[System]
Age:12 mentally, IDK physically
Gender:Male
Race:Anthropomorphic Toy Raccoon
Homeworld:Winnie The Pooh
Key-Weapon:Slingshot
Magics:Flee and Steal
D-Links:Lilo
Job:Thief
Appearance:An average looking raccoon toy, with a black and white "mask" over his eyes, a mostly light gray body with a white belly, and black-furred upper and lower paws. Is about as tall as Roo or Piglet.
Brief History:Rascal was made by a factory machine, as most modern toys are. His stay in the toy shop he was placed in was brief, but he distinctly remembers the toys there bullying him for his shyness and social awkwardness, causing him to draw into himself even more. After being passed over a few times by a few kids, he was eventually bought by Madeline Robin, Christopher Robin's daughter, and was being brought over to The Hundred Acre Wood proper when he fell through a universe crack.
Other:(Might as well do a brief personality here) Mischievous and sly. Acts cocky and brave, but is secretly still timid and shy. Calls people he doesn't like and his enemies "losers" as part of his facade. Wants friends more than anything, but isn't quite sure how to get them yet. Very insecure.

[User]
Rascal

Rascal, for one, did not know what all the fuss was about, killing what was probably an innocent girl. He knew that he should probably just play along, but geez, was this lady a loser or what!?

At least the team would definitely stop her from getting what she wanted and get the Princess to a safe location, though! Sure, that weird black haired guy might try to stop them, but Rascal suspected that that wouldn't stop the team from getting things done!

"Don't worry, Your Highness, that loser girl won't stand a chance against us!" He exclaimed, following Verik's lead and motioning for the others to follow.

[Assistant]
The Sorcerer kept his mouth shut through all the exchanges, still not bothering to actually introduce himself. Strange characters and oddities just coming and going as if they didn't care one lick about protecting the existence of the Multiverse. It all made him that much more frustrated that the old man insisted on restricting what they could do or say. Otherwise this whole thing would be little more than a trifle to deal with. Even when one of them tried to shake his hand, Canaan just stared at them with an incredulous gaze and offered no hand in return. With no other choice, he followed along with a frustrated sigh. He had a feeling this was all going to become very annoying in the future.

Entering the Throne Room, Canaan's mood remained unchanged. While others may have thought to bow or kowtow to this monarch, Canaan on the other hand barely acknowledged her existence. The power she displayed seemed mediocre at best in his professional opinion. Something any two-bit hack on a stage could accomplish with smoke and mirrors. But he did detect actual power somewhere in this castle. Something more legitimately impressive to him, but it was not the Queen. The magic he detected emanated from somewhere beneath them, possibly the dungeons or somewhere else down in the basement levels. What he hadn't said to anyone was that the story of a Queen trying to kill a Princess was one that existed in his world, albeit as a mere fairy tale. Still, if this world was anything like that fairy tale, then the magic he sensed would have to be...

"Are the rest of you coming?"

Canaan gave the blue-eyed one a very slight blink-and-you'll-miss-it sideways glance but not much else. If his suspicions were right, then what he sensed was the Queen's Magic Mirror, and it had real power. And that was enough to fully intrigue the Sorcerer. He lingered a moment, only walking away when he was the last to do so. And still not offering so much as a glance of acknowledgement to the Queen. He made sure to lag behind the others, a smirk appearing on his lips.

Note to self: investigate that Mirror. It could be... useful.

[User]
Soon, everyone in the group arrived. The cute little elf dude was nice, and so was the talking stuffed racoon thing. The dude in the red cloak gave strong asshole vibes… Soon enough, everyone was there, and they all went inside.

When they went to hear the queen out, Conner had to try very hard not to hide his disgust. This queen deserves an Oscar for her performance. The pirate looking person knew what they were talking about, and was the only thing about this whole scene that wasn't totally embarrassing. Conner just let them talk. Queen bitch shot them down immediately. The scene was made even worse when Verik tried flirting the queen… It took everything he could not to throw up right there.

Conner saluted, then ran off after Verik. "Dude, what are you doing?" Conner questioned. "I may not be into women, but you can certainly do better than… That…"

[Assistant]
Verik

Swimsuit boy was the first to catch up with Verik, asking him why he would flirt up the Queen. Admittedly, he put on a bit of a performance back there, but he needed to get close to her to seal the pact. "No need to be mean. She was pretty enough, in spite of her weird getup. I figure a woman as rich and powerful as her could only be this upset with some random forest girl if it was a matter of jealousy, so I thought she'd like it if I appealed to her vanity. Who knows? Maybe a boost to her self-esteem would be enough to make her forget about this whole thing. Either way, we're supposed to be undercover mercenaries, and that question back there made her suspicious. We wouldn't want the queen thinking we're questioning the legitimacy or morality of the job. Also, I just like making friends. All kinds of friends, really." Thinking back to his old friends in Florem, he had to admit, he missed them, even if they were jerks. The Queen was petty and vain... similar to a lot of his old friends, actually, but her throne room wasn't all that big despite the great riches available to her. Her actual throne was a bit gaudy, but it was only two steps above ground level. There was something more vulnerable and lonely in her conceit, and he could empathize. Of course, he wasn't about to excuse trying to kill some innocent girl because of mere insecurities, but being on good terms with bad people wasn't a bad thing, in his opinion.

Verik stops to face Conner, holding his hand out for a handshake and giving him a friendly smirk. "Speaking of which, would you like to be my friend?"

[User]
As the party seemed to bow and bid a hasty retreat, she called to them "Oh, and i will give you a reward for the hearts of anyone who tries to protect her. She has already used her charms to corrupt a pair of the first mercenaries i sent after her. Nothing is as heinous as a traitor..." She said. Kalak had the strange feeling she was staring at him when she said that. As soon as they closed the door behind them, her smile instantly turned into a frown. "I have a feeling they are going be a thorn in my side..." She sighed. Barely a few minutes had passed when there was a flash of light in the corner and Grimhilde stood up, staring a the being that had just appeared. "Who are you, explain yourself." She demanded. The man that entered took a bow.

"Greetings, dear queen. Truly, the elegance, beauty and grace of someone such as you is matched only by... Well, me!" the man laughed.

"You seem to presume much to come in here and make a claim to my throne of fairity." She said, her lips curling into a snarl as she raised her hand, seemingly ready to strike with her magics

"Then fear not, my queen, for i come to you with great tidings. You say that some of your mercenaries are having trouble killing this traitor, constantly being corrupted by her?" Grimhilde's hand slowly lowered. "Then allow me to introduce you to a new weapon in your arsenal. One that i give freely." A rhythmic stomping of many feet in unison was heard as Grimhilde's face curled into a curious smile. "I presume them to be to your liking?"

"Very much so..." She smiled "Go forth, my new soldiers and kill the wretch known as Snow White." She ordered.

"KILL!!!" A chorus came in unison, before she watched her new army file out of another door towards another exit to the castle.

****

Outside, Kalak and the others gathered back in the courtyard. "So, she's hiding something..." Kalak sighed. "But right now, all we have to go on is that girl and the longer we stand here, the closer those other mercs get to her." He jumped up on the well and struck an epic pose, whilst pointing out towards the woods. "ADVENTURE IS OUT THERE!!!" He jumped down and set off at a run towards the woods, hoping that the others would follow.

[Assistant]
"Of course she's hiding something." said the Sorcerer, at last breaking his long silence. He wondered how long it would be before someone else had started to notice what he had noticed a while ago, "And she's hiding it under the castle somewhere. I sensed it coming from somewhere below the throne room. Power. Real power. Not like the cheap smoke and mirrors tricks she was doing in the throne room." he reached up and adjusted his red coat a bit, also using the time to let them react however they would. But he wouldn't wait long.

"And best of all? I'm pretty sure I know what it is." he said with a cocky smirk, "A mirror, magical of course. And if I'm right about it, one that possesses near omniscient levels of knowledge, and able to answer anything you ask of it with perfect accuracy. I assume you all realize the implications here?" he glanced about at his current companions. Surely even the most clueless among them would make the connection. That a power like the mirror's could allow one to always know the movements and whereabouts and anyone they wish to track, among a myriad of other ways it could be used... or abused.

"I say the mirror should be our goal." he said flatly, "For two reasons. First: We can probably use its power to locate the Princess, saving us the time it would have taken to search for her. And second: It would be in our best interests to ensure that such a power remains well out of the wrong hands, if you catch my meaning."

[User]
Noticing that nobody was following, Kalak stopped as Canaan brought up some valid points about the current situation. "Don't..." Kalak laughed "Don't want to be a negative nancy on this, but i'm hearing a lot of "Pretty sure" and "If i'm right"" Kalak stated. "Ok, she's got a lot of magical power in that castle somewhere. 1) We don't know for a fact what it is 2) even if it is an all knowing magic mirror, we don't know what's guarding it, could be powerful 3) If it is a magic mirror and its guards are weak enough for us to push through, we don't know it'll answer any of our questions. It might be inclined only for the queen herself. And whilst we're wasting time pushing through a lot of unknowns, that bug-guy and the skull-guy and whoever else is out there are still trying to kill that maiden." He shook his head.

