[System]
Age: 22
Appearance:
Height: 6'1''
Weight: 185 lbs.
Likes: games, horror movies, fine dining, jazz, reading, flirting.
Dislikes: camping, violence, bad cooking, laziness, rude behavior, getting stuck in the rain.
Party Trick: Knows a variety of card tricks and mind games. Is also very good at billiards.
Profession: Dealer at Shine City Player's Casino
Bio/Personality: Yutaro is a mellow young man who is most often seen wearing a welcoming smile. He likes to meet new people, but usually keeps conversations casual, reserving more personal information for those he becomes close with. Not one for conflict, he'd rather go with the flow than argue with someone... or just leave if the company is unbearable. Yutaro has dated several girls in the past few years, but has not been in a serious relationship since he broke up with his high school sweetheart. Yutaro is an all-around gaming enthusiast, be it card games, video games, board games, or gambling. He received a degree in business and moved to Shine City to find his fortune. He obtained a job at the City Player's Casino and has intentions to move into upper management. He lives alone in his apartment, and is currently building up his savings so he can begin his own business endeavors.
Theme:

[User]
"No can do, cowboy. Me sleeping in your bed would probably piss him off too. Haven't you seen a horror movie?" 'Would she be disppointed if I admitted I'm a little bitch when it comes to horror? he pondered before dismissing the thought as she continued, "It's non-negotiable, Kyle. I sleep on your couch at your place or the hostel. Your pick."

Damn...harsh. She gave him the ultimatum, but answered his questions first, she told him that she was just closing up and exclaimed when he asked about the flannel, "Oh, right!" She pulled keys from her pocket giving them to Kyle, "It's upstairs in my bedroom, I think probably by the bed. It's sort of a mess, but the dishes are clean, which is the important part. You can head on up and I'll follow you after I've finished closing---."

Suddenly a third voice interrupted, "Er, sorry tae bother ye, mates." Kyle turned to face the newcomers, a petite girl with long hair and a fairly thick irish accent, she's the one that spoke, there was another person with her and by her side was a dog. "...But I was wondering if ye have any Jasmine and Orchids? A friend of mine 'as a birthday comin' up."

Nori began explaining about the flowers until she was distracted by the dog coming over. She kneeled down to pet the canine as it came to greet her, "Sorry we look like drowned rats, we had an accident with the water hose," she turns to wink at Kyle. Again she covered his butt and he was pretty thankful for that, a bashful smile crossing his lips as he goes to scratch his neck. The dog suddenly seems curious in the new individual next to Nori as Moose comes to sniff at Kyle. He too crouches down in front of the beast and extends the back of his hand to allow the dog to come to him first, cautiously it leans forward and sniffs before licking Kyle's hand.

"There's a good boy," he begins before vigorously showing Moose some love, petting the animal, scratching him and giving firm pats on the sides. Lost in the moment Kyle suddenly reverts back to English, "(Who's a good boy? You are! yes you are! Yes. You. Are!)" Various other sounds begin to emerge from Kyle's throat as he plays with the dog, everything from playful growls to something along the lines of herp and derp. Moose seems to enjoy the attention as far as Kyle can tell.

Suddenly a cold shiver runs up Kyle, he really needed to get the flannel. Saddened he'd have to part with the dog, he says his goodbyes, "Well moose, I need warm clothes, it was nice meeting you, keep it real dog." He gives Moose another firm scratch behind the ears before standing up and looking over at Nori, "I'll see you upstairs." He smiles, tempted to peck her on the cheek, but thought better of it while she was being all professional right now. He nods to the newcomers before making his way out the store and towards Nori's apartment door. Before entering the wall catches his attention, there's a giant hole in it, the same giant hole that Nori had showed him on her phone; he tries not to think about it before unlocking the door and heading inside.

---

9:30 PM, Kyle's Apartment

'Why in the fuck did I agree to do this?' Kyle thought, pale horror masking his face as he stared at the end credits to the movie they had just watched. Everything was going pretty well, after Kyle retrieved his shirt and Nori closed up the store, they had gone to the super mart to get some food, Kyle having offered to make the blonde haired DJ a delicious meal*. After checking out and returning to the apartment, Kyle cooked dinner and both agreed to watch a movie while eating. Kyle pulled up redflix and Nori got to pick the movie (since she was the guest), in her quest she had stumbled upon some horror film "When It Rains, It Pours". The movie was one of those "based on a true story" types all about 'The Weatherman', Nori insisted upon it for the sake of 'research'.

Kyle...reluctantly agreed and was now regretting having watched it, judging by Nori's face, it looked like she was regretting the decision as well.

Dollie

The meal is a Pork roast, seasoned with salt, pepper, paprika, lemon zest and garlic cloves. For sides, grilled bell peppers and onions for a light and healthy taste. Amity's cake is still in the fridge from before for desert.

[Assistant]
9:30pm, Streets of Shine City
Akane found herself once more enamored with her studious work. Another cold, night walk home. She hated the cold. With a flip of her bright red scarf, Akane moved it over her face in attempt to keep the cool air from reaching her. Just like any other boring walk home, Akane found her eyes captivated by her cell phone. 9:30... She quickly tapped at her phone to change the radio station until she found the Shine City Radio station. Oddly quiet... Well except for the music, but no host? Akane shrugged. When she moved to Shine City, she became accustomed to listening to the broadcaster make his outlandish announcements, before switching back to classical, more soothing music of her own. Perhaps she was the outlandish one, but the piano music she always listened to was her favorite, and listening to it helped her play.

As the music started to play into her ears, Akane's thoughts began to wander. Random topics mostly... Like the ten cats she had still put off getting, and of course, she thought back to her time at the tournament with James. It was a shame the two of them had just played, but she still had a wondrous time finally interacting with someone. He knew what he was talking about, and Akane wasn't going to forget about his offer to play her sometime. She hatched her plans to practice and master the game she so attentively watched others play. It couldn't be too hard. There was no way she was to let James win. She had already understood the game completely, but quickly switching her fingers all over the controller wasn't as easy as the pros made it look. It was nothing like the piano she had kept so close, but perhaps she could relate the two in some way, or set up some formula for her controls. Gah, that's no way to look at this. I just need to practice.

Akane shook her head a slight amount as if coming out of her thoughts. The arcade wasn't far, but it was also late. With a short sigh, Akane spun on her heels. She didn't have anything to do ever, and there was likely no one there to bother her! This was the opportune time to go out and practice! It would take a few minutes to make it there, but Akane didn't care.

Cranking up the volume on her cell, Akane tuned out once more, barely paying attention to where she was actually headed. Her mind was enthralled with reminiscence of the tournament. She was still a bit far, but it wouldn't take long, though the cold, biting air was making Akane rather annoyed. Perhaps she'd run into him there... No, of course not, and I would still need to practice so there is no chance of losing! Akane glanced inside the Shining Kettle as she passed it on her route. Thoughts of stopping inside swirled in her head, and her eyes flicked to the window to see if any interesting persons had gathered inside. Not that she would be willing to approach strangers, but perhaps a friend of hers (of the few she had) had similar nighttime plans.

As Akane peered at her reflection in the mirror, a small object appeared next to her, making her jump a little. She peered down and nearly jumped once more as she realized the cat that had strode up next to her. Akane brought her hands up to cover her mouth. Her weakness! She couldn't help but lean down and begin to pet the small, rugged looking cat. It must have been a stray from the look of its condition, living off of the food scraps that people like Akane gave it. But alas! Akane didn't have any suitable cat food on her! It was a sad day. Akane had taken to distracting herself with the stray feline for many minutes. He was rather friendly, and a perfect companion for someone who didn't much enjoy talking. That day a new friendship was born!


[System]
---

SETTLEMENT: Fireflies

AGE: 30

OCCUPATION: Hunter by day, Bartender by night.

APPEARANCE: Astor is a dark-haired man with medium-length hair, a thick beard, and somewhat severe features. However, when he's dealing with patrons or his fellow settlers, he's all smiles and friendly expressions. He typically dresses comfortably and cleanly. When going on a hunt, he favors earth tones and thick, warm clothing. His casual and bar tending attire, on the other hand, are a bit more relaxed and light. Sometimes he'll throw on some bright colored accessory to attract attention.

FAMILY: Mother and Father, Aloys and Liane, who own and work at The Damn Pub.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

FRIENDS: Astor is friendly with most of the residents of Fireflies, as well as some of the hunters and traders from Water Leafs. He is an open mind and a willing ear when tending bar in Fireflies, and he is helpful and courteous when he is out hunting or returning with the spoils of a hunt.

Many local traders and craftsmen appreciate his attention to detail when he brings them the spoils of a hunt, and most of the patrons he serves tend to enjoy the different dishes he makes with what game he is able to keep for himself (and therefore the bar).

Astor also maintains a good relationship with the guards and other hunters, who he often looks to for training and advice.

HOBBIES: Hunting (obviously), Fishing (occasionally), Cooking, Camping, Crafting (sewing, leatherworking, whittling, etc.).

