[System]
"But I mean if you want to, I guess!"

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Nickname:
CJ is the nickname his friends gave him and it stuck.

Date of Birth:
September 21, 1993

Age:
23

Gender:
Male

Sexuality:
Bisexual

Relationship Status:
Complicated

Sexually Active:
Yes

Occupation:
Crisis Management Secretary by Day, Adult Film Star by Night

Hometown:
Atlanta, Georgia

Ethnicity:
Mixed - Puerto Rican/African-American

In Depth Appearance:
Cj takes very good care of his appearance. His hair is often times well manicured, and his eyebrows are always arched in a masculine way. He is always seen wearing a different colored tank top with a pair of jeans or sweatpants. He loves wearing sneakers and has a vast collection of them. His skin is a beautiful caramel tone, and his teeth always pass the white tissue test. He has curly hair that he has dyed a light blonde on the tips. He will wear a hat every now and then and tends to change his hair color once a month or once every two months. His body is well toned from exercise. It's more of a swimmer's build. He doesn't have a lot of hair on his body, but will grow out his facial hair which adds to his attractiveness. He's in no way perfect, he has scars from the bashing on his back where the kicks landed, and there is a very feint scar on his chin. He has a tattoo of a heart with wings and the name of his grandfather Matthew scribed in cursive within the heart on his right shoulder blade. He also has a koi fish on the inner part of his thigh extremely close to his groin. If he wears a speedo you'd be able to see it. He has two stars along the "v" cut towards the bottom point, right above his manhood.

Hobbies:
Aside from singing, dancing, and posting videos on Youtube, Caleb enjoys hiking and writing short stories in his free time. He loves to travel but rarely gets the chance to leisurely travel, as most of his traveling is for work purposes. He likes to garden as well, and cooking is one of his main hobbies. Ask him to make a dish and he'll give you something you'll never forget.

Magical Affinity:
Believe it or not Caleb has known about the world of magic since he was ten years old. He witnessed magic by accident, but he was too young to really delve into it. It was when he was a junior in high school that he was approached by a recruiter for BlackBrick. The things they told him only validated parts of his life that he questioned. He found a mentor, the Headmaster of BlackBrick Academy. The man instructed him, taught him with his parent's approval and kept him safe, even though Caleb was allowed to live his life he was warned that magic must be kept a secret. After graduating, he went on to become an adult film star, well known in the LGBTQ Adult Film Community. While pursuing his work, he also attended BlackBrick Academy, balancing a secret life of magic. He is experienced in battle magic and delves into healing. Battle Magic is touchy and is restricted in the Academy, but Caleb learns quickly and reads a lot.

Habits:
He does tend to go overboard with drinking when he is at parties. He has a habit of biting his bottom lip when he is nervous. It is rather sexual if one observes it, but to him, it's not.

Likes:
He likes having fun, reading murder mysteries, listening to music, vlogging, his job, cooking, and playing video games.

Dislikes:
He doesn't care to fondly for people who ruin the mood, drama queens, homophobes, bullies, disrespectful pricks whose only goal is to make the life of others miserable, fighting though he will do so if he has to, and insecurity.

Fears:
He has a fear of snakes. He watched a friend get attacked by one when he was growing up and he avoids them at all cost. He also has a fear of dying alone.

Personality:
Caleb is the type of guy that knows what he wants and goes after it. Caleb is very smart, but most would never know his past in the school decathlon growing up. He doesn't talk about himself, but rather enjoys listening to others talk about their life and growing up. He is the type that will open his heart to those he trusts, and if they betray him he will cut them off. He can be funny, and motivational to others. He's been through a lot and has survived. He smiles more than he frowns but there are those days that he likes to be left alone. He is an extrovert and likes crowds, but again some days he likes solidarity. Dancing and singing are hobbies for him, two that helped him overcome. Caleb is flirtatious and will openly flirt with nearly anyone, sometimes just to get a reaction. He is confident in his sexuality and knows what he likes. In other words, CJ is quite promiscuous but he's not a stereotype and hates being labeled as such. He's a gentlemen most of all, and is very caring. He puts up a block to avoid relationships after dealing with a three year bomb.

Background:
Caleb is a male model and adult film star, but when not filming he works at his parents Crisis Management Firm as a secretary. When not filming he enjoys living life to the fullest. While his parents accept him, they do not accept the side job he chose. Still, they love him and give their support when they can. Caleb was born in San Juan, Puerto Rico to Aña Gonzalez and Robert Anderson. Though married, Robert was so busy being a businessman and alcoholic that he forgot to sign the birth certificate for Caleb thus leaving his last name as Gonzalez. Eventually, he came back and signed the document, and Caleb's last name was officially changed. They moved to Atlanta, Georgia shortly after his birth. His mother remarried after Robert's untimely death to Matthew Anderson, no relation to Robert Anderson.

Caleb grew up as an average guy aside from a magical experience when he was ten years old. As well off as his parents are, Cj still likes to go to the thrift shop and enjoys the complexity of life. He gives to charities, but only those that support the LGBT community or have a true purpose, and he volunteers with various LGBT organizations whenever he can. After graduating high school, he went into modeling and starring in over 100 adult scenes. Cj is accomplishing a lot in his young life. When he was 13 years old, he was gay bashed outside of a Seven Eleven up the street from his house. His parents were furious and the one responsible was eventually caught and sentenced to jail. After that Cj decided to learn how to protect himself and took up self-defense classes. It would seem fate wanted Cj to get revenge because when he turned 18 he went to a club and ran into the very man that bashed him so long ago.

Unlike others in his profession, he doesn't do drugs, but he enjoys the occasional cocktail. He hasn't tried anything else and doesn't have the drive to try anything either. The fast paced world he lives in does have its dark side, and he tries to stay out of that. Every scene he does he is well protected, and he gets tested regularly. After the bashing, he picked up a camera and started vlogging, telling his story to those who would watch. He would vlog whenever he got a chance as it was his outlet to deal with various things. Eventually, he garnered a large audience of over 3 million subscribers who watch his daily life as well as his covers of various songs.

He was on set in Orlando, FL when he received his acceptance letter to BlackBrick Academy. It was his chance to truly learn more than what the Headmaster was teaching him. He was sure the Headmaster was thrilled about his acceptance and after the test, he had to take to get into the school he figured a higher education would be great to keep his parents off his back. His parents are very accepting of magic and have kept it a secret since the Headmaster started training Caleb at age seventeen.

Caleb has had a hard past. Even though he was gay bashed, cheated on, and had to deal with an alcoholic father who beat him when he got angry at Caleb, he still managed to overcome it all. He's successful and wants to better his life. His father died when he was young. His step dad treats him as if he were his own, and cares for him deeply.

Miscellaneous:
Caleb tends to walk around either naked or with only a pair of skimpy briefs on that show a little too much when in the dorm room. He is extremely confident and has every right to be, being as gifted as he is. Caleb can speak Spanish, and English fluently. He's working on learning Latin. Caleb is not human at all but is in fact an Incyus. A being made of pure arcane power that consume life leaving worlds void. When he arrived on earth he gave up that life in pursuit of happiness. He became Caleb Anderson and has lived as a human for 23 years.

[User]
The atmosphere was buzzing with life. There was music playing, people dancing and alcohol being distributed like it was candy. Everyone was just enjoying each other's company and it felt great. Classes would be starting the next day and this was everyone's way of enjoying the last bit of summer they had left. Caleb was proud that he hadn't taken a single drink since arriving. While he didn't have a drinking problem, he made sure to stay away from any intense drugs. As he pulled Ambrose towards the dance floor, Ambrose tensed up and anchored in, not wanting to participate without a few drinks first. Caleb smiled and released Ambrose's hand, moving over to him like a provocative predator as he stood behind Ambrose whispering in his ear. The closeness was intense, and Caleb had moved so close his lips had nearly touched Ambrose's ear.

"Let's get a drink then, and then you can show me your moves," Caleb spoke into Ambrose's ear as he moved towards Alex who was handing someone a green drink. Caleb walked up hoping that Ambrose had followed him.

"What's up Caleb," Alex said the two exchanging a brotherly handshake before slapping each other's hands and doing some sort of arm maneuver that looked akin to placing one's forehead into the bend of their elbow. They shared a laugh while Alex started mixing different alcohols for a pleasant taste.

"So who's the new guy?" Alex asked.

"Alex this is Ambrose," Caleb replied smirking as Alex gave Ambrose a once over. "Ambrose you know Alex, he's the best when it comes to drinks. Ambrose is a friend, he's cool Alex," Caleb added, "just nothing too strong."

