[System]
BASIC
Goes By (Nicknames): Mel
Age: 2,500 approx.
Gender: Female
Race: Silvan Elf

APPEARANCE

Face Claim (Actor/Actress They're Played By): Ehh, she's never really had an actress per se, it's a drawn picture that I found on google that I use for her but it's just perfect for her xD)
Hair Color: Straw blonde
Eye Color: Ice blue
Skin Tone: Quite pale-porcelain-ish
Height: 6 ft
Weight: No idea tbh XD I'm no good at working out weights lol let's just say she weighs around what she's supposed to for her height
Build: Slender and tall like all of her kin, well-muscled with a strong/sturdy frame overall
Weapons: Bow (which was once her father's, was passed on to her when she was old enough to learn to shoot), Rapier, set of elven fighting knives

Overall Appearance:
Appearance + "Casual" Clothing (ignore the sword and the magic mist stuff, she doesn't have that xD) :

Armor:

Arm guards:

Bow:

Rapier:

Daggers:

PERSONALITY

Likes: The stars/star watching, spending time with her family, killing orcs etc.
Dislikes: Orcs and other such evil beings, watching her loved ones sad/suffering
Strengths: An excellent and swift fighter with both bow and blade, fiercely loyal and devoted to her family and loved ones, will always stand up for her beliefs and friends
Weaknesses: Headstrong and stubborn, does not always listen to others' advice or orders. Often impulsive and rushes into things before thinking of consequences.
Fears: Surviving severe injury but not being able to fight or look after herself properly, losing Legolas or Thranduil, being unable to have her own children someday

Overall Personality:
(huge paragraphs oops sorry-have a basic breakdown in case you don't feel like reading the whole thing xD)
Sarcastic | Untrusting | Loyal | Sharp-tongued/snappy | Compassionate | Sensitive

Mel is a witty, fairly sharp tongued and often sarcastic individual, she is wary of strangers and will take quite some time to trust most she meets, though those who have a child-like innocence about them seem to find her trust a lot easier. However her tough exterior does hide a soft and loving side deep down. To her family and close friends she is devoted and gentle, and would do anything for them. Losing someone that she cares deeply for affects her more than most perhaps, and it would take her a good few centuries on most accounts to reach the point where she can accept it fully and "move on" from it as well as she is capable. Indeed she still feels melancholy at thoughts of her passed relatives but can push it aside if the situation calls for it. Her sense of duty is unparalleled to most, and many a Mirkwood soldier who has served under her command has been known to describe Mel as "hard headed and as determined and foul-tempered as a Warg keeping hold of the last scrap of meat at mealtime". Once she has a job to do, she will not abandon it for any cause, no matter the consequences, until the task is completed.

Mel is extremely wary of dragons and would sooner attempt to kill one than converse with it, regardless of whether it approached her in a friendly manner or not. She has seen the ruin and death that dragons can bring, and indeed she will never forgive the beasts for tearing apart her family, to ask her to befriend one will be met with only contempt, bitterness and hate on her end. Other than dragons, there is very little that sparks enough fear in her to reduce her to a blubbering mess, as Mel is a particularly tenacious individual which is to be expected from someone who has grown up in a forest which has been steadily taken over by darkness and evil. Having to slay and fight with nests crawling with extremely large spiders on a daily basis means it's not exactly a "good idea" for lack of a better way to phrase it, to be afraid of them. However, anything larger than those spiders which she has experienced in Mirkwood is highly likely to leave her rather bemused and more than slightly concerned, as she has never confronted any arachnid of a larger size before in her life. In regards to how she responds to fear, even when Mel is scared to death she is not the type of individual to stand there literally quaking in her boots, whimpering and bawling. Instead she typically takes on the "rabbit in the headlights" kind of approach and tends to completely freeze up, totally unsure of whether to run away or fight whatever puts her in that position.

While she is by no means a "damsel in distress", nor does she necessarily act like a "spoilt princess", however she does occasionally act at rather 'high and mighty' as some may describe it, because of her well-off upbringing. Mel isn't a tantrum thrower by any stretch of the imagination, but she does at times react to things which displease her by pouting and/or sulking and then proceeding to make some sort of snide comment on the matter. Snide comments and sharp remarks are something Mel is never short of, which may come as a shock to some as they would expect someone of her upbringing to be "polite and lady-like", though she is far from it. She is not inherently rude all the time, and due to countless lessons from her aunt and uncle in her younger years she is perfectly capable of acting in a civil manner to form treaties, alliances and other such things, and is indeed even rather capable of sitting in on many political matters and being rather persuasive towards her own or her kingdom's need and win the opposing party over - even if it bores her to death! She does not take lightly to insults towards either herself or her family or kingdom, and unfortunately it doesn't take much to get her riled up. Mel is not unknown to take a swing or two at someone who overstepped their mark with her, though for the most part she tries her best to keep herself controlled and will usually just respond in turn with some other cutting remark towards the person who started the whole affair.

BACKGROUND

Date of Birth: I actually haven't been able to work it out exactly just yet XD it's a couple decades before Legolas', though ;)
Place of Birth: Mirkwood (well, back then it was still Greenwood but yeah XD)
Family Relations: Ardor (father, deceased) Thranduil (uncle), Legolas (cousin)

[User] Gandalf shook his head and chuckled in amusement as he smiled at Bilbo as if this had been planned all along between them. "Nonsense." he spoke to the woman standing next to him. "You'll find he's more than capable, come let's get inside out of the wind." the wizard added as he stepped over the dwarves on the threshold who were grumbling and cursing amongst themselves as they picked themselves up off the floor and brushed the dust off their clothes.

[Assistant] Groaning the woman followed, walking over the company with her elegant legs that appear to be covered with a black catsuit which had a few traces of feathers being embedded into the clothing. With her head down, she managed to get through the door with her curled horns kept down. She didn't get too far inside, but just kept herself intrigued near the fireplace. "Explain this to me, wizard", Bilbo demanded.

[User] "Now now Bilbo, no need to get so upset!" Gandalf protested with raised eyebrows. "They're quite a merry gathering, once you get used to them. All will be explained shortly when the leader of the party arrives."

[Assistant] "I don't want to get used to them. Look at the state of my kitchen! There's mud trod in the carpet, they…they've pillaged the pantry! I'm not even gonna tell you what they've done in the bathroom, they've all but destroyed the plumbing! I don't understand what they're doing in my house!", Bilbo was now rambling. This wasn't helping. "Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt. But what should do with my plate?", one of them asked the Hobbit. "Here you go, Ori, give it to me", the one named Fili from earlier responded. He threw it to his brother, who also throws it to another dwarf in the kitchen, they continued doing this with all the plates. "Excuse me! That's my mother's Westfarthing pottery, it's over a hundred years old!", Bilbo told them, almost going into a panic. The female heard music coming from the kitchen and she stayed in the shadows behind the kitchen door frame. "And…and, ca…can you not do that, you'll blunt them!" "Ooh, d'you hear that, lads? He says we'll blunt the knives!" "Blunt the knives, bend the forks" "Smash the bottles and burn the corks" "Chip the glasses and crack the plates. That's what Bilbo Baggins hates! Cut the cloth and tread on the fat. Leave the bones on the bedroom-mat, pour the milk on the pantry-floor, splash the wine on every door, dump the crocks in a boiling bowl, pound them up with a thumping pole. When you've finished, if any are whole, send them down the hall to roll!" Gandalf and the female were chuckling in amusement as they watch the dwarves clean up the dishes and cutlery as they sing. "That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!", the dwarves laughed as Bilbo walks into the kitchen to see all his plates and cutlery all cleaned and stacked.

[User]
Gandalf simply smiled cheerfully at Bilbo, thankful that the dwarves didn't do any of the awful things that they had said in the song, or else the hobbit would never agree to go. He counted the dwarves who were present and noticed that there was still one missing. Thorin had still not arrived.

No sooner had Gandalf thought this than there was a loud, thumping knock on the door that made all the other dwarves go silent.

[Assistant] As soon as the door was thumped against, and the room turned silent, all that was heard was the shuffling of the female, who has seemed to scatter and retreat into the shadows as if there was something to fear. Her outfit perfectly camouflaging in the darkness, except for her eyes. She wasn't to be feared by, not anymore, but this one dwarf wasn't one she was ready to come across.

[User]
"He is here." Gandalf murmured as he crossed the room, with Bilbo behind him and went to open the door. On the doorstep stood a dwarf with hair as black as the other dwarf who had come with his twin earlier, and silver-grey eyes that seemed to bore straight into your soul. He glowered up at the wizard as he stepped over the threshold.
"Gandalf. I thought you said this place would be easy to find; I lost my way, twice. Wouldn't have found it at all if it hadn't been for that mark on the door."

"Mark on the d-?!" Bilbo gawked at the dwarf in shock, then protested indignantly. "There is no mark on that door, I assure you sir, it was painted just last week!"
"There is a mark, Bilbo. I put it there myself." the wizard confessed.

