. The rope is familiar to me; I used it a lot. The knife's a knife and does what a knife does. As for the axe... Hmm. I guess I'm just partial to it. But what does this mean? Was I some sort of... Woodsman? An inventor? And how would I end up here?"

Sipping his water Donny felt a chill come into the tavern. He wrapped his coat tighter around his body. He noticed Maribel looking at him, as if she expected him to do something. At first Donny wasn't sure why she was looking at him and smiled at her. But quickly he realized that if Maribel was looking at him so expectantly, something was about to go down. Sure enough shortly after he smiled at her a new person came in.

Donny looked at the fellow. He could easily see his armament; a large pistol, some sort of gatling gun, and a folding spear. He seemed like more the hunter then Donny, and if he had to guess he was likely one of the local inhabitants. Still, Donny didn't answer the boisterous fellow. As far as Donny knew, he wasn't a hunter. Just a stranger. A nobody. "Morning? It's the dead of night." Donny stood up and stretched his body out. Once he was nice and limber Donny flicked his wrist, and his axe was in hand. "Ah well. Got a feeling that something exciting is about to happen. And I wanted to axe some questions anyways." This was going to be a long night.

[User]
The sound of feasting flesh and crunching bones would soon die down to a halt as the Roushta's snake-like limbs would pause in their task just briefly. Two of them from the spider's midsection coiled up and inspected the air, sensing the heat signatures of the group of Hunters as well as the torch Sinthe was carrying around. It seemed that Macey's predication would become reality as the other serpents began hissing out loudly to alert the spider of more prey.

Thankfully though, the hulking arachnid let out a whirring screech that made the snakes docile once more. It would pursue these newcomers only after it had finished this meal. This symbiotic relationship between the two seemingly different creatures was enough to buy the Hunters some time in striking first and developing their plan. But they had best act soon because the Roushta was consuming twice as fast now, its instinct to taste fresh meat overriding all other senses.

Back in White Wolf Tavern, Maribel rolled her eyes and sighed loudly at Donny's lame pun. Really, could he be any more immature? Still, the rising chill in the surrounding area was a cause for concern. The cold didn't affect her but she still stayed close to Donny's side, knowing that something was coming.

Despite her many travels, there were still numerous monsters and nightmares that she had yet to encounter. On this occasion, she had felt the oncoming chill before but only once. She frowned in thought, trying to remember where she had experienced this phenomenon and what had caused it.

Her pondering would have to be put on hold however, as a shrill scratching sound echoed from the ceiling, along with several large and loud bumps. Casting her eyes up to the noise, she motioned for Donny and Roless to follow her outside to the front of the Tavern.

Whatever sought to plague Iredele now was lying in wait on the rooftop.

[Assistant]
Roless laughed at Donny's pun, not because of whether or not it was actually funny, but because it gave him a reason to make lots of noise and piss off all the townspeople trying to be grungy and edgy and sad. He almost didn't catch the pun, until Maribel reacted so melodramatically about it. For something that was supposed to be a little girl, she really sucked at acting the part. As something on the roof made noise, the brown-haired hunter brought out his Hammer, the heavy weight of the flintlock pistol a welcome sensation. Whatever was up there, it was at least going to be obvious about its approach.

"Guess you'll have to axe your questions later, kiddo. Go on ahead. I'll cover you."

Well, that wouldn't really discount the possibility of the punny youth from getting snatched up by the monster's appendages the moment he passed the doorway, but life was hard like that.


[System]
(This is a temporary image just for reference. While it's not exactly what Ash looks like it's close.)
Nickname: Ash

Species: Human

Age: 27

Gender: Male

Occupation: Knight for Hire

Appearance:
Ash is of an average height, approximately 5ft 9in, and he is a muscular, but slender, looking guy who appears to be in good physical condition. His hair is jet black and he has longer bangs that hang slightly over the left side of his face; his eyes are a brilliant icy blue and are piercing in appearance when Ash stares at someone or has direct eye contact with someone.
He wears lightweight upper arm armor on each arm with black fingerless gloves that go up to his shoulders; under a dark protective leather vest he wears a black sleeveless, long necked, wool shirt. The shirt is tucked into a pair of forest green pants that have protective metal leg coverings that use straps to stay attached to his legs. The pants come down and are tucked into a pair of dark leather traveling boots that lace up with metal clasps. Over his shoulders he wears a forest green traveling cape.

Family:
Father - Ruevick Kingstone
Mother - Catherine Kingstone
Older Brother - Lias Kingstone
Older Sister - Bella Kingstone

Personality:
Ash isn't someone who talks a lot as he's a bit shy with people, because of this sometimes he comes off curt, blunt, rude or aggressive. Aside from his shyness though, Ash has a heart of gold and will protect someone with his life. He is protective over those he is charged to guard, and has a hard time letting them do things themselves unless they force him to let them be. He is a very serious person and has a hard time letting loose and joking around.

Likes:
Spending time outside, quiet surroundings, protecting others, reading, meals with fish.

Dislikes:
Arrogant people, lying, cats, onions.

Weapons:
A wide bladed sword at his waist. It is heavy, but because of his years of practice with it, Ash can wield it with minimal effort. He also carries a wide blade hunting knife just in case an attacker gets too close to him or surprises him with a sneak attack.

You don't need to be this detailed with your character. I just need some basic information about her like a picture similar to what she looks like, her name, age, personality, and appearance if it's different at all from the picture.

[User]
Deep within the heart of the kingdom of Gennovia, in the capitol city named after the kingdom itself a magic portal had been opened by an Elder Sage as he began his task of saving Gennovia from the approaching evil that threatened to engulf all the land and plunge the kingdom into 1,000 years of chaos and darkness. A time where monsters would rule over the races that resided within the kingdom led by an evil dark hearted man that used dark magic, who desired nothing more than the be the reigning King over the darkness. He had already made tremendous progress in his quest when he slain the High Priestess, Erainya, to steal her magical light energy for himself in order to use the power to fuel his darkness and allow his control over the monsters of the land.