BIOGRAPHY: Astor grew up in the Fireflies settlement, the child of Aloys and Liane Ermengilde, who had been the owners and operators of The Damn Pub for most of their marriage. Being their son came with several potential benefits for Astor, who remains well aware of said benefits.

First among the benefits that could've been Astor's was the breadth of options that were available to him. Many residents of Fireflies looked to drink for comfort, and made offers to the Ermengildes of training for their son, should they offer free or discounted drinks in return.

Astor's second benefit, of course, was the relative wealth that he grew up with. Owning the most popular pub around, his parents were able to ensure that he never went hungry, and that he never had to wear clothes to the point that they fell apart.

This fact on it's own might have caused him to grow up with a bad attitude, were it not for the third benefit; exposure.

Astor grew up helping out around the pub, listening to the stories and laments of the patrons, receiving advice and warnings in equal measure. Because of this, he learned to be grateful for his prosperity, and decided to try and give at least something back to the community - seeking out training as a hunter.

Astor has been keeping up his efforts for most of his adult life, and has little to complain about. The conflict with Water Leafs has left him concerned for the future, but as of the present, he has yet to have a good, realistic idea for a possible solution.

[User]
I might've bit off more than I can chew." Astor thought, grunting as he adjusted his grip on the wooden poles he'd lashed together.

I should see about getting a cart or a wagon. Maybe a pony to carry some of this weight.

He had bound the wolf carcasses to a set of wooden poles he'd cut from saplings, and was now dragging them back towards Fireflies from the forest. The wolves were wrapped in an old tarp, something he'd bought from an older trader a while back for rainwater collection. Hopefully, it'd keep him from tracking blood all through the forest.

It only took him a few hours to reach the outskirts of the settlement. Breathing heavily, he stopped before the guards to declare himself.

"Morning fellas. It's Astor, back from a hunt. Got two wolves. From a pack of ten. Anyone in the market for a new coat?"

[Assistant]
Another day in the yard, with a few hares bundled up in a dirty, brown bag. Verelik had just come back from the forest, after snagging some hares from some traps he had set up the previous night. It wasn't necessary to bring a rifle for this particular task, but he brought it as usual, in case an early bird deer strolled by. After all, he had left at five in the morning, as those hares came out just as the morning dew would settle.

He had already collected them though, of course. Now he was in the yard, skinning them each one by one, a task he had performed countless times already. It wasn't yet seven, so Alyssa would still be asleep. Verelik finished the first hare and hung it up by the legs on his second clothes line, which he used for hunting instead. Since he had only recently moved into this particular house, nothing here was yet second nature. He'd have to fix this all up and make it feel like home for the third time again.

By the time the clock tower's bell rang, he had finished. Blood dripped onto the concrete beneath the hares. As a kid he had learned there used to be vegetarians, though of course food is not so easily forged these days. Good thing, too, or he'd probably lose his job. He arched his back and rolled his neck, before heading back inside.

The house wasn't very furnished, but it did its duty. Verelik dumped his bag near his rifle and walked over to the kitchen. Guess we'll have hare kebab again.

He began cooking, occasionally letting it cook while he looked out the window, watching settlers head to their respective duties. He had a coffee mug in his hand, and took a sip every now and then. Occasionally, he heard footsteps from Alyssa's room. She was awake, so he finished up with the food and set them down at the table. As if on cue, she stepped into the main room, her hair tied back into a simple ponytail that reached just below her neck, save two locks of hair let loose at the sides, followed by side-swept bangs crossing to her left. She shared the same brunette hair as her father, along with the blue eyes. Without saying much of a word, she sat down at the table, made a slight grunt, and began eating, all while Verelik sipped coffee and read some paper. This was their way of signifying the two's relationship, while seeming dormant, it was rather caring.

Halfway through eating her meal, Verelik spoke. "Looks like Fay's still teaching. She'll probably be your teacher."
Alyssa had to quickly swallow what she had in her mouth before responding. "You didn't think she'd be there?"
Verelik looked up from the paper, his eyebrow slightly raised. He hesitated before speaking. "That's not what I meant. I don't know, it was idle talk."
"Uh-huh." Alyssa continued eating.
Verelik put down the paper and gulped the rest of the coffee. "Come on, Aly, it's only been a year."
She finally looked up at Verelik, with a slight raised eyebrow. She was in the middle of chewing, but her face still screamed "I'm pouting right now".
He sighed, then got up from his seat. "Sure, be like that. I'm getting my jacket, make sure you wash up, 'kay?" Without waiting for a response, he walked off to his room. Alyssa shrugged and finished her meal.

It was almost 8, but luckily the school was of walking distance. Verelik had been in the shower for long enough now, even though he had said he'd only grab his jacket. In the mean time, Alyssa had washed up and was now enjoying a simple hobby. She was good at lots of things, thanks to her father's skill teaching, and one of those things was darts. That, along with the standard survival skill set that Verelik would of course teach her. Darts however was simple to play, and easy to set up. There was no time to enjoy a song on the guitar or climb the tree in the back. "501, let's go!"
At that moment, she heard Verelik finish his shower. She groaned. "Alright, let's get at least 100 then." She had three darts. She pulled her arm back, then let it fly. She aimed for the inner 20, but got the non-ringed patch. "80." Another dart flew, this time aimed for the outer 20. It landed, and she smiled. "Niiice, 40! One more!" She held the dart up, took a breath, an--

"Hey, Sweet Cheeks, what're you doing there?"

The dart flew off into the wall rather than the board. She slowly looked at Verelik, who was smirking with his arms crossed, while leaning against the wall. She tried to be angry, but she lost her composure and giggled. He smiled back. "Okay, I owe you one. Remind me later, but for now, let's go."

The walk to the school was brisk. It was known to both of them that the Lover's Incident ended up lowering their reputation, though the looks weren't common, most likely due to the morning rush. They arrived at the school, just as a group of other kids crowded Fay. The clock tower above them rang, signalling that 8th hour. Alyssa and Verelik walked up to the group, and Verelik patted Alyssa's back and slightly nudged her forward, while smiling in the general direction of Fay and the kids. "Good luck, try not to beat the boys up."
"Dad..." She looked sheepish.
Verelik chuckled. "Alright, alright, have fun now, yeah?" He looked over at Fay and nodded. "Nice to see you again, Fay. Look after Aly for me." As he said that, Alyssa walked over to the group, looking for familiar faces.

[User]
Fay smiled sweetly and tucked a stray strand of hair behind the ear of Emma. "That's quite alright, dear." The young teacher looked up and waved at Dillan, but he didn't notice. With a pat on the back, she send Emma towards the other kids before counting them all again and letting her finger land on Alyssa, who was walking over together with her father. All complete, she thought to herself. The administration of the school had already signalled her Alyssa would be joining her class again. Alyssa was a lovely and bright kid, and Fay of course had no objection. She expected her to turn up this morning. She did not, however, expect her father to come along with her. She pushed her glasses back up her nose as Alyssa and Verelik stood by her side. She hadn't seen him since he left to Water Leafs. Something that, in some way, did something to her. "Hello Alyssa, good to have you back." She smiled sweetly at the young girl before she took off to her classmates.

Fay turned towards Verelik as the children made their way to the stone steps that led to way towards the school building. The small woman had to arch her neck to look the tall man in the eyes. "It's good to see you again too. And ofcourse, you know I always will." She had to push up her glasses along the bridge of her nose again. "Thank you for dropping her off."

---

Lee smirked as Dillan sat down with a sigh and a sarcastic comment. Dillan, his partner in the Guard, was the total opposite of him. He was more laid back, sarcastic, and a little grumpy, while Lee was cheerful, active and above all, a real morning person. But that did not mean that Lee couldn't be serious, and that Dillan couldn't be fun. As partners, they complimented each other. Lee could easily call Dillan his best friend. They weren't always like this, of course. They didn't grow up together. But they bonded over the fact that they both have to raise little girls. Even though his little girl fay is now a big girl, she's still little in Lee's mind.

They even had a bromoment, when Dillan didn't for the life of him know what to do with a girls hair. Lee taught him the trick: braiding. It was easy to do and kept the hair in place. They practiced it on Fay, much to her dismay. Emma was already 10 years old. Time goes fast.

"Good morning sunshine. He grinned as he threw Dillan a water bottle. Up here, it could get kind of warm. He took a sip of his own bottle and already longed for the lunch his sister would be bringing him.

Mid stretch, Lee heard a voice outside the gates. He leaned over the wall and looked down into the face of Astor. "Hey Astor! Good going, my man. My coat game is good, but I've been wanting another carpet."  He smirked before signalling down to open the gates for the hunter. "And you should be in the market for a shower."  he added.

[Assistant]
"Ugh." Astor said dramatically, waving a hand under his nose in an exaggerated motion, smiling. "Don't remind me. I'll have to head home and scrub down before my shift at the pub tonight, or Mom'll give me an earful."

Continuing on into town, Astor waved to Lee and Dillon as he passed, calling back; "Hey Lee! If you're serious about that carpet, swing by my place in a few days! I'll see if I can get the pelt treated and ready for you by then!"