[Assistant] Unknown to them, the female felt invisible to the rest of the company, hopefully able to make herself known. She was stuck in the darkness, but she was close to Gandalf. Finally able to walk out, she thought that introductions would be made first. "I'm not liking this at all", she whispered to the wizard, clearly uncomfortable in this kind of situation. Having a old grudge see his vendetta wasn't one she wanted to cross paths with.

[User] "Just relax, Maleficent." Gandalf shook his head to the strange female. "You are not doing yourself any favors by being so afraid constantly. You will never break free from your past if you cannot let it go."

[Assistant] As much as Maleficent wanted to hide, she knew she couldn't hide forever, especially from the likes of Thorin Oakinsheild. She made herself known, but kept her wings closed tightly against her body. "So, this is the hobbit. Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?", the new dwarf asked the Hobbit. "Pardon me?" "Axe or sword, what's your weapon of choice?" "Well, I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know. But I fail to see why that's relevant" "I thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar", this made the other dwarves laugh.

[User]
Bilbo seemed put off by the dwarf's scathing comment, and in truth it hurt his feelings somewhat though he knew he couldn't let it show, so he simply shuffled past them and made his way to his armchair.

"Now that everyone is here, come, let us discuss things." Gandalf directed the others left in the hallway towards the dining room where the other dwarves were still waiting.

[Assistant] "What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?" "Aye, envoys from all seven kingdoms" "And what did the dwarves of the Iron Hill say? Is Dain with us?" "They will not come", visibly upset they all were, even Maleficent who sat beside Gandalf, but she kept a good distance from Thorin. She wasn't afraid of the dwarf, but she didn't want to cross him if they ever mentioned his father, whom she killed during her corruption. "They say this quest is ours, and ours alone" "You're doing a quest?", Bilbo piped in.

[User]
"Far to the east, over hills and ranges, sits a single solitary peak." Gandalf explained as Thorin unfurled the map on the table.
Bilbo peered over the dwarf's shoulder and read the label scrawled under the diagram of the single mountain peak. "The Lonely Mountain..."

[Assistant] "I figured", Maleficent thought aloud. "One of the last dwarven kingdoms of Middle Earth. Encased in a mountain, famed of its enormous treasure. Currently guarded by the great Smaug the Terrible", she said in grim when she looked over to the map. "Far into the Misty Moutains, it would be across Laketown, and from there, the dark woods of Mirkwood itself", she added when one of her finger cuffs trailed over the map in the directions she described. "If you're wondering, I've been there. I saw the dragon, I saw the treasure, I saw the darkness, and also, the sickness".


[System]
Age: 16

Race: Human

Gender: Female

Appearance:

A bright eyed girl from the Steppes of the Northeastern highlands, she carries with her a brightness and optimism that would lead one to believe her a simple runaway girl with dreams of adventure. Her complexion is tanned from her time spent under the open sky, and she seems to be in a perpetual good mood, judging from her omnipresent smile. She is of a lithe build, and has a slightly bowlegged stance from her life spent riding on a horse. Her arms and legs are fairly toned and muscular for her frame, making her a lot stronger than your average girl from a farm.

She is almost perpetually seen with her hair in a ratty mess, the only restraint to it being her hairband that keeps her bangs from blocking her vision entirely. Her outfit usually consists of a traditional tunic of the Steppe, with large sleeves that give her arms free movement, a black long skirt that has been ripped at the sides to allow her legs more freedom, and a pair of leather sandals. When adventuring, she wears a leather breastplate beneath her dress for added protection.

Height: 5'7"
Eye Color: Amber
Hair Color: White

Personality:
A little ball of sunshine and happiness, there doesn't seem to be much in this life that can get the Steppe Archer down. She carries with her an almost infectious energy that brightens up the room, seemingly always in high spirits.

Her optimism is matched by her keen observation skills. In just a few minutes, she can identify the people in a room at a glance, and tell how someone is feeling by their expression. Despite her perceptive nature, she herself is very blunt, and often unable to think before she speaks. It is not uncommon for something she says to come across as harsh due to her lack of common sense compared to most other people.

Likes: Horses, Sweet Meats, and Flowers
Dislikes: Enclosed spaces, Negative thinking, and Insects
Hobbies: Leather working, Cooking, and Stargazing

History:
On the large rolling plains of the Northeastern Highlands, one is born, lives, and dies on the move. There is no pause available to the nomadic people, with each waking moment spent with focus being on procuring food, supplies, and, once those begin to run low, the focus shifts to uprooting the camps and moving elsewhere on the Steppe. Their society is organized by numerous small "tribes" that have banded together to form a Confederacy, overseen by a leader who rules for a period of ten years after a martial tournament is held between the greatest fighters of the tribes.

Before she was born, her father was heralded as the mightiest man on the Steppe, unbested in archery, and a master of wrestling. On the second year after she was born, he was dethroned and retired to his previous life of being a hunter to provide. In the time she spent with her father, she would learn the art of the hunt, and come to grow into a young girl. Life would proceed as it did, the circle of life in an unending loop, marching onwards with the beat of the people who's lives were spent chasing life. It wasn't all bad, not in the slightest. The meat was plentiful, the hunt was thrilling, and the life lead was one far from purposeless.

Eventually however, the decade-held tournament would be held, and with the rise of a new chief came new and bizarre laws. One of which being that a "bride" of each tribe was to be offered to his son, as if they were pieces of meat to be handed out. And quite unfortunately, she was "selected" as the delegated bride. Rather than accept some impish demand for her virtue and hand in marriage to some spineless whelp, she would instead flee the Steppe with her father and mother's blessings, figuring that she could eek out a living as a mercenary or adventurer.

With no military willing to accept such a young girl despite her demonstrated skills, she was left with no avenue but to become an adventurer, arriving in Palisade town on the Frontier due to its closeness to home.

Adventuring Rank: Porcelain

Equipment:
Nomad Bow: A composite recurve bow of Steppe Archer's own making, made out of horn, wood, and sinew. It is well used from the years that Steppe Archer has spent hunting. Due to its smaller overall size compared to a normal bow, it is ideal for shooting on horseback and while moving, while not sacrificing the power of a full bow.

Nomad's Sword: A steel curved sword resembling a slightly less curved scimitar. Ideal for slashing things apart, or gliding past something with a slash. Has a large enough grip to be two-handed.

Torchfire: A beautiful mature auburn colored horse that Steppe Archer rode into town on. Despite the fact that she isn't able to bring it on many adventures due to the danger, she still insists on keeping it stabled up in Palisade Town, just in case she needs it. She is Steppe Archer's pride and joy, and her greatest asset in battle on a more open plain.

Skinning Knife: A small knife that's sharp enough to cut through flesh. Usually used by Steppe Archer to skin the beasts that she slays, in order to sell the pelts for a sizable sum. Steppe life taught her never to be wasteful.

Steppe Ensemble: Steppe Archer's protective leather breastplate beneath her folk-style dress. Her clothes keep her cool in just about any climate, and the leather armor beneath provides enough protection to shield her from light damage.

Porcelain Adventurer's Tag

Skills:
Horseback Riding: There are few that can match the riders of the Steppe when it comes to equestrian based combat, and as a proud Steppe child, Steppe Archer can ride with the best of them.

Trap Setting/Disarming: Much of the Steppe's hunting is done using traps to catch prey. As such, Steppe Archer is proficient in finding the perfect spots to place traps, whether that be to aid her friends, or harm her foes.

Handy Woman: On the Steppe, work is divided amongst the men and women equally. As such, Steppe Archer is skilled with physical labor, capable of many tasks that many in the realm would consider "men's" work.

[User]
Steppe Archer was in absolute disbelief as the man wet himself. He really DID have no dignity, didn't he? Oh god, and now he was crying on top of it...

Steppe Archer visibly cringed at the sight of it all, starting to really, really wonder why men went to such lengths when it came to drinking. Did the man mistake himself for a fish? Because as far as she saw, he sure was better at running than any fish she'd ever caught. Hanging her arms in a mixture of disgust, contempt, and disappointment, Steppe Archer would raise one hand, then the other, before slapping herself on the cheeks to snap herself out of the instant funk brought on seeing...THAT.

"Erm...We did it...? Wait yeah, that's right Mister Barkeep, we didn't even have to take him in!" The nomad girl would say, regaining a bit of her pep. Smiling at their accomplishment, Steppe Archer would nudge The Lizard Fighter with her elbow, saying: "But, if it weren't for Big Red here, we might have had to beat him up a bit. So...guess you're a really good guard!"

Steppe Archer would smile widely, but, seeing that her druidic friend was looking a bit down, would come up beside her and pat her head. "And your bit about having him EAT the guy if he didn't go home was great acting! Oh, and don't let what that guy said get to you -- Men are really gross when they're drunk," she would say, trying to ease her companion's nerves over what she perceived as being the issue. After all, getting told you have huge knockers had to be humiliating. Not...not that Steppe Archer would ever get to know that humiliation. But she could assume it!

Now with her spirits raised back to full, Steppe Archer would lead them towards the residential district, looking up at the moon for a bit. "...Its really bright. Tonight's beautiful..." she would say, a smile tugging at her lips.