"Our first priority is finding that princess and getting her safe, then we can storm the castle and deal with the magics in there. My point is, one of our goals is time sensitive, the other isn't. We should deal with the one we KNOW about first and deal with everything else later."

[Assistant]
Conner blinked, and gave Verik a look. He wasn't so sure how good of friends someone who was willing to hire mercenaries to kill someone just because they were prettier than her could be. This kid was weird for sure… But he was cute, Conner couldn't deny that! "Um… yeah, sure dude." Conner returned the handshake, and followed the rest of the group.

As they were heading off, that guy in the red cloak suggested going after the queen's magic mirror. He wasn't wrong, he knew the story of Snow White, it had to exist somewhere… Even though he was always up for an adventure, even he thought that was a bad idea. Kalak thought so too, and brought up every reason why. "Yeah, as much as I would love a little action, I agree with him. Unless that magic mirror can teleport us directly to her, we gotta keep the princess safe… Plus… uh… no offense bro, but you kinda give me bad vibes… I don't know what you're gonna do with that thing once we find it."

[User]
After a short argument, the party had decided to search for the Princess and go back for the supposed mirror later. The forest was lush and thick, their first entrance seemed a little difficult with vines and other knotweeds preventing easy incursion. As they finally managed to find a way into the forest, the dense cannopy began to block most of the light, the photosynthesis-starved smaller branches and bushes grabbing at their clothes as if the claws of demons. Cio-Cio began to glow as a lightsource as the forest quickly began to look as if night had fallen. Finally it opened into what looked like a maze of paths. The Dreameater seemed to lead the way, seeming to sense the pure heart off in the distance.

Following her down a path, they could each feel an evil presence emanating from further in. As they continued to walk, Kalak would quietly pick at the strings of the guitar. Suddenly, they would hear a familiar sound before a scream. "What in the heck?" The party set off at a run towards where the sound had come from. As they reached the clearing, they found the body of the green man they had met back at the castle, laying in a slowly expanding pool of blood, his chest impaled by several a large spears of wood. "Ooooooh..." Kalak winced. "Who the heck did that to you?" Cio-Cio slowly buzzed over to the body and began looking it over.

[Assistant]
Rascal visibly gasped when he saw the green man, his eyes wide as he rushed over to him. The cocky facade was entirely gone as Rascal's entire body shook, wondering who would do such a thing.

"Is there anything we can do!?" He asked, looking at Kalak and Cio-Cio.


[System]
Hans Bauer - Sergeant
Hans Bauer is the 35 year old sergeant of the German squad. He is of average size, with short black hair and blue eyes. He is a strong-willed soldier and a proud supporter of the Third Reich. His leadership and camaraderie makes him the ideal commander for this operation. Hans carries an MP40 sub-machine gun and a Luger pistol.

Franz Ziegler - Private (Machine Gunner)
38 year old Franz is a stout men with an even temper - a 'gentle giant'. He is tall and imposing, yet calm and passive. He values his friends, and would do anything to protect them. Franz carries an MG32 machine gun and a Luger pistol.

Gerhard Brant - Private (Machine Gunner)
Gerhard is the most hot-tempered of the group. Tall, strong, and mean - this bull-of-a-man represents the extremes of bravery and courage. Or perhaps it is arrogance and anger - after all, Brandt served in the Great War and harbors a particular grudge against the Allies. Gerhard carries an MG32 machine gun and a Luger pistol.

Claus Jager - Private (Assistant Gunner)
A young man, from the same village as Otto Kraus. Claus was born and raised on a farm, and like his father he is loyal to the Fatherland. He is an assistant for the squad's machine gunners. Claus carries a Luger pistol and spare ammo.

Otto Kraus - Private (Assistant Gunner)
Otto was born and raised in the same village as Claus, and the two grew up as friends. Like Jager, he is an assistant for the machine gunners. He carries a Luger pistol and spare ammo.

Karl Moltke - Private (Grenadier/Rifleman)
Karl is a personal friend of the sergant, Hans Bauer, and also acts as his second-in-command. Karl displays excellent leadership skills as well. He is a strong and stout ally, and acts as the squad's primary grenadier. He carries a Karabiner 98k, a Luger pistol, and 3 grenades.

Helmut Seidel - Private (Grenadier/Rifleman)
Helmut is a humble man who has quick adapted to the shock of warfare. Helmut can maintain his composure in the face of enemy fire, and never backs down from a fight. As a former meat cutter and cook, he is also the squad's primary cooker. He carries a Karabiner 98k, a Luger pistol, a frag grenade, and 2 smoke grenades.

Wessel Winter - Private (Rifleman)
The oldest member of the group, and a veteran of the Great War. Wessel fights for Germany with a determined heart. He carries a Karabiner 98k and a Luger pistol.

Franz Schmidt - Private (Rifleman)
The second-to-youngest member of the group and one of the freshest recruits. Franz attended a university before the outbreak of the Second World War. He is an educated young man, willing to prove himself in the service of his country. He carries a Karabiner 98k and Luger pistol.

Kristoph Kramer - Private (Rifleman)
The youngest and freshest recruit of the squad. Kristoph's father served in the Great War, and like him he wants to prove himself. He is loyal to the Third Reich, and often argues with Franz on various subjects. He carries a Karabiner 98k and a Luger pistol.

[User]
May 11th, 1940. The German invasion of Belgium was in full swing. The German airborne forces were tasked with taking Fort Eben-Emael, which was integral to the success of the army. A series of battles were being fought along the border, usually aimed to secure important bridges and crossings.

German Panzer divisions were ready to move into central Belgium and bring the invasion to a swift end. First, however, Belgian garrisons protecting the bridges and crossings needed to be eliminated. And this was a task that fell to Hans Bauer.

Surveying the field ahead, Hans deduced that the coast was clear and signaled for the rest of his squad to approach. They had advanced this far under the cover of a forest. Across the ways was a dirt road which ran north, passing by Hagen's Farm and crossing over a river. The bridge which crossed over that river was a vital crossing that the German Panzer Divisions sought to utilize. But thus far the Belgian garrisons threatened this move.

By the time the squad had assembled on the edge of the wood, Hans began to relay orders. "Ziegler, Brant," he referred to the two Machine Gunners, "cover our advance. Moltke, Kramer, you're with me. Winter, you take Seidel and Schmidt. We'll split up and advance on the road in two teams. Schnell!"

The disciplined soldiers exited the forest and proceeded towards the road in two teams; Hans had tasked Winter with leading the second team because he was the oldest and most experienced, having served in the Great War. Meanwhile, Ziegler and Brant, with the help of Claus and Otto - the two machine gun assistants - covered the advance.

Once they made it to the road and found no resistance, Hans signaled for the MG teams to regroup.

Now it was only a matter of advancing north, along the road, towards Hagen's Farm, where the Belgians were expected to be. The darkness would cover their approach, and they remained on the eastern side of the road so they could cover themselves in the ditch.

[Assistant]
Worthy children of Low Countries
Whom a fine passion has aroused,
To your patriotic fervour
Great successes lie in store.
Remain under arms, so that naught shall change!
Let us keep to the same will,
And we shall see Orange bloom anew
Upon the tree of Liberty.
-The original Brabanconne

Marching bands, girls waving handkerchiefs and blowing kisses, all of this accompanied the squad of Sergeant van der Koopften. But unlike most of his men he knew better than to smile and be glad of what he was about to see. He was marching off to what had a reasonable chance of being his last day alive.

As he saw in the distance the farmstead with the bridge he'd be defending he grunted; the scale was quite different in real life than upon the map. The damned krauts had already ruined the livelihood of this innocent worker, not particularly caring for the ambitions of the Germans. The bastards didn't want to fight war honestly and attack France through it's proper borders so they invaded Belgium to get around the French defences. Well, if a scrap was what the nazis wanted then they'd get one. They'd see what the sons of Flanders and Wallonia could bring forth, and they'd taste cold steel on their filthy lips.

As they got closer, Leopold started to bark orders.

"Nicolet, Albrecht you old bastard, get over to the far side of the road right before the bridge, go in the ditch and cover yourselves with mud. I know, I know, your beautiful uniforms will get dirty but I don't care. You'll use the ditches as cover as you lie down. You won't show your faces until the enemy is right and close where you can throw your grenades and get off some fast shots, you hear me?" As the grumbled confirmations came the Sergeant said "Good, on to the next order of business. Private Janssen, you'll go to the barn, stand at the door and look through the lines of the forest, you'll be one of our little reserves. Heavy gunner team, you'll set up at the right window of the farmhouse. Robert, Heinrich, you two will be at the window and doorways of the farmhouse... now!"

At last, the Sergeant inhaled, and massaged his eyebrows as only two remained without orders. Corporal Voors and Private Jacobs, you'll come with me to the windmill, we're the aegis, you hear? The others will be relying on us for support. Enemies our comrades don't see, we take them down. If all else fails, we are here. Understood? Good. Let's go, I think I hear the Germans in the distance."