With a few new items on his itinerary, Astor made his way towards The Damn Pub - where he had a small apartment built into the rear face of the building. The trek seemed much less strenuous once he didn't have to worry about snagging on tree roots or looking over his shoulder for the rest of the wolf pack, and he found himself leaning his pole-bound carcasses against the stairs that led up to his dwelling within twenty minutes or so.

"First thing's first." He muttered, kicking off his boots, stripping off his outer jacket, and trudging up the smooth wooden stairs with them in his arms. Showers were never quite a pleasant affair for Astor, given his jury-rigged setup (something that didn't quite qualify as plumbing). But he was eager to get clean, and didn't want to go through the steps necessary for a hot shower.

Stripping as he went through his "compact" apartment and dumping his soiled clothes into the laundry tub, he stepped into his cramped tile shower stall and pulled on the rope that would allow some water to cascade down over him from the water tank that had been installed on the roof above. Rainwater, mostly, though he would occasionally climb up to collect some for boiling and drinking or cooking.

The shower was quick and miserable - freezing cold water, rough soap, and a too-coarse towel made sure that he was all too happy to be done.

"I've got to look into a bathtub some time. Maybe I could get a wooden one if I brought one of the carpenters some prime game." He muttered, teeth chattering as he dried himself off and jumped into some fresh clothes.


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

[User]
The room seemed to quiet down, and everyone took a breather as the floating disks were no longer a threat for the moment. York smiled through his mustache, amused as usual. "Well, that was a bit more hazardous than I had hoped." he said. The next move from Neil was sudden. As if Neil's arm was being used by some unseen force, his elbow shot back and struck York in the chest, sending the man skidding across the ground.

Sparks shot out from Neil's tattoo, and he blinked, anyone in his line of sight could see that he had somewhat regained control of himself. "What?" he mouthed, confused as to what was occurring. He didn't have time to continue however, because suddenly his body began to spasm and contort, and he fell from his standing position to being curled up on the ground. The soldier's trained their guns on him, superstitious fear evident in their eyes.

"Hold fire!" York declared, gathering himself up and and dusting off his vest. Those that were physically closer to Neil could hear his seething breathes of pain. It was a new sound. He had been hit, thrown around, cut, and even shot, and he had never made these kinds of agonizing noises. It was as if something was touching and stretching his very nervous system. Sweat began beading off of his arms and what part of his face people could see through the thrashing, and a shoulder 'popped', though whether out of place or back into place, no one was certain.

And then the pilot slumped into the floor, limp and motionless. The marines held their rifles up, but they relaxed a bit after moments of no movement. Taya turned and buried her face into Sayeeda's shoulder, unable to process what where they were or what was happening. Saxon gave a guttural chuckle. "It looks like his luck had finally run out." he rumbled. Woods and Sven gave him a sideways glare, though for different reasons. Woods for romantic plans foiled, and Sven because logically, Neil was their best chance for escape.

It was fortunate for everyone that Neil groaned moments later, and a few gasps were heard as he drew himself up to a sitting position, looking more or less his old self. "Fuck," he breathed, scratching his head and blinking, as if to get used to light his eyes weren't used to. "That hurt more than I thought it would."

Woods and Junebug both looked relatively relieved, though it would only be if one looked close. Taya instead ran to him and gave him a hug. He hugged her back, appreciating that was always going to be the one with her heart on her sleeve. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he repeated to her questions of what happened and how she believed him to be dead. York cleared his throat and stepped forward, inclining his head. "It is good to have you back as yourself, my boy. What exactly did happen?"

"Just me having 2 million years of Alien knowledge uploaded into my brain." Neil said.

"Bullshit." Woods said, eyeing him.

"...Yeah it is. Well, mostly. I do know the layout of this place better, and its function." he said, getting to his feet and stretching. He continued to explain at York's insistence. The men lowered their weapons with a wave of Wood's hand. "I was being whispered to in my mind." Neil explained. "Echoes in my head... I did see images. Images I never thought I would see. Places in the universe I had never been to. Monsters I had never seen. Science beyond ours...I even saw early man. I don't know. But, what I mostly saw was the history of this facility. And I know it's a fail safe facility, against the God Machine near the equator."

"Where do we go now?" Junebug asked.

Neil pointed down the leftmost corridor. A lowlight hall with hexagonal dimensions that never quite closed into shape, defying the eye's expectations for what was meant to be and what was. Neil cleared his throat. "The rest of the facility is that way. The other three doors go to living stations, or have collapsed." He said. The air through that tunnel did smell more fresh than the stale, recycled air that permeated the room they were currently in.

"Let's move out!" Woods called, and the men hopped to, moving into Delta formation and keeping their rifles trained on their 9 and 12s, though they visibly blinked and shifted every time their eyes passed over the strange proportions of the hallways interior. Neil strode at the front, walking through and speaking about the things he garnered from his brief entrancement. "You know, it's pretty wild they developed their civilization two million years before we invented the written word. I think they began their first interplanetary travel with Muon-catalyzed fusion, like we did."

"Neil?" Junebug asked. He zipped his lip and looked at her, expectantly. "You said this place was a failsafe, as well as a research facility."

"Yeah." Neil said.

"Failsafe how?"

"By Decimation." a voice said behind them. They all turned in an instant, guns trained on something they least expected. One of the Old Ones stood there, though it was not flesh and blood. It was a hologram. Sven immediately scanned the apparition, and confirmed it as an A.I. system, albeit a bit rudimentary for the heights of technological advancement this race could usually achieve. The hologram continued. "The chosen one is correct, it is a failsafe. Something to be activated in only the most dire circumstances."

Junebug gave Neil a questioning look. He nodded. "In other words, we're standing on a star system sized bomb."

[Assistant]
Junebug swept the barrel of her rifle back and forth through the head of hologram experimentally. The picture shimmered slightly but showed no other sign of having noticed. York was looking at Neil with an expression she couldn't read but didn't seem to her to bode very well. Everyone else seemed frozen by the unexpected turn of events.

"What happened to the men who vanished?" Junebug asked, walking in a circle around the alien projection. No matter what angle she assumed it seemed to be facing directly at her but there was no transition whatsoever.

"All non essential querants are to be terminated," the hologram responded. Junebug glanced to Woods who looked grim but clearly hadn't expected any other answer.

"Are we in danger now?" Junebug asked.

"All non essential querants are to be terminated," the hologram repeated.

"Can N...er 'the chosen one' deem us essential querants?" Junebug asked.

"That is not the function of the chosen one. That functionality is not essential."

"Why do you…" the hologram flickered and vanished and the whole building shuddered. Dust rained down from the ceiling. A second later another hammerblow struck the structure.

"That's orbital bombardment," York noted, he rubbed at his chest and cast an irritated glance at Neil. The Chacedon ships must have either destroyed the November Sky or driven it back into the RIP long enough to resume their attack. The shield that had held the Terran's off must have been immensely strong to prevent them from being instantly obliterated. Junebug didn't want to think about what that meant for the Highlander right now.

"Neil, whatever the fuck you need to do we need to do it now," she snapped grabbing Taya by the shoulder and pulling her away from the pilot. Seconds mattered right now and she couldn't afford to waste valuable seconds calming the girl down.

"Wait just a min…" York began but Junebug had nonchalantly swung her weapon to bear on the spook. She didn't make a point of it but it was obvious that the Terran recognised the threat.

"Not a discussion," she said in a voice that held no more warmth than a blizzard. Woods and her surviving two marines shifted uncomfortably. Saxon raised his arm and Sven seemed to produce a knife from nowhere. It still wouldn't have been great odds. Sayeeda was confident she could put down York but the angle would preclude her from taking any of the remaining three Terrans. It was possible that Saxon and Sven would put them down, but it was vanishingly unlikely they would manage it before the chamber was filled with an unsurvivable amount of gunfire. Another tremor shook the building, this one was worse than the last by orders of magnitude.

"Its not the Chacedons," Neil said unexpectedly. Everyone paused and looked at the pilot whose eyes were very wide.

"Its starting to wake up."


[System]
Age: 16
Race: Human(?)
Gender: Female

Appearance:
Druid Girl is an attractive young woman with healthy, shiny caramel-colored skin, long, silky and glossy black hair as well as bright, sunny eyes with the color of gold. She stands at just above average height, with a well-defined body, ample bosom, taut stomach and curvy legs. She is not slim or slender though, but neither is she chubby or overly plump, instead she sports a healthy and trim physique, with well-sculpted limbs and digits.

As for her attire, it is very simplistic. During late spring through to early autumn, she wears a cropped, hooded vest, a white tight-fitting bandeau on her chest - exposing her midriff completely, along with a pelvic curtain - held in place by a long-tailed sash - with many fabrics woven into it. On her feet she wears a pair of multi-strapped, but simple, sandals and on her forearms she wears a pair of simple cloth bracers. She also adorns her hair with two, long, snow-white feathers - one on each side of her head. Also worth noting is that the sash she wears has a handful of small bells hanging from it. During late autumn to early spring, her "winter clothes" consists of a hooded coat instead of the vest, a woolen shirt instead of the bandeau and a long skirt, with leggings underneath, isntead of the curtained skirt. She also wears boots and gloves instead of the sandals and bracers.