The Elder Sage, Rura, knew that the man had already begun spreading his darkness over the land when he heard word that monsters had begun raiding a few small towns on the very edge of the Kingdom. Rura also knew that there was very little he and his brother sages could do to stop the man now that he held Erainya's energy and was using his dark powers to control it. In their greatest hour of need as the sages searched for a way to stop their enemy, Rura came across a book that stated that while the High Priestess's energy was only linked to herself and her offspring there was a possibility that a person with an identical energy that could exist across the expanses of time and space whose energy could match that of the High Priestess. If the sages could locate one like that they would be able to help that person unlock and use their powers to defeat the evil man who sought to rule the kingdom.

Rura had spend the last five days and nights searching out the ingredients and symbols needed to create a magical portal whose energy could extend across the time and space barriers to teleport the person to Gennovia. It would take all of the spiritual and magical energy Rura had just to open the portal, but should it fail it could very easily weaken him enough to kill him if he wasn't careful. As he completed the last of the preparations, Rura wiped the sweat from his forehead as he grew nervous as he looked at the portal before taking a beautiful clear crystal and placing it in the center of the symbol on the floor.

Taking a deep breath Rura placed his hands out in front of him and focused his energy through himself towards the crystal within the symbol as he murmured an incantation under his breath. His energy began to form in his palms then began to transfer over to the crystal causing it to glow with a bright white light. He closed his eyes continuing to focus his energy as the light from his energy and the crystal began to fill the room, he could feel the energy from his very soul being drawn forward as he began to feel weak. Rura pushed himself to stay conscious as he heard a low hum begin to fill the room, it was when he sensed another presents within the portal that the Elder Sage realized it had worked, and the sacrifice of his energy had been worth it.

As the light faded in front of his eyes, Rura opened them up to see a body materializing in the portal in front of him. Once the light that engulfed the body had faded, he could see the form of a young woman lying on the floor, she was probably rendered unconscious by the trip through the portal. Her odd clothing indicated she was certainly not of this time and place, he also assumed she would not be happy to know that she was no longer in her world either. Not wanting to scare her into running Rura knew he would have to lie to the young woman, rather than telling her that she had been called her to save an otherwise doomed kingdom he would be forced to make up an excuse to send her to the city of Azen where the shrine of the High Priestess was. Perhaps on her trip she would start to discover her destiny on her own through the power of the Soul Crystal that lay on the floor next to her, if not it would be left to the High Sages there to tell her what she must do and why she must do it.

Kneeling down next to the woman Rura gently placed a hand on her shoulder giving it a gentle shake. "My lady, can you hear me? Are you alright?" the Elder Sage asked in a gentle tone trying to rouse her without frightening her.

[Assistant]
On Earth, Vivian had left the office of the newspaper company she was working at. It had been another day of boring paperwork. This was not the reason why she wanted to work at the newspaper. She wanted to be a journalist, out and about collecting information about the world from people, and investigating into matters that affect society. Unfortunately, since she was fresh out of college and was considered to be young and inexperienced (at least that's what she figured that the other coworkers and her boss saw her as), she was stuck doing paperwork so that she wouldn't mess up in anything. Vivian found that kind of work to be boring and that time seemed to be going painfully slow while doing said paperwork.

The paperwork this time took hours to complete. As she left the building she checked her wristwatch to see that the time was now 11:50 PM. She sighed as she started walking down the sidewalk, the street lights being the only source of light other than the full moon that hung in the night sky. She walked briskly, trying to hurry out back to her apartment, and out of the cold air. As she walked on however, she soon heard her cell phone ring. She dug her phone out of her backpack, and she answered "Hello?"
"Hi Sis!"

Vivian smiled at the sound of her little sister's voice, and she answered "Hey Mimi. How are you kiddo?" Mimi answered "I'm ok. Just wanted to say 'Hi'," Vivian raised an eyebrow and she asked, teasing her sister a bit "Is that really all, Mimi?" After a bit of silence, Mimi answered "...And I wanted to see if you were going to come home for my birthday," Vivian laughed and she answered "Why would you ask that? Of course I'm coming. Your birthday is on the weekend after all," She could hear her sister cheer on the phone at the answer, and Mimi continued "Don't forget to bring an awesome present, Vivi! Keyword: Awesome" Vivian joked with a mischievous grin on her face, "Of course, Mimi. I'll make sure to give you my finest hand-me-downs!" Vivian laughed harder when she heard her sister groan at the mention of hand-me-downs. Vivian then said "I gotta go Mimi. See you this weekend," Mimi answered "Yeah! See you then! Bye!" After Vivian hung up on her sister, she placed her phone back into her backpack.

Vivian continued on her way after all was said and done. However, as she walked on, she noticed that she had a headache. At first it was easily ignored, but the headache strangely grew stronger and stronger, until she had to stop and hold her head. She groaned in pain as she held her head in pain and she muttered "Wh-What the...?" She tried to keep walking, thinking that she just needed to take an aspirin in order to alleviate this headache. However, her vision started to blur and eventually, she felt herself pass out and fall.

She expected to feel the rough asphalt and concrete of the sidewalk, but the impact never came. Instead she felt as though she was falling for what seemed like a long time, until she lost consciousness. She didn't know how long she was out cold, but she soon felt someone shaking her shoulder and heard someone talking. The speech was at first blurred, but it cleared and she could tell the tone was gentle. She groaned as she stirred, and opened her eyes to see that she was on her back, and there was a person kneeling next to her. At first her mind was clouded as she answered "I...I think I'm ok..."

She quickly snapped awake which caused her to quickly sit up and look around. Where was she? Had she been kidnapped? She backed away from the man, putting some space between the two, and she stood up. She asked him "Who are you? Where am I?"


[System]
Age: 17

Heritage: The son of Hatter Madrail. Ghent's mother was murdered a few years after he was born.