With that, they were deployed. Some men smoke, whilst the gunnery team quietly played a game of cards to settle their nerves before the invader arrived....


[System]
Nickname: The Hundredth Dan Black Belt, Master Monk
Age: Unknown, appears rather past middle age
Gender: Male
Originates From: Final Fantasy 1
Appearance:
An older version of the original Black Belt/Monk from Final Fantasy, clad in a well-worn martial arts uniform with monastic influences (inspired by the real life Shorinji Kempo keikogi) and walking around in wooden sandals. Standing at six feet tall and with a wiry but obviously athletic frame, though he has wrinkled and his hair is now fully grey and has thinned out somewhat he seems otherwise physically unaffected by aging.

Personality:
Isei goes through life seemingly perpetually relaxed and in high spirits, though he is also fearless, adventurous and drawn to heroic pursuits. He is tremendously confident in his martial skills and prone to unsolicited criticism of others in this regard, but given his level it's relatively justified. Despite this, his criticism isn't necessarily intended mockery and is often aimed at helping others improve, and he can both appreciate the abilities of others and acknowledge when he's matched or bested.

Items They Are Carrying:
-Keikogi: Isei's uniform has some magical capabilities. It is as tough as he is, which is quite significant, and conveys him the protection against elemental sorceries, status effects and especially devious instant death powers afforded by the Protect Ring and the Ribbon. Its effects that cannot be dispelled and the robes cannot be removed unless Isei wills it.

Abilities:
-Legendary kenpo master: A near peerless martial artist, Isei is capable of relying on nothing but his body to face down the most fearsome foes and match the famed Warrior of Light blow for blow despite the latter wielding several powerful artifacts. Though his physical gifts and feats are quite impressive, and he can employ abilities such as qinggong as well as any master, he lacks any grasp on spellcasting and makes little use of external release of his inner energy (chi, ki, qi, chakra, etc), preferring to let his body express his mastery and allow the fighting skills that can be taught to most any human to shine.

Kaminari Kick: Using a burst of inner energy, Isei launches himself into an explosively fast flying kick capable of carving a swathe through lesser enemies, as long as they stay in formation to be hit by it. Even being around the area Isei flies past can lead to being damaged by the attack's pressure.

Mantra: Drawing upon his inner energy, typically but not necessarily by uttering a focusing mantra, Isei can force his body to regenerate itself with effects akin to healing magic and cleanse himself of a variety of ailments.

Ikken Hissatsu: Ikken Hissatsu is a concept in karate which means "to kill with one strike", and while it's not meant to be taken literally it is still something to strive towards. By drawing upon his inner energy much like with his mantra, Isei can instead focus it all to deliver a devastating killing blow that doubles the power of his already fearsome strikes. He can twice draw upon himself for an even greater boost, any more and he simply overloads himself.

Mushin Hangeki: Mushin is a state of clear-mindedness where a practitioner of martial arts is left unclouded by unnecessary thoughts and so reacts freely to the situation at hand, reflexively and intuitively employing their highly trained and polished skills in an unimpeeded flow. Hangeki means counterattack. Effectively, the ability to instinctively react and launch appropiate counter blows when assaulted no matter the situation.

As a result of consuming the Oxyale, Isei can also breathe normally even in environments where he should not be able to.

Bio:
Though the prophecy spoke of only four Warriors of Light, destined heroes rarely go about their fate without companions. Isei, then a young, brash and often overmatched martial artist seeking to prove his worth, was one of two such adventurers aiding the quest to restore the Crystals and lift the veil of darkness from the world. Armed with nothing but his body, he would face such foes as the four world-changing Elemental Fiends, an ancient nuclear-powered Warmech and even clashed with the mythical Gilgamesh, emerging victorious (or at least alive) and growing in mind, skill and spirit from each trial.

Though the destruction of the time loop reverted much of the world to how it would have been without the influence of Chaos, and left the Warriors of Light unaware of their own prior adventures, Isei would not be denied his fate. Driven by subconscious memories of another time, he once again strove for martial excellence and once again pushed himself to become a master of legendary renown. There's only one problem, however. Having faced some of the gravest dangers in creation across two lives, Isei has been left with little to inspire or drive him and he would greatly welcome a challenge or at least a new experience.

Fun Facts: Considering the Black Belt/Monk was not an official Warrior of Light in the game's novelization or either of the two groups with the title in 8-bit Theater (still the greatest thing done with FF1), I decided he probably wasn't one after all. Four letter name because NES limitations.

[User]
@clanjos

"Oh...Really?" The lead Koopa said in surprise to Haruki's devil may care attitude. In the back, a small group of Koopas did their best to hide a net they had been intending on tossing over the two odd creatures in front of them. If they were willing to come of their own accord, it would be for the best not to agitate them. The head Koopa quickly cleared his throat.

"I-I mean of course! The king will happy to give you an audience," the Koopa said, more or less talking out of his rear as his group surrounded Haruki and Harvey, looking like a true guard "come, we shall escort you there."

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

Sir Eglamour charged forward past retreating Toads, the crashing battleship impacting the ground with a very audible crash. Some explosions occurred thanks to leftover bob-bombs still inside, the ship breaking apart on impact. Debris were scattered everywhere, crashing atop already wrecked and charred houses. Eglamour's dragon sat, somewhat on fire but functional in that the canons still could fire. And the crew still on board took advantage of that, firing cannonballs every which way they could. They had been instructed to fire on any Toad, knowing they could very well be part of the resistance, and they followed these orders to the tee.

"Hellllllllp!" Cried a voice from a nearby building, more than likely catching the knight's attention. A quick glance over would let him see one of the disheveled houses, but with a pair of Toads that had been a bit slow getting away from the wreckage. One of them was unconscious, buried under the ruble of their own home with a female friend of his trying to unearth him. The going was slow, slow enough for several of the gunners of the ship to emerge. A little over a handful in total, the Koopas withdrew into their shells and the Goombas hopped atop, riding over to the downed pair of Toads. What they intended to do them could not have been good.

Bug

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

@eemmtt

York watched as Roland went through the portal, hesitating for a moment to glance over to Ken. He still looked less than a hundred percent, something York easily took note of. He tapped out the ashes on the end of his cigarette, briefly wondering if Ken should really come with him. Things seemed relatively calm here, and it'd likely be best for him to recover at least from the concussion.

It was a good thing York hesitated on going through the portal too. Otherwise, he wouldn't have seen the incoming AI at all. York quirked his eyebrow as the hulking machinery approached, eyes flicking up and down Mizn briefly. Another non hostile machine by his mind's eye, perhaps even more so when he took into account the Third Law of Robotics. That was assuming he wasn't dealing with a particularly polite rogue.

"Your guess would be as good as mine," York explained to Mizn, shaking his head "though I'm guessing this portal is our best bet for some answers." He turned his attention to Ken briefly, York's usual straight face taking on a bit of concern for the kid.

"Now, if you feel like you can keep up, you can come. But that was a nasty fall you had earlier, so if you don't think you can I'd understand. Now then...If you'll excuse me, I suppose Roland is wondering what's taking me." York finished, turning on his heel and approaching the portal slowly. Roland's words played in his mind, how apparently these things always led to some great evil. If that were the case...Well, he and Zach had dealt with worse. York would persevere. He stepped through the portal, not looking behind him to see if Ken and Ainz followed.

It didn't take York long to at least recognize the odd creatures running around him this time. Video games weren't something York was fully familiar with, but it was hard not to recognize Toads, Goombas, and Koopas. Images of the phrase 'Your Princess is in Another Castle' briefly flashed through his head as to the untrained eye York looked completely numb to the chaos around him. In truth, he merely assessed the situation. He assumed anything or anyone that looked out of place were in the same boat as Roland and him, putting him in league with a large skeleton with an angel doing her best parrot impression on his shoulder, a large orange being who seemed content to pound upon Koopas and Goombas alike, and...Darth Vader.

"Well, at least we have powerful allies Zach. Though perhaps we may not fully be on the side of good this time." York commented dully, noting rather suddenly that Roland wasn't exactly looking very trigger happy at the moment. He could recognize sensory overload when he saw it, and Roland had it written all over his face and body language. He needed direction, and York...Well, he was there. He placed a hand on Roland's shoulder, withdrawing his own pistol from within his dress coat.

"Fire on the turtles and the brown mushrooms." He stated simply before doing just that, his bullets finding Koopa and Goomba alike. They fell down, several Koopas retreating to their shells as they watched their brethren fall around them. This just made it easier for Jasper to knock them around of course, sending more and more mooks to their doom by the second.

[Assistant]
These turtle guys were probably not trustworthy. Harvey didn't care. They might rob him and his new partner of all their Mags and probably try to sell them off as slaves. Harvey didn't care. They were a most likely benign gang, they were leading Harvey straight to their leader, and they weren't human. That was all Harvey cared about.

"No problems here," Harvey calmly remarked, "let's go see the king."