Alex groaned and nearly rolled his eyes as he handed them both a rather rosy pink drink. Caleb took his in his hand and took a sip. It was fruity, the alcohol hiding behind the taste. "Wait a minute, how much alcohol is in this?" Caleb asked feeling a buzz after one sip.

"Just know one of those will get you in the mood faster than anything else, so drink up boys," Alex said with a smirk. Caleb eyed the drink for a moment but knew Alex wouldn't give them something that would kill them. He took another sip and smiled. It was really good.

"So you feeling alright?" Caleb asked Ambrose returning his attention to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Samantha heading upstairs with the guy she was speaking to outside. Caleb made a mental note and shook his head taking another sip of the cocktail.

[Assistant]
Ambrose watched Caleb carefully, almost like a deer caught in headlights as Caleb circled his prey. Shivering at his warm breath, Ambrose was easily persuaded to trail behind, following Caleb closely. "They're...really a bit embarrassing." He was all he could mumble as he recovered his bearings. It was a bit overwhelming, the way Caleb wrapped Ambrose around his finger so effortlessly. The man practically screamed sex appeal, it was no wonder he worked as a porn star before BlackBrick.

Ambrose was only able to refocus when Alex gestured to him, asking for his name. Ambrose let his companion answer the questions, and instead took the rosy pink drink wordlessly. He peered down into the contents suspiciously, not even taking a sip until Caleb had taken several drinks. But seeing as his friend was content with it, and seemed to trust Alex as well, Ambrose decided he might as well. Closing his eyes, he took a glug, the taste was sweet and even a bit addictive.

"Oh god," He choked out, "I think I might have overestimated my tolerance for alcohol." He admitted, already feeling the effects slowly creep over his body. He already felt the warmness spread, and his concern for social activities diminished as he took another drink. "But this tastes really good." He muttered, and giggled lightly. He moved his gaze back to Caleb and shot a smirk in his direction as he finished his drink. "Another please." He asked and shoved the cup back towards Alex.


[System]
Age: 28
Gender: Female
Disposition: Cheryl, or Avice as she strongly prefers to be called, is the kind of woman who can throw her entire being behind a cause she cares about; the challenge and stimulation helps stave off the boredom and depression that would otherwise set in. Those she draws close to find her to be a woman of immense loyalty who is willing to fight to the death for those she cares for. Avice places value on being self-sufficient and looks down on those who are dependent and needy even while coming to their aid.

She feels most at ease in the wilderness, but at times feels the need to immerse herself in city life for short periods of time. The city reminds her of the life she once had and draws out facets of her personality she tries to hide. Under it all is a prim lady who cares how she looks and how others perceives her.
Background: As a child she was stuck between two worlds. In one she was Cheryl, the daughter of a fairly successful politician in the PU. In the other she was Avice, the granddaughter of what many saw as a crazed war veteran. Her father and mother raised her to be a "proper lady" who attended the parties of high society and took great care not to make her father look bad in public. Her grandfather, on the other hand, taught her how to handle a rifle and took her out on hunting expeditions. She cared greatly for her grandfather, PTSD and all, even while ignoring his rants about the inevitable war. In the end he was both right and the sole reason why Avice is still alive. When the USK first broke away from the PU Avice was out in the wilderness on a hunting trip with her grandfather. When the two returned from their trip they found their hometown to be a warzone; their family had been targeted and murdered by rebels.

Avice was quick to join the army, thoughts of revenge providing all the motivation she needed to get through basic training and endure the rigors of combat, for a time. She quickly proved herself to be a superior marksman and was given her platoon's DMR. For four years she fought in that terrible war, witnessing things that would scar her for the rest of her life. By the end of her first tour she was done with the PU, her lust for revenge had long ago evaporated. She had come to the realization that while she still hated the rebels of the UKE she could at least see how they could justify their own actions in the face of the PU's rather atrocious doctrines. And so she left the army in the hopes of living the rest of her life in peace. She struggled with 'peace' for half a year before giving up. She had been changed so much by the war; peace was no longer an option in her mind. She gathered what little wealth her family had left and, combining it with her pay from the army, bought a FRAME and sought work elsewhere.

Appearance: Standing at just under five foot six, Avice has an athletic build. Her appearance is well maintained, but an absolute minimum amount of makeup is used most of the time. Her hair is typically tied up in a ponytail or braided.
Inventory:
-G3B 7.62x51mm DMR
-9mm pistol with tactical holster
-Kukri utility knife
-Pilots' suit with ballistic armour and equipment harness
-Pilots' helmet
-Designated marksman patch, usually visible on the left shoulder of her outfit

Funds: 59,250c
Other: N/A
Name: ACS-3G Zaruga "Valkyrie"
Manufacturer: Cradle Dynamics
Height: 4.1 meters
Weight: 5230 kg
Armor: 20 mm durasteel alloy
Speed (Walk): 65 kph
Speed (Skate): 91.6 kph
Sensor range: 5 km
Communication range: 25 km
Operating range: 600 km
Extra Systems: ECM suite, laser target designator
Power: 130
Weight: 80
Price: 468,750c

Armaments:
-AFC-40/L Autocannon
-2x MGR-2A Anti-tank Missiles
(2 Spare weight)

[User]
Scattered thoughts rushed forward through the haze of boredom that was quickly breaking in Maia's mind. She took a deep breath, tried to find her center. Being here and there in the middle of a firefight wasn't a good thing.

Edward had pulled a bit of fire to himself, and Ryder and Harold seemed eager to rush into the gap. Maia's plan, by comparison, was a bit simpler.

She ran around, going towards the front of the convoy. Loosing half her salvo of rockets ahead of them by a margin of 75 meters, just close enough to make them hesitate. Her autocannons focused, loosing fire at the Dreqs at the lead of the convoy, strafing as she went. Tearing them open would be good, but her main goal was to get the trucks between her and her opponents. Logic would dictate that if they were valuable enough to have such a large escort, they'd be valuable enough for the escort to not turn their guns on. That'd make them the perfect cover.

She just needed to get to it.

Her skates went on as he got onto the open road, and she crouched as low as she could as she skirted around and onto the bridge. Her guns didn't stop firing until she was close to the trucks, and couldn't afford a stray shot destroying the thing they were sent to retrieve. Her logic seemed sound enough. Let's just hope that the enemy had the same line of thought.

[Assistant]
Elaine had followed dutifully in Cecilia's wake with the others as they left the landship behind. The foot-wheels of her FRAME hummed softly as the machine skated over the uneven ground. Time and miles rolled away quickly over the half-hour they spent getting into position. For most of it, she had a good view of the back of one of the others' machines. They spread out as the ambush point came into view. It was classic; a road flanked by gently sloping embankments, wooded with trees and other foliage far enough apart to permit their movement but dense enough to shield them from view.

She took a crouched position, and then shut down her FRAME as commanded. She popped the hatch for ventilation, allowing cooler air to circulate inside the stuffy cockpit; with the power off, the environmentals were shut off too. Sitting in a dark, metal box with no air wasn't exactly great for pre-mission calm.

What seemed like no time at all passed, and the convoy hove into view. The redhead grimaced as she buttoned up the machine once more, switching to minimal backups, enough for visual sensors to be online.
Time to get interesting, she thought wryly as the convoy paused. Like Cecilia, she had a prickle of doubt climb up her throat as the targets paused. A flutter of anxiety spiked in her breast, before dying away as they moved on.
The other machines sprang to life as Cecilia's voice urged them into action.

Edwards' laser designator stabbed out, and ECM kicked off. She did the same adhering to her role and expertise. Moving from cover to cover, she cranked up her own ECM system and designated targets, handing off data to the others as she darted between trees, and advanced down the slope as the others engaged targets. She saw Maia move forward, acting on their orders. Enough cover was coming from the others that the redhead followed suit, backing up her team-mate with swift, short bursts of autocannon fire. The rifle-like weapon was tucked tight against the FRAME's shoulder as she danced the machine between cover, aiming for sensors, joints and weapons on the enemy machines. Like Maia, she had the aim of closing into close range. Her comrades were already providing pinning fire from the higher embankments of the road. It was a good time to start hitting harder.
Skidding down the slope, she darted her FRAME closer, snap-shooting in short, precise bursts at the head-sensors of the nearby Dreq, aiming to destroy and disable its' targeting alongside the blanket of jamming being blasted out by her Frame and Edwards'. As soon as she saw the head turn to a heap of scrap, she shifted her aim to the torso, aiming to cripple balancing systems, power and whatever other vulnerable and essential systems resided in the core of the machine.