[Assistant]
If this man had been an adventurer, then Lizard Fighter knew magic. It was a rather pathetic sight, why did humans do this to themselves? It honestly baffled him every time he thought about it. But it didn't take long for the man to finally notice the tall reptilian man who was glaring down at him with eyes that promised pain if he didn't get his ass going.

Of course the man, in his drunkness, thought Lizard Fighter was a dragon. Which got his eye to twitch as the man fell on his ass and began to scoot away until he hit a building. A sight so pathetic he didn't think he'd see another like it ever again. A full grown human male crying, snotting, and begging someone to save him.

Druid Girl got in on it now, threatening the man with being eaten by the 'dragon' if he didn't get going right now. Whatever self preservation he had finally kicked in and off he stumbled. You couldn't really call it a run, and it was more than a shaky walk.

The bar keeper started laughing, having thought the oaf would start swinging at the temporary guards. At least someone got amused by the situation. His attention went to the Druid Girl before shrugging. "It's fine. He stated neutrally, he had never tasted human but judging by the fact animals almost always refused to touch their corpses...they must taste bad.

A pair of slaps, and Archer Girls reddened cheeks let him know she...had done something to herself and seemed happy no one had to get into a scuffle because intimidation. But... why did she slap herself?! Why were humans so damn weird?! Instantly that all got shoved into the back of his mind before the group began their patrolling once more. "Watch your step for...puddles." He said, no need to step in drunken vomit or urine. The bright moons would easily reveal the glistening slop.

Archer Girl mentioned it being really bright out because of the two moons being nearly full. "Maybe that will keep crime down since it's so bright out." He commented, couldn't steal or break in if you were easily visible after all! Still he kept his eyes peeled for suspicious activity. Another thing that confused him about humans. Always craving what others have! Get some money and get it yourself! Or duel for it.

[User]
Happy to hear that her Lizard-friend hand't taken offense, at least not enough to warrant a complain, Druid Girl smiled again. Perhaps it was nice or empowering to be mistaken for a dragon? After all, they were some of the most powerful and ferocious beings alive, so being called a dragon was hardly an insult... Unless, of course, the Lizardfolk has some kind of contrived pride that lizards were in some way superior to dragons... Which the girl doubted very much.

Hearing Steppe Archer's comment about drunken men being scum and foul made the girl stifle a chuckle. True enough, they were a generally gross and unpleasant lot, but the same could be aid for almost anyone. Very few people, regardless of race or gender, were 'pleasant' drunks after all. Still, she appreciated her companion's attempt at cheering her up, and thanked her properly for it. The head-pat however... Druid Girl wasn't quite sure how to respond to that - usually, she was the one doing things like that after all!

As they walked and entered the residential area of the western part of town, the archer made a comment about it being bright and pretty out that night. In truth, it really was quite lovely, though it would have been more so if they had been out in the wilds, rather than walking around the cobbled streets of a dingy little frontier town like this. Still, one had to make do with what was given. Big Red, however, was as pragmatic as always, seeing the bright light not as something to appreciate, but rather just another tool with which to complete his job, and do so with less risk and effort. Really, the lizardman really needed to learn how to enjoy the little things in life... Or perhaps he could only enjoy things that mattered to his lifestyle and culture? The scaly ones were a different species after all, so values and priorities were bound to be different, but still...

Regardless, the trio patrolled along the houses and buildings, stopping a few times to peer down alleyways and narrow streets, peeking out around corners and over hedges or fences. Still, for all their sleuthing and searching for ne'er-do-wells, they ended up with nothing to show for it. It seemed that tonight really was a quiet time for crime, with no hoodlum muggers or back-alley burglars plotting to do ill doings with nefarious motives. Honestly, it was a bit boring, but after having had to clean a ditch of rotting animals, then bathe in a cold-as-heck river during sunset and then watching a grown, drunken man wet himself, perhaps they had all had enough excitement for one day?

Almost as soon as they finished their rounds in the residential district, they peered up to see the green moon hanging at the very crown of the sky, higher and more elevated than any other astral body.

"Looks like it's about time." Druid Girl said, having gazed at the moons, then glancing at both her companions. "We just needed to report back to the garrison, right?" She asked, not rememberign quite clearly if that was actually necessary. Though given their run-in with the drunk, it was understandable that her mind was a bit... adrift...

Given their current location, all they needed to do was head inwards, towards the center of town, and then a bit north and they'd be back at the garrison in very little time. Hopefully, no unfortunate business or random encounters would show up to block their path and impede their progress at completing this quest and getting the appropriate reward.

[Assistant]
Steppe Archer's smile only brightened at the prospect of their job getting easier with the bright moons being out. It certainly made alleyways more inviting, with each hour passing only making each place a more unsafe place for darkness to dwell. She really did feel like they were doing great, even if this was just a single, well-lit night on the job. If she didn't feel like getting harassed by drunks on a bi-nightly basis was a turn-off, she might well have considered swapping careers...but adventures sounded a lot more fun than guard duty. Still, she wouldn't mind taking a job like this another time, if needed to.

As the time grew nearer for them to end their night off and head to bed, Steppe Archer would yawn and stretch, energy finally having hit its limits. "Yeah, we just...gotta get back to the garrison, get paid, and go to bed." she would say, starting to walk towards the center of town with her companions, then back north to the garrison. It was simple enough to get back, and, with the time limit having just been hit, it was a good time for the nomadic archer to finally bottom out on stamina.

Thankfully, nothing would happen as they entered, the archer stepping forward to say: "We patrolled around, and no trouble sir! We found a drunk, but...he found out that going home was a lot better than spending the night in a cell," she would say, extinguishing her torch and saluting.


[System]
Age: Unknown, but reckoned to be at least a century old.
Legion: Luna Wolves, renounced.
Planet of Origin: Terra or Cthonia.
Physical Description:Prodigal Son's armor is repaired from battlefield salvage and the paint has been carefully scraped off and the pauldron insignia defaced and painted over with the Raptor Imperialis symbol of the Reunification Wars, a symbol forces loyal to the Emperor fought under on Terra as well as the Imperial Aquila. The armor is not as efficient as a properly-maintained mark, but it gets him into the fight. He's done the best he can with repairs, but the battle damage shows.

With the helmet off, Prodigal Son is unremarkable, but has a gold service stud and a silver service stud on his brow. He does not like to display them often, for they display his features and those tell a tale; as is sometimes the case, the gene-seed expresses strongly, as it does here.

His is the likeness of the Warmaster, the Betrayer Horus. To perhaps further demonstrate where he stands on the matter, he has the Imperial Aquila tattooed onto his cheek. The other is marred with the scars of las-fire and the shrapnel from a melted helmet face-plate, a memento of one of the engagements of the Great Crusade. His head is completely shaven.

When not fighting, when not focusing, he stares off into the distance, his mind visibly churning. He wrestles with himself, with his love of his former brothers. With his shame for his gene-father's betrayal.

Skillset:Prodigal Son is a tactical marine to the bone; there are few tasks that a Space Marine and his bolter are not suited to, after all. The tools depend on the tactical situation. Some Legions wed themselves to specific styles, but the true essence is to adapt, but adapt ferociously and, above all, win. That was always the way of his legion, as it moved from victory to victory, rarely tasting defeat. His experience in numerous Imperial Compliance actions has honed his capabilities.

History:Prodigal Son's exact circumstances are not entirely known, mostly because he does not speak -- his oath is of silence, his penance is in deeds. His Primarch's sin cannot be washed away, and he intends to sell his life dearly to the enemies of the Emperor. It is hard to say whether the man is one of the Luna Wolves holdovers of the original intake of Terran recruits or a Cthonian addition that stayed strangely loyal to the Emperor when so many of his own followed the Warmaster, their gene-father, where he would lead.

What is known is that the Rogue Trader picked up Prodigal Son on the planet Polybius on his route; there was ferocious fighting between Imperial Army elements and Chaos Cultists seeded there by the Word Bearers Legion. Prodigal Son did not command, did not rally, did not organize. He fought, hunting the leaders, looking to decapitate the cultist command. Those he did not end with a bolter round to the head he hacked down ferociously with a chainsword. He stalked the trenchworks like a ghost. When he struck, it was with singular and suicidal ferocity, fury made manifest.

In one particular case at the end of the revolt on Polybius, out of ammo for his bolter and out of promethium for his chainsword, he encountered a leader of the Cultists. The Psyker tried to seduce him with the words of a demon that knew all too well what his heritage was. The woman's skull was splattered messily with two rapid blows of his gauntleted fist and a bellow of spiritual pain. It did not go unnoticed, word spread on the planet.

When the Rogue Trader told this silent Astartes the plan, he gave a nod and came aboard.

Psychological Profile:It's hard to say what Prodigal Son thinks, as he does not speak. But his actions are very clear -- he has the same controlled viciousness that made the Sons of Horus one of the most successful of the legions during the Great Crusade. In countless compliance actions, they struck mercilessly. The same applies here. It's his heritage to the bone, even if it is now a traitor's heritage.