Harvey spared a glance at the troopas surrounding him. They were undoubtedly going to attack him. They would stuff him in a sack, and drag him to their king, and the king would turn into a Joy Mutant and kill everyone, because that's exactly how this day was turning out to be. Harvey didn't care. He'd go stomp out those lunatics that chased him here on his own time, on his own terms. Probably. More likely, they'd end up getting themselves killed trying to take down one of the big warlords. Vega Van Dam, or Rex Thunderstorm, or maybe even Lardy Hernandez. Yeah, this wasn't his problem. All he'd have to do is chill out with these guys' leader for a bit, maybe recruit a few dudes to work in his gang, and get back to gettin' back.

"Oh! Hey, Haruki! Harvey whispered into Harvey's ear as he waited, "How'd you feel about a little business partnership with me? I lost my old buddies, and Olathe ain't safe alone, you know?"


[System]
Age: 211, to his best estimate
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 192 lbs
Race: Vampire
Birthplace: England, circa 1667 (Elizabethan era)
Short Bio: Born in the Elizabethan era and surviving into the Victorian, Vail has seen the rise and fall of two centuries' worth of dynasties—not just human, but supernatural as well. As a member of the Hygrace family, he was raised in the wealth and prestige of the most powerful vampire clan in London. His uncle, Lord Reginald Hygrace, was a respected leader, known across the nation for offering protection to any vampires who needed sanctuary from The Order of the Saints: an influential group of men and women who tracked down and killed the "demons" for a living.

For nearly a century, Reginald's efforts kept both his family and the rest of the vampires safe. However, around the year 1750, he made the mistake of taking in a man named Lord Elias Wynter. At a glance, Elias seemed like just another refugee seeking sanctuary with the Hygrace family, but in truth, he sought to overthrow the ruling dynasty completely.

Unbeknownst to the Hygraces, the Wynters had been plotting for quite a while to take over and change the way that vampires lived in England altogether. They believed that as "superior beings," they should fight back against humans instead of hiding from them in fear. They saw the Hygraces were weak and cowardly, unfit to lead their kind, and so started a rebellion.

When he commenced his attack, Elias managed to kill Reginald, but his attempt to finish off the rest of the oldest generation was cut short by his victim's younger brother—Vail's father—Peter, who went on to take over as the leader of the Hygrace clan in his sibling's stead. Unfortunately, the Wynter family refused to give up after just one defeat and has continued to fight for power against the ruling dynasty ever since.

For Vail, the following century of his life was spent predominantly in hiding. As the son of the most powerful vampire in England, he had to look out not only for members of the Saints but the Wynters as well. With such a large target on his back, he learned how to fight and wield a gun in order to protect himself. Both skills have saved his life since.

Of course, he can't spend all his time in seclusion without going stir crazy, so he finds time to attend parties and other large gatherings put on by other aristocrats in London to get out of the Hygrace manor on occasion.

[User]
Vail kept up alongside Victoria's horse as she galloped from the manor past each barricade the Saints had erected to stop the Wynters. The animal's long strides allowed it to cover ground quickly, but he managed not to fall behind. The task of matching a stallion's gait would have been straining if he hadn't had a taste of Lady Crest's blood that day, but since he'd fed so recently, he wasn't even out of breath by the time they finally slowed to a stop.

Halting beside her steed, he swept his gaze over the surrounding buildings to keep watch for any other vampires. According to the Saints' information, the Wynters shouldn't have gotten this far yet, but it never hurt to be cautious. Besides that, he wanted to make sure there were no bystanders from the other clans in London. They were going to be using Victoria's blood as bait, so the entire plan could fall apart if she was attacked by someone who didn't belong to the Wynter clan before their actual targets grew close enough to trap.

Fortunately, the only people that he could see and smell in the area were the humans in a nearby pub. The rest of the streets were clear, so he turned to Victoria and nodded at her announcement that she was going to draw her blood. As soon as she opened her neck and began to coat herself in the scarlet liquid that flowed out, he felt his heartbeat quicken, and he shivered. The scent was as powerful as ever, and despite having already fed that same day, he had to force himself to stand still while she combed her bloodstained fingers through her hair. If this didn't make the Wynters lose their focus, nothing would.

"Nothing yet…" he murmured, dragging his wrist across the corner of his mouth where some of the excess saliva had escaped his mouth. He narrowed his eyes slightly, scanning the dark streets. His sense of smell alerted him faster than his vision, and he tensed at the odor of another vampire in the area—actually, more than one. The Wynters were close, and they were traveling in a group. In the next moment, he caught sight of a flicker of movement in a nearby alley. "Now!" he hollered, pivoting on his heel to run with her back toward the barricade, where the first wave of their Frankenstein army was waiting to fight.

--

Katherine had been in her bedroom when Mikael had entered the Hygrace manor. Unlike her husband, however, she had heeded Vail's warning and prepared to defend her family by feeding on humans daily in the city. So, when she heard Peter's scream, she ran downstairs as quickly as her legs would carry her and began ushering the other Hygraces to get ready to fight back. The scent of an unfamiliar vampire on their territory combined with the outcry of their leader was enough to rile up her nieces and nephews, and they all grabbed whatever makeshift weapons they could find to fend off the Wynter. To her dismay though, it wasn't enough.

Despite their best efforts, Mikael cut down every Hygrace he came across, until the few that remained had no other choice but to flee the manor if they wanted to live. Katherine retreated to her bedroom upstairs, panicked but unwilling to run as long as Peter was still alive and breathing. She couldn't leave him behind, and her loyalty led her to trap herself when the Wynter entered the room to finish her off. She stood with her back pressed against the wall and a fire iron in her hand as a last defense, bracing herself for the inevitable sting of the vampire's silver-lined blade. But it didn't come.

In the time between Mikael severing his leg and the minutes it took the Wynter to slaughter most of his family, Peter had made his way upstairs to look for a way to fight back as well. Using a cane to hold himself upright, he had hobbled toward his room, only to stop in the hallway when a faint scent had reached his nose: Crest blood. He had turned away from his door to go to Vail's bedroom instead, where he had found the bottle of Victoria's blood that sat untouched on the heir's bedside table. There had been more than enough to give him the strength he needed to take Mikael on, whether he was crippled or not.

So, just as the Wynter had raised his sword to slay the Hygrace leader's wife, Peter had lunged at him from behind, grappling for the blade with his fangs bared in a twisted snarl. They scrapped for a while, more evenly matched now that Lord Hygrace had taken the same drug as his opponent, but eventually, Peter managed to wrestle the brand away from Mikael and held it out warningly. "Get out of my territory," he hissed, leaning against the post of his bed to stay upright. His cane had fallen to the floor when he'd first attacked the Wynter.

In spite of his less than ideal condition, there was a darkness in his eyes that told the other vampire that he would kill him without hesitation of he tried to continue the fight.

[Assistant]
Mikael hissed and growled at Peter as he had him equally matched. He would need his clan as back up to finish him off. But he had taken enough of the Hygrace clan to leave with having done some damage to last a lifetime. So, he decided to quit while he was ahead. He was smart enough to know the best tactics. "This isn't over Hygrace!" He snarled before he jumped clear out the window. He ran into the night.

---

Lord Spencer got the first sight of Lady Victoria turning on her horse to run away from him. The smell of her blood in the air made the Wynter clan go into a frenzy. All the could think about was sinking their teeth into her sweet neck and drinking their fill of more of the blood that coursed through their veins right now, giving them the feeling they had the strength of ten vampires.

Phillipe and his mistress galloped through the first barricade. As she rode under the bridge, the Saints heads popped up and fired upon the Wynter clan. They were too distracted to dodge their bullets and bolts. It impacted a few of them to slow them down. Victoria gained more sizeable gap between them as she le them straight to the next barricade where two suffered severed limbs, one was impaled through the heart with a silver bullet. There were less of them gaining on Victoria.

Her heart raced as she willed her horse to go faster still. Her long hair whipped behind her wildly. She made it to the third barricade where a volley of shots impaled five other vampires and slowed them to a near halt or ended them altogether. She glanced back momentarily, it looked like they were winning. However, before the fourth and final barrier at Crest Manor, Mikael leaped out of nowhere in front of the horse and slashed its neck. Phillipe neighed and stumbled as its blood spurted out everywhere. Victoria screamed as she felt the horse fall and she was flung from the saddle. She hit the ground. Hard.

She grit her teeth and looked up through her blood stained hair and saw her horse laying on the ground, lifeless. Tears formed in her eyes. "Phillipe!" Her beloved companion, she loved so much was now dead in its own pool of blood. Mikael stood in the middle of the street and stared Vail down with a dark grin. His fangs glinted in the light of the oil filled lamps.

"So. This is the mutt who stole Christopher's bride? Hmph. He isn't much to look at." Mikael taunted as Spencer caught up to them. Mikael stood between Victoria and Vail's escape to Crest Manor where more traps and Saints lay. Victoria's heart raced and before anyone could retort Mikael's comment, she took her crossbow from her back and fired it at his head. He caught it easily in his hand. The silver merely felt hot to the vampire instead of burning him completely. "I must say. Your blood is something God could not have created himself."