[User]
"Tch!" Cecilia gritted her teeth as she saw Ryder jump into the OSU formation, ramming her FRAME into one of the Dreqs. The maneuver had startled the pilots, sure, but now Ryder was in a less-than desirable position, sandwiched in-between hostiles and already trading autocannon fire - not ideal circumstances to pull this plan off.

"What the fuck are you doing, newbie?!" blared Cecilia over the radio. "Get out of there and use your gun!"

As Cecilia bellowed into her headset, she noticed the trucks pick up speed, drivers slamming on the gas to get the OSU's precious cargo out of danger. She bolted from her position in the trees to intercept their escape.

"Elaine! Maia! On me! We have to cut them off!"

As she darted for the trucks, Cecilia whipped her autocannon around, bringing it to bear on a Dreq that was closing in on Ryder. She gave the trigger on her control yoke a squeeze and her weapon roared to life, sputtering 25 mm AP rounds at her target. The tungsten penetrators of the ammunition hammered into the Dreq, severing an arm from a shoulder and piercing through the torso. The force of the rounds kicked the machine backwards and it collapsed to the road with the grind of metal on concrete.

"Just shoot them," she directed at Ryder. "Take advantage of the position you're in. In a FRAME, you've got to use the most efficient means available to you. Hitting them with crossfire in-between our positions is more effective than melee ever could be."

Cecilia swiveled her FRAME on its wheels, now zipping backwards and keeping ahead of the lead truck. She pointed her rocket pod to the round and let loose a small salvo. The warheads slammed into the road, tearing up concrete into an impassable jumble of debris. The trucks slammed on their brakes, veering off-course as they came to a halt.

It was too early to celebrate though - a trio of Dreqs had escaped the crossfire of the ambush and were headed right for her. Cecilia readied her weapons, expecting Elaine and Maia to do the same.

By now, the Dreqs that were still operational were starting to regroup. The initial surprise of the ambush had done its work, but the Panthers still needed to clean up.

[Assistant]
"Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit" Avice muttered under her breath as her Zaruga's systems slowly went through the process of restarting. Like everyone else she had shut down her FRAME completely to avoid detection. Unfortunately when the order came to active their FRAMEs, Avice's chose instead to crash all of its systems, forcing her to start the booting process from scratch. Normally that wouldn't be too much of a problem, taking less than thirty seconds, but those seconds felt like hours when unseen explosions could be heard all about.

Avice let out a sigh of relief as her FRAME finally finished booting up, only to curse under her breath. Things had progressed quite a bit while she was out of the fight. Four, maybe five, hostiles were down; although, despite their loses the Dreqs were regrouping. Avice cursed again when she noticed Ryder had chosen to charge into the midst of the Dreqs; there were a couple of Dreqs she would have loved to fire a barrage at that, unfortunately, Ryder was in front of.

Choosing to shift her attention elsewhere, Avice fired a short barrage at one of the Dreqs advancing on Cecilla. Several of the twenty millimeter rounds slammed into the Dreq's left leg. The rounds failed to penetrate, but the Dreq was thrown off balance regardless. Avice set her missile to lock on to the Dreq, waiting for the series of beeps to turn into a single drawn out beep before letting her missile fly. A moment later the Dreq exploded in a glorious fireball, shards of metal littering the road around it.

Several incoming rounds slammed into a tree near Avice's frame, the Dreq that fired near her quickly adjusted his aim and fired a second barrage. The sound of metal scraping against metal as twenty millimeter rounds tore the paint, as well as several centimeters of metal, off of her FRAME's paint caused her to wince. She began to bring her own gun to bear but thought better of it when a third barrage tore one of her should mounted missile launchers to pieces.

"Thank god I already fired that missile" She muttered as she swung her FRAME into cover behind a cluster of nearby trees. Not that the scrawny plants would provide much protection from a twenty millimeter round.

"Azor here" She radioed as she fired a quick burst of twenty millimeter rounds at the Dreq, "One of the Dreqs has me pinned, can anyone give me a second or two of cover fire?"


[System]
Age: 26

Race: Human

Job: Magus

Description:

Even for a human, Artos is farly average in body type. A bit on the tall side, he is also fairly toned from daily training. His eyes and hair are not hereditary, as his parents eyes were artic blue and they both had honey colored hair. His eyes are a deep scarlet red because of a mutation from his frequent dabbing and poring of ancient and forbidden tomes and his hair had become dabbed in an ivory white, a small price to pay as Artos claims.

His armor is fairly lightweight, allowing him to move and cast spells at will and not hinder his agility. The armor itself is self-enchanted, though it's fairly weak. He mainly uses a longsword he lovingly called 'Red Trinity' due to the red embellishments on the hilt and scabbard.

While most of his time is spent on reading and studying ancient tomes, he trains in mastering his weapon, 'Crimson Trinity' and spends the rest on training Martial prowess, though not particularly advanced, he could hold his own. He's still particularly young, his knowledge in the ancient arts, while intensive, is not very deep. He is still learning, although at a very fast pace.

Biography:
Born under the Raulyn household, the household was viewed as slightly prestigious but fairly normal. His parents were both Magus, something which Artos was not privy to. Artos' birth was not planned for, but they still took care of him deeply. He was somewhat neglected due to his parents pouring time into learning the secrets of the tomes, though Artos didn't particularly mind as his parents did still love him and he was naturally independent.

His childhood consisted of fights, with children who bullied him and then being rewarded with a nice fist marked shape on said bullies' faces. He had a natural affinity for fighting and love for it, his battle sense is extraordinary being able to make up strategy before the fight, and tactics during the fights. He had fought three brothers of said bullies, who were taller than him and had managed to win, albeit barely. His parents always tried to reprimand him, but they found that the bullies would usually instigate the fights, making them try and talk to said bullies parents, although they were thick headed.

At the ripe age of 14, the day was normal with the birds chirping, the ray of sun penetrating through and the sound of fists colliding with skin. The bullies were trying to pick on Artos, to which he delivered swift retribution. After the last bully was on his knees, begging for him to stop, Artos let him go with a swift kick, he trudged home. The journey home was as serene as it could be, he was lost in thought until the smell of smoke penetrated his nose. In the far distance, his household was dancing in a pool of orange and red, it was on fire.

Running as fast as his legs could carry him, he arrived at the estate, only to find his parents fighting something. The only thing Artos could distinctively recognize was his elongated ears, it was an elf, drow, high elf, Artos didn't know. All he knew was that both his parents, who were both strong magus, though Artos didn't know, was being overpowered by this figure. Bolts of light and the clashing of blades resounded through the burning building, and before he knew it, both his parents fell. They had been overwhelmed, and the figure ran his blade through his father, and soon his mother too. The figure was smiling the whole time, he looked at Artos with a sardonic grin that would haunt him, and said something about him becoming stronger so that he could 'devour' him and then began to strut away.

Rushing to his parents, and through tears, his dragged both of them outside the building. The debris almost caught Artos but through tenacity he had managed to dodge. His parents were still alive, though they were at deaths door. His Mother and Father were placed side by side, through hacking coughs that resulted in blood spewing out his mouth, his father had confessed that they were attacked by 'The Devour', one who hunts Magus'. Artos had no idea what he was talking about or what was going on, hugging his parents, saying that they were going to be okay. Only to be met with a sad smile, and tears they claimed that he should train and become a better Magus than them. He said that there was a secret room, inside their shed, and all the ancient tomes and texts were in there. The mother then mentions that his Uncle would come and care for him, and also train him. Artos was still confused, being handed a key and a piece of paper. Then they were... gone.

Artos was devastated, he was sitting next to them for hours after their deaths, he decided to bury them next to their own beloved homes. A few more hours passed, and there were two mounds of dirt and pseudo-gravemarkers. Still raining tears, he said a short prayer before toughening up and punching himself. He looked for the shed and after more hours, he finally found it, it was well hidden to the point where 'The Devour' missed it. Placing the odd shaped key in and with a large click, the 'door' moves aside and revealed a deep basement. The torches lit up one by one. Stepping down one by one, the humidity was overflowing. Using the wall as a crutch to go down, finally arriving at the bottom the slight hum of magic hit his ears. Squinting his eyes, adjusting to the darkness, he noticed what was basically a library and on the corner was armor and a sword that he would use.

Grabbing an old dusty tome, Artos had begun reading and at first it confused him to no end, but he didn't care, after more hours his uncle had arrived, and with stoic eyes he knew what had happened as his parents did exclaim that someone was watching them and had sent him a message before hand. He tightly hugged Artos, who had begun crying again. After hours of talking, his Uncle, Adrian Raulyn would take care of him. Adrian was very understanding and lenient, and he himself was trained in the art of the sword, a master even. They had decided to live somewhere close, so as to be close to the ancient tomes.