Adoptive parents: Frederick and Elise Preston. Elise was the first to find Hatter's son; she was astonished to discover him in the woods near their home, disoriented and impossibly lost.

Appearance: Thick, medium length black hair. The style is unpredictable, but the layers sometimes give it an unruly appearance. His bangs fall in front of his eyes, which are blue in color and have a sharp, piercing quality to them. The rest of his features are dark and seem to contrast against his paler-than-should-be skin. He has a lithe build and currently stands at 5'9", but has about a year left to grow.

Distinguishing Marks: A few light freckles running across the bridge of his nose. A more noticeable one is underneath his left eye. He has a small scar underneath his jaw.

Clothes Wear: Whatever's comfortable. He usually wears hoodies, jeans, worn out sneakers, and three quarter/graphic t-shirts.

Abilities: Strength and magic, both inherited from his race. As far as magic goes, Ghent was completely unaware of the ability until Drust and Elayra came to earth. Understandably, he is inexperienced but has the potential to become better with practice.

Weapons: A staff, given to him on page 13.

Personality: It's no secret that Ghent can be a pain. He isn't malicious, but he enjoys pushing the buttons of others in order to get a reaction out of them. His sarcasm usually lands him in trouble, but his past experiences haven't been enough for him to keep his mouth shut. Despite his immaturity, he has a good heart. Ghent has lazy tendencies, but can be hard working with proper motivation.

Major Positive Traits: Compassionate. Empathetic. Hardworking (sometimes).

Major Negative Traits: Sarcastic. Cocky. Klutz. Impulsive. Awkward.

Weaknesses: At times, Ghent doubts himself and his abilities. The fear of failure usually prevents him from achieving success. Having lived in two worlds, he struggles with deciding where he belongs and where his loyalties lie.

Ticks and Tags: Ticks: Fidgets a lot, often with the drawstrings of his hoodies. When he's faced with a situation he can't wrap his mind around, he will pace and/or mumble to himself until he can make sense of what's happening.  Tags: "Cut me some slack!" "Great." "Wait, what?"

Fears: Ghosts. Failure. Being unable to return home. Wonderland in general.

Short Bio: Ghent's story could have been a tragic one, had he not been found. He was discovered in a forest as a toddler, and later adopted by the very family that took him in.
 For much of his childhood, Ghent lived in the comforts of a small farmhouse in the country. Life was serene, quiet, and good. He grew up happy and healthy, with a mother who doted on him and a dedicated, hardworking father.
 Things changed when they moved. Seeking better employment, Mr. Preston uprooted his family to the city, which is where they remained for the years that followed.
 The city posed many differences and challenges, but Ghent learned to adapt and knew his way around. Unfortunately, street smarts didn't help much in school.
 As Ghent grew older, the nightmares and flashbacks became more frequent. Different events or images would trigger a memory, many of which involved Elayra and Drust. The memories confused and frightened Ghent. He never forgot Wonderland, but he learned to stop talking about it after his parents sought him professional help. It was something his mother made the mistake of telling her longtime friend, Mrs. Saxon.
 News spread and rumors started. High school proved to be Ghent's biggest obstacle. He became an easy target for jokes and ridicule, and his grades began to suffer for it.
 Motivated by money and the desire to help his family financially, he began to take on odd jobs. His fifth job turned out to be his favorite: a part-time shift at Frank's Book Barn.
 Even there, Ghent wasn't free from Wonderland. Flashbacks would hit him at the most inconvenient times…and they didn't cease until became reunited with two important faces from his past.

Other Important Characters

Name: Henry

Age: 14

Appearance:  Henry is thin, wiry, with no muscle tone whatsoever. He makes an effort to look neat, but his untamed shock of ginger hair betrays him by looking a mess and his freckles are out of control. When reading, he wears thick black glasses over his large, brown eyes that give him an owlish appearance.

Clothes wear: Henry wears an odd mix of clothing. Most of his clothes are hand-me-downs from previous cousins, including Ghent. When his options are limited, he can be found wearing faded graphic t-shirts (he favors Disney ones) and jeans that have been rolled up at the cuffs in order to fit.

Personality: Despite a rocky home life, Henry remains optimistic, but he has a sensitive side that results in him crying at the drop of a hat. Although he has a sweet, childlike innocence about him, he isn't foolish. He's remarkably intelligent and has a great love for reading and learning. Because of his OCD, Henry is always cleaning and organizing, and likes to keep busy in order to make himself useful. His desire for perfect order can be a little overwhelming at times, but he means no ill intent and has great respect for his family and friends.

Bio: Henry is an only child who never longed for the company of a sibling. Growing up in the country, he had plenty of family and cousins to spend his time with. The families all lived quite close in the rural area, including the Preston family.
 Even as a toddler, Henry was fascinated by Ghent and seemed to gravitate towards him, viewing him as an older brother figure. To the delight of their parents, the three year age gap and a difference in personality didn't prevent the two boys from getting along.
 After the Preston family moved to the city, Henry was heartbroken. The families kept in touch when possible, making multiple visits during the holidays. The visits lessened over the years, but Henry took it upon himself to keep in touch through any means possible. To Elise's delight (and to Frederick and Ghent's dismay) Henry has been known to leave long rambling phone messages, sends more texts than a teenage girl, and writes letters so long, they need to be mailed in multiple envelopes.
 Henry is the only one Ghent continued to trust with his few memories of Wonderland. Their efforts to uncover the mystery were admirable, but brought nothing but disappointment and wild theories. Eventually, a disgruntled Ghent gave up, but Henry continued to search for the truth behind his cousin's past.