Druid Girl's voice is sweet and gentle, but full of life and vibrant energy. She is very expressive, both in her face and body-language. She has no qualms about showing physical affection for those she likes or cares for, hugging or embracing them without a smidge of embarrassment. By the same token though, it's eaasy to tell when she's upset and/or angry. Also, despite being a human, her unnaturally colored eyes seem to hint at some non-human blood running through her veins, though exactly what is far too distant and far-removed to have any actual impact on her psyche or body.

Height: 5'5" / 166 cm
Eye Color: Gold
Hair Color: Black

Personality:
Druid Girl is a friendly and kind person, with a love for life and the world around her. She is bright and cheerful, but can be mischievous and physically playful - especially with other girls. She loves nature and animals, which were the main reasons she chose to train as a druid in the first place. Additionally, the young woman loves good food and almost all manner of sweets, which often leads to her getting depressed as a druid should not eat or want more food than they actually need. While she likes animals she does not keep pets, and does not like the concept of domestication.

Also, Druid Girl loathes those who are cruel, and even more so if its targeted against those that are weak or unable to defend themselves. She also cannot stand for pointless destruction or those who indulge in great excess. She has a very hard time for anyone who believes in racial supremacy too, as well as those who discriminate agains others because of their species or gender. Unlike many druids or nature-lovers though, she does not begrudge the construction of towns and cities, as long as they don't grow too large or cause too much damage to the surrounding areas. She prefers to be out in the wild though, or at least outdoors, to being couped up inside buildings or indoors, as it can cause her to feel a slight bit of claustrophobia.

Druid Girl also doesn't hold grudges, nor does she stay mad for long. Even if insulted or angered, it will fade rather quickly and she has an easy time returning to her regular, happy and kind self. This, of course, does not apply to beings of an unnatural state though, such as the undead or beings that don't belong in this world. Any and all creatures of this kind are abominations in her eyes, and should be expunged with extreme and immediate measures. She can also get irritated when people whine about things like rain, winter or the sweltering heat of summer, finding it pointless to complain about things that they cannot change, but can handle in one way or another.

In her spare time, she likes to take walks in forests and meadows while singing, as well as checking on the local wildlife and tending to plants and trees.

Likes: Animals, Nature, Kindness, Delicious food, Sweets, All seasons
Dislikes: Cruelty, Wildlife exploitation, Senseless destruction, Unnatural beings (undead, demons, etc), People complaining about weeather and seasons
Hobbies: Singing, Forest strolls, Tending nature, Snacking on foods & sweets, Bathing, Teasing

History:
Druid Girl was born and grew up in a rural village in the western parts of the kingdom. Her parents were simple folk, her father a farmhand and her mother a daycare nurse. From an early age, she was brought along to both parents workplaces, being shown both the importance of crops and the kidness of caring for others. The girl never complained about this though, she loved her family and was happy to be with, and helping them. She espcially liked working with her father, who would show her how different crops grew, how to deal with animals and even how and where to do simple foraging. Her mother taught her more in the ways of showing kindness, the values of helping others and that why not to be spiteful or mean.

It was a peaceful time and though life wasn't always easy, it was still full of warmth of joy. As she grew older, she would take more and more interest in the things that nature could and would provide - flowers, mushrooms, nuts, roots, various types of grass and even the wild beasts that lived there. This growing interest however meant she spent less and less time aiding her parents willingly, which began to cause friction. Eventually, these little disagreements became arguments, and eventually full-blown conflicts. Finallye, Druid Girl left her house after a particularly nasty confrontation with her parents.

She left her home and her village and began to wander the great outdoors. However, even with the little information her father had provided, surviving on her own proved far tougher than she had expected. On the verge of both freezing to death and starving, she was found by a wanderer - a wanderer who happaned to be an arch druid himself. After being fed and being allowd to share his campfire, the girl told her tale and explained herself, her interest and curiosity about nature and the wilds. At first the old man urged her to return to her family, but she insisted that she wouldn't do so until she could prove that her desire to know and explore nature was more than just self-indulgence, she wanted to prove that it could be useful to both her and others. The old druid sighed and told her that, if she so desired, she could become his apprentice - on the condition that once she finished training, she would return to her family and show off the fruits of her labor.

Agreeing in a heartbeat, with the brightest smile this side of the world, Druid Girl had no hesitation or doubts when taking the old man up on his offer. The next few years were spent studying and learning from her mentor, who taught her many things, both about flora an fauna. He taught her how to speak to animals and plants, where to look and how to move to find things or places, as well as teaching her the basic arts of druidic magics. Once she reached about her mid-teens, her master eventually told her that her training was complete, congratuating his student and wishing her well - in addition to reminding her of her promise and the responsabilities she now had as a druid herself.

Returning to her home, Druid Girl was sure that she would be able to show off her knowledge and skills to her parents, allowing them to mend the rift that had been caused those many years ago. Upon her return though, she found that her father had fallen ill and her mother was worked to the bone, having to both care for her sickly husband as well as do her job to bring home money for the pair. When she first arrived, her mother was quick to lecture and scold her, then pointing out her father's condition. However, once the daughter went outside and returned with some plants and herbs, brewed a tea and used her spellcraft to help heal her ailing father, the tune changed quite rapidly. Much bawling and apologizing was had - from both parties - and the reconciliation was a success.

With her father on the road to recovery and with her mother's tearful blessings, Druid Girl agains set out on the road, heading eastward. She had heard that there was a new town in the far-frontier, a place which surely could use the help and skills of a druid to aid in keeping the wilderness in check, or at bay. So she began her journey, on the slippery, slithering pathway of adventure.

[User]
Steppe Archer couldn't help but cringe at the sight of the quest detailing the slaying of roaches...after what had happened to the Guard lady she'd been adventuring with, she hated to think of one of her companions or herself contracting that disease as well. But thankfully, it seemed her companions weren't intent on doing that one, what with the question Big Red posed of whether they could take on two quests nearby. She had a feeling he meant the Goblin Nest extermination as well as the escort mission; It sounded like a good enough idea. And they'd net over 100 copper each if they managed to complete both. Even more if they found the adventure party that had departed before. Still, she had to wonder what happened to them...were goblins such a huge threat out here? She'd heard they were tricky, and liked to gang up on stronger people to take them down fast but...she figured adventurers were tougher.

Still, it was an opportunity to earn a huge sum of money...so long as they dealt with the goblins. The escort sounded simple.

Smiling, Steppe Archer would give the Druid Girl a smile, saying: "An escort sounds super simple. Plus with the three of us, we're covered for basically anything. We have my bow, your magic, and Big Red's strength!" The girl was fairly confident they could manage. But, she would quickly add: "If we're going to take on that goblin quest while we're there though, we should bring things to heal ourselves with. After all, goblins don't fight fair."

[Assistant]
The reptilian man listened and waited calmly while the Guild Girl checked her information about the option for taking multiple jobs. Her answer pleased him and earned her a nod. "Alright, thank you for the info." He rumbled out before moving up behind the two girls. Druid Girl poked at the Escort Quest and Archer Girl was all for it as well. The bow user made a good observation as well.

"Nothing that's fighting for survival fights fair. I'll see if there's more information on the Goblins." He said to the pair as he took the two quests down. "But for gear we'll definitely need torches, probably at least one antidote each, and one healing potion each." He said while handing Druid Girl his portion of the reward from the Patrol Quest. They could shop while he got the information desired.

Back to the Quest Counter he moved and slid the two quests over to the Guild Girl to register them. "I'd like some information these two jobs. Potential dangers on the Escort Job. Also rough amount of goblins, what was the size of the previous party, anything that'd help honestly." Big Red requested. Best to be prepared than dead right?


[System]
Age: 30

Sex: Male

Appearance: 6'2" with black hair and blue eyes. White skinned. Noticeable facial hair at the chin and finely trimmed. Sporting a more Westerly appearance with a short and thin leather duster coat, white button-up shirt with a popped-out collar and a loose scarf-like tie, dark faded blue jeans, and boots.

"Shh, I'm focusing...And trying to look intimidating."

Like many of the Societas Academia, Travis has a very good understanding how magic functions and how certain spells are performed. Being an Untalent however, much of what he has learned is unfortunately outside of his realm of implementation and only gets by with the bare basics of each aspect. But to him, this is perfectly fine; the spells Travis can produce by himself are considered useful survival tools in order to help him get by.

His real prowess is through the deciphered tomes and runes recovered throughout his journeys, capable of extending his abilities beyond his current potential. Though if anything, they too are yet another means of allowing him dissect and better understand their magical functionalities and eventually reproduce their effects in more manageable and efficient methods.

Funnily enough, given his recent and occasionally perilous encounters, Travis has been seen to be a rather surprisingly athletic runner.

"Magic is simply another form of science that is growing and evolving as we continue to discover and learn more about it."