Equipment:* Umbra-Pattern Boltgun. It has a hook and a tether line that allows it to stay attached and handy when he lets go of the grip. It also has a foregrip if he wishes to stabilize it. That is not Mechanicus-approved modification but he is beyond caring. It allows him to switch quickly over to his chainsword.
* Thunder Edge Pattern Chainsword, magnetized with a switch so Prodigal Son can release it from harness and bring it to bear moments after releasing his bolter.
* Armor that is truly the salvaged and repaired parts of other armor. It is, essentially, what will be known as Mk. V "Heresy Pattern" armor. Notably, the knuckles are spiked. The helmet is a modified Mk. IV, there are bits and pieces from other marks and field expedient. Plates are riveted on, repairs are visible. It is not parade-ready, but it can still fight.
* Grenades when he can get them.

[User]
Hephaistos burst out of his own crate, bottles of Amasec clinking and rolling heavily off as he stepped out, his steps careful to not even break them. He was pleased with the idea of sneaking into the Governer's palace like this, though not the idea of blowing their cover like this before they were even off the transport. He would have preferred them all actually being moved directly into the palace before they burst out and met the palace forces with even more shock and even less resistance between them and their target.

Then again, unless these pathetic forces had other Astartes with them (which all their information never indicated), there's little they could do to harm Hephaistos or his new brothers, save maybe heavy artillery.

The Thousand Son Sorcerer had his bolt pistol at the ready in his right hand, his ornately carved staff in his left hand, and his energy sword at his right side, hilted. His red with goldish brass trimmed armour and its old arcane litanies and wards scrawled upon vellum and wax seals adorning it gleamed as he walked into the light. He walked by Kraeger and Prodigal Son as they had opened up with their bolters and were doing a fine job carving up these men, surveying the carnage as he took cover by the edge of the ship ramp, his side exposed to shots, though those that could find their mark glanced off his armour. He made his minor annoyance known to his brothers as he surveyed the troops and their terrified reactions to all of the Astartes bursting from their various hiding places.

"I had hoped we'd have made it further inside before blowing our cover. Who knows what wonders I could have done by manipulating the minds of some of these weaklings? We may have taken the whole damn fortress in under half an hour and not even fired a shot ourselves."

[Assistant]
Five minutes to landing.

Four minutes to landing.

Three...

Two...

One!

Splinters of wood flew everywhere, phallic shaped objects launched equally far by the force of an Astartes exploding from a huge crate, 'supplies' apparently on there way to the Sisters of Silence - or so he had been told - bouncing from the metal walls of the hold and rolling ahead of the near ten-foot behemoth that followed in there wake. Causing the lowered ramp to shift beneath the weight of armour and superhuman alike, the black armoured warrior bought his weapon about to sweep from one side of the landing area to the other. It appeared that the Iron Warrior and the other more enigmatic Marine had already freed the space of most of its security, the treacherous Governor either so full of his own ego that he had relaxed his guard a little too much...or there was more, possibly even a trap further along the line.

Ignoring any stray fire that came his way, and blocking out the half-hearted attempt at humour from Perturabo's scion with his usual contempt, the Astartes known only as Ferreus watched as the witch took cover to better observe the death throes of what little resistance they had encountered. Some of the las-armed fools had began to drop their weapons, bolter shells taking them apart even as they made a hasty retreat, others standing their ground with gritted teeth and determination...but death came for them all the same.

Ferreus listened to the vox-chatter from the staff-wielding witch and inside his helmet narrowed his eyes, his mouth tightening and his teeth gritting, even as he opened his own vox and replied.

"You never cease to disgust me, scion of the Cyclops." He said with no attempt to restrain the venom that laced his words, "no doubt you would find anything better than a fair fight..." as if to emphasise his point he turned away lifted his bolter for a split second, not even bothering to take aim down the sights, and fired a singular bolt through the neck of one of the braver soldiers serving the Governor, jugular and throat-matter spraying everywhere as his neck seemed to simply disappear in a cloud of gore, "now cease your useless complaints and help, or remain where you are like a mewling infant."

With long steps he strode ahead of Prodigal Son and Kraeger, uncaring of incoming fire and dispatching any rebels with brutal efficiency in his quest for a greater challenge, though remaining at least within the perimeter of the landing area.

If there was a trap to be sprung, then he was going to find it.

[User]
Ragnvald was seething from being jammed into a container in full power armor. There was not enough room in the container and he had been forced to remain still for the better part of ten minutes while the transport touched down in the Governor's fortress. The Son of Russ burst from his prison without a second thought as the ramp lowered and fired up his jump pack to see that he had enough fuel for only three more jumps.

His new battle brothers had already started to open fire on the meager amount of guards which to the Space Wolf seemed like a waste of ammunition. He let out a bestial howl as he charged past the other Astarte shoving Ferreus out of the way as he activated his pack and leap high into the air. He landed with a crunch on top of a fleeing guard who was crushed under the weight of the eight foot tall monster who went to attack another near by guard. Ragnvald tore through the guards with ease with his pair of lightning claws as las fire bouncing off his armor scorching the wolf pelt that adorned his armor.

"That is enough talking now. If you don't hurry than there will be no glory left for the rest of you." Ragnvald told his brothers as he continued to cut down the remaining guards left near the transport.

[Assistant]
"FOR THE EMPEROR!"

Despite being confined within his crate, Uriah's voice rang out and echoed across the hold they were in as if he had been upon a dias in the center of the room. As soon as the proclamation left his lips, his crate was shattered into so much kindling, and a shining example of what it meant to be Astartes materialized from the wreckage. His bolter out, he fired three rounds into the nearest guards. One chest was popped like a melon and two heads were turned into blood and bone paste.

The crate would have been cramped for him even without him being clad within his shining power armor, but he took it without complaint or threat. He was truly honored to do his Emperor's work. He strode forward, having seen that in the scant seconds of his release, his brother marines had already taken care of almost everyone else in the room. It was to be expected. "Good job, brothers." he said, hefting his bolter and reloading while he had the chance too, simultaneously striding forward, his presence powerful and bright.

Normally he and his fellow Ultramarines were not used to working with their other brethren, but the fact that they were all here and not apart of the traitor legions indicated that they would give their lives for the cause that he himself held so highly. For that, they were his brothers without doubt or fear. He took it upon himself to catch up with Ferreus at the fore, stoic and vigilantly gazing around at new threats that would dare present themselves.


[System]
Age: 15
Appearance: Mimori stands at 5,3". She has a gently curvy, hourglass shape and is of slender build. Her eyes are light blue and she has slight curly brown hair to her waist (taking after her French mother). Her skin is pale and she has dimples in her cheeks when she smiles. Her facial features are a mix of Japanese and French, but she looks more French due to her coloring.
Bio/Personality: Mimori comes from a French mother and a Japanese father. Her father is a very wealthy investor, and deals a lot in property. As such, he is well-respected by the upper class and they are very comfortable in the upper levels of society. Mimori has been raised to be a lady amongst important persons, and is quite good at navigating social situations such as galas and formal dinners. She has encountered bullying due to being a 'hafu,' and so is always a little paranoid about whether or not people really like her – and is scared of losing her friends.
Mimori can come off as a little needy, but she is good-natured at heart. She likes to joke and laughs easily. She enjoys ballroom dancing, and so, will take any opportunity that she has to dance with a partner. She speaks fluent French and Japanese. She is a little timid and awkward around boys, which is why she has decided to attend the Host Club for a few sessions. She has only had one boyfriend - when she was 13, and he broke up with her after a week because, 'gamerbros before hoes.'

[User]
Tamaki lifted his shoulders up and down in a relaxed shrug. "I don't really mind, so long as they're happy," he smiled, raising his arm to twirl her before stepping in close again, his hand coming to her waist once more. "But I'll probably take a break halfway through." After all, he had to stay fresh for the final dance!

The dance lasted for a minute longer, before the orchestra slowed the music and cut it off. There was polite applause around the room, for both the orchestra and the dancers. Tamaki bowed to Ky, looking up at her with bright eyes. "I hope that you enjoyed dancing with me, my lady."

~~~

Mimori noticed once or twice, how Kaoru slipped away. It was the way in which his eyes sometimes looked over her head instead of at her. She knew that he was worrying about Hikaru; they usually stayed together all the time. And this was a partner dance, and Hikaru wasn't with him... Was that some annoyance radiating off some of the girls, that she was separating them for this dance? Kaoru and Hikaru were people - they didn't exist solely to fulfil the strange desires of some girls.

When the music came to a stop, she was looking back up at Kaoru again with a smile. That had been amazing, and her heart was pounding in her chest. "Thank you," she said, sliding her hand off his shoulder and taking back her other. "That was... It was amazing."

[Assistant]
(Ah okay cool - I'm a bit busy at the moment anyway!)

"That's very honourable," Ky responded after being twirled around, face slightly blushed from how close they were and the dancing itself.

She felt, surprisingly, slightly disappointed when the music ended. She had begun to enjoy herself - especially considering the fact the she wasn't tripping over herself. "I did, thank you, Tamaki," she respond with a somewhat awkward curtsy. She shuffled off to the side afterwards, quite sure that he would have many other girls to dance with. Perhaps she should go get food, or find Amaya...