[User]
"Can't fault me for trying." Ghent shrugged, unfazed by the refusal. For the time being, he gave up on trying to help her. Elayra was undoubtedly used to much worse when it came to injury, and Ghent didn't want to risk riling her any more than necessary. She'd already pulled an arrow on him, he didn't want to find out what would happen next.
 Despite very little sleep, Ghent felt completely awake and alert. Unlike Elayra, he was lazy in the fact that he didn't bother to keep a lookout for foes. Elayra was diligent enough for the both of them, and well equipped to boot.
 As he contemplated asking more about the dangers of Wonderland, Ghent felt Elayra grab his wrist. Startled, he wondered if she'd spotted something, though she answered him before he might ask. They were taking a short stop of some kind, one that went in the opposite direction of the Book Barn.
 "Why?" Ghent followed after the blonde, bewildered by the sudden detour. "You just said we were wasting time!"
 The pavilion provided very little clues as to what Elaya's purpose was; the only benefit from the structure was to shield them from the rain, which was only useful for one of them.
 "Hey, I think I carved my name into one of these." Ghent observed a table in passing, hoping to find evidence of his once being there. Preoccupied with the hunt for graffiti, Ghent overheard the small, soft thud of the bow being set down. Confused, he turned to Elayra as she instructed him to close his eyes.
 "What for?" Ghent was incredulous and unwilling to comply. "Is this a test or something?"
 Had this been Drust, Ghent may have been more compelled to follow orders, but he was reluctant to agree with Elayra without some sort of explanation as to what was going on. She was not his superior, why should he listen?

[Assistant]
With the gentle pattering of the rain echoing around them and off the slightly vaulted roof, Elayra's eyes narrowed when Ghent questioned her order. She gave something between a growl and a sigh.
 "Basically?" she replied curtly. "Yep." She glanced up to the shield, now unneeded beneath the protection of the pavilion.
 Looking from it, she let her mental hold over it and the magic drop. Without her will to command the magic to take form, the shield burst into a glittering, dusty film that vanished in the span of a blink.
 Elayra uncrossed her arms and rested her left hand leisurely on the hilt of her sword, her intense gaze returning to Ghent.
 "You're Hatter Madrail's son. The only ones remaining of the Vinifcium--a race of powerful sorcerers and fighters," she elaborated with an irritated air, trying to answer an inevitable question before he could ask it to save time. "In theory," she spat the detested word, "you've inherited their connection to magic. And that's what we need. But you didn't even believe in magic until yesterday!" She snorted, throwing a hand in the air exasperatedly and again wondering what kind of world taught that there was no such thing as magic.
 "So." She took a threatening step toward Ghent and crossed her arms once more over her chest. "Mouth and eyes closed. We're going to see if you get along with the magic here."

[User]
"Hatter's my old man. I know." Ghent grumbled, leaning against the table nearest to him. The fact that he was related to Hatter was something he'd been reminded of several times, but he wasn't all too pleased about it. So far, he'd only felt the pressure of expectations he had no idea if he was capable of meeting. Why should he be compared to Hatter if he'd no recollection of the man? It wasn't as if he'd been taught magic, he'd only just learned about it.
 Though Ghent didn't fancy the idea of having to prove himself so early on, he didn't want to back down from the challenge. Elayra made conjuring fire seem simple enough, and she'd made the rain-shield vanish without a single word. At least this way he wouldn't have Drust there to witness his first attempt at sorcery.
 "Believe in it? How could I have believed in it? It's never been proven to exist!" Ghent had a feeling Elayra's opinion of him would not change unless he got the magic to work. Though he'd tried to tell himself that he didn't care what she thought, he did care. Proving himself was important if he wished to earn any amount of respect.
 With an aggravated sigh, Ghent closed his eyes and unintentionally mimicked Elayra by folding his own arms across his chest. "To quote you, we're wasting time. Lets get this over with."

[Assistant]
Elayra snorted. "Fine by me," she snapped.
 She took a breath, trying to calm her impatience and worries. With Ghent's eyes closed, she tried to think back to the first of the few, more official lessons in magic Drust had given her, and of the various bits and pieces she had picked up in between.
 "Magic's all around us, it just exists on a plane all its own, so most people can't see it. But a lot of us can feel it, if we try. If we reach out to it first. Once you've found it once, it'll be easier to find it when you need it. So." She uncrossed her arms and leaned back against one of the benches. "Clear your head, then imagine the energy of magic flowing around us. Once you can feel it, command it. For now, use focus words. The one for a basic shield is tuito. It's a good one for a beginner."
 She stared at him intently, for the first time that morning not paying her surroundings much attention. She took a slight step away in case he managed to mispronounce the command, her eyes never leaving him, fearing the worst, but hoping, despite her better judgment, for the best.


[System]
Alias/Nicknames: (In decreasing order of how well-known the alias is) Ken, Miles, Innocent Flower, James Brown, Andrei Ivanov, Ken Doll, Sandra Starr
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Appearance: i.imgur.com/TwvFfFx.png, i.imgur.com/MHYRDTt.png

Preferred Weapons: 9mm Browning Hi-Power, rapier (he knows he'll never use it).
Preferred Gear: Rope, sniper camera, clawed glove, artist's paint, poison, invisible ink
Notable Skills/Talents: Really good with rope - he knows all the knots and can make new ones. He is also great at sending coded messages, and torture. Speaks fluent french and russian.

History: Kenneth Miles was born into the New York middle class. Growing up, he loved the city, except the crime. He learned ballet all through his teenage years, and attended AADA to learn acting. It was while he was in acting school that the CIA picked him up as a potential infiltrator. He completed his acting training in 1967, and has spent the last four years in CIA training.

[User]
@Jozarin"Sir, we've just received word that the Soviets are plotting something in France. The reports mention someone plotting to sneak into a nuclear-armed base during an inspection by NATO, and disarm the warheads positioned there." announced a CIA agent to Director Richard Helms. Helms turned to the man and said "Get those two agents I had selected earlier, and have them ready to act at once. Keep them informed of anything we learn, and tell them to try and capture any Soviet agents alive for interrogation." The agent nodded and rushed out of the office, preparing the message in his head for the following phone calls.