Years and years of training and reading had made Artos very powerful, though not as strong as 'The Devour' yet. At the age of 21, his uncle had passed away, peacefully and serene, unlike his parents death. Though Artos mourned, he mourned with a light heart, knowing his Uncle, Adrian had left life peacefully... unlike his parents. Setting of to secluded training and poring of ancient tomes, his mind was dead set on avenging his parents.

Reaching the age of 26, he had expended all the tomes and secrets and set out to travel the world to look for more of the hidden tomes.

Demeanor/Attitude:
Chaotic Good

Artos is a so called perfectionist, not being able to leave something unless he understands the intricacies of it. He is kind and tries to help out people when he can, his helping nature was something from his parents, though Artos doesn't notice. He is a bit of a battle fanatic, trying to fare his skills with against any people who are willing and strong. He has a natural sense of battle, creating strategies before hand and tactics during the stress of battle. He is also fiercely independent, growing up with the lone-wolf mindset and it has stuck ever since.

He has a strong distrust of any being with elongated ears, Elves, High Elves, Drows and anything similar. He also will show slight hatred for them, even though he himself knows that not all of them are as evil and maniacal as the ones who killed his parents. This stems from his childhood, an incident that has since been his drive.

His main mission is to find 'The Devour', and will not rest until he has found justice.
His secondary mission is to find tomes of old and power, and finding other individuals who are magus' to trade secrets and knowledge.

Other:
Since he needs to spend hours reading and reading, he has grown to like reading.
He plays the Lute to himself sometimes when he is deeply thinking.
He prefers to self-cook.

The tomes he had read so far are numerous and number alot. Including but not limited to;
~Tome of Sanabits, an ancient tome transcribed by the greatest healers of Eons long past.
Status: Badly burnt, over 95% is unreadable thanks to a fire.

~Book of Elementum, ancient tome found by his parents, transcribed by the greatest Magus' of the past.
Status: Fully readable and learnt. Learned elemental spells.

~Tome of Auguriis, another ancient tome containing enchanters of old greatest techniques.
Status: Hard to grasp, but he managed to grab the essentials, he's still getting around to it. Managed to enchant his armor, can enchant others.

[User]
"SON."

"OF."

"A."

"GOD."

"DAMNED."

"MOTHER."

"EFFING."

"ELF."

Varis screamed out in pure and utter rage before grabbing one of the bars of the cage and pulling on it in a useless attempt to perhaps tear it apart. More or less, he did this out of rage -- in an effort to subside his rage. He was angry -- pissed off. He wanted to kick someone, wanted to beat something or someone into submission in an effort to stop being angry.

"ONE MISSION," Varis screamed out, referencing the original reason why he was in a god damned desert, but to others it would seem as if he was referencing the group's mission that was given out by the mage.

And then it hit him. It hit him faster than a brick thrown by an elf.

That damned mage had led them here. Whether or not he knew this was going to happen, the mage had led them here. The mage had gotten him stuck in this god damned cage. This was the mage's fault, this was the god damned mage's fault. Varis screamed once more before finally slinking down, raising his hands up to his eyes. He wasn't exactly sad, nor was he crying. More or less, he was angry for his stupid naivety, for his stupid willingness to want to go with this damned group, for his idiocy.

For his wants.

"God damn it..."

For some odd reason, he had wanted to go on this mission. For some odd reason, he had wanted to be with other people -- random strangers that he didn't know. For some odd reason, after so many years of killing innocents for hire, he wanted to go adventure off with some odd, dysfunctional group of hell.

As he thought of the group, something came to mind. He quickly shot up, trying to find his allies as his eyes darted around the room. Trying to find her.

[Assistant]
Each member of the group, growing ever larger, awoke. Each one predictably freaked out as they found themselves locked in a cage. Each one, felt some relief as they would see other members of their party in the same room. Only they where in separate cages. These cages did not have a lot of room in them. To the far left wall everyones things could be seen. Piled up against a wall. The short peace would not last though....

 Vivian woke up next. She felt a massive headache as the world began to spin. She woke up from a horrid nightmare and found herself in a nightmare that was all to real. She thought her kin might have had something to do with it. Until she heard Ellyn explain things. The room began to erupt with life as each one began yelling out. She looked to see Varis looking around worried. It was strange because he was looking for them. She smile half heartedly. She then noticed all of her things were missing. Everything... Her swords, her crossbows, everything. She sighed. "I think we are all accounted for.... Now how do we get out of here." She said.

 Garekk woke next he felt himself alone in a cold cage. He was stripped of his weapons and armor revealing his muscular features. Some of it scarred from the casual life of an orc. He grunted rather angrily. He then recalled he was holding onto Vivian. When he found her. She was placed in a cage on the opposite side of the room. He wasn't too relieved because he failed. He tried to protect her from that thing ,but he had failed. He wanted to tear these bars apart but he knew it would be pointless.

 Ellis was stuck in a smaller cage. He grunted as he woke and looked about. "Well shit,... This sucks." He said. He then saw that it was locked and decided to check his pockets and hidden compartments. Empty, all of it was taken. Damn it... "If i only had my lockpicks I could get out of here..."

Then it appeared... A large zombified Gnoll. Hugh could recognise it from the tears in its jaws. This was the one he shoved a bed roll down. It carried jiggling keys and it looked at the occupants and cages. It's eyes had no life in them and glowed a green light. It then saw its target and moved towards the cage. The cage was Sana's,... It unlocked the cage and without emotion or hesitation it reached in and grabbed the first thing its cold hands could grab a hold of. It was her hair. It pulled and drug her out if the cage and across the floor. It dragged her into the room it came out of closing the door.

 Vivian went wide eyed and gasped. "Well shit.. That just happened."

[User]
Sana saw the beast, her eyes widening as it stepped towards her. "Oh hell no," she spat at the keys unlocked the door; kicking out did nothing. She went to flip out of the way but there was no room. It grabbed her hair and she screamed out in pain as her hands grabbed the hand gnolls in her hair and fought to free herself.

 Her body dragging along the floor as she kicked and fought and struggled with everything she had; eyes darting around, she found Hugh. She looked enraged, furious but in her eyes there was fear. Deep fear that crept up in those nightmares you couldn't free yourself from.

 "Let me go you oversized gorilla!" she screamed, still fighting as she was drug out the door and it shut heavily into place. Her screams could be heard growing faint until there was nothing left but silence.

[Assistant]
Tagged; Everyone in the party,

Intently listening to Ellyn, "Don't worry, already forgiven. No point in being angry, won't get us out of this mess." he reassured after listening to her tale, "But this man, what did he look like?" he asked, reaching for his hidden spellbook. Everyone started to wake up one by one, each being more frustrated than the last. He heard Varus' incessant screaming, and everyone's worried dispositions.

All of a sudden, a zombified gnoll appeared, one with a gash on the side of its jaw. "Is that the Gnoll Sir Hugh killed?" he asked outloud, eyeing the beast. It walked ever so slowly, towards... The archer, Sena's cage. With an open lock, the light thuds that echoed the dark room were replaced with Sena's screams until she was out of sight. Reaching for his spellbook that was hidden inside his boot, he began slowly chanting an escape spell.


[System]
Gender: male
Age: 24
Appearance:
 Height: 6'3
 Build: average size but muscular
 Hair: dark brown hair that goes just past his shoulders; wears it in a short ponytail usually with his bangs hanging in his face because they are too short to stay in hairband.
 Eyes: dark blue
 Clothes: when working, wears a stained long-sleeved shirt that used to be white but after wearing it so long it has turned tan. A leather vest over the shirt (wears old pins on the jacket) with leather forearm covers and leather shoulder protectors. Dark brown, almost black pants with leather kneepads and shin protectors. Brown combat boots.
 Other Traits: Fairly dark tan, surprisingly even considering he is usually only seen weaing long-sleeved shirts in his older age (because he tries hiding scars on his arms and torso) as a smattering of freckles on shoulders and back from sun exposure. Has a scar about two inches long under left eye where he was hit with a bat in a brawl.
 Skillset: Good at using an array of weapons and using his fists. Knows quite a bit about survival skills, from water purification, navigation, hunting, shelter building, etc.
 Weapons: trail carbine (no scope), baseball bat (the same one that gave him his scar)
 Personality: Well, he definitely isnt the brains of the operation. He is a fighter and loves to brawl any chance he gets. Very protective of the ones he cares about and will do anything foe them, even kill. Frightening to most who don't know him and even when they do know him, some are afraid of him still. Rarely serious unless they are going into a dangerous situation. Has a good sense of humor, sometimes morbid.