Being an Untalent amongst a rather social community of more capable Talents can definitely be rough. Condemned to a lesser status because of one's natural inability to coordinate with magic fluidly was the fate many Untalents within the Societas Academia faced almost daily. Travis however didn't seem to be bothered by this too much. In fact, he was perhaps too busy studying and discussing theories to really care at all.

While as an Untalent and indeed had higher expectations set against him by his self-deserving peers, he enthusiastically conceptualized these endeavors as welcomed challenges in order solve rather petty societal crises to stress about. Though Travis was no ace mage and was more likely a magician as far as skills go, his main strength was his constructed knowledge base with a fierce understanding of the architecture of mana and magic implementation.

After years of hard study and grueling practice, Travis eventually achieved the rank of Aspect trainee and began the next phase of his training. Without any particular proficiency found in any particular set of spells, he would then opt-in into the Aspect of Scholar. As one would expect from his intuitive personality, Travis had felt right at home with his new position and became eager to set out for new discoveries.

What he didn't know was how cruel and horrifying the world could be outside the Societas Academia. The concept of death was something many students were well versed in, some more than others, but to experience and its many forms was something rather undesirable. Thus for Travis, now a Scholar, would soon come to know and witness this concept on more than one occasion as he pursues his quest for knowledge.

"So I spoke to an ebony dressed lady from the Cult of the Enlightened. We actually had a pleasant conversation until I asked about the concept of soul weaving. She laughed. Her fur coat cried. Suffice to say, I left in a hurry."

Despite his humble demeanor, surprisingly as an Untalent, Travis is certainly not afraid to speak his mind and express his views when necessary, sometimes comical or sarcastic if it benefits the mood. Being an easily fascinated and curious sort, he takes his role as a Scholar by heart (if not seriously) and seeks knowledge whenever he can find it; until it gets him into trouble. Nonetheless, he does show great pride and devotion to his line of work, atypical as it may be.

Travis can sometimes be described as a pacifist or "pass-the-fist" as he himself describes it. He sees no need for violence and certainly rejects the notion of killing but acknowledges the need for self-defense if he cannot negotiate his way out of a troubling confrontation. Of course said confrontations are usually created by something he may have said or done without any harmful or insulting intent.

"When the going gets tough...See to it you're not where the tough goes."

[User]
Nemo let out a slight "Oof" from Raiya's punch. He turned around, letting out a small chuckle in response to her words. He rested his hands in his pockets and slowly started to walk back. "Back when I was gathering info on this mission I posed as one of Seidon's friends over the phone with him. Seidon brought up feeding the church members on board to "Ole Bess" if they try to cross him. At the time I didn't think much of it. I figured he probably had some pet shark that followed his boat around. I see now that isn't the case." Just as Nemo finished his sentence the entire boat shifted from a great wave. Nemo had to place his hand on the wall to keep his balance. That upset was going to be the first of many, as the waves outside had suddenly gotten much worse.

Nemo continued walking, at this point they were about halfway back to the exit to the deck. "I should of thought of it before we embarked. Even when we were fighting Seidon I found his choice of spells strange. They weren't what I thought they were gonna be. He wasn't manifesting the attacks I thought he would. You see Seidon isn't just some simple ship captain mage smuggler. Paul Seidon is is a ship captain mage smuggler that also happens to be a long affiliate of the Cult of Enlightened." Nemo explained.

"None of his personal spells match something of a cult user, but he must have gained something from that involvement. So if he doesn't use cultish magic, in our case that probably means that Ole Bess is something much worse than a shark." Nemo stated as they reached the hatch once more. Nemo swung it open to let them see outside. The storm had picked up even more, the heavy downpour of rain made it harder to see and hear anything besides the thunder crashing down on the sea intermittently. Nemo stepped outside and looked towards the sea and waited in the rain. Soon enough the same sound that shook the ship before emitted again, causing the entire ship to vibrate. If anything now that they were outside it had only grown louder.

As Nemo stared off in the distance, he spotted what he had been waiting for. Far off away from the ship a colossal tentacle slowly lurched out from the water. Even at that distance it was humongous, with a width easily double than that of a school bus. It rose from the water, but eventually sunk back down. Even that action caused a heavy displacement in the water as a result.

Nemo walked over to the edge of the ship and looked down. A flash of lightning lit up the water, letting him see a bit better on what awaited below. The brief flash outlined a great tentacled sea monster. He estimated that it was probably even larger than cargo ship itself.

"One way or the other, this ship is going down. What do we do? Well, I suppose we can hope we don't die afterwards."

[Assistant]
Raiya listened to Nemo and followed him as he walked about. While Raiya was a bit skeptical about the idea of a greater beast being tamed, she knew that they existed. Talent marks were biological mutations where a talent could be born with a genetic trait from a greater beast, after all. And Raiya did possess an eye like that of a dragon or wyrm. And her empowering tattoo was that of Yamata no Orochi, the eight headed wyrm. But the idea of taming any of those feral beasts of power without a summoning contract seemed very far fetched. Raiya was about to voice her skepticism right before a large tentacle ascended a fair distance away from the ship.

 Raiya gasped at the unsettling sight of the eldritchian monster's tentacle arising from the depths. Her heart rate was raised even higher as she followed Nemo to the side of the ship to see the outline of the monster in the depths briefly illuminated by the flash of lightning. After processing all this she looked at Nemo and said, "There has to be a way to fight that... thing. I have seen your power level briefly, I know you are holding back in every fight we have been in. Now would be the time to release everything you have at that monster." Raiya urged, "I am going to be honest with you, I am not ready to die here. My life's work has not been completed... So- If you won't take as stand against that thing, I will." Raiya stated as she summoned her pistol with the rounds of special ammo still in its chamber.

 Raiya charged her pistol with mana and proceeded to start her ritual countdown from three. After three seconds, she pulled the trigger aiming down into the depths. The bright burning light from her plasma lance burst forth from her pistol and blazed through the water of the deep. She wasn't even sure if she was aiming at the monster or not, and she wasn't even sure how effective her plasma spears would be under water, but she didn't feel like standing around would be of any use. She was very aware of the risks she was taking using her special ritual ammunition but it was all she had against something that enormous without using her God Slayer form.


[System]
Age: Born in 1684
Gender: Male
Nickname: Jersey Devil
Appearance:

Magic: Fire magic (Minor control and production of fire, the fire produces is called dragon fire, which is essentially normal fire except it burns off a magical energy in addition to natural elements. The flames can only be produced from his body. Such as a fire breathe attack or igniting his whole body in flames, and can only manipulate the flames while they have contact with his body. So he cannot redirect a fireball, but can redirect a tendril of fire.)
Draconic traits/transfiguration, passive traits such as superior physical attributes, immunity to being burned, and eternal longevity. As well as weaknesses such as vulnerability to the cold and suffer from greed and pride to varying degrees.

Transfigurations may involve temporary transforming or growing body parts such as a tail. Or transforming a hand into a dragon head. In its most advanced state the user can turn into a full dragon, but such power is hard to obtain.

Summoning dragon spirits are also possible, but usually last no longer then a minute, so their uses are more of temporary offenses or defensives as having them out too long is far too draining of energy to be useful. Examples of this are summoning a translucent, ghastly dragon serpent to block am energy based attack, or a ghost tail to swing at enemies, or even shrouding in a ghost of aura to perform a massive punch.)

Position: Witches

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Familiar:
The egg, remaining unhatched for generations, from the very first of his line of dragon witches, is said to be that of a dragons. It passively gives off a dim fire-like light and has a warming presence to it. The egg has been harnessed into a pendant, and its unique properties make the egg as a talisman instead of a familiar, helping to cast more draconic spells or temporarily summon spirits of deceased drakes. Jason keeps his familiar around his neck, for now it is more of a talisman then a familiar, but perhaps one day it may hatch.
Personality: Greedy and prideful, collecting whatever cash or treasure he can steal or collect, and he Solitary and lives as a hermit, however he may go out of his way to help a fellow witch, especially if the witch in question would pay for his services. However it isnt a rarity for him to help in the more extreme situations and not expect a reward. Living alone makes him lonely, but he is too antisocial to go out of his way to just talk to others.

Bio: Jason comes from a line of witches that worshipped the ancient (and likely now extinct) dragons, for over a thousand years worth of generations they have thrived and called themselves the order of the dragon. It is said that a great dragon spirit or god have blessed the bloodlines of the several families that made this order. However in recent decades the survivors have been killed, Except for Jason all of his family had been slain, escaping with the only treasure that had survived since the order's fall centuries prior, the dragon egg. (Dragon witches that have advanced their Draconic traits have showed to be immune to intense heat and fire, so they had to be executed via impalement.) He now lives in the woods of Salem, having made a small underground shelter beneath the soil. Salem being a popular place of witches in secret, he occasionally scouts the town from the tree lines to see if any other witches are endangered. The villagers call him the Jersey Devil due to his occasional use of transformations and his reputaton of raiding and killing travelling merchants, soldiers, or lost individuals that enter his woods, the pine barrens. (most of his reputations are rumors and tall tales by the locals, but he has at least killed plenty of people to suite the need of one of his rites every decade or so.) Many of his victims for his tributes were taken from people who wander in his woods.