~~~

Kaoru smiled down at Mimori when the music finished, seeming to have quite genuinely enjoyed the dance with her. It had been nice to dance with someone who wasn't Hikaru for once. Not that he disliked dancing with his twin.

"It was an honour, Mimori," Kaoru responded, taking a step back so he could bow politely. "I am glad you thought so. You really are a good dancer!" As he spoke he moved slightly to the side so that he was off of the dance floor. It didn't take long for Hikaru to appear, going to rest his elbow on his brother's shoulder. He didn't seem like he had had as good a time.

[User]
Tamaki rose, just smiling at her as she walked away. After all of that fuss she'd made, Ky had still enjoyed it in the end. And he was very glad. However, he could not dwell on her for too long; there were many guests awaiting him. He couldn't be so rude as to ignore them.

The blond proceeded to take another guest on his arm, but couldn't help glancing at Ky one last time before the next dance.

~~~

Mimori dipped her head, red-faced from a mixture of excitement and embarrassment from being so close to the boy she now knew was her crush. It wasn't good, she knew it. Kaoru was a Host and close to his twin and... Her heart was going to suffer for it. She knew that.

She curtsied back to him, stepping to the side as well. Hikaru was here already. That had been quick. He certainly hadn't taken the samw time that Kaoru had with her. She smiled to them, before turning back toward the crowd. "Have fun," she said. There were a good couple of girls looking at the two excitedly.

)

[Assistant]
Ky ended up finding some food, and eventually Amaya. She spent quite a bit of the ball with her friend, though the other girl was dragged off to dance a few times. Ky politely turned down any others who asked her to dance - she wasn't particularly interested at the moment. She would just watch for the moment.

She ended up talking to a few other ladies, though she found it difficult to relax talking to people she barely knew. It was so difficult to keep her language appropriate... But she just about managed. Even as she talked to others she kept on glancing towards the dance floor to see if she could see Tamaki.

She got more tired, and reclusive as the night went on, heading out of the main hall nearer the end to find somewhere quieter. She just needed a moment to think really. She didn't always do well when socialising for long periods of time.

~~~

"I will make sure to, you also enjoy yourself," Kaoru smiled at Mimori before he was dragged off by Hikaru. The two spent the rest of the night together, whether it was dancing or talking to other ladies. Many of their fans liked to see them together.

Still Kaoru found he wanted to spend more time with Mimori. He wanted Hikaru to be there as well, of course, because it would be nice for both of them to make a friend that wasn't each other. Unfortunately he didn't have much of a chance with having to fulfil his host duties. It was a shame.

[User]
Tamaki, meanwhile, had danced the night away with many a girl on his arm. There had been waltzes, as well as faster dances and one particularly sensuous samba. It was quite appropriate that he'd made sure that every Host knew at least five different types of dances when they'd joined. One could not be a gentleman by skipping a dance with a lady!

However, all gentlemen were human and eventually he had to admit defeat and fatigue. He kissed the hand of the lady he'd just danced with, before turning away and into the crowds. He patted at his forehead with his handkerchief, cheeks reddened from exertion. The room was hot and crowded, and the blond was glad to step out into a cool hallway. Phew. Three more dances, and then the final dance. He'd rest until then. Maybe, if he could...

Oh. Speak of the devil. Tamaki grinned, raising a hand to wave at his first dance partner who was also taking a break in the hallway. "Hey!" he greeted her, stepping forward. "Having a good time?"

~~~

Mimori had made sure that she wasn't bored for the rest of the evening. She stood with one of her friends - the one who sometimes came with her to the Host Club. They chatted and laughed, sometimes looking out at the twins. To be honest, she felt a little twinge of jealousy when she saw Hikaru and Kaoru so close together. If she could be that close to Kaoru...

Then, a boy asked her to dance. She joined him. Another after that, and another. She enjoyed herself, thinking logically that she must find someone else that wasn't a Host, or attached to someone else. And although they were good dancers, something was missing from them. Eventually she came back to her friend, smiling but still not feeling quite the same as the first dance. The night was starting to draw to a close now. Soon they'd be heading home.

[Assistant]
Ky had been resting slightly against a wall, just staring forward and trying to relax a bit. Part of her just wanted to go home now and sleep. She was, quite frankly, exhausted and had to get up early the next day to meet with the friends she was meant to meet tonight. Of course she didn't feel that she could leave early. That would be rude of her.

It took her a moment to notice another presence, turning her head to look at Tamaki and smiling slightly. She was relieved when she saw who it was. She wasn't sure what she would have done if it had been Amaya.

"Hello," she responded, turning to face him. "Yes, I am, I'm just taking a slight break from... people. I assume you are also?"

~~~

The twins were taking a break from dancing, as most of the host members were, for the ones leading up to the final dance. They were both a bit breathless from all the dancing but had certainly enjoyed it.

After looking around the various heads Kaoru ended up subtly moving towards where he saw Mimori, eventually managing to reach her with Hikaru in tow. He smiled at her in greeting.

"How has your evening been? I hope you dancing some more," he smiled, Hikaru raising an eyebrow at his twin upon realising where he had been dragged. He wasn't sure what Kaoru's motivations were for talking to Mimori... And he wasn't sure what to think about it.

[User]
Tamaki was thrilled to hear her affirmation. So long as his guest was happy, he was happy. In some ways, he was a rather selfless person. He leaned against the wall, giving his head a small shake at her question. It seemed that she was an introvert, if she couldn't take a lot of people for a long time. Meanwhile, he was just about the definition of an extrovert.

"Nah. I'm just a little tired," he admitted, patting his forehead again with his handkerchief. Blowing up his cheeks, he then let the air whistle through his teeth. Phew. "Dancing is hard work, y'know?" The blond laughed at himself, straightening his posture. "But I'll be going back in for the last dance, and then it'll be over until the next one. I'm not sure who I'll be taking for my last dance..." His violet-blue eyes slid sideways at her, a small smile tilting the corners of his mouth.

~~~

There was a small thrill in Mimori's chest as she heard the voice she'd been secretly waiting for. Twirling around, she was admittedly quite pleased to see Kaoru - but still with Hikaru, who looked a little unsure. She hoped she wasn't getting on his nerves too much. Anyway. She pulled her hair through her fingers slightly nervously, nodding with a smile.

"A couple of boys asked me," she admitted. "I've enjoyed it so much, although the best dance was the first with you." It took a second for her to realize what she'd admitted, and she cleared her throat, blushing a little. She was already a bit flushed from all the dancing. "You two seem to really enjoy dancing with eachother."

[Assistant]
"I can imagine that it is quite exhausting to have been dancing all night," Ky responded, sounding slightly sarcastic. Of course it probably was, but when she had been really into sports she had done far more exhausting things over longer periods of time. But then again that was hardly a standard she could hold everyone to.

"Well hopefully you will find someone... appropriate for the last dance," she spoke in a neutral tone, raising an eyebrow as he looked at her when he spoke. Part of her would love to dance the last dance with him but they had had the first dance so she was sure there were many more appropriate ladies for that. "I'm sure you will have plenty of choice."

~~~

"Kaoru is quite good at dancing, so of course it was," Hikaru put in, peering over at her from behind his twin. He seemed to be trying to remain neutral. He wasn't going to stomp on whatever plans his brother had. "And we enjoy all time spent together."

"No need to boast so much about me, Hikaru," Kaoru laughed. "I am glad you enjoyed the first dance so much, I enjoyed it also. And yes, Hikaru and I have always enjoyed dancing together. We learned together, you know, because we refused to dance with anyone else." He smiled at the memories. "So will you be finding a partner for the last dance? I'm afraid I will have to dance with Hikaru, otherwise I would offer." Of course he did want to dance with his brother and Hikaru wouldn't allow him to dance with anyone else for the last one.


[System]
Human Form

Beast Form
Physical Description:
Human:
A tall, athletic man who spends most of his time under robes, making it hard to get a good look at him. Those who do manage more than a peak would note he's strangely handsome and chiseled in appearance, but that his smile feels 'off' and disturbing somehow, particularly as it never seems to reach his eyes. He is estimated to be 6'1" and roughly 170 lbs. Under his hood, he has rust brown hair and brown eyes with a hint of either orange or red around the rim of the irises.
Monster:
In beast form, Jabberwocky is a monstrous draconic being with long, sharp claws, cruel fangs, and a burning wrath in his fire-orange eyes.
His face is almost piscine, like some primordial beast from the depths, but the rest of him is evocative of the tales of dragons. He is 65' from tip of the tail to his muzzle, is about 9' at the shoulder, and has a wingspan of 63'. His weight is unknown, but estimated to be 10 tonnes.