 Name: Kaye Delarosa
 Gender: Female
 Age: 20
 Appearance:
 Height: 5'2
 Build: Slender and quite weak
 Hair: Pixie cut with fiery red hair.
 Eyes: Bright green
 Clothing: Wears a merchant outfit that has a bandolier with pouches sewed to it draped on a shoulder. For col weather wears a long, grey wool coat that is worn and shows its use.
 Skillset: Has impeccable agility, great at bartering,
 Weapons(s): 10mm pistol, combat knife, Leith
 Personality: She is typically a nice person...when she Isn't on the chems. Always looking for a good adventure and has an almost childish attitude towards it. Despises boredom and monotony and wants nothing more than to spice things up; this is why she takes chems.
 Bio: Kaye's life growing up was quite simple...and boring. All her life she had stayed in Barrington, a large settlement just outside what used to be called Mobile, Alabama. Though it was large and had a lot of people, life there grew to become an endless routine for her. In order to spike her attention and do something new, she begun stealing things from her neighbors, trying to not get caught. She learned this from her favorite book, the book her father used to read to her every night as it reminded her of their life, "Oliver Twist." When she turned fifteen, that held no excitement anymore nor did anything in Barrington, so she did the most daring thing she could think of...she jumped on a brahmin of one of the travelling merchants, hid under a blanket, and went outside the walls for the first time in her life. This was the start of her new-found career.
 She was found out in first few hours and with plenty of begging, the merchant allowed her to travel with him. When they got to the settlement where the merchant was from, she met with Butch and joined his caravan, receiving her own caravan at seventeen uears-old. And 5his was the story of her life now...until meeting Basil and Jace.

[User]
"Well, be careful in here. If they were pulling some kind of experiments in here, there is no telling what is in store for us once we open those doors," Jace said, motioning towards the Overseer's office with his hand. He honestly hadn't paid attention to much of what Basil had said but it wasn't out of disrespect; he simply didn't care to know the technicalities of places that they scavenged. The past didn't matter much to Jace, as the future was his only priority; protecting his family and surviving to do so was his only priority, the only thing that drove him to live in this bleak world.
 As Basil had looked on the computer for leads, Jace piddled around in the laboratory and looked for anything useful. The only thing he found was a few empty cans and two cans of food that were so mangled, it was questionable that they were even good at all. He stared at the labels on the cans to see what was the contents, but couldn't figure it out. He cursed under his breath and set the cans on the table with a loud thump.
 "This is the only thing that I could find aside from useless clipboards and broken pencils."

[Assistant] Basil winced slightly as Jace practically slammed the cans onto a nearby table; well, perhaps it wasn't actually loud, but merely seemed so in the otherwise silent laboratory. He narrowed his eyes at Jace and hissed, "Aren't you always the one telling me to be careful? Keep doing that and you'll surely draw those pests to this side of the Vault." He shook his head, and without awaiting a retort, began his expedition through a mildew-infested filing cabinet in earnest. Most of the documents had been damaged beyond recognition, but there had to be more about the Vault and the ulterior motives behind its erection than just one entry written after all of the former residents had either left or perished. Truly, he had only come here for one thing—a Garden of Eden Creation Kit or, at the very least, information on one's whereabouts. Of course, the history to be learned in each Vault was fascinating and he deemed it worth exploring, but he had to keep his priorities straight; he had to remain focused. One would never reach their destination if they kept taking detours.

[User] Jace forced a smile and walked over to him. "So, find anything interesting, Professor?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

[Assistant] Basil glanced up at Jace, and said, "Well, there was that one entry I told you about, but that's all I've been able to find thus far." He sighed, gently closing the cabinet closed once more. "Everything in here is illegible; it's sad. It would have likely told us more about their research here." He straightened up, rubbing his gloved hands together in one of his idle mannerisms; it was what he often did when he was contemplating on their next move. "Well, this is the last laboratory. I'm going to grab a few supplies from here, and then we can either leave or head into the Overseer's office. I'll let you decide on that one. Safety first and all that." He began to search through the shelves again, grabbing whatever he deemed to be potentially useful; inevitably, it'd be crammed into Jace's pack. If he carried more than thirty pounds on his back, he'd grow tired within the hour and begin to complain. It was a universally acknowledged fact that Basil could go on for hours and cause someone's ears to bleed if not contented; Jace had learned that the hard way.

[User] "I know it's dangerous, but there might be some useful information in the Overseer's office, wouldn't you think so?" Jace didn't even wait for Basil to ask for his pack and unslung it, knowing that he'd ask for it, anyways. He moved a few things around in his pack before packing the other items. "If I was the Overseer, I would store a G.E.C.K. or information on it on my personal computer so other vault dwellers couldn't access the information, right?" He didn't wait for an answer before pulling out his trail carbine. "Let's get this show on the road so we can get back on the road."

[Assistant]
Basil smiled excitedly, moderately surprised that Jace had actually agreed to explore the Overseer's office; normally, he would just decide for them to leave, rather than taking any sort of risk. Perhaps he had finally grown impatient after weeks without a satisfying lead, as well.
 It was imperative that they pinpointed the exact location of a functional G.E.C.K. as soon as possible. They had heard the stories of how they could bring about miracles, of how the Capital Wasteland, possibly the worst section of the entire world, had attained fresh water because of the work of a few scientists, a desperate, grief-stricken Vault Dweller, and one of those Kits. If such a device could save even the Capital, then it had to also possess the capability to save their home.
 They had to believe in that.

[User]
Jace walked over to the door slowly and pressed his ear to the cool metal to listen. He had done this when they first arrived at the vault to see what he could hear on the other side; the first time he'd heard only one voice groaning, but now there were two sets of groans. If he'd overlooked the second one earlier, then there could be a whole hoard in there without them ever knowing. After listening for a full minute or so, he turned to look at Basil, a serious expression etched on his features.
 "There are at least two ghouls in there and there could possibly be more. You take the one farthest to the left and I will get the one on the right. If there happens to be more in there...run. Whatever is in there isn't worth our lives to find out, understand?" He lifted the gun to his shoulder and aimed it at the door. He nodded his head towards the door as a signal for Basil to open the door. Every muscle in his body tensed in anticipation, ready to spring like the bullet in the chamber of his gun. Though this was dangerous work, he took silent pleasure in a good fight...

 It was one of the hottest days Jace had ever experienced in the long thirteen years of his life and it was almost intolerable. The hot, humid days were merely typical life for those who lived in the Deeper South. Ever since the bombs had dropped nearly three-hundred years prior, the southern part of the United States seemed to fall closer to the equator; Jace didn't know if that was the truth but he'd heard those rumors since he'd been old enough to remember and believed it just as the other southerners had. Whatever happened after the nuclear winter lifted, the south became so hot it was almost unbearable and the humidity could drain the life out of a person in mere hours if not properly hydrated. To most out west it seemed unfathomable for anyone to want to live out here, but they thought the same about the people out west; at least there was more green life around these parts.
 Night was quickly descending one day and Jace was running home in the hurry of his life. His curfew had passed over an hour ago and he knew his father would use his hide as the new welcome mat for the front door. As he was on his way, though, loud laughter and jeering brought him to a slow standstill. Till this day he didn't know what possessed him to stop, but he followed the noise almost in a trance. Once the voices had grown louder, he stopped and stayed hidden behind the last corner, listening to see what had caught the group's attention.
 "-your momma probably didn't even want you to begin with! She was right to leave this world. Probably didn't want to put up with her weird-ass son!" More laughter ensued.
 "Hey! That's enough!" he yelled as he walked around the corner, hands balled into fists. Once he gauged the situation, he noticed there were four guys, a little older than himself, taunting a kid who may have been a few years younger than all of them.

[Assistant]
It was not an unusual occurrence. These same people had taunted him ever since they discovered that his mother had died; even the occurrence of his mother's death had not been a surprise to the townspeople or for anyone else in the wasteland, for that matter. It was a harsh setting. Danger lurked behind every corner, manifesting itself as famine, disease, predators on the hunt--sometimes, even one's own shadow could take possession of their life. Basil had always been taught from both of his parents that death could strike at any moment, without sympathy or discrimination. So when his mother passed on three years prior, he accepted it. Perhaps it was his acceptance that scared the other children, which caused them to ostracize him. He also accepted that, for it was simply another form of loss. He was told not to mind the losses, only focusing on the endless possibilities of life; though there were millions of methods of death, there were trillions of methods in which one could live their life and enjoy it to the fullest. Balance was achieved through this because it was common for humans, in moments of extreme loss, to ignore and push away possibilities. His mother had not desired for him to let her death consume him, leading him to waste his own life. He had honored her wishes. It was because of this that he grieved quietly, unobtrusively, mourning as he moved further and further into the future that did not involve her. He did not regret his decision.
 However, he did wish that these idiots would leave him alone for once.
 "Do you even have emotions? What are you, a robot or something?"
 "Your mama would be real sad to hear that you're so happy to be rid of her."
 "What about your dad? Is he wanting to leave like she did?"
 He knew for a fact that his mother had never wanted to just leave; it'd been a freak accident, not suicide as the rumors suggested. His father claimed that as long as they knew the truth, what others thought didn't matter. His mother, however, had loved her life and her family more so--she would never deliberately take that all away from herself. It was the one way in which she'd always been selfish.
 He was just about to say something when he heard an unfamiliar voice.