[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]
Sayeeda gestured Taya back into the ship, the girl was quick to take advantage of the chance to get out of the potentially dangerous situation, all but running up the ramp. She might tell herself that she would be more useful inside the ship and maybe that was true, but truthfully Junebug just wanted her out of the way. There were a million ways this exchange could go wrong and shooting the Highlanders crew to save the forty million was both the most likely and the most difficult to avoid.

The aliens in the armor snorted and yipped at each other their communication undecipherable to human ears. Junebug watched them with studied boredom her plasma rifle cradled casually but within only a few degrees of the armored killers. In the ancient struggle between weapons and armor, weapons were currently in the lead. Nothing a man could carry would do much to stop a plasma bolt. Even ablative armor would transmit a bone shattering shock as the superheated plasma detonated on its surface. Powered armor was more effective and could be plated heavily enough to withstand the shock, but it sacrificed movement. Mechs and the like were more akin to light vehicles than armored infantry. Sayeeda figured if this went south she could take at least one and probably both of the alien gunmen down but it didn't mean she was eager to try conclusions. One of the creatures, sensing her regard made a crude leer running a purplish tongue over its fangs. Sayeeda winked without allowing her face to lose its bored expression, gannering another burst of garbled alien chittering.

Further by play was interrupted by Neil returned carrying the small chest in which the *BLANK* was stored. The guards and the young woman who was apparently going to perform the assay quited in anticipation. The pilot set the case down on the grease stained floor and flicked both the latches open with a theatrical flourish.

"Behold!" he cried, throwing the lid open and posing dramatically. The soft glow of the *BLAN* pulsed from within the chest, illuminating falling dust motes in its pure light. Neil looked a little crestfallen.

"No one appreciates a show," he muttered. Sayeeda noticed that his revolver was tucked into his belt, within easy reach for a quick draw. Apparently she wasn't the only one concerned about the number of ways things might go wrong. The woman, Junebug never got her name, pulled a bulky but portable scanner from a bag and ran it over the *BLANK*. For an endless minute the machine beeped and whired before the aide, or whatever she was, finally tucked the scanner away.

"It appears to be genunine," she said, her voice a little to netural to be believable.

"Where did you say you got it from?" she asked. Junebug rolled her eyes.

"We stole it from the Pirate King and he is going to sail his fleet of dreadnoughts in here and wreak horrible vengeance on whoever holds the cursed treasure. Anyone who toucheth it wilt surely perish excetera and if this is the part where you try to talk us down from our price because its soooo dangerous, then you can just be on your way and we will find another buyer," Junebug sneered. The aliens stiffened, gripping their weapons. Junebug negligently lifted her rifle to point at the closes gunmen though her face still appeared bored rather than threatening. The aides face was dark with an unpleasant emotion.

"Very well, we will pay your asked price, but you should know that…"

"Yeah yeah, no one disrespects the boss, we get it," Junebug finished, lowering her rifle as the aliens took their own hands away from their weapons.

"Take the goods," the aide told the aliens.

"No," Junebug and Neil spoke simultaneously, paued to look at each other and then turned back to their guests.

"I know we are all friends and everything, you know you being infamous gangsters and we being some randoms who never made port here till yesterday, but just for the hell of it, lets assume we want to see the money before we hand over the goods."

"You are a very irritating woman Captain Cyckali," the aide said, clenching and unclenching her fists. Junebug smiled toothily.

"And just to be sure no one gets any weird notions, lets do the hand off somewhere neutral, one of those casinos should do fine."

"The Golden Nebula," Taya's voice sounded in her mastoid implant. The girl was good, listeninging into the conversation and doing her own research as she went.

"THe Golden Nebula, lets say three hours from now?" Junebug went on as though she had come up with the name.

"That is hardly enough time to get the money toge…" the Aid protested.

"Well then I guess we will have to take our bussiness elsewhere after…" the aide through up her hands in disgust.

"FINE!" she snapped and whirled on her heel, practically storming out of the building flunkies in tow. Junebug grinned, Neil gave her his 'what the fuck was that' expression as he pulled his revolver from his belt. She shrugged a little sheepishly.

"Sorry, it has been days since I shot anything, guess I'm a little tense."

[Assistant]
The Pilot laughed. "Don't worry, with our luck I'm sure we'll shoot something real soon." he said with a wink, snapping up the trunk and lifting up the near-priceless object. He shook his head as he relayed the scene that had just played out. "Acting like we'd just give them the stone. They idiots?"

"I think they think we're the idiots." Sayeeda said, hands on her hips.

"How could we be idiots? We have some fucking Aestimobium."

"And how did we get it?" She asked Neil, raising an eyebrow.

He sighed. "...By being idiots." Sayeeda smirked. Taya's voice rang over the comms. "If you two are done, let's get in here and discuss what exactly we plan on doing." The hanger was still empty, but Neil realized it was probably for the best they talked further inside. A devil in the back of Neil's head made him say. "Yeah, before the Captain shoots somebody." He felt a woosh of air behind the nape of his neck right as he leaped forward, and he ran into the Highlander with Sayeeda right on his heels until Neil spun and held the Aestimobium in front of himself. Sayeeda hid a smile, and just pointed at him.

He placed the mineral down on the table after she sat down, and he sat down too, thinking he was safe. The boot that stomped on his foot relieved him of such notions, but they were both laughing after Neil cursed. In a moment however, Sayeeda went back to business and began. "So..." she said, her tone brooking no room for anything else but making a plan worth executing. "we go to the Golden Nebula. Did either of you see any good places for guns to hide in the Cantina?"

"I could barely see anything." Taya said, the cloak that had been wrapped around her head now snug on her shoulders once more.

"There's probably plenty of places to the left when you enter, where the crowds and dancers are." Neil pointed out. "But on the right, the sit down bar and tables are probably where we'll do the transaction. We can't exactly flank or hide either, they've seen both of our faces and Taya isn't the best gun, no offense."

Taya's face gave a clear 'none taken, seriously' as if she wanted to be as far away from any gun as possible.

"Then we'll just need to sit in the corner near the door, and wait. Or if they already have a table for us, we don't sit next to each other." She said to Neil, and he nodded. They needed eyes everywhere. "Taya, give us your cloak." The girl blinked, but did as she was told, and Sayeeda wrapped it around the Aestimobium container.

Neil spoke up next. "They'll never guess we have a container now."

Needless to say, he had to dodge Sayeeda again.

[User]
The Golden Nebula was not what Sayeeda had imagined from a dingy crime world, though perhaps it should have been. Neoclassical dance music thrummed like a thunderstorm as they stepped through the security checkpoint and into the interior. Just as Taya had said the establishment employed sophisticated biometric scanners, though the expensive units were almost completely recessed into large palatial columns. The security was well armed and obvious but also clean enough to hint at respectability. Also, just as Taya had said, neither the Aestimobium nor the pair of pistols concealed beneath it triggered the sensors. One of the metals many properties was the release of energy in the form of radiation. The radiation was poorly understood but seemed to have no harmful effects on humans. Apparently it was also enough to smother the electronic signatures of the hardware. Sayeeda kept her face pleasant but she really wished they could have bought more hardware. In theory the weapon restrictions applied to their 'business partners' too, but Junebug was to familiar with breaking rules to put much stock in that slender protection.

"I still say we should have pulled a last minute move, somewhere I could have covered with a rifle," the mercenary griped. She was dressed in a skin tight body suit of dark gray, almost black synthetic polymer. It was the sort of thing that a jet bike rider might wear and was judged by Taya to be not too far out of the ordinary for the Nebula. The plus was that it let her wear combat boots, those these were new, black and buffed to a high sheen rather than her worn tan favorites. A band of black enameled metal encirled her brow, keeping her now almost shoulder length hair out of her face. She really needed to find time to get it cut, or at least buzz it so that her helmet would fit properly again.

"Will you give it up," the long suffering Neil responded as they ascended a broad stairway. The interior of the casino was massive and open. Games of chance of every conceivable sort ringed a huge central space. Not only the ground but the walls and ceiling were covered also. Antigrav plates had been installed to allow a guest to walk up the walls or over the ceiling. Bars and drinking establishments stood out like barbs on the wall and celing. THe central space was a vast zero gravity dance floor. Launch points were marked on the floor where the gravity was low enough that one could jump into the field. Smaller grav points flashed in and out of existance as bars of neon lights. Hundreds of people flipped and spun overhead, gyrating with wild excess that would have been impossible in normal grav.

"Whoa," Junebug said, impressed inspite of herself.

"Also what is this like nine dimensions of fire arcs to worry about? Remind me to kill Taya."

[Assistant]
Neil had managed to get together some of the scrap from within the docking bay, and after haggling a bit with the local populace, he managed to quickly fashion and weld some believable, makeshift armor and clothing to better blend in. Oh he'd did not look well off. The leather overwrapped plates of steel on his torso and the ragged workman's clothing made him seem far more like a high ranking junker ganger than anything, or perhaps a shoddy bodyguard to the far more impressive looking Sayeeda. But he certainly wasn't himself. He'd even gotten some soot and pressed it across his face to better give off a local impression.