---

Director Fyodor Mortin was planning out the final steps for the Soviet plot in France. He turned to an agent, and told them "Inform the selected agents in Paris to begin operations within the next 24 hours. Tell them of the meeting location, and that if they make any contact wit agents from the United States and its allies, to kill on sight. We don't need the competition." The agent rushed off to make the necessary telephone calls.

[Assistant] Katherine Beauchamp was in Nice, the location of her alias's home, when she got the call. It was early, but she so rarely slept. Her doctors called it insomnia and gave her sleeping pills but they always made her so groggy the next day, it was usually worse. It rang twice, she picked it up before it could ring a third, and to anyone listening it was just random chatter. She hung up after precisely 7 seconds and grabbed her shoes, her purse, and her keys. Katherine Beauchamp wasn't a very good driver, but wasn't going to kill anyone due to her driving habits. She then proceeded to go to her usual cafe, and have a scone. She sat at a table with a newspaper left over and decided to take a look. She finished her scone but took the paper home with her. If questioned, she saw a name she knew in the obituaries, and she wanted to bring it home to remember to go to the visitation. When Katherine Beauchamp re-entered her house, she went down into a basement that no one else would know was there. It was on no building plans, there were no obvious doors in her house to it. As she descended the stairs, Ekaterina Naryshkina pulled the file out of the newspaper and spread it out in front of her on a table. It had all the information about her newest assignment. She would be infiltrating a French Military base to deactivate nuclear warheads. The CIA would also be there, which was annoying. She'd rather not get in an altercation with an American, but it would be two against two, so she should be fine. She would be meeting a Nikolas, which the name in itself irks her. It wasn't Russian, it was close but it was Greek. It didn't matter, but she had deep pride for Russian culture. She memorized the file, took her new identification out, and burned what was just information. No need for extra evidence if she were discovered, and not killed of course. Katherine Beauchamp went back upstairs. She packed a bag for the trip she'd be taking to the military base. She fed her cats, went over to neighbors house to ask them to take care of the cats for the next few days while she went on a work vacation before climbing into her car once more to drive to Paris.

[User]
A plane was again taking off at the Orly Airport south of Paris as Major David Logan exited the main terminal with his luggage. It was starting to rain.

He was wearing his officer's uniform, and aching to be at his hotel to rest after a long, straight flight from New York. He reminded himself of the file he had been given by his superior back in the states. It had been quite thin, as there hadn't been much intelligence on the targets. The file had said that his new identity would be Major Harry Lockhart, a recon officer from West Point. It also had stated that his local contact would be another CIA agent stationed at Paris, a graduate from AADA. An expert at masking himself, the file had mentioned.

It was a rush hour in front of the terminal. Many taxis and buses came and left, dozens of people walked to and out of the terminal. David pulled out a Cuban cigar from one of his pockets and lighted it as he glanced around, watching the traffic around him. David started walking, stretching his limbs as he took steps. After a while, he hailed a taxi and enjoyed his cigar for a second longer before putting it out. He wanted to have a hot bath and go to sleep for a few hours.

 "Take me to the Grand Plaza hotel, and quickly", David said, using almost all of his French in the process.

[Assistant]
James Brown left his cab, buttoning up his suit. He carried two light suitcases, one of which he gave to the porter, along with a 100 Franc tip. The CIA had three dedicated rooms at the Grand Plaza, each fit for two agents.

He crossed the foyer. In French, he said

"Room 714, please."

The receptionist disappeared from the desk, and came back with a man. His black double-breasted blazer had a crescent-and-arrow lapel pin in it. This was their operative in the hotel.

"Are you Mr. Ace?"

There was no Mr. Ace. It was a code phrase that the CIA issued only to Brown, and the man in the blazer.

"No. Tell Doctor Black that a Mr. Ike has arrived."

They had established identities. James Brown instructed that he would only need the luggage tomorrow, and for the porter to take his time. He kept his other suitcase on him, as he was escorted up to room 714.

He opened the door, and saw a desk, two beds, and a wardrobe. He set down his suitcase on his half of the wardrobe, took out his orders, and began to review the mission.

[User]
David's taxi stopped in front of Grand Plaza. He stepped out of the taxi, thanked the driver, took his luggage and paid for the ride, giving him a generous tip. David took a breath, pulled out another Cuban cigar, lit it and entered the hotel. It was indeed a grand place, styled in Italian fashion. There should be three rooms for the Agency. He walked to the receptionist, a middle-aged and tanned figure, and said: "I'd like to check-in. The reservation's should be on Helms."

"Ah, monsieur Lockhart, wasn't it? We've been expecting you." The receptionist replied in English and with only a whisker of French accent. "You didn't see monsieur Pachinko on your way here?"

It was David cue, his password. "No, but I saw a Montgomery in the plane."

 The Frenchman offered David a paper to sign and finished the password."That's so bad, monsieur Lockhart. Could you sign this paper? Here and here, please."

David signed the paper quickly with a signature he had practiced just before leaving the States and handed the paper back to the receptionist. "Do you have any mail for me?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. If you wait for a moment I can get you a suitcase a man left with your name on it."

David nodded, and the Frenchman walked away from the desk, returning in few seconds later with a suitcase. "A piccolo will escort you to room 714" he said and handed both the key and the suit case to David.

"Thank you. Your service has been the most excellent so far" David said, heading towards the elevator.

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

In front of room 714, David gave the piccolo a tip and send him away. After the piccolo had gone, David opened the suitcase he had been provided, and there they were: two Single Action Army revolvers with ammunition. He took one, loaded it and closed the suitcase. It wasn't smart to go a hotel room unarmed as a spy. David had learned his lesson the hard way in Hanoi. He had been shot in a Vietnamese hotel and spent three months in a Australian hospital.

He opened the door and with great speed he jumped to the room, quickly spotting a man. Pointing his revolver at him, David said "You don't look like Eisenhower at all, mister."