[System]
Appearance:
(Minus the weapon)
(Minus the weapons)
Age: 19.
Gender: Male.

Weapon specialty: Great/Tower Shields.

Personality: Jobain is friendly and warm always having a smile for most anyone. His temperament is one of caution though if a large threat presents itself you can expect his shield and himself to be one of the first things it meets. He is generally very protective of most everyone who need it whether they know it, or want it, or not. By nature he isn't violent however if that's what it takes to keep people safe its something he is willing to do. Though he is large and strong he rarely thinks of it as anything important, more just a tool to help others.

Bio: Jobain was the eldest son to a couple of herders of the plains and has always enjoyed working among the large animals they tended. It was a simple peaceful existence for the most part and he never really thought about doing anything else for quite a long time. However, when the Maw made their presence known it resulted in a massive stampede of the normally docile creatures inhabiting the plains which quickly turned into a massacre as almost no one could stop the tide which was led by a couple of large bulls who seemed to be leading. Jobain's uncle was a Craftknight at one point, retired but he kept his last shield as a memento of his travels, which got the boy thinking and he hefted the virtual wall of metal over his shoulder to help assist in the defense of his home. He wielded the shield more comfortably than one who expect of a mostly untrained, though large and strong, boy and managed to get himself in between one of the lead bulls and other villagers. It charged him and he grounded himself as he stepped into the beast butting head against shield which allowed him to stand his ground and eventually turned the beast with some well aimed bashes and crushing blows helping to save his home and others as well. It wasn't long after that he thought of becoming a Craftknight to continue to help other people which resulting in him getting training and better equipped with a large, tower shield as well as armor to match. He had learned much and intended to put his knowledge and skills to use heading to Degar to join the order so he can stop future attacks.

Bacchus. This fairy-type can shape-shift his hands into either fists or... those things. He does not speak. Despite being a crushing machine he has a gentle side- he enjoys watching nature, quite like an awestruck child. His ice-alignment, however, makes it almost impossible for him to deal with fires (candles are fine- but anything larger agitates him). The vocal noises he makes sounds like stones grinding against one another.

[User]
Aletta watched curiously as the balls of light formed, staring into her own before beginning to answer the questions in her head.

"What is the most important thing to a craftknight?"

Tal paused, tilting her head slightly as she thought. The most important thing? But there were so many important things... It was difficult to choose one. Her mind was caught between two answers and it took her a moment to decide which one to go with. To protect those that cannot protect themselves.

"In battle- do you rely more on your skill or your weapon?"

Well the question seemed simple enough. She remembered her brother's lessons and his words 'think of the weapon as an extension of yourself.' But how true did that seem to her. My weapon. Because without the weapon she was helpless.

"Think of someone whom you admire- what is it about them that you admire so much?"

There were many people who Tal admired... But one was stronger than the other. My brother. He works hard to fulfil my parent's wishes but also to do what he loves, and pursue his own goals all while helping people. I admire his strength of mind.

"And finally- what does love mean to you?"

Love is opening up to someone, giving them power over you but knowing they'll never abuse it. It's about trust and faith, and it's the strongest feeling there can be between two people. She smiled slightly.