Class: Lieutenant (Lt.) of Draygon

Abilities:
Human Form:
While being in human form limits the range of his abilities, he nonetheless possesses a considerable array of skills and abilities that make him a formidable opponent:
* Hand to Hand Combat: Even in human form, he is a dangerous and accomplished adversary, not needing to switch to his more powerful form to dispatch most of his foolish opponents. He is equally skilled in barehanded combat and swordsmanship, and is incredibly strong and tough for a human. Approach with caution at all times.
* Assassin's skills: Sometimes you need to kill a foe before he even realizes you're there. Jabberwocky is surprisingly light on his feet, and can use his dagger to silence foes in the shadows.
* Healing: While the art of healing is not as gratifying as the ability to crush your foes and drink in their laments, Jabberwocky nonetheless has learned some respect for it. After all, one might need to patch oneself up after a nasty fight with a surprisingly tenacious enemy.
* Fire breathing: Jabberwocky can shoot forth gouts of white hot flames from his mighty jaws, capable of liqufying steel in seconds.
* Phasing: Jabberwocky can use his magic to phase through walls, allowing him to infiltrate fortresses and sanctums with impunity, and making him even more dangerous as an assassin. However, there are limits to this ability, as he cannot simply phase through a mountain or go deep underground lest he get trapped and suffocate.
* Transformation: As with all of Draygon's Lieutenants, he can transform into his Beast Form, becoming an even more formidable foe.

Beast Form:
* Flight: Those wings of his aren't for show. They allow him to fly great distances and with considerable speed.
* Immense Strength: While he is very strong in human form, he is nothing short of monstrously strong in dragon form, capable of grabbing and tossing humans and animals with minimal effort, as though they were toys.
* Razor-sharp claws and teeth: With razor-sharp teeth and claws, Jabberwocky can rend and tear humans to shreds, and can even create great gashes in stone and rock.

Equipment:
* Assassin dagger, poisoned blade.
* Alchemist's kit for poisons and chemical study
* A tome of notes and secrets.

RP Notes: (To be filled in.)

Jabberwocky
BY LEWIS CARROLL

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
 Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
 And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
 The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
 The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand;
 Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree
 And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
 The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
 And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
 The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
 He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
 Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
 He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
 Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
 And the mome raths outgrabe.

Source: The Random House Book of Poetry for Children (1983)

[User] Jabberwocky flies back to his hidden lair, bringing food for his daughter. He lands outside, and turns into his human form, carrying the food inside. "Ruby! Dadda's home!" He sets the food to one side, and hugs his adopted daughter. "Were you a good girl while Dadda was away?" He kisses her cheek, and starts combing her hair. "Did you understand anything of what the crystal said?"

[Assistant]
The Cave of Kensu's Island

|  |
  Before the Apocalypse Gerty worked as a librarian. She didn't know much about the world of tech that had developed, she was a bookworm, more interested in old literature and the fables of heroes. She would spend her afternoons researching the myths and legends of the ancient world, seeing how they fit into Joseph Campbell's Hero with a Thousand Faces characterizations, it was a hobby.

 When the world came to an end Gerty was bringing dinner to her mother who was working in the laboratories. Her mother had been researching how to particulate the human imagination. Imaginarium it was called, and it was the new and exciting trend in home entertainment; her mother had taken to working late and spending nights at the labs, they had no idea what was about to happen.

 The blizzards came first and the adults shut themselves into the facility, at the time there were 28 scientists and little Gerty; they didn't have time to run out of food. The ground moved underneath them, the entire surface of the planet began to change under Harbinger's power. While the Laboratory froze and the scientists began to die from the exposure, Magma began to seep through the cracks in the floors. It was an impossible and unnatural perversion of nature's forces.

 Gerty's mother pushed her into the safest part of the lab, the temperature controlled room that held the Imaginarium. There Gerty was safe, for a time. The room shook and the lights went out and the world was filled with screams and crashes, Gerty was terrified. The Imaginarium containers broke open and Gerty was swept away into the world of her own dreams and hallucinations, which in the circumstances became nightmares of monsters and demons. Then Harbinger released the Atomic Payloads and began to rearrange the molecular structure of the life forms of the planet... Gerty died in one form, and was reborn in another. Gerty... became  |
| --- | --- |

 Urgrapth nestled into her web, secure, safe. Her babies surrounded her, tinkling and moving throughout the web, doing the insectoid things that spider creatures would do. Urgrapth waited, expecting her children to bring back the intruder. The smoke should have made it fall, and her children should have brought it quick, but there had been too much time. Urgrapth waited... impatiently.

 At a nod, she sent five more of her children to help fetch, two more than before, if the others were hurt then more would be needed. Her babies, they should not be hurt, they need to be safe. Urgrapth nervously began to pace around her web. She grabbed one of the villagers, a young one that smelled like flowers, and prepared it for food. If she had to go to fight the visitor herself she'll need food, but she will wait for her children to report back first.
*******
 SETTING:

 Kensu sat at the mouth of the sealed cave smoking his pipe and lost, deep in thought. He knew that somewhere in the caves, hidden behind walls and in secret caverns rarely seen by any eyes, is a sword mounted into stone. It has no scabbard, no lace, but it did have the power to harness the dramatic and fearful power of the Storm. The mysteries of his religion taught that the Oracles were made to speak to the swords and feel their call, and hopefully this pink haired girl would be drawn to the weapon soon.

 Kensu wasn't certain, but he feared that the disappearance of the villagers had something to do with this mountain. A week or so before he had peeled open some strange, metal door and inside was this pulsating black mass. Hesitantly he watched the mass pulsate faster and faster, then little spindly creatures began to leak from the sides of the mass. Disgusted, Kensu backed away and shut the door. Normally the animals and creatures of the island were of the nature to leave people alone, but maybe, maybe this one was different. The people of his island, his people were all gone, but there were no signs of violence; and the cave was not shut, but Pip was with the girl.

 So much had changed, so much, and so fast. Kensu smoked his pipe and watched the cave, it took much of his will power not to show his terror.

There are 5 more spider monsters coming after you, Urgrapth has prepared a snack in case she needs to fight you herself. Kensu is worried he's responsible for waking up the spider monster, and you feel the call of the sword:

[User]
Dragon Jabberwocky's hideout

Ruby hugged Jabber back, accepted the food and ate graciously, "Not yet Dadda," she said between bites, "it's all clicks and strange noises. I need to talk to the fairy again, but I'm not sure how," she chewed, "she said something about my 'biogenic energy' giving her enough strength to talk to me, but I don't know what that is or how to make it work."

[Assistant] He sighs, and glances at the crystal necklace around her neck. It glimmers softly in the light. He smiles, and kisses her head gently. "We'll figure it out baby girl. Have you tried those meditation cards I got you?" He gently hands her a engraved plate with some simple steps to guided meditation. "Don't worry, we'll figure it out someday. How was your day today?" He smiles, gently brushing her hair.


[System]
Criminal?: yes
Convicted for: Attempted hijacking, piracy
Species: Oko
Gender: N/A
Sexual orientation: N/A
Age: 44, perhaps 15 years younger by human standards

Appearance: See species description below. Suno keeps his fur/feathers/plumage short and well-trimmed; in a few spots, it has stopped growing due to scars and injuries. He (I'll just use the technical grammatical default, especially considering that, as a male, I'll probably subconsciously add my own outlook) tends to cover all of that up in his clothing.

He walks around — he prefers bipedalism to show off what little height he has — with a certain air of confidence and optimism that perhaps isn't deserved in someone who has been handed a near-certain death sentence. Even if there's no way he could, he seems to understand whatever situation he finds himself in and always be thinking about something just a little removed. To some he looks, based on appearance alone, a little pompous.

Height: 126 cm (50 in)
Weight: 34 kg (75 lb)

Apparel: Outside of missions, Suno tends to wear one of a few sets of grey and black undergarments and rotates three very plain one-piece jumpsuits which only differ in color: one charcoal, one navy, and one khaki. They all have a simple strip along where buttons would be which somehow fastens the two flaps on the front of the jacket together. The neckline is a mandarin collar, though Suno usually folds the edge down on the overlapping lapel down. Combined with the small tears and places which have been mended, this makes him appear casually but professionally dressed. The fabric is very well-tailored, but the freedom of movement he enjoys leads one to think there is some sort of elasticity in the joints, if not elsewhere.

To accessorize, he wears a black belt in almost all circumstances on which he mounts his knife sheath, ammunition cartridges, and some rudimentary first aid supplies. He wears a silver banded necklace flush with his neck which is a communications relay from his eye to his surroundings. He has gloves for all of his hands made from a tough black material somewhere between animal hide and plastic in texture. They fit his hands just as perfectly as his jumpsuits fit his body.

On missions, he wears a lightly-armored and air-tight flight suit capable, with an accompanying backpack unit, of keeping Suno alive in a vacuum for about five days. It can take some light-arms fire but nothing more and nothing sustained. In lieu of a visor, the helmet has four small cameras (two at mouth level and two at eye-level, for redundancy) which feed directly to his cybernetic eye. They are sensitive to a wide range of wavelengths, from mid-infrared to low ultraviolet. Most of the suit's surfaces are matte black to for camouflage in open space.