Price for dragons: Dragon witches can pay for their power in different ways. For each solsitice, the witch may do one of the following, however if they fail to do any tribute, they will not only loose their powers, but will spontaneously combust or be consumed by a dragon spirit. If a witch does more then one, then they may get extra time, such as being free of needing to tribute the next solstice.
-: Smelting gold or other precious metals into either a pit, volcano, or a dragon shaped structure, such as a statue or a doll made of wood. However the total amount of liquid metal must be enough to at least fill an Olympic swimming pool.

-Burning 3 humans or one witch, preferably alive and conscience. The fire must be of the dragon fire the witch produces, so they cannot cheat by being present at a witch execution.

-Burn down a village or farm (if one burns a farm they must also at least burn half of the cattle. If the farm doesn't use or have cattle present, then burning down the crops will suffice. If a village, the village must be at least 1/4 destroyed. Cities and towns count as villages. This also must be done by the witches's own fire.)

-Kidnap a female of high social, wealth, or governing status, or a female witch. (must be imprisoned in lair, and must remain there until the next year on the exact same day this tribute started, or alternatively, can be killed after the next solstice. A prisoner may be kept to continue paying tributes, however if the prisoner has been in there over two solstices for tribute, then another price should be paid, otherwise the moment she escapes the tribute will be nullified and well, the death will be immediate.)

Other: While his dragonic traits make him unable to burn, he is easily weakened by cold conditions like the cold-blooded beast he worships. As such, he rarely exits his home during winter months. His traits also allow him to keep his youth despite being so old, and his eyes glow like candles in the dark. His familiar/talisman is warm enough to satisfy him in weathers of 50-60 degrees, but any colder is too much for him.

[User]
May 14th 2016. Half moon, waxing.

The old manor in the woods was made out of various materials. The first construction, before it could be called anything more than a cabin, was wood, many times repaired, and with stone additions almost as old as the original structure. Some of the more recent pieces are more modern in construction, though none of the building itself is younger than sixty years old. Oddly enough, the electric infrastructure is up to date, and powered by a turbine in the nearby river, as well as a wind mill that stretches above the ancient trees. This used to be the deepest part of the woods, but now a mere fifteen mile trek through the trees will bring you to the main road, and from there not much further to the closest town. Still, the manor is mostly unmolested by those outside, which suits the inhabitants just fine.

Inside, in one of the main rooms, Bethany Hooke was holding court with her coven. She sat in a comfortable rocking chair with overstuffed cushions and a soft fur draped over top, and as she rocked, the others argued.

The two biggest speakers were a grandson and grand daughter of hers. The Gift ran strong in both, which gave them a high standing in the Hooke family coven.

Jonathan was soft spoken to the last, though today his agitation was showing in its own way. He stood with his arms crossed, his jaw clenched in a tense and defensive stature as his cousin gave a passionate tirade.

Ruth Hooke was louder. She had the same look as her grandmother, her hair as fiery as her arguments.

"We're a strong coven, our gift runs old. If we stand and fight against this... oppression, others will flock to us. Why are we accepting others into our coven if not to marshal our forces?" Where Jonathan was standing with his body tight and withdrawn, Ruth moved about as she spoke, her arms wide and gesturing.

"It was to protect them," Bethany answered from her seat. Her voice was clear and strong, though she wasn't at the height of her strength for this lunar cycle, she was strong enough to retain most of her youth, and her form was physically firm and healthy. Her human features were augmented with the eyes of an owl, as well as the wings, though they were folded behind her in the chair.

"We offer community," Jonathan added quietly, "Not vengeance. Witches come here seeking peace, I don't think it's right to draw them into war."

"Precisely. This is the last I'll hear of this. If you want to go fight, don't expect to come and hide here when they're hunting you down. I've heard enough for today, I'm going into town. Ruth, if you would..?" Despite being shut down, Ruth obeyed and stepped forward to offer her arm. Bethany took a small knife from her pocket and cut a thin slice into the flesh of her forearm. She took a drink of the blood, and her body shuddered for a moment before her wings retracted into her.

With her form returned to a passing human one, she left and made her way to town.

[Assistant]
The library seems relatively simple on the outside. The wooden sign hanging almost proudly from the chains supporting it. There is one large window on the outside that seems to be stained glass. The colors showing simply of the moon with clouds and a few stars. Though upon closer inspection a child's silhouette in the moon can be seen reading a book. As one approaches the door it is clear that is is of a deep maroon color with a half moon shaped window.

As one entered it would be clear that the outside, while simply elegant, is an understatement to the inside. Rows upon rows of books creates a delightful maze with occasional seating areas. When one reaches the walls huge wall shelves stand proudly with ladders to get to the books. This proud structure is light with the best lighting for a calm reading experience that would allow the guest to get absorbed into the place for hours on end (not literally of course). If a guest were of a more magical nature they would be lead to a secret library that, while smaller, is equally proud and almost hummed of its magical nature.

In the front stood a driftwood desk with a cushion on top. The cushion held one black cat with large round green eyes, while behind the desk leaning in the chair was the one who owned this place. Malcolm sterling held a book while his tea seemed to be stirred with a spoon by itself. A cart can be heard moving amongst the rows while books flew to their places. The man's eyes seemed to have an unnatural glow to them as he reads. He seemed to feel comfortable with using his ability currently, for if anyone were to come through the door the large silver shop bell would ring...allowing him to stop and act more human.


[System]
Age: 27
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Tarrya is no dainty damsel, though not of towering height by any means, standing at a solid five feet four inches, every one of those inches is packed with lean muscle, giving her physique a hard edge. Her figure has less of the more delicate curves one might expect of a woman and she weighs well over a hundred and forty pounds - had she lived life in luxury like some, perhaps she too would have the luscious figure of other women , but a life of hard living and harder fighting has tempered her body to hard steel, with a set of sapphire eyes of similar hardness to the resilient gemstone. Her skin is smooth and of a darkish olive hue, taking after her mother; however, it is marred by scarring in many places - most notably an ugly looking cut on her neck that narrowly missed her jugular - she survived, but barely, and her gear now includes a chain coif of the highest quality to prevent a repeat event. She favors heavy duty armor capable of taking several beatings if necessary, and has a personal set of mail backed brigandine, pictured below.

Personality: Tarrya has two personalities, one for the battlefield and one for... well, anything not the battlefield. On the battlefield she has no sense of humor and knows no mercy, expecting none in return. She speaks in a voice used to shouting over the din of war and has no tolerance for inefficiency. Out of her armor however, is a different matter altogether. She was raised by a scholarly mother, and like mother, like daughter. She spends her free time reading, usually. At odds with her battlefield persona, she's generally shy and reserved, happier spending her time in the pages of a book than carousing and drinking. That is not to say she avoids other people altogether, and a good, thought provoking conversation is as good as any book to her.

Brief Backstory:
Name a people under the sun, and Tarrya has probably fought some of them. In truth, any mercenary as well traveled as she could make this claim, but Tarrya has knowledge of the world to back it up.

Raised as a member of the low nobility - and destitute nobility at that, Tarrya originally never dreamed of making war her profession. Instead, she buried her nose in dusty tomes of ancient lore and modern science. She dreamed of unraveling the mysteries of the universe, and aimed to become a scholar and scientist, not only learning all that she could from others, but pushing the boundaries of mortal understanding further, to invent new and amazing devices. Even as she read and studied, she trained with the blade - more as a formality than anything else, but it was an enjoyable sport to her, and good excercise.

Unfortunately, the universe did not have the same purpose in mind for her that she did. To enroll at one of the great universities of the land took money, and money was something they had precious little of. Still enough to send her though, if just barely. That all changed one day, as her family lost most of what little money they did have and became peasants in all but name. Her dreams crushed, Tarrya wasted little time in moping, searching around for other paths in life to take.

Throughout her late night binge readings and general bookish life, Tarrya had read the autobiographies of adventurers and mercenaries, losing herself for a time in great battles and letting her wanderlust run wild through the pages. These stories came back to her at this time, and she resolved to join a mercenary company herself and achieve fame.

Her parents forbade it.

Undeterred, she stole away in the night about a week after, taking a small amount of gold with her to purchase arms and armor. She joined up with a smaller company in the area, and spent a year wiping out brigands and other dregs of society, steadily growing more experienced and skilled. She rose through the ranks surprisingly rapidly, eventually becoming a top lieutenant of the company, which by then had grown to become a sizeable force.

Her downfall came when, patrolling around a village, a group of bandits had crept in and murdered some villagers, taking the rest as hostages. Tarrya and a small contingent of crossbowmen and sergeants were the only force in the area, and they immediately rushed to the village's aid. However, Tarrya's many years of seeing death and devastation had hardened her heart and made her into a callous woman. When negotiations failed she simply ordered her crossbowmen to kill the bandits, regardless of how many villagers died. To "teach the bastards a lesson that hostages won't work on us" as she had said.