She paused only a moment after answering, stepping back and glancing at the others from the corner of her eyes.

~~~~

Rather wary of the orbs of light, not entirely trusting how they had been made, Sairse nonetheless went to answer the questions.

"What is the most important thing to a craftknight?"

Well, it certainly wasn't she had thought about. It depended on whose point of view. Of course, she guessed that they were being asked their own point of view. To improve yourself, and become the best that you can, to aid survival.

"In battle- do you rely more on your skill or your weapon?"

I rely more on my skill. The answer was easy enough. She relied on her own skill for everything. Stealing would be more difficult if she was not skilled. Daggers were a simple weapon, common enough. She was better than others because she was skilled in her use.

"Think of someone whom you admire- what is it about them that you admire so much?"

There were few people that she had admired. She hadn't particularly grown close enough to anyone to admire them. Those that survive, even when the whole world is against them. I admire the strength that they have and the ability to do what is necessary to continue living.

"And finally- what does love mean to you?"

Ha. Of course, she should have expected something like this. To be honest... She did not truly know the answer. At least, she couldn't describe what that thing was in a typical way. Love is a weakness. It forces people to risk themselves for others, to do stupid things without thinking. It is something so strong that it overcomes all logic.

She took a step back as she finished watching, surprised to find herself slightly excited to find out what Guardian Beast she would get. She guessed it would be good to not have to only look out for herself...

[Assistant]
(I provided names for your monsters- you can change that if you want)

The mentors sat back and watched intently as, almost simultaneously, the orbs solidified into the Guardian beasts.

Before the first girl that had arrived- the quiet one that would no doubt soon introduce herself as Calette- the orb took on the form of a large flower bud. This bud burst and opened, forming the skirts of a fairy. This fairy stood about a foot tall and spun in the air before her master- seemingly dazed, star dust sprinkling the grass below her. She spotted Calette and, knowingly, smiled and sang out,

"Hello hello~ I am Adelaide, pleased to meet you~"

Adelaide. A fairy-type specializing in healing. She smells of roses and her voice is like soft bell chimes. She's very talkative and can be somewhat mischievous- its her goal to get Calette out of her shell. Of all of the Guardian Beasts she is the most protective of her master at first, acting like an older sister to Calette.

Beside her the orb floating in front of Altea bristled- large ears burst from it and a long tail flicked out- elongating into a fox-beast. They opened their dark eyes, flicking their blue ears toward Altea. The beast was embroidered with ornate jewelry- the most prominent of which was a ring on her tail.

You are to be my master? Her voice rang through Alteas head. I am Blaanid. The Fox of Cyclones.

Blaanid. This beast-type can manipulate the wind around her to strike out at her enemies. She is silent in her movements and is skilled in the area of stealth. She has the ability to telepathically communicate with her master. Of the other Guardian Beasts- Blaanid is the most aloof and is the slowest to trust her master. But once Altea gains her trust- she will have a companion that will lay down her life for her master.

Her siblings orb flared hot- clearly unstable. Some moments passed and nothing else happened. Tamirlan furrowed his brow, suddenly concerned, but before he could move to do anything- a voice spoke out from the orb,

"HOW THE HELL DO YOU WORK THIS THING?!- ah oh wait- shit is this the-SHIT OKAY WAIT-" screeched a voice before the orb burst in flames. A boy threw himself out of them and, fists up and ready, looked about at all the strange faces around him,

"The champion of Silturn, Riagan, has arrived!" He caught Lebolants gaze, "Are you my master? HA! Fight me! FIGHT ME RIGHT NOW."

Riagan. This oni-type specializes in small fire bursts that he shoots from his fingers. He fights to solve his problems. His temper is explosive- you'll hear Riagan before you see him. He's a prankster and often gets Lebie in trouble with his shenanigans. The oni loves to make everything a competition and will most likely spark up a rivalry with the toughest looking person around.

Tamirlan chuckled, relieved. The Oni were always ones for showy entrances and complications.

His attention soon fell on the next orb, which floated before Tal. It held a much calmer air than that of Riagans. Vines fell from it and began to lace into one another, forming legs, and then a back- but it was all wrong. It seemed like the shoulders were forming on top of another pair of shoulders. Soon all confusion was cleared, though, as the centaur stood before Tal. In his arms he held a spear. The guardian beast stoically looked down at his master,

"Evening... I am Gyuri of the Hemlock Grove."

Gyuri. A beast-type that not only uses a spear made of root and wood- but who also specializes in using leaves as throwing knives (with the use of wind). This centaur-beast enjoys sharing lore and stories about the forests that cover Senefer with Tal and whoever else would care to listen. Of all of the Guardian Beasts- Gyuri never waivers from the task and always has the goal of training in his mind.

The sound of gears and steam ran havoc through the orb beside him. Something was being systematically assembled within. A pair of glowing lights tore through the orb and soon the light of the orb faded to show a mechanoid soldier. It towered over his master. A metallic voice rang out as the android assessed its surroundings,

"Callibrating systems to enviornment_Downloading necessary survival modems for_Degar Forest Senefer_Cooling units working 100 percent_ all functions updated and working at full capacity." A click and a whir sound were heard, the androids facial sensors turned to their default blue,

"kNIGHT-E07 online. Greetings." He turned his face modual down to look at Sai. He scanned her. "Craftknight master identified. Identification saved to data bank. Registration complete."

Meet the Mechanoid Soldier kNIGHT-E07, or kNIGHT for short. He uses a pulse fist attack (which is simply an electrically charged punch which, when developed, can be used to shoot electrical pulses at enemies from long distances). He speaks very little but he is fiercely loyal- to the Law that is. This robot has volumes and volumes of moral, ethical, and judicial code downloaded into his system which he follows sometimes blindly- meaning that he could and will choose the law over his master if they stray from it.

"uhh- keep in mind that kNIGHT's speech patterns can be modified for your understanding, student." said Tamirlan to Sai, "you simply just have to ask him to change it to something more casual and he will."

And finally, the last orb. The air around it was chilled- if you listened close enough, you could hear the popping of ice as the orb crystallized in the heat of the noon day.

"Looks like a fairy." called Roque from where he sat. He raised an eyebrow at Jobain before turning his gaze back down on the orb.

On cue it burst and shattered into shards of ice. These shards hung in the air and grew- melding together to form a giant. This ice giants face was a simple bone skull- it peered blankly down at Jobain. The ice fairy let out a groan- a haunting sound of stone on stone. It lifted a hand out to Jobain for him to shake.

Bacchus. This fairy-type can shape-shift his hands into either fists or... those things. He does not speak. Despite being a crushing machine he has a gentle side- he enjoys watching nature, quite like an awestruck child. His ice-alignment, however, makes it almost impossible for him to deal with fires (candles are fine- but anything larger agitates him). The vocal noises he makes sounds like stones grinding against one another.

"Oh. This one doesn't speak." Observed Tamirlan. He stood from his seat and approached the students and their beasts,

"We'll give you a moment to get to know your companions. If you have any questions- ask me. Or ask them."

(Yay everyone got their monsters :'D After this point you can add on to your characters whatever you'd like- they're now completely yours.)


[System]
Age: 17

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Other Important Characters

Name: Henry

Age: 14

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

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

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

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

[User]
The stories didn't do the shadowmire justice, nothing could have. What startled Miles most of all was the size of the beast, and how quickly its sleek, ebony body moved.
 "You're next, girl!" Miles made a move to push Elayra through the portal. One swift action was all it would have taken for the two Wonderlanders to join Ghent, but the shadowmire had other plans and lunged forward to attack.
 Cursing loudly, Miles twisted out of the way enough for his coat to take the damage rather than his flesh. Three perfectly spaced tears in the fabric were evidence of the shadowmire making its mark.
 Even though Miles was faster than most his age, speed alone was not enough for him to avoid the second attack. As he prepared to shoot, he felt a sharp, stinging pain go through his arm. The shadowmire's tail acted as a whip, and it succeeded in disarming him.
 "No!" Ignoring the bloody gash across his wrist, Miles dived after the pistol in desperation. The weapon disappeared beneath a dirtied puddle of rain, just out of his reach.
 Breathing raggedly, Miles had no choice but to crawl towards where he'd last seen the weapon. From his position, he couldn't see Elayra or the portal, and the pulsing of their exit felt weaker than it had.
 "Where is it?!" Pawing through the water frantically, Miles finally felt the cool steel near the bottom. He removed the pistol and returned his finger to the trigger, fighting to keep his hands steady.
 As he sat up, Miles narrowly avoided a second hit from the shadowmire's tail. Unlike before, the shadowmire wasn't aiming for him. Its tail flicked to the side as if taunting someone, an evil grin pulling at its lips.
 While the monster focused on Elayra, Miles knew that was this was the distraction he needed. It was now or never.
 Crouching on one knee, Miles aimed the barrel upwards. "I haven't waited this long to have everything taken away from me now, witch!"
 Keeping both eyes open, he aimed for the shadowmire's head, and shot.

[Assistant]
The shadowmire's ears twitched, and irritation flashed in the beast's eyes—rather, the Queen's watchful enchantment—when Miles' called out to it. It's tail flicked as if to lash at him again, but it did not have time.
 Nothing could have prepared Elayra for the earsplitting ring of the gunshots. She gasped and covered her ears as the confined space amplified the noise.
 The shadowmire yowled in pain when Miles' bullets hit their target, its volume contending with the bang of the gun. It shook its head violently, its body thrashing about and sending sprays of rain from its fur and scales.
 Elayra ducked and sidestepped to avoid its tail as the beast spun toward miles with an almost metallic, feline roar, but her attention snapped to the portal a single lunge away from her when it flickered. She inhaled and glanced between Miles and the shadowmire, and the portal.
 "Sorry, Miles," she muttered as the beast's scaly segments scrunched together in preparation to pounce at the current greater threat.
 Saliva strung over its sharp teeth as it bore its impossible number of wicked teeth at the gun-wielding man. It kept one eye closed, thick blood dripping down from its corner to soak the fur of its face. Its tail shot in front of it, both a distraction and attempt at disarming him again.
 "Keep it angry," she shouted at Miles as she stepped sideways toward the portal, unsure if the usual tactics would work with the Red Queen backing the creature up, "and you keep it stupid!" With that, she jumped into the swirling portal as it flickered again.
 The moment she stepped through, the magic of the portal let out a final, long pulse, like the last weary moan of the dying. It sucked together into its glowing crack, but even that snuffed itself out like an eye closing for the last time.
 As if it sensed that the portal—and its desired prey—had vanished, the shadowmire let out another howl. An almost feminine, human air mingled eerily with it, before its injured body sunk into a pool of shadows that raced away over the walls and to the rooftops.
 In the alley, a scrap of dirtied, brown fabric stuck out from the dead-end where the portal had been: a small scrap of Elayra's dress that had not quite made it through. A scrap that created the only solid evidence that the Wonerlander had roamed the streets of Earth.


[System]
"The moon is bright tonight... do you think my smile would have been the same?"

18 | Male | 162 lbs | 6'0
Yang, Fire | Non-Native | Human

 Description