"Yeah, no kidding," he mumbled in reply to the Captain's comment. He doubted anyone above them would be a good enough shot to actually attempt to take one, but still. It gave them a slightly more vulnerable feeling. Neil clutched the cargo he carried in his left hand a bit harder, and scanned the crowd for any signs of the meeting. It occurred to him now that they had not discussed with Gnorlaac's second on if they were meeting her specifically or one of Gnorlaac's other goons. Luckily, after a moment of searching they found her in the crowd at a table. Small wonder that every table that sat around her and her two guards were nearly empty, save a few bums that were either concealed hitmen or were too dumb to actually take a hint and leave.

"If she doesn't have the money, I don't even care if we get killed, she's going down." Neil said.

"Just keep calm." Sayeeda told him, though she sounded like she was on edge as much as he was.

"So, you decided to join us my... good friends." Yrla said once they had approached her, and she indicated for them to take a seat. If Neil had a knife he could cut the tension. He'd just need to settle for his loaded revolver if push came to shove. Neil pulled out a seat for Sayeeda, and when she seated he took his own seat. He saw Yria, Sayeeda, the guards, and two of the low class cantina residents eyes followed the wrapped container as he set it on the table.

"So...this is it?" the dark skinned woman asked, eyeing them suspiciously. "You know I'll need it shown to me."

"The money first." Neil said, causing Yria to give an incredulous laugh. Neil just grinned, speaking up. "You wire the money to us. We verify it. Once we have it, we give this to you. If you aren't satisfied, you can kill us." It was matter of fact and simple, but the 'killing them' part would not be so easy. In a crowded Cantina, even one owned by Gnorlaac, a firefight wouldn't be ideal. However, if Neil and Sayeeda planned on stealing from him, it would be justified, which meant in order for everyone to be happy, the deal would go as planned...


[System]
Age: 25

Gender: Female

Equipment/Possessions:

One ceremonial sword, sharpened at a local blacksmith to be usable in combat, intricately designed with the crest of the Crawford family.

One necklace made of silver, holding a brilliant green gem at its center, kept around her neck at all times.

One lute, perfectly tuned and made of a beautifully varnished cedar.

Personality: Axley has had to make a very rough adjustment to her new life as a woman without means. She often finds it difficult to fit in with the people around her when she forgets that she is one of them now, as opposed to a member of the bourgeois who is used to looking down upon the peasants of the lower class. She doesn't take shit from others and tends to have an attitude with people who don't hold her respect. She has a fine eye for detail and a particularly fine ear for music from her upbringing, giving her great talent with both her voice and an instrument.

Though she is intuitive, Axley is not overly versed in the world around her, having grown up sheltered from it for quite some time. She is quick to anger, but not quick to violence, only carrying her blade for intimidation, and only protection as an absolute last resort. She shies away from conflict when she can, though does not step down to the catcalls of the men around her. She has a sarcastic, sassy streak that shows itself whenever she grows irritated with others, but once someone has proven themselves as trustworthy to her, she is a loyal friend that would always keep an eye out for them.

Axley loves fashion in spite of her limited income, and can often be seen in the merchant district, browsing the various silks and fabrics for sale in the wishes that one day she might be able to reclaim her fortune. She'll often try to set up her post near there so that she can look on the job; though she wishes to pinch some for herself, she lacks the skill set to be a thief and knows it. She keeps her nose clean of trouble, though the possibility of breaking the rules and seeking adventure has always allured her, even though she has not had the daring or the strength to take those chances.

Backstory/History: Axley was born to people of means, a wealthy merchant family in the affluent district of Ulfhednar. With a silver spoon in her mouth from birth, Axley grew up never knowing the trials of the lower class. She looked down upon them as her father had, calling them the 'pigs' of the Blessed Isle. She saw herself as entitled, a level above those without money, and quickly developed a superiority complex over those who were without. Having been tutored privately to read and write from a young age, Axley's own interests turned towards music once she had grown of age, and began taking lessons from private instructors to tune her ear to the world of sound around her. After all, were she to land a fetching husband in due time, she would need to showcase some sort of talent to win his affections. That's what her mother told her.

Until the age of twenty-three, Axley lived in comfort with her family, oblivious to the darkness dwelling just outside their pleasant abode. Her father, Eiric Crawford, hadn't acquired all his wealth quite so legitimately-it turned out he owed quite a few favors to the local crime syndicate, and they had grown tired and frustrated with his truancy on his 'donations' to their cause as of late. Eventually, it had all boiled over to a head. While the Crawford family slept one night, Axley awoke from her bed to find the scent of smoke clogging her nostrils. She opened the door to her room to see if something was wrong, only to find the lower floor ablaze, hungry flames consuming everything in reach. Her parents' master bedroom was already blocked off by the blaze, and she found herself desperately low on time to escape; the fire was already making its way up the stairs. Gathering what few possessions she could from the wall, including a family sword and her beloved lute, she tied her blanket to the window and clambered down, making the leap to the ground and running for her life as the fire went on to burn unabated until there was no more.

She didn't have the heart to look back on her destroyed home. The news had spread quickly enough; the charred corpses of her parents had been found, but Axley had been nowhere to be located. Whatever might have survived the blaze was most likely looted by the dawn. She was left with nothing; her fortune evaporated before her eyes, the few things she had managed to save from the tragic fire all she had to her name beyond a little jade.

She knew not what caused the fire, but couldn't bear to face the common folk of Ulfhednar, especially given the reputation she knew her family had with the lower class. Instead, she decided to start life anew. Using what money she had left, she purchased a ticket on a ship traveling south across the river, eventually finding her way to the Imperial Ruins. Nobody recognized her there; she managed to find herself a cheap building on rent on the outskirts of the city, and quickly weaved her way into life there as a traveling bard, wandering the streets and bars singing her hauntingly alluring tunes, now twinged with sadness as hints of her former life leaked out in her voice and lyrics while she played for what coin the folk she used to mock would spare her.

[User]
Running away was obviously a good plan, and Fergus made no objections as he followed Axley, Cilia, and Snow. That said, running away without a plan was likely just postponing the inevitable. The shells kept falling. Buildings and people continued to be consumed and destroyed. The groans of the Juggernaut grew louder and louder. Then it happened. Fergus and the unlikely trio he was now fleeing with were retreating across the city and trying to avoid the deadly bombardment, but ground forces were less easy to evade. Three warriors with sickly grey-white skin and wicked curved blades crossed their path, along with a woman in heavy armor who wielded a flaming sword.

"Not far to the remnants of the grid, General. We'll mop up around here while you get it ready for his arrival." The woman gave no verbal response, and simply ran back toward the center of the city. The three men turned their attention to Fergus and the other survivors from the church, and began their approach. Fergus, while far from a warrior himself, had received his share of combat training from House Mnemon. He drew his short blade, but was visibly trembling. This was not training. If he fouled up here, he would be dead.

"Shit shit shit! What do we do?!" cried the barrister mere seconds before the men were upon them. One took a wide swing at Fergus, who barely stepped out of the way. Rather than lose his whole arm, the sleeve of his shirt was very crudely torn and he took a small cut on his bicep. The pain was not immediate, however. Adrenaline was a hell of a drug. In retaliation, Fergus took a stab at the warrior. While his blade atually hit its mark in the foe's side, there was no blood. This caused Fergus to take another step back. Undead. That meant only one thing. Even a man who was not involved in the Scarlet War knew that undead were often a hallmark of a Deathlord. Wait. Could that mean... no. The monstrous roar. Was this going to be a repeat of what happened in Thorns?!

It may have seemed silly, but Fergus took a rock from one of his pouches and hurled it at his opponent's face. It smashed right into the undead's eye, causing him to yell out in anger and pain as the hefty rock did severe damage to his eye. "We need to leave! Now! Follow me! Please, I beg you trust me!" and with that, he fled toaward the northwest. Fergus knew he needed to tell the ruling class in Lord's Crossing about the impending invasion by the Deathlord. If they were informed of the sacking of the Imperial Ruins yet again, perhaps they might take action. But to ensure that, Fergus (and his new friends) needed to recount their tale of survival and escape to House Mnemon and the other noble houses.

They needed to survive. They needed to escape. They needed to live.

[Assistant]
Cilia Cosgair

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Link to Cilia's Sheet

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[User]
丂刀のW 丂ｱﾑ尺尺のW

He was practically holding Cilia, an arm around the arm of Axley. He made sure they stayed behind Fergus. It might even be out of a desire and a need, a panic to do something, anything. As he ran though, his mind began to enter back into a state of awareness. Adrenaline was pumping through him, and then he remembered his training, his battles on the Threshold. It all came back to him, and how he had to harden his heart and focus on the task at hand.