She was stripped of her rank and arrested for the action. While she saw it as perfectly justifiable, others did not. In order to avoid harsher punishment, Tarrya promised to atone for her crime, joining the Blades of Iron Roses to defend the weak.

Or at least that was the line she fed them. In truth Tarrya didn't care, the murder of the villagers was regrettable, but she felt no guilt in her heart. Nonetheless, she joined the Order as the retainer of one of the knights, accompanying him into battle and other duties. Nobody had informed her, however, that the new leader of the Order was an sixteen year old girl.

Equipment:

Heavy Brigandine Armor and Helmet (As seen in appearance section): What it looks like on the tin, a heavy duty set of sturdy brigandine armor consisting of tough layered steel plates riveted together and sandwiched between hardened leather - essentially forming a cuirass, albeit far cheaper and easier to create. The armor is incredibly durable, having saved her hide on more than one occasion from axe, sword, and mace blows that surely would've been her undoing otherwise. The armor is worn over mail and a padded gambeson.

Lucerne Hammer: A lethal weapon, spanning about three feet in length. Its primary function is as an anti-cavalry weapon, but is just as effective as a can opener, the brutal spike at the end equally useful for dragging an armored horseman off his mount as it is punching through his plate once off said horse.

Langes Messer: A brutal weapon with a self evident singular purpose - cleaving through as much flesh as possible. A strong blade, keen edge, and good quality steel ensure that this weapon will do exactly that.

Rondel Dagger: A weapon of last resort for armored fighting, when grappling with a knight, a quick thrust through his visor with the dagger is a surefire way of ending the confrontation.

Skills:
Weapon Master: Tarrya has been fighting for years, almost all of those fights to the death. She's still alive. Her experience with all manner of weapons is nothing to shake a stick at, but give her a hefty sword or hammer and she has nary an equal, or at least, equals are a rare sight, and an unwelcome one if an enemy.
Leadership: Tarrya spent two years as a lieutenant in a prestigious mercenary company. Such a posting does not come easily, and in mercenary work there is no room for nepotism. She has thus acquired a good handle on commanding troops in the tactical sense, able to rally a second wind in exhausted soldiers and sense the opportune moment in a battle.
Sixth Sense: Years of fighting for a living have honed Tarrya's awareness of her surroundings to a razor keen edge. It's not quite a true sixth sense, but she's highly unlikely to be caught by surprise by that angry infantryman with the nasty looking axe.

[User]
Marianne's cheeks flushed bright red when the Holy Immortal retorted as she did, her voice catching in her throat as she was clearly flustered and embarrassed. While she didn't completely disagree with the notion of one earning their title and requiring to live up to their name, she wholeheartedly believed that the higher powers of the Iron Roses knew what they were doing by adhering to time-honored tradition. It wasn't simply for show, it worked for all these years had it not? Regardless if Captain Fanilly was deserving of her rank, it was still her rank nonetheless and she had thought they all should show respect of that rank if not the person. Eyes looking to Dame Julianna and Dame Katrina, it was clear that not everyone felt the same way as she.

Choosing to return to silence, Marianne cleared her throat and regained her composure. Her cheeks returning to their fair tone as she continued to ride alongside her comrades. Her tutors had warned her of such people. Of ones with a queer way of thinking that seemed alien and confusing to her. A dangerous way of thought that invited chaotic changes and differing views and perspectives. Not that there was anything inherently wrong with such thinking, but why alter and adjust what has worked for quite some time? Nothing was broken, so what was there to attempt to fix? Marianne couldn't understand it, but resigned herself to continue scanning ahead for potential enemy forces. She would be lying if she didn't admit that their brief exchange upset her, but she was more so bothered by the fact that some of her so-called comrades possibly saw her a fool now. She regretted speaking up, as difficult as it was to withhold her voice. In a feeble attempt to distract herself, she drew two more arrows from her belt quiver for a total of three in hand. Positioning them in between her fingers, ready to engage multiple targets should they show themselves.

Softly sighing, her eyes wandered over to hulking knight Sir Garrett. More successfully distracting herself with the massive, brutish, and gruesome appearing equipment he carried on his person. How any average man could use such weaponry effectively on the battlefield was beyond her. Then again, Sir Garrett appeared to be beyond an average man if his size was any indication. Now lost in thought, she wondered if it were possible Sir Garrett had something akin to giant's blood within his veins. She wondered what his diet consisted of. She would have to ask him later if it were possible, insanely curious. There weren't very many men of his stature from where Marianne was raised. Infact, other than this first excursion, none of them truly knew each other aside from their connection to their Captain. She'd like to get to know all of the other Knights and have proper introductions very soon.

[Assistant]
The clip-clop of the elegant steed drummed her ears with monotony. The fair lady in the ornate armor, with blue hair and blue eyes drifted her sight lazily around the canopy of the forest, her nose furrowing with disgust. It was then when one of her fiercest enemies was in front of her eyes.

Such darkness, such foul appearance. What with the beady eyes. It was in front of hers, greedily rubbing its forearms. But it was all over too son. A deft strike of her armored hand, and her opponent exploded in a mess of blood and gore.

"Damn bugs." Sult said."Stop ruining my poor maiden's skin!" She whined in a childish tone. Where was she? Oh right, knights, expedition. Bandit-slash-rat-slash-miscreant stomping. Not the most glamorous job but eeeh, one could chuck so many soldiers to bandits before resorting to the big guns. She eyed her companions, before seeing instructions, and some small chatter being sent back and forth. Well, that was a good distraction before the proper gruesome deed, so she pitched in full force.

"Oh, come on, sisters-in-arms, don't tease our captain! She is but the most cute and youthful rose of the garden, how could you not love her? Even a bandit surely would have its heart melted!" The trickster lady spouted, baiting for a reaction in anyone of the present. "I mean, what's so wrong about birthright? We have a King by birthright, and quite some of us have privileges for it." Sult smiled coyly, letting her veiled invective sink in the more self-entitled of the knights. Incidentally, quite a lot of those were noble as well.

"It'll all be fine, it's just rat stomping, right? Although we're quite in the rat's den, and who knows what they can do if they're cornered. Little caution won't hurt." Sult pondered. Arrows, Tyaethe? If only they were -just- arrows. We're probably facing some really dirty skirmish tricks if they took out soldiers. She thought internally, choosing to not undermine the captain's position any further by showing visible concern. Her thoughts quickly race to a distracting maneuver, as she eyed the barbarian, the perky, muscled and ruggedly handsome savage that somehow had gotten in the order, and with her cattiest voice she called.

"Sir Garreeet... Could you do a little favour and take my share too? I am wounded. Bug bites. And I'd love to see that big thing of yours in action too." She probably was referring to the sword. Maybe.

Can't hurt siding with the biggest meanest one in this case. She added as an afterthought.

(@Themerlinhawk)


[System]
* Age: 16
* Gender: Female
* Race: Human
* Appearance: Armored, Unarmored. She is 5'1, with pale skin, blue eyes, and blonde hair. Her armor is silver with gold decorations. Her sword has a golden hilt.
* Personality: Fanilly is one to take her duty seriously. This is both due to a belief in the cause of the Iron Rose Knights, and a severe insecurity and self-consciousness about her position. She is well aware that she is young and comparatively inexperienced. She knows that she is only in the position she is because of her birth, as she was born under a full moon. This only makes her feel worse about it. For Fanilly Danbalion, captain of the Iron Rose Knights, she can't help but feel that they have a point. She's young. And even though the founder was the same age, she was viewed as something miraculous, almost a saint. Should Fanilly truly be leading them? This weighs heavily on her mind, and thus one of her biggest desires is to prove that she is. In spite of her young age, in spite of how this tradition has worn thin for some, Fanilly wants to prove that she is a worthy captain of the Iron Rose Knights above all else. Aside from this desire, the girl is somewhat socially awkard, sometimes unprepared for conversation. However, she is not really shy and can generally deal with attending various functions in the capital, as is expected of the Iron Rose Knights. She is dedicated to the purpose of the order, to defend the innocent and protect the land of Thaln. However, the doubts surrounding her have lead to a lack of confidence in herself. Fanilly has a younger sister and as a result has a somewhat stronger affinity for children and desire to keep the safe, but as someone dedicated to the Iron Rose Knights' cause she wishes to protect all those in need. While she has a lacking in confidence, she retains some pride in her training, as she has proven to be skilled at swordplay in spite of her youth.
* Brief Backstory: Fanilly was a daughter of the Danbalion family, a noble family already. While they had never been knights, her birth on a full moon immediately made her a potential future candidate for the Iron Rose Knights' captain. She was simply needed sooner then many expected. And so she experienced training for several years leading up to her instatement as the Captain of the Iron Rose Knights. Initially she was confident in herself, but it quickly became clear that even some within the Knights had grown tired of the tradition of selecting a maiden born on a full moon to be the captain. This wore on her quickly, and has lead to her desperation to prove herself.
* Equipment: Fanilly wears a well-made set of somewhat ornate armor. She wields a fine longsword in her right hand and a dagger with a curved hilt for trapping weapons in her left.
* Skills: Fanilly has experienced extensive training in swordplay, specifically in the use of a longsword in both hands, or paired with a unique parrying dagger.