A pale young man with a cold gaze and an even colder disposition, Suzaku acts, speaks, and even moves as if all his actions were performed deliberately, almost seeming robotic. The only thing that could be considered warm about him are the flaming blue arrows that fire out of his peculiar bow. With a scrutinizing gaze enhanced with yang magic, Suzaku wishes to unveil the many mysteries of this new world, including of himself.

 Personality

Cheerful, extroverted, and friendly. Suzaku remembers being these things, and yet, he has trouble grasping his own emotions. Because of this, most of his actions are done logically, and little are performed passionately. His lack of emotions don't necessarily make him seem like a husk, however, as he does show curiosity for how he is supposed to feel at certain times. There are rare moments where he feels joy and grief, though they tend to pass at a moment's notice as soon as they become apparent.

 Bio

"All I can remember is... fragments and phases. I don't even know how I got here."

When asked, Suzaku could only recall a happy high school life. He remembered being popular, with many friends and admirers. He also remembered accomplishing well academically and athletically. One detail that was especially unique to him, that he believes made up his entire identity, was his skill at the bow. Indeed, in his former life, he was the captain of his school's archery club, both because of his natural talent and personal magnetism. It was the perfect life, and if one were to ask Suzaku, he'd say it's one he wouldn't have traded... That is, of course, until a fateful accident resulted in an arrow flying into his back, piercing his heart and lungs...

... Then he found himself in a new world.

Magics

Magic Level: 27

Suzaku's skill with Yang magic is minimal. He is only able to cast a single spell at the moment which enhances his vision, allowing him to aim and fire from extreme ranges as well as in the dark. A spell that is drilled into his very psyche because of its similarities to a technique he used at home, he casts it by saying a short Buddhist mantra to himself.

Suzaku also sports a powerful, but limited affinity with fire magic. Only being able to utilize it with a specific white bow that he is able to summon through currently unknown means, Suzaku is capable of firing arrows of blistering heat, almost like plasma, formed out of bright blue fire. The extent of the power of these flaming arrows are unknown, although they seem to be an inherent ability of his own. However, being able to fire countless arrows at the speed he seems to be capable of is definitely out of his level of power...

Abstract Magics

The gods don't really like Suzaku.

Extra

"I've always felt at my best under the light of the moon... The quiet of the night is comforting, I think."

---

Story
I - Flames of ???

???

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II - ???

???

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III - Identity

Whoever Suzaku is...

He is no hero.

??

I - White Bow

???

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II - ???

???

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III - ???

???

[User]
---

The clang of metal on metal rang out through the air of a moderately crowded street. Again and again the sound of metal slamming into itself pierced through the ears of those nearby, drawing attention to a moderately sized building. A forge roared inside, smoke billowing out as two large men put themselves to work. The smoke would have threatened to engulf the whole building had the room they worked in not been exceptionally well ventilated. Instead, it just gave of the perception that the workers themselves were clad in smoke.

Of the two men, one pounded his hammer against the lifeless metal that lay across an anvil. Sweat poured down his bare chest before finally soaking into the top of his trousers. Ting ting-ting ting. Ting ting-ting ting. A musical rhythm rang through the smithy while the man hammered life into the bare metal.

After a short while, he lifted it with his tongs. His face was serious as he inspected the still glowing metal, searching for any sign of imperfection. His gaze lasted only a moment before he gave it a curt nod and quenched it. Duran finally let out a sigh, setting down the newly forged blade and stretching out his shoulders, tight from the hours of hard labor.

Bellowing in laughter, the giant of a man that was Duran's employer slammed his meaty paws across his assistant's back.

"Duran you old coot, don't act like only this much tired you out! Just last month you were in here all day and didn't even need to catch your breath."

His roaring laughter crashed through the air like a tidal wave, nearly louder than even the cacophony they had been making with their work earlier. Duran chuckled back before shrugging the hamsized fist off his shoulder. The blacksmith was a good man, and Duran was always glad to help around the shop when he was in town. It paid well too. In fact, after he finished his work for the day, his employer paid him his dues, and even a little extra to get a nice drink.

Pulling his shirt over his muscled body, Duran stepped out onto the street, breathing fresh air for the first time in hours. He strolled the streets for a short while, his relatively large form influencing the other pedestrians to make way for him. Deciding it was time to get more work done however, Duran made his way to the adventurer's guild only to find that the two jobs he was most interested in were already taken. Well, he supposed that he could catch up on his reading.

He took a brief moment to find a tree that provided good shade and bed down.

---

---

Calliope was locked in a small room with a variety of material laid out before her. It had been days since she left, and she hadn't eaten a bite in that time, but she couldn't stop. She was so close to making a breakthrough. So close to figuring out how those damned material worked with one another. She started to giggle. It was quiet at first, almost not even audible. But over time, it increased in volume. Louder and louder. Eventually, it became a loud cackle. She was so close!

It was then, that anyone outside of her building would have heard a rather subdued "BOOM".

Stumbling, Calliope emerged from her den of research, covered in ash.

"Well now, I wonder why it did that? All I did was drip some water onto it. Hmmm, that is some interesting information to take note of."

While she was mumbling seemingly incoherently to anyone that could have been nearby, the tall woman's stomach growled. Well, less growled and more roared at her. It was going to be a long day now that she was awakened from her mania. Still, she couldn't go out looking like she had just been set on fire. As such, she quickly bathed herself before donning her new wizard robe and hat.

She stepped out of her home, taking in a breath of fresh air before stepping down the street to search up something to eat. Maybe she would even find someone that could hold up an interesting conversation. It had been quite a while since Calliope had interacted with another sentient being, so maybe it would give her an epiphany.

It was a new day filled with new ideas. Surely nothing would go poorly on such a beautiful day! Right?

[Assistant]
A woman's call alerted her, the Oni's head turned to her general direction with a frown that doesn't look all too happy at what she heard near the end there. Before she could speak, she turned to the doorway from where she was thrown out from; It was the tavern that she had dropped off her loot just moments ago and judging from the slowly swinging doorways, Iskemia got thrown out, which would also explain the sudden 'thump' on the rocky ground.

Turning full body to face her with crossed arms (and probably grace her with her dark beauty), she studied her up and down. White hair, red eyes... she assumed this was the woman that was always thrown out of Grom's tavern for causing a stir. "Well if you want to continue adventuring, I suggest you don't believe the rumor where I'm an elf or anything related to me being half-elf. It's a birth defect and if the horns don't convince you, I might just throw you out of this city my way." An intimidation tactic, hopefully it's enough for her to walk away or at least change the subject that isn't about her knife ears.

"Since you no doubt heard of my name from these so-called "rumors", it'd be rude not to give yours. I'd like to know the person I may or may not smack around later." For someone who revels in bloodshed and killing monsters, she shows some sign of politeness even if it does have some hint of hostility in her tone.

[User]
---

Ah, she was bored.

Wasn't there anyone fun around here to mess with? Rile up? Annoy until their head exploded? Ah, so far everyone seemed so utterly mundane. No fun at all to be had. Sure, she had a...business meeting to attend to, but that could wait for a bit until she had a bit of fun. She even closed up shop early just to have a bit of extra fun.

"BOOM"

Flinching slightly at the sudden explosion from a nearby house, Mie turned her head to the source of it. Eeeh? What had happened? The smell of an explosion - or fire in general was extremely unpleasant to her. Perhaps someone exploded themselves? The fox waited a few minutes nearby, seeing if anyone came out. Perhaps they'd be fun to mess with? Soon enough, emerging from a building was a woman, a wizard, from the looks of her if her so blatantly obvious garb was anything to judge by.

Out of the building emerged what was very obviously a wizard or mage, if their blatantly obvious clothing was anything to go by. Hmm...maybe, perhaps...

"Hmm...well, might as well try my luck." Mie chuckled as she walked after Calliope. "Hey, explodey mage!" She waved her hand, trying to get the older woman's attention as she gave her a bright, though obviously impish grin. "Did you intend to blow yourself up, or are you terrible at your job?" She asked in her usual smug tone.

[Assistant]
'Starting Location, Priestella
???%

---

You will become a hero.

Those very words, spoken with a cold but assertive tone, rung in the raven-haired man's head, followed by a pounding ache. It's as if a promise was being made, no, assured to him that his wish will be granted. As the others, some appearing much younger than him, made sense of the situation through conversation, the man known as Nakayama Suzaku stayed to himself, quietly as if in deep contemplation. Outfitted in simple robes of white and navy blue, his serene expression, with his closed eyes and beautiful countenance, along with his straight posture and long black hair, tied neatly into a ponytail, painted the picture of some sort of prince. His attire along with his physical features hinted his country of origin, Japan. Compared to the others, Suzaku truly stood out as different, if not exceptional.

Suzaku took a few mental notes as everyone made their introductions. It seems that, so far, everyone has made contact with the same obscured being in some sort of dark prison. No, prison is too extreme of a word, is it? In any case, he seems to have the same issues everyone else has. These observations only raised more questions, however, such as what everyone was doing before they made it there, or...

"Did you all die, too?"

Suzaku had asked rather abruptly, although with a tone far too unconcerned for the nature of the question. His eyes opened, revealing fox-like orange eyes that appear to almost be glowing. Despite his apparent concern, his physical and facial expressions both make him oddly seem indifferent about his current situation. Rather quickly, a hand wandered onto his chest, into his robes, feeling for where his heart should be.

"... Ah, bandages. My apologies."

Standing up and placing his hands to his side, Suzaku glanced at every other person in the room, his expression unchanging, his thoughts seemingly incapable of being betrayed by his face. To Suzaku, only two people in the room interested him. One was the boy with the light brown hair who spoke as if he had a better grasp of everyone's situation, and who was quick to make suggestions on their next course of action. The other was the brash, loud-mouthed young man who seemed to be the oldest, who took immediate action and brazenly made his way to the door, opening it without any thought. In other words, all these individuals are already potential tools to Suzaku, and these two, who he has already associated with as 'the Manual' and 'the Hammer', respectively, may be the greatest at his disposal.

"I believe knighthood may be unsuited for my taste," Suzaku began, with a voice that could be considered as tranquil, yet off-puttingly cold, "While I do wish to serve others in some sense, I would like to do it on my own terms. As far introductions go..."

Putting a finger next to his mouth, Suzaku's eyes looked up as he began to think of a few things. He felt like he shouldn't share his name to his new companions. It wasn't a feeling garnered from mistrust, but rather he believed that it may help him in identifying others like the one who had called themself his 'reaper', the childlike figure who had appeared to everyone prior. If anyone knew Suzaku by his full name, then they are a person of interest, and one who could maybe grant him more answers.

"My name is a bit of a mouthful, so you all can call me... Nakkun~? I am an archer, so if we could find me a bow and a couple of arrows, I believe we can make do."