[Assistant] Nathan sat in the outdoor seating of a cafe in Paris, the Doreen Cafe. He was currently under the guise of Nikolas, his Russian persona. He had been sent to meet with a Russian agent, before embarking on a mission to deactivate nuclear warheads in a military base nearby. He had been given explicit orders to not blow his cover, even to the extent of deactivating the warheads himself. He sat in the cafe, sipping a coffee, and preparing the files necessary for the other agent to go over. He had been given ID cards for the both of them, and a uniform for himself. He ran through the mission objectives in his head one last time, then went back to his coffee, awaiting the agent in question.

[User]
Katherine Beauchamp made good time to Paris, and ended up in her hotel room for a few minutes before Ekaterina had to make her way down to the cafe they were meeting at. She took a minute to freshen up, since she had been driving all night. After fixing her hair and changing her clothes, she went downstairs to ask for directions to the cafe. It wasn't that far, and it was much easier to lose any sort of tail when walking in Paris compared to driving. She took the long way, doubling back a few times because you can never be too careful, before she finally got to the cafe. She picked up a newspaper forgotten on a table, and bought a scone before finding her contact, Nikolas. She spotted him and went over to his table.
"Do you mind if I sit?" She asked in French, before sitting down with no answer. Ekaterina opened the newspaper and glanced over it before looking up at the sky.
"I hear the moon will be beautiful tonight." She said, waiting to hear the return phrase, reaching into her purse for one of her lipstick guns, just in case.

[Assistant]
Kenneth looked back.

"No, I don't suppose I do. Kindly, do put down the gun."

Ken's partner was evidently experienced, and had come prepared. A thing he was generally thankful for. Just... not right now.

"I reviewed the mission briefs, and set out some minor surveilance. That should be back by tomorrow morning."

Ken stood up, and looked out the window. Ah, Paris, the jewel of Europe.

"I would prefer it if we were to stop our adversaries before they leave the city. Kidnapping, blackmail, or torture are my preferred methods."

[User]
David lowered his gun, but didn't yet put it away. He let himself to relax a bit. This guy evidently could stay calm, or at least hide his nervousness. "I'd prefer a bath first, partner, but whatever suits you."

David took his luggage from the hallway and turned to his partner. He had been briefed about this man. A graduate from the American Academy of Dramatic Arts. Recruited few years ago to CIA. David had seen some photographs of him in his several disguises, but now he did have none. "Kenneth Miles, wasn't it?" David asked. He still holding the revolver.

[Assistant] Nathan was surprised to see Katherine, or rather, Ekaterina, as the agent he would be working with. He recognized her from files back at the CIA headquarters, although little info was known about her. He did his best to hide the surprise, and reacted normally, as if the he was expecting it to be her the whole time. responded to Katherine with the planned reply of "Yes, and the wolf walks soon." He discretely passed her the coded files that detailed their orders. After giving her a bit of time to look them over, he asked her "When will you be ready for our trip? We should leave as soon as possible, to avoid hassles."


[System]
I R L
Age - 17
Place of Origin - Japan
Occupation - High School Student

A V A T A R

Character's Name - Benkei
Pathos Affiliation - Tyhrien
Role - Tank
Profession - Fisherman
Weapon of Choice - Great Sword
Domains - Earth/Conjuration

-

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Self-Conscious
Being the younger brother to a prodigy never helped after the divorce. Kazuki went with their mother, but Kazuma had to stay with their father. The pressure his father exerted on Kazuma was enough to develop into a full blown complex, with Kazuma breaking down with panic attacks in private. Around others, Kazuma is extremely self-conscious of how he is perceived, how he performs and where he falls in the group dynamic. Everything has to be perfect. With Kazuki here because of him, he has to prove that he has some sort of worth; even if it's just in a video game.

Short-Tempered
If someone shows him up, if someone pushes him, or if anyone picks on his brother, Kazuma is prone to outbursts, threats and yelling. His youth mixed with his own inferiority complex makes a volatile concoction for Kazuma, and he takes it out on the people around him. He has to prove himself every second of every day, because he lives in constant fear that people will simply say that he is a complete fraud of a "badass player".

Obsessive
Kazuma has a one-track mind at being the best. He wants to complete all the content and complete it perfectly, collect all the rare items, and to be regarded by everyone who sees him as a "great player". The fact that the only regular person he interacts with and plays with in the game is his big brother is a testament to how his personality bristles with others and pushes would-be friends away, and his compulsion to be the best at any cost puts himself constantly at risk.

B E N C H M A R K S

Gaia's Protection
Kazuma has focused his magical toolkit on synergizing with his chosen role; he uses the power of the earth to construct barriers around himself and others to protect them from enemy attacks, and is capable of shifting the ground around him to trap enemies in soft dirt or sand.

Protective Knight
Kazuma forgoes movement speed in combat to instead stand his ground against heavier enemies. If he puts himself between an ally and a monster, he will act as an immovable wall to protect those around him.

Natural Aggro
Kazuma just has that personality to piss anyone off, and it seems to work well enough on enemies as well. As long as Kazuma can focus on a target, the target will probably focus on him as well, giving his allies breathing room.

Earthen Stubbornness
Being badly wounded does not stop Kazuma in combat. Instead, his stalwart nature and connection to the earth increases his defense when he's in a critical situation, giving him precious extra seconds to survive long enough for his allies to help him
 | Physical Description
Kazuma is an average Japanese High Schooler. Standing at 5'8, he's unimpressive in many respects. His physicality is also the same; he's skinny and weak; constantly placing in the lower half of school physical exams. The only redeeming quality about himself is that his face is fair and slightly handsome; a trait he shares with his older brother.

In Pariah Online, his character is surprisingly similar to himself in real life. Soft facial features, brown hair; but there is an exception: his in-game model has blue eyes, unlike his real-life brown. His character's body is also far more toned and muscular, though it does seem quite comical for a character who is set at slightly below the average male character height to wield such a large greatsword. His character is usually decked out in suits of armor; giving him a slightly more "buff" look than if he wore normal clothes.
Character Conceptualization
Kazuma lives in shadows. The shadow of his parent's divorce, the shadow of the constant expectations thrust upon him, and the biggest shadow of all: his older brother Kazuki. Since being separated from his older brother during his parent's divorce, Kazuma is constantly pressured to perform well in school, do well and follow his older brother's example; something that Kazuma is struggling every day to do. The only time his life wasn't filled with panic-inducing stress were the hours he cemented into Pariah Online.