Weapons: Although Suno attempts to keep out of hand-to-hand combat, he still stays prepared for it, and carries a small (though in proportion average-sized) laser pistol with 15-shot replaceable energy cells. He keeps a few spares on his belt and the holster on his left side under his arm (in civilian clothing, under his jacket). He also carries a 13 cm (5") knife on his left hip.

As his primary combat experience being boarding and he's not anything more than a pretty good shot, he relies largely on grenades for combat. Fragmentation grenades would be too dangerous in space, so he carries three grenades of smoke (capable of blocking out visible and high-frequency infrared light), hallucinogenic (strictly depressants, though), and aerosol anaesthetic (fentanyl for humans; for other species he has to do some research) varieties. Normally he has one of each. The latter two are potentially lethal, so he carries antidotes in syringes just in case.

Equipment: Suno's left eye is cybernetic, a remnant of his glory days, which uses standard 2^2^6 bit encryption channels to connect to standard equipment such as weapons and ships. It gives him a heads-up display of fuel, ammunition, and such. His right ear also has a communications implant. Both of which communicate with his necklace, which has a much longer range and faster connection with his surroundings.

Personal starfighter: (I'll think of a name later):

The craft is one chosen with Suno's purposes in mind: all he really ever had to do was pose a valid threat and outmaneuver static defenses, so the ship sacrifices armor for speed and maneuverability. Its weight is kept in check by only having enough armor to stop a small ship-mounted laser weapon; anything else could punch a hole right through. Its defenses hinge upon its AI being able to detect attacks and turn so a more favorable surface (or none at all) takes the blow. To facilitate this, small jets are mounted on various surfaces of the craft and can be activated by the pilot or onboard computer precisely and quickly. The main thrusters have some oomph, too. The craft has one forward-mounted laser cannon on the nose and a twin energy rifle turret mounted below that.

Skills: He is a reasonably good pilot and shot with his pistol; however, he is by no means an expert.

Weaknesses: His size and lack of any real training make him pretty hopeless in open close combat.

Powers: None

Personality: Suno is someone who knows there's a good side and a bad side to everyone and everything. Despite that, he manages to be pretty optimistic, some of may be due to a bit of self-involvement. He's pretty good with others: once he sees an initial sign of friendliness, he's more than willing to start a conversation. Actual trust requires more work with him.

Biography: Suno should have had a better shot at the kind of life most of his species enjoys.

Anu-V, where he was born, was the remnant of what could have been a thriving colony, had the parastatal that first built it not ceded the system to an aggressor for a bit of wealth and spare time. The aggressor hadn't done much with it, either. They pulled a few megatonnes of water and minerals out of the system and moved their fleet on to threaten other systems.

And so all that was left was a barren colony on a half-terraformed planet scarred by resource extraction, a few hundred thousand inhabitants, and a handful of ships capable of interstellar flight. Oko ships would pass through every few years on their way to markets worth stopping at. They were built of sculpted metal, polymers, and diaphanous carbon crystals: reminders of the wealth of their race and how easily they'd been sold away for peace of mind.

Suno grew up surrounded by that resentment. He knew he was wronged and he knew what he deserved. He grew up without ever missing the chance to see one of those Oko merchant ships, always dreaming of being one of those aboard. He longed for wealth, education, long life, escape — all that he thought he should have had. The only was he saw to get it was certainly extralegal, but that was the path he chose. If someone wronged him, why couldn't he wrong others?

Within twenty years, he was near the top of a piracy organization that had made itself known in four systems: they would jump in, find a target, subdue what were normally entirely insufficient security systems and personnel, hijack ships, sell off stolen materials, and ransom the crews from the relative safety of their base in the Anu system. He was wealthy enough to get all that he had been wanting: he had good doctors, equipment better than he had ever seen as a child, leisure time to read and become the kind of snob he'd always claimed to hate but secretly envied.

Life life worked like clockwork until, one day, it didn't, and Suno and his compatriots ended up in a cell on an E.S.A. cruiser. When a man in a suit with a strange proposal came along, freedom sounded like a pretty good option.

[User]
"Happy to hear that, Rose. Ms. DuPont, please get us a safe distance away from the station and planet then initiate the hyperspace jump." Lex said from his seat as he tapped in something to the monitor attached to his captain's chair in the bridge.

"Jump initiating." Eve pitched in.

"Are you really comfortable with doing that with me? I am a convicted criminal after all, though only smuggling, I didn't blow up a planet or anything, still," Lex said to Ro'Essel as he popped out of his chair, looking her in the eyes for a moment. "If you think it will help with the mission or something and you're really okay with it, then I guess we could do it." He said before moving towards the seated pilot and co - pilot. He was about to speak when the whole ship shook, and he was tossed to the floor, sliding into the wall with a bang.

"What the hell was that? Status report." Lex asked, his voice raised from its usual suave tone. He popped back to his feet, slowly, the ship no longer shaking. He looked out the ship's large front window as the hyperspace jump had began.

"The space station above Minerva is gone, sir." Eve quipped, appearing as a blue orb hologram floating above a console near the pilot seats.

"What do you mean gone? A space station doesn't just disappear." Lex said back to the A.I. as the window itself displayed a shot of Minerva and the space station, or where it used to be.

"As you can see, all that is left is debris. If I had to guess I would say it was a bomb, an advanced, massive one at that. There was no sign of any vessels launching at the station, so the logical conclusion is an explosive that was already planted. Curious that it detonated right after we departed." Eve said, the hologram of her spinning in the middle.

"Is everyone alright? It appears the space station went up in a massive explosion, unfortunately we cannot depart the jump mid flight as that could risk the ship greatly. Still, we should discuss this as well as the mission itself." Lex said into the monitor at his seat, the intercom booming his voice throughout the ship.

"Please assemble in the conference room just past the medical laboratory." He added, then moved away from the seat.

"We'll discuss the telepathic link telepathic link afterwards." He said to Ro'Essel, then departed the bridge. A short time later he arrived in the conference room, taking his seat at the head of the table, a serious expression on his face as he waited for his crew to file in.

[Assistant]
"Yes Captain." Amelia said, looking across at Rose just as he made an appropriate quip and announced that he had prepped the ship for its maiden flight; it was game time. A green light pinged into existence on a steering pad in front of both pilots which indicated they could be used. Amelia gripped hers gleefully, making a few final adjustments to the ship's default take off pattern with one hand. "Oh i'm doing just fine." she purred as she put her fingerprint onto the scanner, firing up the engines.

Rolls Royce Tamerlane spacecraft engines had the kind of reverberating boom which shook the inside of your abdomen and rattled your clenched teeth. It was as if Poseidon himself had awoken, shook off the rocks and shipwrecks which accumulate around him and begun swimming to the surface. Despite state of the art shock absorbers, the bridge shook violently for a few seconds as the Vigilance grew accustomed to having power of such epic proportions tacked onto it. She fired auxiliaries before commanding that the docking clamps be unlocked; a moment later she saw on her read out that they had been disengaged, not that she could hear over the boom of the engines. The Vigilance was now floating by itself inside the hangar.

Amelia snuck a look at Rose, he was ready to back her up. Ever so slowly, she pushed forward on her steering pad. The Vigilance responded immediately, edging toward the hangar doors as they now opened for them. The subtle change in engine sound coupled with a deep vibration through her seat made Amelia emit something between an excited giggle and a moan. "Don't tease me." she whispered, pushing the Vigilance out of the Roosevelt and into the vast ocean of space. The noise died down significantly once they were into a vacuum. The captain had ordered she put a safe distance between them and the station before initiating the jump so took the opportunity to put the Vigilance through its paces. Using a holographic display Amelia began increasing the speed but barely started before there was a colossal bang and she felt Lex impact the back of her chair before sliding across the floor.

Acting on instinct, Amelia initiated the hyper jump that Rose and Eve had assembled. The stars in the front visor became a white smear. The screen became one of what was left of the space station. "Ouchie." Amelia purred. The captain was speaking but she wasn't really listening. They had been five seconds away from suffering damage to their aft section. She looked at Rose. She hadn't been expecting a baptism by fire this early into their maiden flight. She busied herself by making sure the jump was locked in and calculating an estimated time for when auto-pilot would be disabled when they exited hyperspace. It displayed on a big read out between the two pilots. Two hours and seven minutes. Time for a quick meeting. Amelia released control of her steering pad and got up. Rose was still sat.

"Coming?"