[User]
It really was quite amusing for Katrina to see their captain getting flustered by all the attention she was receiving. Sometimes, Sult's nonsense was just what this company needed, as far as Katrina was concerned. Of course, she wouldn't appreciate being on the receiving end of such nonsense, but she could have a giggle watching other people have to deal with it. It was not long before the group of them chanced upon a destroyed cart. The obvious conclusion was that it had been raided by the bandits. Katrina had to wonder what kind of poor sod had ended up in a notorious bandit territory. Had they been living under a rock? Were they foreign? The captain raced in to check on the scene. Katrina watched curiously before a bunch of bandits appeared on the scene. This was a trap, and their captain had rushed right into it. That did not speak well of her.

But the positive side was that the enemy had finally shown their faces. This may not seem like good news to many, but Katrina had been itching to butcher some of these scum for a while now. She dismounted with exceptional speed and raced to engage the first enemy she could find. She chanced upon some poor sod that had emerged from the treeline, trying to circle around the other knights. He spotted Katrina when she was only a few mere steps from him, and he froze on the spot. Katrina swung her double sword and cleaved through the man's left arm. He was already panicking and had no chance of fighting on, but Katrina wasn't finished. She whirled her sword around and slashed him right across the torso, then followed up with a slice to the right leg, cutting it off. The bandit's corpse collapsed in front on her.

An arrow shot towards her shortly after her first kill. She evaded it, and her gaze transfixed on the nearby bandit that had fired. He could see that she looked positively giddy at having seen her next target, and he turned to run. Katrina easily caught him and skewered him through the back. She pulled her sword out of the wound only to preform a strong slash to finish the man off. He fell flat on his face, and was silent. Katrina's clothes were already drench in blood, and her armor spattered with various stains and splotches. But this didn't bother Katrina in the least; she was in her element. It was almost nostalgic, taking her back to her time in the slums fighting some of Thaln's most wretched. Only now, she wasn't just fighting peasly thugs and other rif-raff, but a real bandit horde. The blood on her wasn't a few drops from a broken nose, but everything that had gushed out of the deep wounds she had sliced open.

And all she could think of was where the rest of them were, so she might finish the job.

[Assistant]
"Clever little rats." Sult smiled as she watched the events unfold before her. She couldn't help but to appreciate the crude attempt at ingenuity from the outlaws, springing a trap and an ambush. The fact that the captain was sucked in on it almost immediately put a dent in Sult's amused attitude though.

Of course, with the captain in the center of a trap, and the bandits organizing a preemptive -albeit unsuccessful- attack on the Rosebud, and herself more concerned with a wounded civilian than directing her own troops, chaos had ensued, with people acting independently and yelling confuse orders to eachother. Although they didn't seem to be in any danger. Yet.

Sult hastily abandoned her horse, while raising her shield, an ungraceful one, of a horrid green color that clashed with her attire. Well, fashion was a secondary concern in this case. Arrows to the gut were an important subject of concern, as she felt the thudding sound of the projectiles against her shield.

"Sorry, sir Garret, I'd love to have you as dance partner, but someone else is calling it first!" Sult yelled in a clear voice enough, after doing a quick scan on the situation. The undead, well, good luck in getting her even touched with a hit. The commander was well covered, even if they were her detractors those around her. She would have loved to pitch in for glory and recognition, and could've been useful, but it was a moot point now.

Someone else, the other magical asset besides Sparky, who was practicing pierce-a-rat besides the commander with the bow, had called for help. Secondary ambush? What are these, tactical geniuses? Really, Sparky, really!? She added before putting an ugly visage and starting to sprint towards the object of a help call.

Ice Jerk. His magic was useful, and he probably needed to be kept alive, no matter how insistent he was in parrying daggers with his belly. She dashed, clobbering one of the bandits that sprung at her with her shield, only to finish it off in a quick, but very forced movement of the sword, sinking in the poor fella's guts.

I need more training to make it fluid and graceful. She lamented.

"You need rescue, Sir Tiral?" She said in a coy tune, her sword slashing at her opponents preemptively while she kept her guard up, eventually shielding the mage. "Afraid of the little rats, hm? Poison is not cheap, you know..." She smirked as she sided with the mage and knight.

[User]
Sir Garrett
Themerlinhawk

Garrett blinked as he approached where the three female Knights had so recently been. Hefting his maul he settled it on his shoulder a dry chuckle emanated from the Knights armor as he looked to his left. Raising his shield he caught an arrow from one bandits in the treeline. These bandits were seriously assaulting a line of Iron Rose Knights for some reason. Turning Garrett started walking towards the archer. The young man had a long bow; it trembled in his hand; as the bandit let the arrow fly Garrett swatted it with his warmaul. The bandit turned and tried to run; Garrett hurled the war maul end over end and it slammed into the man's knees with a sick crack as it blew out both knees from behind.

Looking around he could already see the other Knights dispatching the Bandits with glee and reckless abandon. Many of them had rushed to the captain seeking glory from defending the young girl who he was sure many of them had been bad mouthing recently and would no doubt blame for running to the aid of the man now propped behind the cart. It was sad really instead of serving the captain and trying to do their best to help out the Order they were squabbling like children.

Julianna was the worst as far as Garrett could tell; the others were just inexperienced or naive and didn't understand how things worked. Reaching down Garrett stifled the Bandits screaming with his grip of iron. Shouldering his kite shield over the big bastard sword currently hanging from his left shoulder Garrett picked up the maul from where it had landed. Another bandit came screaming bloody murder out of the tree line with his sword held high. Amateur.

The maul held in Garrett's right hand caught the bandit in the solar plexus with the end of it as Garrett jabbed him with the pummel of the maul. With a crunch and a gurgling cough the bandit staggered backwards as he folded over clutching his crushed sternum. With a swift underhand stroke Garrett obliterated the man's jaw sending pieces of flesh and bone flying in a terrific spray of gore. There was a sharp pop at the end of the man's twist as his neck snapped from the force of the blow.

Still dragging his injured captive Garrett started back towards the line of horses making use of his armor to block the on his left shoulder which was where the Kite shield hung, or simply running down the bandits before they could draw their bow. None of their weapons were adequate to penetrate the steel of Garrett's plate armor as he cut the brainless, poorly, trained fools down like so much wheat.

Tossing the man on the ground Garrett trapped him face down in the churned mud. Taking his kite shield off the large Knight simply stood and waited with his captive. The kite shield fended off any offending stray arrows as Garrett simply took in the sight of the other knights dealing with the bandits. It wasn't really his style to stand and wait but this was a good opportunity to take their measure; that and he doubted any of them would have bothered with a captive given the fact that they had been ambushed.

Garrett laughed again at Sult's comment. She certainly was a fiery little number; the big man filed it away for further contemplation. With a bellow at her retreating form he ground his heel on his captive "Fine! Go have fun on your own you little fluzy! I have my own friend here so I have no need of you." With another chuckle to himself Garrett checked to make sure his captive was still breathing.

[Assistant]
For a few moments, Fanilly found herself caught in shock at the sight of a man's body cut completely in half by the undead knight herself. While she had certainly seen blood before, and even death, seeing a man cut in half right in front of her was something truly different. But... no, she couldn't simply remain there. Taking advantage of the defensive position that the heavily-armored knight had taken, the young captain turned swiftly. Now. Now was time to command, to prove herself...!

"Stand firm, their numbers are small!" she declared. Even now, at the immediate response of the knights(and the presence of even more forces beyond them), the bandits quickly faltered as some of their number was slain so rapidly. And one man even bisected entirely... It was clear they hadn't expected the Iron Rose Knights!

While she had a moment, she cast a quick glance at Julianna before returning her gaze to the downed man. No, as much as he needed help... she was a captain. "As son as this battle is over we can tend to your injuries!"

She turned to face Julianna immediately. Now this... this was a situation where she had to act swiftly.

"Keep him safe. As... as Iron Rose Knights, it is our duty," Fanilly said, swiftly. Truthfully, she did not feel right leaving him. But if he was defended, then she could take her position as Captain. She had to. If she did not...

Even if there numbers were small... she had to show she was worthy of being captain. That meant defending the civilian and leading the knights in battle.

Many of the archers had been dealt with. Fanilly moved forward swiftly, and as she met another bandit he took a wild, frightened swing at her. Catching it in her dagger, the short blonde thrust her longsword forward and drove it through his leather armor, deep into his chest, piercing through his back. He fell with a gasp and lay still as she drew her sword from him.

The few remaining bandits, their numbers already so thinned, were breaking.

"We... we have to report back! The... the Iron Roses...!"

There were few left, and some were starting to try and flee. A few others remained, drawing bows and raising their weapons, albeit deeply shaken.

"Do not let them retreat!" cried Fanilly, "They will report our presence and prepare for an attack!"