And then Kazuki crashed that too.

While his brother supported him as a healer, Kazuki didn't have the same fervent desire to cement his legacy as the greatest as Kazuma had. Kazuki focused on other, unimportant aspects of the game, while Kazuma grinded to push himself to the top; pushing others away and causing rifts in multiple playgroups he'd been invited to. His skill as a tank; putting himself in the middle of battle and controlling the flow of the enemy-that was Kazuma's way of exerting control on the life he had zero control over. But even so, that control is extremely tenuous...
Other Information
N/A |

[User]
---

---

So much for things going smoothly.

A small, tiny voice said that Kazuki should apologize. His initial assumption was completely biased and aside from an unpleasant comment before everything happened, he had no real reason for his words aside from a gut feeling. Nothing Graves said was wrong. Nothing he said was inaccurate. Well, this is probably what he got for trying to be social. He should have considered this a possibility, but he hadn't really thought Graves would get so emotionally defensive over someone not worth it. No, the best thing to do was to calm down. Apologizing was for the weak, but for the sake of unity, it was probably needed.

At the last sentence, however, Kazuki's eyebrows shot up for a second before he narrowed his eyes, his eyes cold and every previous thought thrown out the window. He knew it. He knew he wasn't just being paranoid or hard on himself. He knew that this is what they'd pin on him.

"I'll never forgive you."

"Say it," Kazuki challenged Graves, ignoring Alja for a moment.

---

---

[Assistant]
Location:The Laughing Warg Tavern - The City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

Raised voices. And now Graves was on his feet, looking like he was prepared to deck Kazuki.

His brother.

"Excuse me-" he said quickly to Sif, realizing he had to act fast. Right now everything he'd worked for was going up in smoke, and he had no idea why. Honestly, he didn't care why. Someone was being aggressive to his family, and there was no way in hell he was going to stand by and watch this.

He felt a tremor in his hands. He forced it down. He had to force it down because right now Kazuki was in trouble and he wasn't going to be a coward. He wasn't going to collapse.

"Hey!" His voice rose higher than he wanted as he approached Graves' flank. "The owners already said to keep things civil in here." His voice was less calm and more tinged with anger and venom. The fact that Graves of all people was pulling an aggressive card with his brothers-his brother-of all people was already out of the question. "You need to walk away and cool your head before you cause trouble for everyone." Benkei was serious. And not serious as he had been yesterday. This was a colder serious. The kind of attitude that followed with a thrown fist.

He'd been in enough fights. Lost enough too. But he'd be goddamned if he let someone push his family around.

[User]
Location: Laughing Worg Tavern - City of Thorinn, Aetheria

---

'Even if Luci's been insufferable 'bout blaming us for somethin' outside our control.'

Graves knew he didn't believe it. He knew he was only thinking it because Kazuki was being a massive asshole and Graves knew just where to stick the knife to hurt him- that was somethin' he'd learned at home too. He knew just how to hurt somebody bad enough for it to last. He'd been watching Kazu. He watched him during the fight, watched him afterwards. Watched him at the graveside. He'd been watching the man and he knew just how much the guilt weighed him down. It was a terrible burden he'd put on himself and it was one he didn't even deserve.

But that didn't matter. What mattered was Kazu had pissed him off and he needed to be hurt.

Graves got close. Close enough he could whisper it. Make it dig deep. "You could'a saved-"

Somebody else cut in, interrupting him. Benkei, the boy who thought he'd be king. All it took was a glance- he looked as heated as Graves felt. Everything about how he was standing, how he was speaking, how his hands trembled just a little told him their auspicious leader was ready to explode the moment he had an excuse.

He turned, facing the bigger of the two. "Civil." He practically spat the word. "I'on't know what you are to Kazuki, Kazum-something, but I'd step the fuck back n' let him take responsibility for the shit he says for once in his God damn life. He's gonna apologize, or yeah, we're gonna have a problem."

[Assistant]
---

---

He couldn't believe he let himself get so emotional. Fighting was stupid, arguing was stupid, but there he was getting all worked up. He was supposed to be banding together, not egging on a hothead who was coming at him prepared! But for the first time in a long time, Kazuki had to admit to himself that it hurt to hear. Graves didn't even have to finish the sentence--just hearing it out loud shook him. It was cathartic in the strangest way, he couldn't wrap his head around it. What the hell was wrong with him? Why would he want to hear that? It made everything so much worse, it made it so much more real than he wanted to be.

Seeing Kazuma had snapped him back to reality, recognizing the situation. For fuck's sake, this was literally the opposite of what they were supposed to be doing. And once again, it was his fault. Kazuki moved between Kazuma and Graves, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder to stop him as he looked him in the eye, shaking his head. He knew he needed to properly explain himself, to get things back on track. Not that he thought there was a point--any hope of unity was shattered because of him. He had to at least try to salvage it.

"Stop," Kazuki said, his voice a little louder than intended. "Stop. Please. He's--Graves is right. It is my fault." In every possible way.

Choosing to bite his tongue and feeling like it wasn't going to help anyway, Kazuki looked directly at Graves, having to resist the urge to look away. "I am sorry," He stated it clearly. "I spoke based on what little I know and a terrible first impression." And a bad second impression, and bad third impression...in an odd sense, he was right that that girl caused issues. Go figure.

"This isn't what I--what we came here for," Kazuki made an effort to put things back on track. "And I'm sorry. I wanted us--all of us--to come together."

---

---


[System]
Superhero name: Arthur

Gender: M

Race: Human

Age: 18

Appearance: 5 foot 11, golden amber eyes. Arthur has a bite mark left on his left forearm from a wolf attack. Multiple scars scattered across his torso from hi sword training. Has an ethereal blue handprint emblazoned over his left pectoral.