[System]
Death Korp Trooper Number:
Trooper 17431

Appearance:

Height:
5'6"

Age:
27

Sex:
Male

Class:
Death Korp Grenadier

Equipment:
- Type XIV Lasgun (Heavy) -
Also known as a Hellgun or, more rarely, a Hotshot lasgun, the Type XIV (Heavy) is the standard issue weapon for all Grenadiers serving in Death Korp regiments. They are, at least by the Grenadiers themselves, intensely disliked due to perceived unreliability in the field during extended operations and a Krieger's general preference for the default Type XIV Lasgun (More commonly known outside of Krieg as the Lucian Pattern Lasgun). However, with the proper maintence that each Grenadier performs routinely, the weapon performs its intended role as a high power Lasgun, capable of punching through heavier armor and providing, on full auto, a withering rate of fire. The Type XIV (Heavy) utilizes a backpack unit to power it, and a Quick Recharge Generator included in the backpack unit is generally overtaxed, due to the design of the weapon and its power output. Ansgar, like many Grenadiers, would have preferred a Type XIV Lasgun over the Heavy variant, but as a Grenadier, he is required to carry it.

- Grenadier Carapace Armor -
Intended for deployment where the fighting is fiercest, Death Korps Grenadiers are equipped with heavy Carapace Armour that has been integrated into the standard Krieg kit. This comprises the Mark IX helmet, a rebreather facemask, three-piece shoulder guards, a chest plate with additional abdomen plates and shin and knee guards. All are made of Plasteel and reinforced with a layer of Ceramite for additional strength, heat resistance and weight reduction. The armor, coupled with uniform and Type XIV Lasgun (Heavy) makes a very heavy loadout, adding in the miscellaneous equipment they carry as well, however, the protection is vastly appreciated by the Grenadiers in general, due to their role as the leading edge in storming trenches and hostile emplacements, needing the protection to get close enough to do their jobs, not so much concerned with survival.

- Explosives -
As his former squads Demolitions expert, Ansgar carried the standard explosives load out alongside extra tools, for when the Engineers could not keep up with the assault but were preoccupied elsewhere. Besides several Frag and Krak grenades, Ansgar also has several demolition charges, rated for taking out hardened bunkers when put in place. Ansgar modified the charges so that, in a hurry, he can pull a detonation cable and heave the charge at a target, the normally delicate and precise procedure for arming the charges ditched in favor of emergency target removal. And, as a Krieg Engineer before he was assigned as a Grenadier, he has learned to build improvised explosives that served him well in the trenches when supplies on conventional explosives were running short, as well as utilize Chemical weapons safely.

- Melee Gear -
Ansgar carries two weapons for melee combat, one obligatory and the other actually used. The obligatory is his bayonet, which the Type XIV Lasgun (Heavy) lacks a mount for, another reason it remains unpopular among Grenadiers, and typically serves as much as a tool and last resort weapon than anything else. His actual go to is a Entrenching Tool, edges sharpened to allow him to carve through hostiles as well as bludgeon them, and retain the intended purpose of digging trenches and other necessary fighting positions.

Notable Deeds:
- Tyranid Assault on Thresis IV -
Raised from birth to be a Death Korp Engineer, Ansgar Staudinger, or known by his Trooper designation 17431, will never state when he was sent to war, something that tends to bother people who ask that are outsiders to Krieg and their necessary methods of providing the Imperium the soldiers it needs. Assigned fresh to an Engineering Platoon, Ansgar would spend a great deal of time digging trenches and laying mines in the defense of a Shrine World, Thresis IV, directly in the path of a Tyranid Hive Fleet Splinter. The Tyranids, despite being vastly reduced in numbers compared to a true Hive Fleet, descended like mad locusts, slaughtering over 90% of the Death Korp forces deployed on the planet. Of that 10%, Ansgar Staudinger was one of the survivors, the only from his platoon, found near death after turning an entire trench line into a raging biochemical inferno, equal parts fire and chemical weapon that was effective on the Tyranids. Sharing the compound make up with other Death Korp Engineers, the biochemical fire was used to great extent to halt and drive back the Tyranids, making the then rookie Staudinger's trial by fire a literal, and resounding, success.

- Nightmares Beneath Thrasis II -
As part of the Thrasis campaign his regiment was assigned to, and the arrival of Tyranid complicating greatly, Ansgar Staudinger was deployed with a fresh Engineering platoon to assist in the breaking of a siege on Chaos held factories on the system's forge world, Thrasis II. Utilizing conventional tunneling and, when they detected they were almost at the entry point, Hades Breaching Drill, to punch into the Chaos held Foundry, Ansgar and his fellow Guardsmen stumbled into something straight out of the most feverish of a heretic's nightmares. The Warp had bled over into the belly of the foundry, with daemons and mutants in equal measures assaulting the woefully unprepared Krieg Guardsmen. However, they had a job to do, and they were able to hold their ground, keeping a secure tunnel long enough for support to arrive and push deep enough into the Chaos corrupted foundry, to the dark heart and plant enough explosives for the resulting explosion spotted from orbit. Whether it was the sheer amount of explosives put in place, or partially due to Chaos corruption was never decided. However, as one of the only survivors again by virtue of Luck or being Blessed, Ansgar was reassigned by a surviving Commissar to the Death Korp Grenadiers.

- Hellscape of Thrasis I -
Nearing the end of the Thrasis System Campaign, Ansgar found himself a freshly minted Grenadier, no longer an Engineer although he often worked closely with them during breaching actions against enemy defensive lines. However, upon touching down on Thrasis I, the Kriegers found something unlike anything anyone could be prepared for. The Foundry was merely a foretaste of what was to come, as planet spanning rituals had allowed the Warp to taint and corrupt great stretches of the planet, forcing Guard forces to struggle through conventional defenses one day, and make a mad dash through Daemon infested hellscapes that should not be the next. What Ansgar refuses to mention to a soul, due to an oath he was put under at the end of the conflict, was the arrival of Grey Knights, of the Emperor's most holy Ordos Malleus. Alongside Adeptus Sororitas support, which Ansgar learned to have a deep, healthy respect for, the combined arms forces stormed the capital of Thrasis I, a den of pure evil and corruption that made the rest of the planet look like a Shrine World in comparison. Once again, whether by luck or the Emperor's own intervention, Ansgar found himself as one of the only Grenadiers, and Krieger's period, to survive the assaults into the city, arriving at the Hall of Governing as it had been christened during Thrasis I's founding as a colony, only to find horrors so unspeakable even the Krieg born Grenadier refuses to speak of them now. But, between the Grey Knights and Sisters of Battle alongside his own humble contributions at that point, which mostly consisted of survival, Ansgar lived to see the end of the hellish campaign on Thrasis I. With literally no regiment to return to, and having become aware of the most secretive of Space Marine chapters, it was decided to induct him into the Inquisition, sending him to serve where needed most.

[User]
Why?! Why was there never enough time for blood-shedding? It would have been easy enough to blame Aviza and her somewhat stiff orders, as well as her (Nergüi personally felt) under usage of his talents, but what would have been the point in that?

Instead he listened to her squad-wide order, mag-locked his bolter to his hip, and prepared to enjoy himself; if he couldn't go outside the APC and annihilate the Emperor's foes, then by the Throne he was going to make do with what he could and revel in it - outside of the Orkoid Speed Freeks, some Hellion groups of the Drukhari and possibly an unknown Guard group, the Scars where the greatest lovers of speed in the galaxy.

"If everyone's in let's get out!"

Without waiting for any sort of command he gunned the throttle, pressing his foot flat into the acceleration pedal, and giving a nomadic whoop inside his helmet as the vehicle first lurched forward and then lunged forward; the front of the Rhino hammered straight into the Chimera, the enemy that had set about dismantling it soon screaming as they were crushed under track or flung away from the wreck.

"Direct me, Sister, and we shall make it." Came a blurt of bass-toned speech from the Deathwatch marine, even as he reversed and sped the transport into the Chimera again, the empty vehicle grinding forward to hammer a hole into the lighter and more destructible civilian automobiles.

They would get through alright, but where then would they go?

[Assistant]
Once they had pushed through the wall of civilian vehicles, three separate tunnels lay in front of them. Aviza's HUD quickly informed her that the fastest way to the surface was the right tunnel, but she was also informed that sensors were picking up strange signals and warp energies that were coming from the left tunnel, which lead under a large part of the city. They could fallback and regroup with the Imperial Guardsmen at their headquarters or they could further investigate the Chaos forces in the city. The choice was made and Aviza informed Nergüi to take the left tunnel. "Head through the left tunnel, White Scar, we will put an end to this Chaos invasion or be by the Emperors side before the day is over." As far as Aviza was concerned they would stop the Chaos forces in their tracks before the city was completely overtaken or they would die trying.

Heading directly into the heart of the Chaos invasion would have been seen as suicide by many others, but Aviza saw it as a worthy challenge and as the path they were meant to take. Adrianne would undoubtedly be the first one to notice the warp energies coming from the tunnel, they would grow in strength as they traveled deeper. Taking the turret gunners seat once more, Aviza prepped the weapon to idle so that she could fire them as soon as any hostile came into view. "Everyone take positions and get ready to fire at anything that moves in your line of sight. We may have to unload the vehicle at one point and travel on foot, but untill then I want all of you to use the Rhino to your full advantage." Aviza manipulated the turret to do a couple full three hundred and sixty rotations to ensure it was still fully working. It came to stop point forward into the pitch black tunnel ahead of them, from now on, the only way they would be able to see if with their enhanced vision equipment.