They got sight of a woman. For a fleeting bleak instant, he saw the Solar that had saved his life so long ago. But this was a twisted reflection. The burning sword was all that was radiant about her. Everything else seemed of malice, cursed and black. The undead, those loathsome creatures against the natural order. He saw them as rotting corpses barely recognizable as human anymore with their weapons. No time to hide, they were noticed.

He released the women, his staff before him as he entered into the five dragon style stance, his front leg forward, back leg bend, the staff held across his body. He waited just a moment "Get behind me~!" He tried to shout but they came at once. Snow knew what to do against a blade, having fought them many a time in the past. He lashed out with his staff, aiming not for the person, but the hand itself. The strike would even if the monster couldnt feel pain, would disrupt their swing. He ducked underneath the swipe, and in a fluid motion, used his leg and staff to trip the creature off his feet, before jumping and spinning the staff raizing back and arching with a jump.

A THWACK hit the creature square in the face, his non existant nose pummeled to gravel, skull shattering against the stones. He took a moment to aid his companions, even as Ferguson edged them ever onward...

[Assistant]
Cilia Cosgair

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Link to Cilia's Sheet

---

Cilia did what she was told, she was good at hiding and being small. Snow moved in a way that was like a well choreographed dance. She watched his muscles tighten as he prepared to fight. She moved back from the fight to stay out of the staff's range.

She could smell the stench of death and the smoke of battle. It made her stomach churn and head ache. Emotionally, she was as charged as the air was filled with the sound. Yet she felt powerless and small.

As she moved back one of the dead things approached in a flanking maneuver. As it came in to attack her, she tried to retreat, while the dead warrior slashed. She threw the book as the sword flashed. It cut into the corner of the book and then into the muscle of her left arm. The momentum of the heavy book deflected the blade enough to keep it from her heart. As the book spun paper came out of the binding and floated in the wind. The heavy binding and most of the pages continued to spin hitting the creature first in the right eye with the cover, then spine hit where the nose should be and finally the back cover hit a cheek and bounced.

The attack did some damage to the creature, but she did not want to see if she killed it or not. She ran after Fergus holding her arm to stop the blood that flowed with each step.


[System]
Age: 16

Gender: Male

Class: 1-A

Personality: Yukito is extremely studious and nerdy, trying to learn all there is about the world he lives in, and the people that live in it. Socially, he is somewhat shy and quiet, but kind and generous, and will not hesitate to try to help a good person in need. He can easily make a decision, and stick with it, but at some times (when he is in a bad state or in panic) it is hard for him to think rationally and he won't stay calm. Regarding his pansexuality, he hasn't spoken of it to his family and friends. He does, however, not try to hide it, as he doesn't want to accidentally lose the chance of love. (And he doesn't flirt. I don't think people like him flirt.)

Background: Geography, physics, math, history, you name it, he's almost definitely got it. What he lacks in strength and personality he excels in intelligence. Yukito's parents are very strict, but they strive for him to be the best, and they wish to enroll him in a prestigious college. In his family life, he has two siblings, an older brother and a younger brother, and his extremely strict parents. His older brother is the slacker of the family, the one who stays home all day doing jack shit. His grade-school level younger brother on the other hand, learned from Yukito and is on par with about a middle school student's intellect. Though Yukito's family isn't even close to the richest, he still was pressured to do his best, by family and friends. From an average person's perspective, they would probably think Yukito's background is pretty average. But the reason why he needs to strive is not just the prestigious college, but his parents. His parents, although very smart and responsible, did not make close to the right decisions in high school/college. They, instead of studying and learning, chose to go with friends and have fun, fool around, and throw parties when no homework or projects were assigned. If it were not for this, Yukito would probably be rich- but also a delinquent like Utaho. But these past mistakes made by his family give him an inside hope to never give up.

Sexual Orientation: Pansexual

Skills:

Geography/World History
Yukito is extremely interested and proficient in the field of Social Studies {Geography/History}, and was even the champion of a regional contest in the subject. This is his best grade, and his grade in this maintains a beautiful A+. He knows all the capitals of the world, from Moscow in Russia to Yaren in Nauru, and even the smaller countries like Bhutan and Georgia. This is obviously his favorite class.
(SUPERIOR INTELLECT WILL BEAT YOU ANYDAY BRO)

Math
As this is also a core class and a very important one as well, Yukito is forced to excel in this. Even though he is not interested in it, he is forced to try to be the best in his class at it, although he himself doesn't think of it that way. That, of course, doesn't mean he does not like the mathematics subject in general. He still believes it is sometimes fun, and crucial to graduate and make lots of money.

Life Sciences/Physics
Although Yukito loves the hands-on part of this subject, and he loves learning about certain parts of Science. But the only problem for Yukito is the arduous, boring lessons and lectures given to the students. In this subject, he seems to excel in organic life, including reproduction, the ecosystem, and cells. (Life Sciences)

Physical Education
He can run. He can jump. But he sucks at everything else. Staying up all night studying and doing entirely academic, indoor activities takes a toll on your physical performance. Although he does exercise occasionally to keep his weight low and his good looks staying fresh.

Extracurricular activities
Yukito is in three different clubs, the Chess, Honors, and the Cooking Clubs. (Yes, I just made those up ;.;) He also knows how to play and practice the piano, but I don't think that would really matter in a zombie apocalypse.

Weapons: N/A

Relationships/Friendships:

Mi Kiyoshi
Yukito only really talked to his very small group of friends, but that doesn't mean he doesn't notice the other kids in his class. His relationship with Mi is unknown, as he hasn't really interacted with her.

Paneru Yagyuu
Paneru is not even an acquaintance to Yukito, as he probably doesn't even notice the poor boy. But since Paneru is an older, class 2 student, Yukito looks up to him as a sort of "role model". Not to mention his kind personality, one that Yukito would try to adopt.

Other: Yes. The tag is right, he is a nerd. Just like me.
They ate Shoske! (What else did they eat?)

[User]
@Kurisa

Utaho knocked away the pencil thrown at her with a lot of ease. She was so pissed that even if she had hurt herself with it, she wouldn't have noticed anyway. "Of course not, bitch! Now-!" She was about to pull Shoske towards her and deliver his righteous punishment... Until the announcement came on. It was creepy as hell, that much was for sure. Kirari and Ami seemed really creeped out. When she heard it, Utaho let go of Shoske and stood up. It seemed way more important than beating the shit out of some idiot that wasn't even worth her time. She put her hands in the pockets of her hoodie and approached the window, standing beside Kurisa. Ami and Kirari went to where she was too and looked at the scene going on outside.

"W-Wha!? What is happening?" Escaped Kirari's lips. The white haired girl couldn't believe what was happening outside, and she took a pair of steps back before falling down. Ami rushed to her side, while Utaho just watched, astonished at what was happening. "Uta-chan... What is happening out there?!" Ami asked her. Utaho simply stayed silent for a while. "Uta-chan?" She asked again.

"Dunno...." She got away from the window, still pretty surprised at what was happening, but sounding oddly calm. She then approached Kurisa, and motioned with her head for both Kirari and Ami to come with them as well. Ami helped a wobbly Kirari stand up and they also walked to where Utaho was. "But you are right, Kurisa. We can't just stay here. Those things will probably eat us." Even though she tried to sound as calm as always, it was a reality that her legs were shaking like crazy. Ami put a hand on Utaho's shoulder, to calm her down. She didn't have that luxury, though. The stupid ass president ran away on his own. "Wait, you fuckin' fou-!" Before she could finish, it was already too late and the president was no more. It was good that Kirari and Ami didn't move like, at all, from where Utaho was. If they had been as stupid as the prez, they'd be dead by now too. Only a question remained in her head. "How the hell did he got elected president." She whispered, and it made her laugh a bit.

She turned to face Kurisa again, both Kirari and Ami following her actions. "I am pretty dumb, so..." Utaho turned to Kirari, who let out a little gasp after her friend's eyes posed over her.

"E-Eh? Y-Yes, I think... it would be a good idea to do that. What else can we do? Those things are swarming the stairs." She said, turning to see the place where the president had disappeared into.

"Then, we are with ya, Kurisa." Utaho finished, while Ami and Kirari both nodded at Kurisa.

[Assistant]
The announcement terrified Mi. It was terrifying. Mi was frisking out, but she tried not to show it. As Mi gas trying to figure out what was going on, a rational part of her brain told her one thing. You are great with medicine. Get stuff from the nurse's office. She was out last time you went, Mi thought to herself, standing up and dashing to the exit of the gym. She maneuvered through the crowd, breaking off of the panicking mass of students in order to beeline to the nurse's office. Mi didn't think about weapons. She thought about what she was good at. Medicine. And so that was what she was going to get.

As Mi ran through the halls and slammed open the doors to the nurse's office she frantically looked inside, making sure it was empty. She then looked around and saw a messenger bag. She picked it up and began to shove medical supplies in it. Every now and then she would look over her shoulder at the door, and much to Mi's relief she didn't see anything. Once Mi had filled the messenger bag with medicine, bandages, and other medical items she left the office. Mi skittishly eyed the halls and rooms as she left, she was highly alert for any signs of anything. She didn't want to be attacked and die. Mi wanted to survive. So being alert was the only thing she could do.