Power: Knowledge of cantrips. Cantrips include, Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Minor healing, minor illusions (which he hates using because he considers it to be lying.)

Limitations;
Fire Cantrip: Can create a flurry of embers which can be used to start fires, alternatively it can be used to manipulate small flames such as campfires, torches, and candles.

Wind Cantrip: Can create small gusts of wind, the strength of which can be adjusted as needed. Currently he can only create winds up too 6 mph.

Earth Cantrip: Can be used to manipulate minerals and soil. Currently he can only use it to weaken walls or floors made from clay bricks.

Water Cantrip: Can manipulate just under a gallon of water. Requires water to be present.

Minor Healing: Can only be used to instantly heal scrapes, burns, and small cuts. Uses the calories stored in the body to accelerate the bodies natural healing process, thus it requires Arthur to have sufficient energy, and preferably having eaten shortly beforehand.

Minor Illusions: Can create noises and temporarily alter peoples perceptions of small objects no larger then a duffel bag. Visual illusions can be easily seen through by more intelligent people, or those actively trying to see through it.

Skills/Talents: Trained in swordplay and archery. Know's the general basics of sewing, hunting/tracking, wilderness survival, horse riding, and alchemy (medicinal not magical)

Flaws/Weakness: Arthur is a plain old mortal man, with all the weaknesses that come with it. He however cannot swim, suffering from hydrophobia, thus he refuses to go out on open water.

Background/bio: Arthur was born during a time of war, to a single mother. His early youth spent growing up around the brothel his mother worked for. Born the bastard of a whore, the folk of the land looked down on Arthur, treating him like a pest more then a person. These formative years went a long way to teach Arthur about respect and honor. Alas his time with his mother would be cut short by the invasion of the Saxon forces. As war and turmoil spread rapidly across the land his mother knew she would not be able to protect her boy. But her prayers would be answered with the arrival of a stranger.

He said his name was Merlin, and that he had come in search of a child destined to save the land. That boy, of course, being Arthur. At the age of 9 he left home to begin his training. Over the next eight years, Arthur would be taught the importance of morality and compassion, and under Merlin's tutelage he would learn the way of the sword. As Arthur grew, so did his talents, even showing an aptitude for magic and science. This would push Merlin to increase his training, knowing the knowledge he instilled in the boy would one day be used for the people.

As the day of reckoning drew near, Merlin knew Arthur was not yet ready to take his place as savior of the people, so he enacted a new plan. Calling upon the forbidden arcane art of temporal magic, Merlin ripped a whole in the very fabric of space and time. With one final word of wisdom Merlin cast Arthur forward through time into the distant future where, with any luck, he would mature into the man his kingdom needed him to be.

Now all alone, in a foreign land full of corruption and hate, Arthur must follow his heart if he is to ever return home.

[User]
James Harris
16:47

James groaned as he walked into his apartment, fresh off a double shift. His side was still throbbing slightly, his ribs still in the process of knitting together from where he turned that little boy's break into nothing but a few bad bruises after the tumble he took out of the tree. It was no walk in the park having to finish his shift with a broken arm, but he powered through worse in the past and at least the worse is over at this point – should only take another hour or so – and then he can just kick back and enjoy his first vacation in far too long. He hasn't had a real day off in ages, now – as long as he doesn't get called back in – he'll have three glorious days of peaceful bliss.

Collapsing on his couch his plans for the night unfolded behind his eyes like a beautiful picture. It's still early afternoon, so first, he'll take a nice nap – get his ribs sorted out – then he'll head out to grab some dinner at Wu's. He loves Wu's, they make the best dumplings in the city – it's a pity they don't deliver. Amy's also going through quite a sticker phase according to Sarah, so maybe he could make a quick stop on the way and pick some up for her, maybe grab some glow-in-the-dark stars for above the twins' cribs as well? That'll earn him some 'Best Uncle' points for sure. Then with both stickers and dinner acquired, hell come home and just kick back and relax with the next Terry Pratchett in his collection.

Good plan…

---

22:00pm

Prize obtained! Walking out of the store into the evening air, he placed his purchases into his various coat pockets – zipping them closed afterwards – and finally continued on to Wu's. That had taken longer than he was expecting – almost a half-hour – but he got a pretty good selection for the kids, so he's definitely going to be popular when he sees them tomorrow. Getting unto his motorcycle, he turned on his helmet's Bluetooth and the sweet sound of Queen immediately filled his ears. Singing along – badly – to the words, James started the drive to Wu's. Traffic's looking good, his nap might have put him a little behind schedule (he should remember to set his alarm next time) but the drive isn't that long, for the first time in ages he actually feel's well-rested and pretty soon he's going to be partaking in some delicious food. Tonight's looking like a good start to a well-deserved break.

[Assistant]
A pink blur zipped all over the museum. That blur was followed by a few drones filming his every move. That pink blur was Dynamo, better known as Cameron Mason. According to his manager, there was something going on at the museum, and it would make a perfect caper for an episode. Cameron wasn't so sure about filming this, but his manager told him people loved it. If that was true, who was he to complain? It was his job to make people happy!

"Cameron pay attention! There's a action happening. If we don't get Dynamo on camera, this will have all been for nothing!" Cameron's manager said from an earpiece in his ear.

Cameron soon found the action his manager was talking about. There were a bunch of other heroes here. How was Cameron not the first one here with his speed? Well whatever. He could still do something. One of which was a man brutally beating up another robber. Cameron had to intervene. He ran right in between his them. "Whoa whoa whoa! Stop that mister! That's mean!" He then turned his attention to the guy he was beating up. "You must be a robber. "IIIIIIIIIIIII'm Dynamooooooo!" He exclaimed while striking a pose and flashing a peace sign. "You should put that stuff you took back. Pwease?"

"Your asking nicely?! Hit him Cameron! We need action!" His manager yelled in his earpiece.