[System]
23 years old
Knights; Spies for the Rebellion

Daryn and Daelyn share a past that they do not like to repeat. The two of them grew up on a tiny fishing boat which only came to shore to sell its wares. The fishing boat was a relatively wealthy business, and most of their youth was pleasant. The rebellion kept its distance from the four of them, although they understood enough of what was going on. At some point, their mother was asked to come help with the rebellion, because she was from one of the families that founded the rebellion. She did, leaving her children on the boat. At the age of twelve, Daryn and Daelyn watched their mother's execution, hidden behind their father in a crowd of people.

Something in the children sparked as they watched their mother being carried to a pile of bodies. When they turned 18, they both left their father's now failing fishing boat to join the rebellion, with a promise that they would return with enough money to fix his boat, if not buy him a new one. That was five years ago.

When they joined the rebellion, they were thrown into training as blank slates. Daelyn wasn't a fighter; that was easy to see. He had the strength and the size, but he couldn't stand to kill, to see the light fade from their eyes. He was too gentle, too nurturing. Dae became a shy boy, rarely ever talking, cradling animals and babies. Eventually, he was moved to help care for the animals around the base. Daryn, on the other hand, flourished. What she lacked in muscle, she made up for in agility and wit. She was smart, and she could beat any man in a sword fight. Yet, Daryn was rough, crass at times. She didn't know how to hold her tongue or her temper, and often, she found herself in trouble. Daryn cared for Dae like she was his mother though. Protecting him endlessly put a joy in her heart that she couldn't explain. They would often be seen, standing, shoulders touching, just whispering or breathing.

One can tell that Daryn and Daelyn are identical twins. Both of them have brown, ringlets of hair. Daryn keeps it at rest on her shoulders; Daelyn at the ear length. To lesson the confusion, Dae shows a full brown beard. Both adults have bright, sea blue eyes that reflect the very waves of the ocean they grew up on. They are beautiful people, in two very different ways. Since they live as peasants, both of them wear gray tunics that reach about mid-thigh, black pants, and gray ankle height boots. Daelyn wears a necklace that once belonged to his mother; Daryn wears a bracelet made from fishing twine all braided together, a gift from her father.

[User]
Daelyn came into the clearing where he could hear Ser'deni yelling for him. He sat the unconscious Daryn down, moving over to inspect the prince. There was a lot of blood, and it made his heart race. It seemed to be all over the two of them. Ser'deni looked weak, but whatever wound Triver had gotten was healed up. Daelyn saw the bloody arrow laying on the grass and assumed poison. He looked around at the horses. Two of them were severely wounded, show through the chest. They would be dead before morning. He stood, going after the other two horses, who were hidden in the bushes.

"There's a healer in Port," Daryn muttered, as he walked past her with the horses. She was moving around, although the wound on her leg throbbed steadily. She didn't even try to get up. Her head spun, and she felt like she might vomit. Daelyn nodded down at her, picking her up and putting her on her horse.

"That's where we will go then," he said, situating her against the beast's neck. He seriously doubted that she would be able to stay upright. He tied the horses reins to his own horse's, going to pick up Triver. The boy was a dead weight. Whatever poison was on that arrow had severe paralyzing effects. Daelyn put the boy on the back of Daryn's horse, right up against her. He wrapped the boys arms around Daryn, and she held on to him as tight as she could. Daelyn moved and swept up Ser'deni next, knowing she could probably walk. But she looked dead tired. He sat her up on his own horse, and swung up on it behind her. She was much smaller than him, and it was easy to reach around her.

"I promise we will make it," he whispered to her, touching her upper arm, "I won't let anything happen to him." He had noticed how close they were. Daelyn didn't know how they were connected, but they reminded him of Daryn and himself. He knew how much it hurt her to see him hurt. He felt it now, looking at Daryn with her still bleeding, fist sized hole in her leg. Daelyn kicked his horse into a run, jerking the other horse into movement.

The path was black. He had to rely on the horse's senses to get through the overgrown path. He forked to the right when the time came, hoping he remembered the way. Hours seemed to pass as they pulsed forward. Daryn could feel the horse's heart racing under her, its muscles pulsing on her pained legs. The air began to smell like salt, and she perked up, knowing they were close to home. Already, if she looked up, she could see the gates.

The horses slowed down as the gates came into view. Daelyn brought them to a stop, staring down at the two guards.

"Your business here?" the older man asked, crossing his arms.

"We are looking for a healer," Daelyn said, "My sister and I were born in Port. We have friends in the village." The man looked at him with hesitation, glancing over at Daryn, who struggled to hold her head up. The man raised his hand at his partner, who went for the crank. As soon as the gate was open wide enough, he lead the horses through.

Port was exactly how the twins remembered. It was on long line on buildings facing the cliffs down to the sea. The natural cliff rocks made roads, and the horse's steps clattered across the sleeping town. They passed the town center, where a fire still burned. Animals roamed around the village unattended, eating whatever had been left out for them. Daelyn led the horses down to the last house in the line and began banging on the door. When no one answered right away, he began to hit louder and faster, until the door swung angrily open. An old, disheveled lady stepped outside, glaring at him. She had a mountain of white, wild hair piled up on her head, and her skin was covered in black markings, making her look threatening. The twins knew better.

"Daelyn Lyker, what brings the likes of you to my doorstep at this hour?" Daelyn smiled at the old lady, who was talking louder than normal. She looked around the street.

"Please, Amaria, we need a healer," Daelyn said, nodding to the three people still on the horses.

"Boy, that man is on the brink of death! And that poor mage looks like she could faint walking," she scolded, "Hurry bring them in, before you wake up the entire village." She disappeared into the house, leaving the four of them on the doorstep. Daelyn grabbed Triver up, taking him into the house and setting him down on the large wooden table that sat in the middle on the front room. He went back and got Ser'deni, laying her down on one of the many cots that lined the room. Amaria had been one of the best healers within 100 miles, but he didn't know if her business still thrived. He went back to get Daryn, who jumped down into his arms. Once inside, she did her best to stand, leaning against the door frame.

"I'll stand guard," she muttered, brushing her long hair away from her face. Amaria rushed over to her, shoving a wet clump of leaved in her hand.

"Pack that into the wound, and don't let anyone in until morning," the old woman said, leaving her to tend to herself.

[Assistant]
The ride to Port wasn't rough on Triver, he couldn't feel the horse beneath him and he couldn't see anything beyond just blurs of color that bled together to create dark areas. He didn't feel bad; he knew that he was dying. There was something that he found to be peaceful about it and it was the fact that his body was numb. If he could have felt anything then maybe his reaction would have been a bit different.
There were so many things that the Prince needed to do still. He needed to find Inaris and take him back home, he needed to make sure that Ser'deni wouldn't cry, he needed to ensure that his knights were safe...he wanted a family; he wanted to fall in love and get married. If he died now, he would regret everything in his life.

After some time the Prince simply passed out.

Ser'deni was afraid for once. Usually she could handle things like death and being injured because that was what she had been taught to do. It was different when she cared for the person who was dying. She had never felt this before and the feeling on its own was frightening and confusing. The woman fought to stay awake throughout the ride.
When they slowed and she could hear the sounds of a sleeping town, she let out a deep sigh. There was hope for Triver after all. They were taken down from the horse one by one and honestly she was a bit frustrated. She was a mage, not a kid and she was sure that she was older than the twins anyways.

Triver could hear the fuzzy and far-off voices of everyone around him. He could hear the twins and the stranger and even Ser'deni.

The mage tried to get up from the cot but she felt so sleepy and she nearly fell forward. "It'll be okay." She said to Triver as she reached for his hand. One of her hands was placed on the table to keep her balance and the other gripped the Prince's hand. He would have gripped hers back if he had the chance. Ser'deni sighed and pressed her lips to his forehead before smoothing back his sandy hair. The woman scolded her and the mage was about to say something back when something was thrust into her hands.

"A blanket." The woman said before moving about, grabbing things to heal the prince. Ser'deni felt useless as she felt her way back to the cot. Once she was curled up into a small ball and she had the blanket draped over her, the mage began to cry. Was she going to lose the two people that she held the most dear? She had lost her mother but she had been too young to understand or remember her clearly.

In the morning the mage woke with no memory of falling asleep. The only thing that she remembered was Triver was on death's door. She sat up too quickly and her mind spun as she looked around the room. Although she was weak with mind magic, Ser'deni could reach out and poke around at the minds of other people. She used it as a means of moving through crowded rooms without the need to openly display her disability. He's still here. She thought once she came into contact with Trivr's dreams. She knew it was Triver because everyone had a unique color to their thoughts. Triver's was a deep and dark royal blue. Inaris's had been a muddy gold. Even the twins had their own color.

The mage tumbled to the floor, her feet tangled in the blanket and she furiously kicked it away from her before scrambling to Triver, who had been placed on a nearby cot.

He was asleep but alive and that was all that mattered to her.